by J. L. Berg
I can’t be just friends with the man who owns the other half of my soul.
I was so screwed.
~Garrett~
The ancient pipes rattled, and I heard the shower kick on. I tried my best not to imagine Mia stripping down in the bathroom above me, that old sweatshirt of mine falling to the floor, before she stepped into the warm stream of water with the dewy drops of liquid cascading down every curvy inch of her sun-kissed skin.
Yep, I tried.
It didn’t work.
Finished eating, I got up from my seat at the table and began scrubbing the few dishes left out with a bit more vigor than necessary. When I’d just about taken all of my frustrations and probably some of the glaze right off of the plate, I put down the sponge and placed everything in the dishwasher, making sure to delay it an hour. I was pretty sure I was the only one in the house who needed a cold shower.
With nothing to do but wait, I paced. I walked through her living room and down the hall to her empty office. Nothing but unopened boxes filled the room. She’d barely unpacked. She had probably been too involved in remodeling the house.
Why was I here? Why did I wake up at the crack of dawn and drive myself over here, only to torture myself further? This was supposed to be our dream, our future. But it wasn’t. She had chosen to end that dream and leave. Did I need a constant reminder of that?
I heard the shower shut off, and I wandered back into the living room, sinking into the sofa. It smelled like her. She smelled exactly as I remembered—like fresh oranges in summer. It was some sort of lotion she used, and it drove me crazy. I had smelled it on her last night as I leaned in to kiss her.
And then, everything had gone to shit.
Memories had come racing back in a flash, firing through my brain like a pistol. I couldn’t get out of that bar fast enough. I’d made some lame excuse to Kara and bailed. I’d needed air and space, space from Mia.
Yet, here I was, not even twelve hours later.
It had taken forever for me to fall asleep, and when I had, I’d dreamed of her. This wasn’t a new thing for me. When I slept, I always dreamed of Mia. But last night, I hadn’t dreamed of eighteen-year-old Mia leaving me in that crowded football field after graduation. I’d dreamed of grown-up Mia—the Mia who had worn a tight black skirt and sang with a seductive huskiness that made me ache with need.
In my dream, I hadn’t pulled away. I’d kissed her and taken what was rightfully mine. In my dream, I hadn’t stopped, and I sure as shit hadn’t told her to go home. No, in my sleep, I’d dreamed of bringing her home where I had spent hours making her remember every touch, taste, and feel my body had to offer.
I’d woken up covered in sweat and sporting the biggest hard-on of my life. Groaning, I’d jumped out of bed and gotten in the shower. Hissing as my hand reached for my cock, I’d pictured her, and I’d fisted myself over and over, remembering how she looked when I sent her over the edge. As I had cried out her name in my release, I had known I would want her until the day I died.
No matter what she’d done in our past, I would always want her. I could turn away and show restraint a thousand times, and it would never lessen the hunger I had for that woman.
Before I’d had another thought, I was dressed and in the car, driving to her house.
It wasn’t until I’d driven up to the curb that I’d realized it was barely eight in the morning, and I’d had no excuse for being there.
Then, I’d remembered the dog.
She needed a dog, and I’d take her to get one. Friends did that, right? We could be friends.
By the time I’d reached the door, I’d convinced myself that my need could be tamed with friendship. If I needed to be around her, I would be her friend.
Go home, Mia.
I remembered my angry snarl in the bar and her hurt expression. Did she go home? I didn’t have a right in the world to order her around, but at the moment, I had been livid. I’d been livid at myself for wanting her and angry with her for being so damn desirable. If I couldn’t have her, neither could anyone else. So, I had told her to go home.
Childish? Maybe. So, I’m an asshole. Whatever.
As I’d raised my hand to knock on the door this morning, I’d suddenly feared that she hadn’t listened. What if she’d lashed out and found the first guy she could and taken him home?
Anger could do strange things to one’s mind, and when I had seen her as she opened the door, I had been ready to murder the bastard inside who had been lucky enough to touch her. I hadn’t calmed down until about five minutes later when I finished scrambling the eggs and hadn’t heard any movements above.
I was going psycho. This woman was making me insane.
The woman in question breezed past me and entered the living room. The smell of oranges followed her, and I tried not to think about how much that scent affected me. She’d changed into a pair of jean shorts and a tank top. The fact that no bra straps were peeking out made me nearly groan out in frustration.
No bra. Awesome.
“You ready?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow in my direction.
There were so many possibilities with that question, but I went with the high road and settled with a nod.
I followed her out, and she paused a moment to lock her front door before we climbed into my SUV. She sat awkwardly next to me and fiddled with the ring on her right hand while I pulled away from the curb.
“That’s a beautiful ring. Did someone special buy it for you?” I asked.
I was fishing for information. She’d been back less than a month, and I didn’t know anything about her, other than what I’d observed.
“What? Oh, um…no. I bought it in New Orleans a few years ago.”
“You’ve been to NOLA, huh?”
She swallowed and made a noise that must have been a yes. “I went for a business trip. It’s beautiful.”
“I wouldn’t know,” I said absently.
“You haven’t done much traveling?” she asked.
“I travel for work but not much beyond that. I’ve been all over the Midwest, and up and down the East Coast, but that’s about it. We have territories, and mine has changed a bit over the last few years, but it has still stayed relatively boring. Nothing as exciting as New Orleans.”
More awkward silence filled the small space, and I played around with the air-conditioner knob, trying to make it cooler. It was summer, and the inside of the car was about a million degrees.
After another minute or two, she commented, “Your date seemed nice. She was very pretty.”
“Oh, that was Kara. Yeah, she’s nice, but she wasn’t my date. She’s a coworker.”
“Oh,” was all she said.
Then, I announced our arrival at the animal shelter.
The employee had just flipped the sign, officially opening for business, when we walked through. With two stories, this very modern-looking animal shelter was large and well-funded. They housed many of Richmond’s abandoned cats and dogs.
We were greeted immediately by the sounds of barking, lots of barking. It filled my ears and left them ringing. We checked in at the front desk. Mia filled out some paperwork and answered some questions on what type of animal she was hoping to adopt. We were told to wait for someone who would be with us shortly.
About three minutes later, a man approached us and stuck out his hand in a friendly greeting. “Hi, I’m Leo. I’m one of the managers here. I hear someone is looking to adopt today,” he said with a grin that was all for Mia.
Leo was about our age, maybe a few years older. He was tall and lean and had that save-the-world attitude to him. I would bet he was a vegan and ran fifty miles a day.
“Yes, I live alone, and I wanted a little company,” she replied.
Leo looked over at me and back at Mia, obviously making up his mind that she was fair game. Then, he made his move. “Well, let’s see what we can do.” He glanced down at her paperwork. “Amelia, what a beautiful name,” he said.
&n
bsp; I wanted to punch him. As he led us around and showed us several dogs, all I could think about was how close his hand was getting to her side or how much I wanted to dropkick him when he made her laugh.
“Oh my gosh, Garrett! Look at him!” she said, kneeling down to pet a golden retriever mix.
The dog instantly wagged his tail and nuzzled up to Mia.
“Sam is new to our facility. He’s young, probably only a year or two. It’s rare for us to keep retrievers in here for long even if they aren’t purebred. They’re a popular breed and very loyal,” Mr. Know-It-All said.
Mia looked up at me and smiled. The dog gave her a big lick, and she laughed. I couldn’t help but chuckle a bit.
“I think he likes you, Mia,” I said.
“Mia, that’s a lovely nickname,” Leo said.
“It’s my nickname,” I replied coldly.
Mia must have sensed the tension because she shot up from her crouch. “I think Sam is the one! Can you grab the rest of the adoption paperwork, Leo?” she asked as Leo and I continued to have a staring match.
“Sure. Be right back, Mia.” He grinned and turned to leave.
My hands fisted, and I fought back a growl.
“What the hell was that?” she asked.
“I don’t like him.”
“Well, that’s obvious. The question is, why?”
“He was flirting with you. He’s working, and he’s flirting with you. It’s very unprofessional.”
Her lip quivered as she tried to maintain a straight face. “You’re jealous,” she said.
It wasn’t a question.
“Am not,” I answered.
“Are to.”
“Am not. So, what if I am?”
Her grin widened, knowing she’d won the argument.
“I’m pretty sure the only male I’ll be cozying up to in the near future is the one right here.”
It was too bad she was pointing at the dog.
Lucky bastard.
Chapter Eight
~Mia~
“Do you want to help me unpack some of these boxes?” I asked, looking up from the enormous mess spread out in front of me on the floor.
Sam’s dopey brown eyes just stared at me blankly as he lifted an ear and cocked his head to the side. He did this a lot. I figured it was the doggie equivalent of, huh?
“You know, if you’re going to live here, you need to start pulling your weight.”
Sam wagged his tail and licked my fingers. He really was a sweet dog. When I’d asked what had brought him into the shelter, Leo had told me his owner was moving overseas and couldn’t take him. So, at least it sounded like he’d come from a good home before we found each other.
“Okay, but if you don’t help, there will be no treats later.”
I paused. I was carrying on a conversation with a dog. Had my life really come to this?
I gave Sam a long stare and eventually shrugged. “Eh. Oh, well.” I could do worse.
It was Monday night, and I’d just come home from a long shift at the hospital. Leah and I had shared the same work hours today, so we’d spent some time catching up after the weekend.
“So, did you have a good time on Saturday?” she asked.
“Um…well, it was interesting.”
“Interesting?” she repeated, obviously wanting me to delve deeper.
“I, uh…hadn’t expected Garrett to be there,” I answered honestly.
“Oh. Well, I hadn’t either. I hope you don’t think I was conspiring behind your back.”
“No, I don’t think you would do that.” She gave me a wry grin.
I amended my answer, “Okay, at least, I didn’t think that was your intention on Saturday.”
“Better. Never underestimate my evil powers, Mia, especially when it concerns two people I care about,” she said.
It made me feel special but also a little uneasy that she cared about me. I’d seen the way she looked at Garrett and me in that bar. She might not have put us together that night, but I had no doubt that she wouldn’t try in the near future.
I wished she would give up on that hope. I really liked Leah. She was fun, fearless, and loyal. I could see the devotion she had for her family and friends, and I was honored to be included in that small group, but I wasn’t the one for Garrett, not anymore.
I couldn’t be, not after everything I’d done.
He deserved so much better.
The default ringtone on my phone startled me out of my scattered thoughts, and I reached into my pocket to retrieve it. It was a phone number I didn’t recognize. Normally, I wouldn’t answer, but the area code was from Atlanta. I’d left friends behind with little explanation for my quick exit. I didn’t want them to worry, so I took a chance and answered it.
“Hello?” I said.
“Amelia,” the male voice said in relief.
I was momentarily stunned. How did he get this number? I’d changed my number, and I’d only given it out to a handful of people before I left. A chosen few had known where I was headed, and I purposely hadn’t included him.
“Aiden?”
“It’s so good to finally hear your voice. I was starting to think I might forget the sound.”
“How did you get this number?” I asked.
But I hadn’t meant to sound rude. He didn’t deserve that.
I immediately reworded my question. “I mean, how did you find me?”
“Maggie gave me your number. It wasn’t easy. She was very persistent for a long time, but she finally caved. You have a loyal friend. I’m a wreck, Amelia, an absolute wreck.”
“I’m sorry, Aiden. I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll come back.”
Visions of our last night together came crashing back—candles, flowers, and tears. That was what I remembered the most, except for the part where I’d run and never looked back.
“I…I’m sorry, Aiden. I’ve got to go.”
I ended the call before he could say another word. He tried calling back once and then twice before he gave up. I couldn’t give him what he wanted. He didn’t see that now, but he would eventually. He just needed time and space.
Another hour or so passed, and I continued to empty out the boxes that had been gathering dust in my office. I wasn’t sure what I was going to use an office for—considering I worked in a hospital, filing patient records and avoiding pregnant women—but it was an extra room, and I didn’t know what else to use it for. I took a quick look at the computer stacked up in the corner and thought about setting it up, but I decided to put it off for another day.
My stomach started to grumble right around the time Sam’s ears perked up. He jumped up and started barking seconds before the doorbell went off. I guessed Garrett was right about one thing. No one would be able to get past Sam.
I glanced down at my watch and realized dinnertime had long since passed, and it was now eight o’clock. A quick sweep around the room proved I hadn’t done nearly enough. There were still several boxes to go through, and the ones I had opened up just made more of a mess. I had hoped to find places for some of this, so when the floors went down, I’d have less to move around. I was starting to think that was a really stupid idea.
I brushed my hands back and forth on my black yoga pants, trying to get rid of some of the dust that had accumulated there, and I went to join Sam at the door. He was jumping up and down and wagging his tail like it was Christmas. Dogs had the best enthusiasm. Humans could learn a thing or two from our four-legged companions. There was very little left on this earth that brought such excitement to our faces.
I opened the door, and I really shouldn’t have been surprised by what I found. Garrett was standing in his work clothes, holding a bag of takeout and a duffel bag.
“Are we having a sleepover?” I asked, pointing to the large bag slung over his shoulder.
His lip twitched. “No, I brought clothes to change into. Can’t lay down floors in a suit.”
“Who said
anything about laying down floors tonight? It’s late.”
He let himself in, which was quickly becoming a habit of his, and breezed past me. He dropped the bags of food and his duffel on the kitchen counter and turned. “It’s late? How old are you?”
I folded my arms over my chest and gave an exasperated sigh. “I have to get up early for work tomorrow,” I said.
“So do I. In fact, I bet I have to wake up earlier.”
“Do not,” I challenged.
“Mmm…do so.” He leaned against the counter and mimicked my stance, folding his arms over his broad chest.
On me, it was pouting. On him, it was anything but, and it was super sexy.
“Ugh, you are infuriating! What time do you have to be up, smartass?”
“About four.”
“In the morning?” I squeaked.
“Yep.” He shrugged.
“Why so damn early? Don’t you have an office job?”
He adjusted his stance and shrugged off his jacket. He started loosening his tie, and I watched with fascination.
“Well, smartass, I like to go to the gym in the morning. No one else really does, so it’s quiet that early. And yes, I have an office job. I like to get into the office before everyone else, so I usually show up around six.”
He pulled off his tie and undid the first two buttons of his shirt.
The whole process, watching him slowly take off his tie had been mesmerizing. I didn’t want him to stop. Why did he stop?
He looked at me expectantly.
He’d said something, hadn’t he?
I realized I’d been staring at those open two buttons longer than socially acceptable, and he’d noticed. His lips curled into a grin, and he’d been waiting to see how long it would take for me to come back from whatever fantasy I’d just inserted myself into.
“You sound kind of like a loner,” I finally said. I was very proud of my little rebuttal.
“I’m just picky about who I spend my time with, I guess.”
“Sounds like a loner.”
“Coming from the girl who’s spending her evenings with her dog,” he shot back before picking up his duffel and taking off toward the bathroom.