I took a startled step back because I was tipsy, more than tipsy, and for a moment I couldn’t remember why I had to stay away from him. My immediate reaction to seeing him was to run into his arms, plaster myself against him, and lay one on him. I wanted to kiss him badly.
He watched me step back, and his brows shot up, his jaw going tight.
Willa looked between us, watching this exchange, and her expression darkened. She turned back to Van and took a step toward him, like she was about to give him hell. Jude noticed as well and put an arm around her waist, holding her back. He dipped his head and said something in her ear.
Willa looked between Van and me again and narrowed her eyes. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who was a little tipsy.
I quickly gave her what I hoped was a reassuring smile. “Why don’t you go dance? I’m fine here.”
Huh, my words were a little slurred.
“Excellent idea,” Jude said before Willa could answer. He lifted her off her feet so they were eye level, and started moving around the floor in a very bad imitation of a waltz. Willa’s feet dangled in the air as he swung her around like a rag doll and she giggled her ass off.
I turned back to Van and attempted another smile. I was pretty sure I was failing the whole casual vibe I was going for when Van’s frown deepened.
He leaned in so I could hear him. “I didn’t know you’d be here,” he said. “If this is too hard for you…” He lifted his hand like he wanted to touch me, then dropped it. “Shit, sorry, baby. I’ll leave.”
Baby. I remembered him groaning that in my ear while he moved inside me. My belly warmed.
I grabbed his arm before he could turn away. “No. It’s fine.” I waved a hand to indicate how okay I was with this whole thing. “I’m fine.”
I motioned to his drink and swayed a little to the right. “Stay. Drink your Bend Over Shirley. It’s surprisingly good.”
He glanced down at the pink drink in his hand and back up to me. His grin sucked the oxygen from my lungs. “Ruby?” he asked.
He was asking who had decided on the drinks. Yeah, now I could read the man’s mind as well. “Willa,” I said.
Van smirked. “Could’ve gone either way.”
“You’re not wrong.” I’d only known these women for a short time, but I’d worked out quickly that Ruby and Willa were cut from the same cloth. Fun and fearless. Well, all the women could be described as that. They all exuded a strength that I could admit I was envious of. I liked them. All of them. A lot. And if I wanted us to remain friends, I had to work out how to be around Van without falling all over him—or falling apart, no matter how much it hurt.
I glanced at the others. They were all dancing, though I noticed there were several sets of female eyes covertly watching mine and Van’s interaction. When I met them, I got subtle nods or head tilts asking without words if I was okay, if they needed to run interference.
They knew Van was a good guy, were his friends, but they still had my back. It meant a lot.
Yep, I really liked these women.
“How’ve you been doing?” Van said in that sexy low voice of his, all raspy and gritty.
I took him in and there was no way to miss the wariness in his eyes. He was worried about me, about how his nearness affected me. He was standing like he was ready to step back and give me space at a moment’s notice. He thought I was going to freak out on him. Oh God, I’d made him feel like some kind of monster.
I thought I was helping him, ending it the way I had, but it turned out, I’d actually hurt him.
Maybe it was too many shots, but when I looked up into his concerned eyes, I knew I needed to come clean.
“I’m sorry,” I blurted.
He glanced down at my hand on his forearm. The muscle flexed, then he looked back up at me, frowning. “Sweetheart, you’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”
I shook my head, probably a little too vigorously, but yeah, the emphasis seemed extremely important to me right then. The cocktails had nothing to do with it. I took a deep drink and focused back on Van’s frowning face…or tried to. “I lied.”
He shifted, stepped closer. “You what?”
I nodded. “I lied to you.” He just stared at me, waiting for me to elaborate, so I pushed on. “Being around you…it’s not…” I took another sip of my drink.
Van took the glass from my hand and put it down on the table. “It’s not what?”
Somehow my mouth felt dry, which should have been impossible after all the drinks I’d had. “It’s not…unbearable.”
He stilled.
“I was, um, trying to make it easy on you…you know, to end things. I could see you wanted to, but you were worried about my feelings, so I did it for you.” I chewed my lip. “I can see now that was a mistake.”
He didn’t look worried anymore. He looked pissed.
“I should have handled the situation differently.”
“No shit,” he bit out.
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing, London.”
“Sor—okay.”
His eyes went all intense. “So, if being around me isn’t unbearable, then what is it?”
It was my turn to freeze, only I was pretty sure I looked like a startled woodland animal. “Um…”
When nothing else was forthcoming from me, he said, “You like me.”
I nodded, even though it wasn’t a question.
“You like me a lot.”
I nodded again.
“You like the way I touch you.”
My lips parted and my breath exploded from my lungs. “Ah, well…”
He grinned and it was wicked. “You like the way I kiss you, too.”
I realized I was still clutching his arm. I nodded again, confused by the conversation, by the expression on his face, and excited all at the same time.
He touched my hair, lifting some of it, rubbing it between his fingers before sliding his hand around the side of my neck. He tugged me forward, kissing my forehead. “Dance with me,” he said and pulled me out into the middle of the living room.
A moment later, I was pressed up against him and we were slowly moving together.
With the lights off and the mini disco ball flashing around the room as it spun, showing glimpses of the other couples moving around us, it was like we were at a high school dance. Not that I’d ever been to one.
Van’s hands smoothed over my back as he swayed us from side to side. I should have let go, I should have left. Instead I rested my head on his chest and hung on tight.
My head pounded like a resident of Lilliput had moved in and was amusing himself by using my brain as a gong. I forced my lids open, and a sharp stabbing pain shot through my skull as light hit eyeballs.
I was hungover.
I’d never been hungover in my life, not like this anyway.
The sound of deep, even breathing had me turning my head, causing another shot of pain.
Van lay beside me. He was fully clothed on top of the covers, and he was sleeping deeply. I looked down at myself. I was still fully dressed as well. There was a towel on the floor by the bed, and a bucket.
I cringed and sent up a little prayer of thanks that I hadn’t needed to use it. There was also a large glass of water and a bottle of painkillers on my bedside table. I quickly downed two, along with the entire glass of water, and glanced at the clock. Crap. I needed to get to work.
While I mustered the will to move from the bed, I used the time to try and clear my foggy mind, to recall the events of the night before from my alcohol-addled brain.
I’d told Van that I’d lied.
That I’d been trying to make things easier on him.
He hadn’t reacted like I’d expected.
I glanced at Van again. All of a sudden I felt overwhelmed. My heart started to race a million miles a minute. We’d danced. He’d held me the rest of the night, his hands sure and warm moving over me.
What the hell had I done? I couldn’t pick up
where we left off. I couldn’t do casual, not with him, not now. I’d ripped off the Band-Aid, ready to start healing, but last night I’d gone and torn the wound open all over again.
Van wasn’t the kind of man who rolled over easily. If he woke in this bed with me, I’d fall right back into his arms, if that’s what he wanted. Self-preservation kicked in. I needed to get away now.
He was a light sleeper, I knew that much. I slipped out of the bed as slowly as I could, grabbed some fresh clothes, and shut myself in the bathroom. I quickly dressed, brushed my teeth, and dragged a brush through my tangled hair.
I eased the door open.
Thank God.
He was still asleep.
I tiptoed through the room, scooped up my keys, grabbed my handbag, slid on my shoes, and opened the door, pulling it shut soundlessly behind me.
And rushed down the hall.
An image of us slow dancing filtered through my mind again. We’d danced a long time. Or rather, Van had held me up and I’d clung to him like a drunken, lovesick limpet. I cringed again as more flashes of memory invaded.
Van half carrying me out of Tomas’s house.
Me trying to kiss him when he was trying to get me in his car.
The elevator opened and I climbed in and leaned against the wall, squeezing my eyes closed.
They snapped open.
Oh God.
I’d told him he had a nice butt…then I grabbed it.
Nope.
No way.
I couldn’t face him this morning.
Maybe ever.
16
Van
If she thought she could hide from me, she still hadn’t fully grasped the kind of man I was.
But she was about to find out.
When I’d walked into Tomas’s house, following the sound of the music pumping down the hall, I’d expected to find Steph, Lulu, Sunny, Willa, and Ruby dancing around the living room, having a blast. This was not new. None of those women gave one fuck what anyone thought. They knew how to have a good time. It was a sight to see, and one their men thoroughly enjoyed. They had formed a tight group, or as Jude called it, an unholy alliance, though not so secretly, he loved it. All the guys did.
Because every one of those women had overcome some serious shit, and if anyone deserved to find that kind of loyalty and sisterhood, it was those five.
I had not expected to find London in there, or how seeing her with those same women, welcomed into that sisterhood, would make me feel.
London belonged there.
I couldn’t take my damned eyes off her when I walked in and found her dancing around that pole, laughing, looking sweet and sexy, and, shit, happy.
I’d wanted to go to her and pull her into my arms, like Hunter did Lulu, or Tomas with Steph. It felt like the natural thing to do. But I’d fought it. And holding myself back had been insanely hard. So hard that instead of just leaving, I’d broken my own rules to leave her alone and had gone to speak to her. I just needed to know how she was. Leaving without at least talking to her—I couldn’t do it.
And looking at me all wide-eyed and tipsy, she’d admitted the truth. That she’d lied to me, that being around me didn’t hurt her, that she’d said that shit for my benefit. Christ, to make it easier on me. She thought I’d be pissed off, but what I felt was relieved.
I’d given up fighting and pulled her into my arms. London was soft and warm and perfect against me, and several things had become clear. I had no intention of letting her go. And I’d do whatever I had to, whatever she needed, to get that across to her.
I grinned remembering the way she tried to kiss me, the cute shit she’d admitted while I had her in my car.
I grabbed my keys from my desk drawer and left the office. I’d given her the morning to think about what happened last night, what she’d told me. To hide from me. But she had to know I was coming.
I walked out to reception. Lulu was sitting behind her desk, looking queasy. I smirked at her. “Not feeling too good, sis?”
She scowled and flipped me off.
I laughed and she scowled harder.
“You know how to reach me if you need me,” I said and walked out into the elevator.
As I climbed into my car a few minutes later and pulled out onto the street, I didn’t fight or deny the anticipation pounding through me. Because I’d realized something in the last couple of weeks, something I hadn’t expected. Yeah, it had taken a bit to sink in, because I’d been telling myself the same thing for so long. That I couldn’t have her. That relationships, that women like London weren’t for me.
But then I’d realized that being with London made me think differently, feel differently about a lot of things. When I was around her, she was the damn sun and I had no choice but to orbit around her. What she wanted, needed, became top priority.
Turning into my father, a selfish, rage-fueled monster, like I was always afraid of, was impossible when I was around London, because she was everything good and sweet. And I wanted to be a better man for her, the man she deserved.
She gave me balance, the angel to my devil. Without her I felt off center, like I was missing a vital part of myself.
Yeah, it sounded fucking cheesy, but she made me feel whole.
Hunter had been right, I needed a reason to fight the anger and guilt I’d carried for so long. London was that reason. Christ, she made me feel worthy of happiness.
Something else I’d realized—and again, it wasn’t something I’d expected—was that London wasn’t this fragile creature who needed me to protect her. No, she needed me at her side, holding her hand, supporting her, shit, ready to fight alongside her. London Rivera was the strongest woman I’d ever met.
These last few weeks she’d shown me what it was to be truly courageous.
I’d been so fucking afraid for so long of what I might become that I’d missed the truth. London showed me who I was. When I was with her, I knew exactly who the fuck I was.
And it wasn’t a monster. I wasn’t my father.
Not even close.
I pulled up down the street from London’s store and was walking through the door a few moments later.
London was standing at the counter, head down, writing something. She looked up when she heard my boots on the floor, and as soon as she spotted me, her face turned scarlet. I wanted to kiss her so bad I ached.
“Have you got a minute?”
She glanced around, like she was looking for salvation. “I’m a little swamped right now.”
“Store’s empty, babe.”
London made a show of staring down at the screen of her laptop. “I have all these orders,” she said at the same as time Erin walked in from the back.
Erin looked at the laptop screen as well and frowned. “There’s just the one. I’ll do it. You take a break.”
London glared at Erin, who missed it completely, already getting to work. London lifted her gaze to me. “Um, okay, it looks like I have a minute after all.”
I motioned her toward the back room, and she marched ahead of me like she was heading to the gallows. I grinned to myself. I might have been offended by this little display and of her reluctance to be alone with me if I didn’t have a damned good idea how this woman’s mind worked.
But she was wrong. Whatever shit she’d drummed up in her beautiful head between when she woke this morning and now, she was dead wrong.
I shut the door behind us, leaned against it, and crossed my arms. “How’s the head?”
Her gaze darted to mine then away, to something over my shoulder. “It’s been better.”
“You left this morning without waking me.”
I watched as she straightened her shoulders like she was preparing for battle then lifted her chin. Something she never would have done a couple of months ago. I fucking loved it, seeing the change in her. “About last night. You and me. It shouldn’t have happened.”
“Nothing did happen.”
“No, I know that. I
mean, I shouldn’t have tried to…kiss you and…” She winced. “I grabbed your…” She motioned to my ass or its general area. “I apologize. You don’t need to say anything more. Let’s just forget it happened and move on.”
She was on a roll now and her blue eyes met mine.
“I mean, things like that are bound to happen from time to time, since I’ve become friendly with Lulu and Steph and everyone…”
“You’ll grab my ass?”
“No, that’s not what I—”
“Run your fingers through my hair and tell me how soft it is?”
She froze. “I what?”
“Tell me you love my body and want to cover it in frosting and lick it all off?” I fought my grin at her expression. “I’m totally down for that, by the way.”
Her eyes widened. “I did not say that, did I?”
“Among other things.”
She flushed darker.
“I wouldn’t worry about it, though, London, because the bit I’ve been focusing on all morning, since I woke and found you’d snuck out and left me in your bed, the part I can’t stop thinking about, is you telling me that being around me isn’t unbearable after all. That you said that to make it easier on me.”
She straightened her shoulders again. “I thought you deserved the truth. I could see that it…upset you.”
“You’re right, it did. And I’m glad you told me, but not for the reasons you think. The truth is, it didn’t take long for me to realize that I didn’t want an easy out. I didn’t want out at all. So thinking that being around me caused you pain? Yeah, it fucking killed me.”
Surprise transformed her beautiful face. “You didn’t want out?”
“No.”
“But…”
“I’m taking you out for dinner tonight. I’ll be at your place to pick you up at seven thirty.” I closed the gap between us, took her chin in my fingers, and tilted her head back. “You good with that?”
Merciless King (Lawless Kings, #5) Page 16