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Between Friends (Between the Raindrops #3)

Page 11

by Susan Schussler


  “Why don’t you want to be a part of your heritage? You could work in management or sales. It would have to pay better than a teacher’s salary.”

  I chuckle. “I don’t think I could work with my brothers—they’re assholes,” I say, lying down and pulling the blanket over me. It’s only part of the reason, but he doesn’t need to know the gory details about my family.

  “What happened to your mother?” he says, standing up and stashing the dishes from the meal on the floor. He lies down next to me and tucks his arm behind my head.

  My breath hitches. “It’s not something I ever talk about.” Why would he ask that? It’s like he can read my mind and knows what makes me the most vulnerable. At least Sarah didn’t tell him the specifics about my mother’s death.

  “Sometimes it’s cathartic to talk.”

  “Not about her.”

  “My parents were too preoccupied with work and their social lives to be good parents, but at least I always knew if I needed them I could reach them on their cells. Was she a bad mom?”

  “No, she wasn’t a bad mom. She was like a best friend.”

  “It must have been hard to lose her. Did it happen at the marina? Is that why you hate it there?” He turns to face me and weaves his fingers through my hair. He’s gentle and it feels so good. I’m on my back, staring up at the ceiling and he’s swaying in and out of my view with a thoughtful expression. No guy has ever really asked me about my mom. His dark eyes penetrate mine. He is so damn intense. I know he won’t give it up until I tell him.

  “She drowned at the marina.” I don’t know why I’m confessing this to him.

  We’re both silent for too long before he asks, “Was it an accident?”

  I shrug. “The police didn’t think so. It’s late,” I say closing my eyes. I hope he’ll let it go.

  “I’m sorry about your mom.” I feel his lips feather light on my cheek and then he whispers, “Thanks for the naked sandwich.”

  ***

  I awake to the odd feeling of being watched and when I open my eyes Nordstrom’s mysterious brooding face is staring down at me. I hope there’s no drool running down my cheek. I stretch out and he’s still staring at me. I feel like I just got to sleep. I didn’t even get any dream time and I’m pretty sure the dreams would have been unforgettable.

  “What?” I ask, and his eyes brighten.

  “I had a good time last night.”

  “I’m sure you did,” I say, and he laughs.

  He cups his hand behind my neck, leans in and crushes his lips to mine. It’s full and sensual like the kiss at the club. He takes his time and my body fills with warmth and desire. I know it’s temporary and I savor it.

  He breaks the kiss and says, “We should get dressed.”

  I nod, not wanting to close this chapter with my fantasy guy. I sit up, pulling the blanket around me. As I scoot off the couch-bed and start digging through my bag for some clothes, I’m overwhelmed with sadness. Maybe even devastated. Last night, I shared more with Liam Nordstrom than I have shared with any guy since Chase and he accepted me. Famous TV star not only helped me forget about all the baggage I carry, he acted as if he was really interested in getting to know me and it was refreshing.

  We’re both fully dressed by the time the knocking on our door starts. It’s Leslie, and Liam opens the door.

  “So you’re back with Nak?” Liam asks, though it is more of a statement.

  “I’m crazy. I know,” says Leslie.

  “It’s about fricking time. You never should have broken up with him.”

  “Why does everybody keep saying that? I didn’t break up with him. It was mutual. And since when do you frickin’ curb your language?”

  She leans in the door to spy me. I was trying to stay out of view, but she must have seen me move.

  “Good morning.” I wave as I watch Liam, reading his reaction to Leslie seeing us together. He stiffens a bit.

  “The girl needed a place to sleep. I just offered to share.”

  “I’m sure you did.” Leslie looks me over and then asks, “Did you sleep okay?”

  “Yes. He was a perfect gentleman.” I look over at Liam and he nods in agreement, but his eyes are laughing.

  “Whatever. Jon is making breakfast,” she says. Liam smiles at her and the scowl on her face softens. “All right, I won’t say anything.”

  “Thanks, Mom.” He kisses her cheek.

  She smiles at me and pushes Liam’s shoulder away. “Do you know where Jake-the-magnificent or Red slept?” Her tone indicates that Jake is far from magnificent.

  “No idea,” I say.

  “Will you help me find them? Sarah doesn’t want to miss the fitting and the car is going to be here at ten-thirty.”

  “Give us a minute. We’ll be right down,” says Liam.

  I had completely forgotten about the bridesmaids’ dress fitting. It’s the reason Sarah had us come out for the weekend. I look over at Liam. He’s shirtless. And beautiful. And contemplative.

  When Leslie leaves, he says, “Help me with these blankets?”

  We fold the blankets from our bed. It is such a weird thing to do with a guy. They usually just leave them in a heap. Most guys don’t give a damn about leaving a mess. He must care about what Sarah thinks of him and that is a maturity I’m not used to. I set the last blanket on the top of the pile and look up to him standing in my personal space.

  He scrunches his face on one side and says, “I wanted to say goodbye before we’re in front of everyone.”

  “It’s okay, Nordstrom.” I smile at his vulnerable expression. “I knew what this was. I don’t expect anything.”

  A look of relief flashes across his face and he places his hands on my hips. “I like you, Meg. I wish things were different.”

  His eyes are all dark and ominous, again. I don’t know what he means by different—if I lived in L.A.? If I wasn’t friends with Sarah? If Jon wasn’t so freaking controlling? I doubt that anything would make a difference. I stretch to reach his lips and silence him with a kiss.

  His hands find my ass and pull me to him. The kiss feels forlorn and definitely final. I hate goodbye. I push back. “I had a good time too. Maybe we can hook up at the wedding.” I smile and wink at him.

  “Definitely.” He cups my face in his hands and kisses my forehead. I can feel him separating from me and I know that is just the way life works for me. Whatever I want or love leaves and whatever is toxic I can’t get rid of.

  He follows me out of the room and I sense his eyes scorching my backside. It makes me smile. We meet Jessica and Leslie in the living room and they haven’t been able to find Jake Gorgeous-body or Alli. Who knows where they ended up? Jessica said, she and Leslie checked the main house completely and they weren’t there. I hope they didn’t leave. Sarah will kill them. We pass through the kitchen on our way to the courtyard and Jon is beating eggs in a glass bowl with a whisk. The nonverbal exchange between him and Liam is almost comical. It would be funny if I didn’t know it was about me. I head out into the courtyard to avoid Jon. I get that he doesn’t want the wedding messed up, but we’re adults.

  I look around and it’s obvious there was a party here last night. It’s nothing like the frat house, but there are empty beer bottles huddled on the bar. One dollar bills pile on the table under the veranda, just where we left them last night. I don’t see the blankets, though, so I think I know where Alli and Jake are. I knock loudly on the pool house door and announce, “Alli, we’ve got to get to the dress fitting.” I hear cussing and movement and there is no way I am opening the door. I find Alli’s swimsuit on the ground next to the table and toss it next to the pool house door. Jakes clothes are on the back of a chair, but he’s going to have to figure that one out without my aid. I help Leslie and Jessica pick up most of the bottles and toss them into the recycling…before Alli and Jake emerge into the courtyard. Leslie assures us she will finish cleaning up if we go get ready for the fitting.

  Chapter 11 />
  Liam

  I’M SITTING IN the courtyard with Jonathan, Jake, Sarah, Jessica, and Leslie. Jon’s made omelets with peppers and melted cheese, and I’ve just taken my first bite when Meg and Alli walk out of the house to join us. I’ve made a space for Meg next to me. I even secured a chair for her to keep her close, which she sits in. While Alli sits on Jakes lap, Meg and I barely acknowledge each other for Jon’s sake, and I appreciate she is mature enough to understand the situation with him.

  After breakfast, as the girls file out of the courtyard to catch their ride to the dress fitting, I can’t help staring at Megan’s perfect ass. It’s beautiful. I can still feel it in my hands as I pulled her against me last night. It took the willpower of a saint not to fuck her senseless. Am I fifteen again? I’m hard just thinking about it. Most girls don’t affect me like this, but she’s not like most girls. It’s as if she could take me or leave me. She pulled away from kisses, not just once, but a couple of times, and didn’t seem at all excited I put my number in her phone. Most chicks would have squealed like a little girl at the mere thought of getting my number.

  Damn. As I shift in my seat to give my boys more room, I look up to see Jonathan glaring at me—a scowl forming on his face.

  “Should I be worried about you and her at the wedding? Because I’m not getting a good feeling about last night and you don’t have the best reputation with sisters.” Jon raises an eyebrow before taking the last bite of his omelet.

  “No. We’re good.” I try my innocent look, but it just makes him scowl more. “I said I wouldn’t and I didn’t. I’m as trustworthy as a damn Boy Scout, what more can I say?” Though, if he knew what I did do, I’m pretty sure he would punch me and I’d have to let him because I deserve it. The girl is seriously attractive. Her blond hair and sexy blue eyes definitely fit into my brand of beautiful, but she also has this wit about her that kept me guessing about what was going on in her mind. It was hard to get a rise out of her, but when I did, she always had a spot-on comeback. And her long legs. What I wouldn’t do to have those gorgeous things wrapped around me. I shift again and Gorboni speaks up.

  “Well, I’m not. It’s always the quiet ones who turn out to be the screamers. Am I right?” He picks up the pitcher off the table and fills his glass half full with orange juice. “I’m telling you, she made my top ten of loudest lays.”

  I look to Jon. He’s pinching his lower lip between two fingers and shaking his head. We hang out with Jake because he keeps the world exciting. He’s not afraid to do crazy shit and he usually makes us laugh, but what Gorboni doesn’t realize is that Jon thinks of last night’s screamer as a sister and you don’t sex talk about a guy’s sister. Ever.

  “So what are we killing today, zombies or hookers?” I ask to break the tension. I’m running on about two hours of sleep. I’m going to need some downtime before we work off last night’s drinks in the weight room and video games will give me a chance to rest my body at least.

  “Aliens.” Jon gets up and starts gathering up the plates and glasses, placing them on a tray to carry them.

  I stand, grab the rest of the dishes, and follow him into the house. As we near the door, I pull Jake aside and whisper, “Sarah’s friends are untouchable. The less you talk about last night the better.” If he actually heeds my words, it will help me too. The less Jon knows about what happened between Meg and me, the better.

  Gorboni silently nods in understanding, and moves around Jon to open the door for us as his hands are empty. We spend the next two hours defending our home planet from aliens and no one brings up last night or the girls. Normally, we would be hearing a recap of Gorboni’s hookup, and I am thankful he’s able to keep his mouth shut today.

  When we move to the weight room, Jonathan opens up about his upcoming wedding. Non-disclosure agreements have already been sent to potential guests, which when they are signed, will allow the individual to receive an invitation with the event information on it. Once the invitation is received, a second NDA must be signed in order to RSVP for the wedding. Then, when the guests mount the private jet to the destination from either Los Angeles or Minneapolis, all electronic devices must be surrendered to keep pictures or stories from leaking to the press. I know the non-disclosure agreements will be solid because Dad’s firm wrote them and someone would have to be crazy to violate the contract. Jon, Jake, and I have all been to these types of events where you have to give up your phone upon entrance. It’s like valet parking—they give you a ticket and you get it back when you leave. I like these kinds of events. It’s freeing when you don’t have to worry about someone videoing you doing something stupid. A week on a tropical island without cameras with Meg will be incredible. Damn, I’m thinking about Meg again. And all the dirty little secrets we could share with each other that cameras couldn’t document.

  She’s like Jon’s sister. I can’t forget that. I’ve made the mistake before and it still haunts me. Not that Ellie’s brother and I were ever close, but he is part of my group of friends from high school I still keep in touch with and he will be at Jon’s wedding. What a mess.

  Ellie and I were better friends than her brother and I ever were. I knew she was attracted to me for a long time. She’d followed me around like a lovesick puppy since we were sixteen. It made sense she hung out with her twin brother and his friends. But, when she and I were alone, she made it clear she wanted me. In my mind, she wanted sex. In her mind, she wanted a relationship. We ended up in a secret relationship. When it didn’t work out, it wrecked my bond with her brother, and I won’t let that happen with Jonathan.

  I look up from the stationary bike I’m pedaling to see Jon spotting Jake on the bench press. It makes me wonder what kind of guy Meg dates. Is it some monster body builder like Jake, someone more like Jon and me—hard and fit, but still flexible—or some skinny prep with glasses and a doctorate? I can’t see her with a hipster. Although, she’s got a sharp mind and hipsters do a lot of deep thinking. I want to get to know her better. Maybe she could help me figure out what to do with Seth. Besides, Jon didn’t say I couldn’t call her. He just said don’t sleep with her.

  Chapter 12

  Megan

  THE REST OF the weekend buzzes by in a blur. My only regret is I didn’t get any more Liam-time. I don’t know if I will ever hear from him again. I’m pretty sure the number he typed into my phone is his, so maybe I will, and he will be at Sarah’s wedding. It doesn’t matter. I enjoyed the time we had together. It was what it was and I refuse to slut-shame myself for it. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.

  I don’t share the night’s adventures with my friends, though. They don’t need to know everything. They figure something happened between Liam and me, but I don’t tell them about dancing at the club, the naked sandwich, or sharing my dark secret about my mom with him. The last one would probably blow them away. And, yeah, maybe I didn’t share everything, but just to talk about my mom’s death at all is a big step for me.

  Alli was too wrapped up in her own experience with Jake “Gorgeous-body” that she couldn’t listen to anything I said, anyway. Honestly, sometimes I wish she could keep her sexcapades to herself—just don’t want to know the details. The entire flight back was a recap of her night. After all her hyping of the experience she admitted it wasn’t the best sex of her life.

  I have to confess my night with Liam, even though we didn’t technically seal the deal, was the most sexually-charged experience, I’ve ever had, and it will be the one I measure every other guy against. Every touch of his hand, every caress of his lips, blew any other man into the stone ages. Even though I had already fallen for his TV character, I know I would still be enamored by him. Sure, they look like each other, but he and Ashton Post are not that alike. Liam is playful in and out of bed and an incredible dancer. He’s open about his personal life and is far less brooding than his character. Face it, he’s sexier than his character. I know it was just a one-night stand for him, but I hope he didn’t ruin me—set the ba
r so high no attainable guy can compare.

  ***

  All of us at the house have been on edge since we returned home from our weekend in Hollywood. Alli’s parents reamed her out for hours in the living room about being held to a higher standard of expectation as a med student. They had to be stalking Sarah online in order to have even seen the pictures. They spent most of Sunday evening trying to force Alli to pack up her belongings and move home with them because she was “ruining her career with her irresponsible lips,” and, if she didn’t make some major changes to rectify what she’d done, they wouldn’t be paying for her schooling. Apparently, med students can be dropped from their program for unprofessional conduct.

  It probably didn’t help when I jokingly said, “I guess we shouldn’t tell them about the sex tape.” I was just trying to show the situation with the kiss pictures could always be worse. The death glare Alli’s mother gave me could have killed a village of small children, but I’ve grown immune to it over the six years Alli and I have been friends.

  It was ridiculous such innocent images on a tabloid could be devastating to Alli’s career. Sure, Gorboni had dipped her back in full lip lock and pulled Alli’s leg up around his hip, but she still had all her clothes on and his hands weren’t under her shirt or anything. Sarah said the pictures would be news for a week at the most, and then they would fade into oblivion. Besides, Alli’s name wasn’t attached to them so I didn’t understand what all the fuss was about.

  Two days have passed since my comment about the sex tape. And, just as I thought all had been forgiven, Jessica peeks her head into my room with the meanest expression I’ve ever seen on her face. What is her problem?

  “Megan, there’s a delivery at the door for you.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t hear the doorbell.” I can’t help that I didn’t hear the bell. If she answered the door, why couldn’t she just take the package?

  I head downstairs as she mumbles under her breath, entering her room. When I reach the heavy wooden door and pull it open, I figure out why she is so mad. It’s not a delivery guy. It’s Chase. He smiles and hands me a small box with a giant red bow. I hold the door open and motion for him to come in. Why didn’t she just tell me it was Chase?

 

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