Fragile Kiss (Fragile Series, #2)

by Lexy Timms

  “I didn’t ask him to spread the word about my business to his hook-ups.”

  “I thought you just said you weren’t sure if he was hooking up with her or not.”

  Lillian’s loud groan startled the cat, who jumped to her feet with saucer-sized eyes. “It’s okay, kitty, lie back down,” she tried to soothe the animal, but made an ugly face at Andrew. “I know I’m going back and forth. Obviously, I’m conflicted about this.”

  “Make up your mind, already.” He said it in a low voice, but it was passive-aggressive enough to make her blood boil.

  “What’s your problem, Andrew? You’re being really obstinate right now.”

  He set both feet on the floor and scooted forward to the edge of the sofa. “Of course. I think this is a big mistake, and I think you’ll end up getting back together with Cayden.”

  “Honestly, that’s not the worst thing in the world that could happen, you know. He’s not a serial killer. He’s a great guy; it was just my choice to break up with him because I saw how I would hold him back in the future.”

  “It seems bad enough to me. You can’t seem to get over him.”

  Lillian was fuming. “How can you say that? I just broke up with him a week ago! The wounds are still fresh!”

  “I wanted to help you get over it quickly.”

  “You are helping, but not by acting so coldhearted about the whole thing.”

  “Maybe I’m being sort of cold about it because I wanted something different.”

  His words froze her. Please, no. Not this again. Please don’t do this, Andrew.

  “Maybe...” The corners of his mouth turned down. “Maybe I wanted you to see how much happier you are with me than you were with Cayden.”

  “Andrew,” she tried, without any plan of what she should say after his name.

  “I know,” he cut her off. “I know I shouldn’t have brought it up. I thought last time was going to be the only time, but I couldn’t shake it. And now you’re single—”

  At a loss, Lillian held up her hand to stop his rant from going any further. “Andrew, please stop.”

  “I’m sorry.” Immediately he stopped talking, but she knew by his face and tense body language that he wasn’t done yet. “I wouldn’t leave you, Lillian.”

  “You live in another city, Andrew. Think about it.”

  “I would move here. I would ask for a transfer to this factory, here in Hanneston.”

  “You don’t even know if that would pan out.” She was trying to get him to think about what he was saying, but realized she was encouraging his ideas. “Listen, it’s not even worth your energy trying to figure it out.”

  The sadness in his eyes when he dared to look at her almost put tears in hers.

  “I’m sorry, Andrew,” she whispered.

  “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

  “It’s okay.”

  “It might all be psychological.” He swallowed, and Lillian knew it was the dreaded lump of emotion. “You know the anniversary is coming up.”

  All at once, Lillian’s heart stopped. The room disappeared as she realized what month it was.

  “I...” she squeaked, but couldn’t say anything.

  Andrew cast his gaze out the window at the darkness. “So I might just be missing her. And you’re the closest thing to her that I have.”

  She felt the world start to spin and clutched the arm of the chair. It felt like lying down after a few too many tequila shots. No matter how sleepy you are, the spinning makes your stomach churn.

  “Can we forget this conversation happened?”

  It was a simple question, and asked so innocently. “Andrew,” she whispered, “I’ll be here for you forever. You don’t have to worry about losing me. And you know Amelia is with us, too.”

  He shook his head.

  “I know she is,” Lillian said, and let out a tinkly laugh. “Whenever I’m losing my shit, I literally hear her voice in my head calling me out on it.”

  That brought a smile to Andrew’s face. “Sounds just like Sis.”

  “I mean, where would we be today without her voice of reason?”

  “Probably still trying to establish a successful dog-walking business,” Andrew said nonchalantly, and at the reminder of their younger days they both laughed. For a split-second, it felt like Amelia was there laughing along with them. The air turned much lighter from its prior negativity.

  Andrew started to laugh harder than before, and Lillian wondered what in the world had gotten into him. He was holding his face in his hands, and she quickly realized he wasn’t laughing anymore. He was crying.

  In an instant she was by his side, holding him tight and rocking him back and forth. Visions of the three of them together before Amelia was killed haunted her mind, and she was brought to tears. When Andrew felt her wracking sobs, he put his arms around her also.

  They cried on the couch together for several minutes, letting their grief separate from them at last. Although they weren’t talking, they both were seeing the same things inside their minds: the three of them walking along an old railroad. Ice cream dates. Stealing beer from the stock in the fridge late at night. Amelia hugging them for good luck before a job interview. Andrew and Lillian waving as she drove off. Coffee at a local place down the street, just the two of them, talking about how well she would do in her interview. The phone ringing an hour later. Rushing to the hospital. Lots of machines with lines that should have been fluctuating. Too many tears to see the rest.

  Finally, Lillian pulled back and looked Andrew in the eye. “I think she would want me to take this job. It’s a really good chance for me.”

  Andrew, after a long pause, nodded slightly. “If you think you should, then do it. I’ll be waiting for you when you come back.”

  THE NEXT MORNING WAS full of phone calls. Lillian called each of her appointments to confirm the week off, and arranged for someone to come look after the cats on the days after Andrew left.

  I hope this Katharina girl doesn’t cancel on me after making all these phone calls, she thought after everything was done. She called Katharina, who answered the phone with more of a statement about Lillian coming to Los Angeles than a question of whether she could or not.

  The dialogue was short, and the flight was booked within an hour. It was direct, and it was business-class.

  Lillian desperately hoped this was a sign that her time in the city would be worth all the emotional drama.

  Andrew would be in town for a couple more days, so he would drive her to the airport the next morning. He worked all day, so they didn’t have much time to spend together before she left. Alone in the house all afternoon, she tidied up and packed. The cats knew she was leaving; they circled around her feet and tried to trip her the whole day.

  Andrew came back from work late. They ate sandwiches. Drank tea. Andrew crashed in his room before he could manage a shower. The house was quiet again, save for soft, intermittent snoring.

  Midnight rolled around. Lillian tried to sleep but it was impossible. The cats were irritated with her constant tossing and turning, and eventually gave up on trying to sleep on the bed with her. Angrily, they stalked out of the room down the hall.

  Lillian sighed, at a loss for how to pass the time. She sat on the floor, picking through her bags to make sure she hadn’t forgotten any of her vitamins or prescriptions. They were all there. So were all her outfits—too many outfits for a trip that wouldn’t last longer than a week.

  I’m so bored, she admitted, and the instant she thought it she realized she knew nothing about Katharina. Picking up her phone, she curled up in the bed and did a search to find out as much as she could about this woman that Cayden may or may not be hooking up with.

  Katharina Solberg is an actress, film producer, and director. As Lillian read her official bio, her eyes grew to twice their usual size. Katharina was definitely in Cayden’s clientele, and had a resume impressive enough that her owning a house in Los Angeles only made sense.


  Lillian wondered if she was going to get star-struck when meeting this woman for the first time. She hoped not. She’s just a human, too, she reminded herself. She’s no different than me. Only she’s probably met every celebrity in the industry at one time or another.

  Trying to shift her mental image of Katharina from untouchably famous to personal, she clicked the links to her social media. The first thing she saw: 1.2 million followers.

  Keep trying to tell yourself she’s the same as everyone else, Lillian. Sighing, she scrolled down. Photos of a gorgeous garden she assumed was Katharina’s personal one. Outfits branded from head to toe. State-of-the-art gym equipment, workout selfies, motivational quotes...

  Then, a series of photos of Cayden. Some with her, some only him.

  Lillian’s heart flew into her throat. Without thinking, she clicked on one. A photo of him leaning against the railing of a picturesque wooden bridge.

  This handsome man! The best personal trainer. Always challenging me to do my best but never going easy on me. I have never looked or felt better. He has room for more clients, ladies!

  She felt sick as she scrolled through the photos and read every caption. How many had Cayden been the photographer of? Katharina obviously was infatuated with Cayden, showering him with compliments for every photo he was in. According to her, he was a Greek god, pun intended. He was the best trainer she had ever hired. He had the best attitude. The best body. Deserved to train all the top celebs for their action movie roles. She was going to make sure he was the next big sought-after trainer in Hollywood.

  Lillian closed the app, praying for some miracle that the time wouldn’t be too late for her to call Katharina and cancel the trip. It was after 1o’clock in the morning. Definitely too late. And her flight departed at 7:00. She wracked her brain for some way to get out of this, but in such a short time frame it seemed impossible.

  I could just not go to the airport. I could blame it on being sick. It seemed too desperate, and Katharina had already spent money on the plane ticket. Lillian tried to convince herself that the woman wouldn’t even miss the money for a business-class flight, but to no avail. Her conscience got the best of her.

  She felt her stomach begin to gurgle, the warning sign of a flare-up. Suddenly, not being able to fly due to sickness didn’t feel like such a great idea.

  The conversation with Andrew earlier can’t be for nothing. If I don’t go, our argument is pointless. Andrew was already planning to get up an hour earlier than usual to drive her to the airport, anyway. She couldn’t do that to him. Nixing the plans was out of the question.

  I guess I’ll just have to go and prove that I’m moving on. She knew she was far from it, but the phrase “fake it till you make it” echoed in her mind. That’s what you’ve got to do, Lillian, she told herself firmly. Pretend that you’re fine, especially if you’re around him. Maybe Katharina knows about your past, maybe she doesn’t. Either way, you can’t let yourself show it. Not on a business trip.

  One of the cats drowsily wandered back in and leapt onto the bed, snuggling hard against her. Nestling down in her mass of pillows Lillian switched off her lamp and lay there, trying to give herself a pep talk. Eventually, just before the first rays of morning sunlight touched the stars, she fell asleep.

  Chapter 06

  The sun was particularly brilliant this morning—or so it seemed to Cayden. As he woke, he shielded his eyes and groaned at the light, acting something like a vampire in daylight. His whole room looked like Heaven: impossibly bright, like the light was bouncing off every surface and reflecting straight into his eyes. Even with his hands covering his face, he could still feel his eyeballs burning.

  Muttering a few nasty words that he felt bad for saying in retrospect, he stumbled out of bed and made his way to the window, kicking the corner of his dresser in the process. Adding to his string of curses, he felt for the curtains with one hand and pulled them together forcefully. He dared to look through a crack between his fingers, and was relieved beyond belief to see the room enshrouded in darkness.

  “That’s better,” he croaked, only to discover that his throat felt like it was on fire. He walked on nine toes over to his little kitchen, and chugged most of a bottle of water. It helped, but his head still had the sensation of having been opened and put in the middle of a desert to dry.

  He scowled at himself. That’s what you get for having a crazy night when you haven’t partied in a long time.

  Little snapshots of the night before came back to him in flashes. Katharina had invited him over. A “small gathering,” she had called it. He knew that didn’t mean what it did for him back at his house. When he said small party, he actually meant it. When Katharina said it there were at least fifty people on the guest list, not including the ones who showed up throughout the night.

  He let himself fall onto the bed, propping his head up on two of the memory foam pillows Janine had provided him with. He draped his arm over his face and tried to ignore the remnants of the spins. In the fogginess of his thoughts, he tried to remember how many shots he’d thrown back and who he’d danced with. All he remembered was that Katharina bought a round for everyone, and then everyone else bought a round for the group. A lot of laughter. Too much alcohol. The details were too fuzzy to recall, aside from the club’s great DJ.

  Cayden made a mental vow never to jump into the party life so suddenly after such a long period of doing the opposite.

  He fell asleep in that position, and so did his arm. When he woke up again, he had lost all sensation in his upper limb and had to physically move it with his other hand. The pins and needles trickled down his arm as the blood flowed back into it; watching his arm rest so helplessly on the bed brought a chuckle to his throat. Out of habit, he reached for his phone to text Lillian. He didn’t realize what he was doing until he opened her messages and saw the one about moving on.

  Crestfallen, he stared at her name and was tempted to read through their whole message thread to feel like she was still there—like she would reply with a silly joke and then ask how his weekend was going.

  He loved hearing from her. In their distance, the technology connection became something extra important for him, whereas before it never had been. The miles between them didn’t seem like such a terrible thing when they could call each other and talk for hours every night. But now, with no exchange of any call or message, the pain grew bitter. Especially today, no thanks to his hangover.

  Finally his arm was back to normal, but he still didn’t move. He zoned out, letting his mind explore all possibilities to get her back. It wasn’t going to happen if he was still in Los Angeles.

  He had to get out of here and go back home.

  What would happen if I went back? I know I could make it happen again between us. Moving back would show her that I’m not going anywhere. The thought distracted him from the killer headache for a few minutes as he envisioned just how he was going to win Lillian’s heart again. If they were in the same place, next door to each other, it would be easier to be together again.

  I want to fix this. He couldn’t help but harbor some guilt over their breakup. If he’d just been more straightforward with Janine from the beginning that he would only be gone for, say, three months maximum, maybe this wouldn’t have happened.

  Checking the time, he was relieved to find that he still had plenty of time before his morning engagement. Janine had arranged for a few of Los Angeles’ top personal trainers—all recommended to her by word of mouth from other millionaires and big-wigs—to come to her gym today and interview with Cayden. After she had told him yesterday about meeting with them, he walked with his chin higher and with a little more swagger than he usually did.

  He didn’t feel like he could walk with any swagger right now, especially since he didn’t have Lillian’s lap to lie on while she scratched his head. He closed his eyes and could almost feel her fingernails gently raking his scalp.

  His cell phone beeped just as he began to
nod off again. It must be Janine. No one else texted him before 9:00 am. Picking up the phone, he was surprised to see Katharina’s name pop up on the screen.

  What are you doing later, Handsome?

  Part of him loved the fact that “Handsome” was her nickname for him—he was pretty damn handsome, after all, and he knew it just as well as anyone else did—but the other part of him cringed every time she said it. He couldn’t get Lillian out of his mind when he was with Katharina, and hearing her call him something flirty felt wrong even after he had been clearly instructed to see other people. He felt like he was becoming his mother, who cheated on his father, and then his ex-girlfriend, who cheated on him. Anything close to infidelity was a huge trigger for him.

  Still drowsy, Cayden blinked a few times to clear the blurriness from his eyes. His reply took twice as long to type as it should have because his clumsy, sleepy fingers kept hitting the wrong letters. I have something this morning, but I’m free this afternoon. He was glad Janine was out again today. It was rare for her to miss two days in a row of workouts, but today was not a day he wanted to exert himself.

  He didn’t expect her to respond so quickly, but it came in no time. I desperately need a workout after last night. My body feels like jelly. Could you come?

  What time? he texted.

  Perhaps around one. I also have something to do this morning.

  One is fine. I’ll see you then. Thinking their conversation was over he put down his phone, but it promptly beeped again.

  What is your something?

  Cayden smiled. It was just like her to be nosy and ask everything he was doing. I’m interviewing some trainers for Janine after I go back home.

  Oh, you can’t go home. I need you here. I have so many people who want to hire you.

  The prospect sounded great. If his heart wasn’t tied somewhere else with someone else, getting established so quickly here was a dream come true. He was already thriving career-wise, but it didn’t feel right without Lillian.

  We’ll see, was the only thing he could think of to reply. What’s your something?