And of course I would fall for a woman afraid of love, hurt by it so badly she couldn’t see what was before us on this plane. We were both very much alive and meant to share this human world together. I just needed to convince her of that.
I don’t begrudge her the grief she feels. Quite the opposite. I want her to let her dead husband go, yet cherish his memory and their time together. It’s part of her past. I want her to make room for me in her world, her future. I needed her to consider the possibility that she may love again. I may be the one to make that reality possible. Queen mother, I was bloody tired. After a night like this, sleep never sounded so good.
Thoughts of snuggling up to her were interrupted by a vibrating noise. London’s phone lit and rattled against the wooden side table where she’d dropped her purse in our haste to be filled with each other.
I grabbed the phone and saw Tripp’s annoyingly handsome mug on the screen. In the image his arms wrapped around London in what I would consider a more than friendly embrace. Smarmy cocksucker. The phone continued to ring as I glanced at the nightstand clock. Fucking two-thirty in the morning. And he’s calling her? Probably drunk dialing her. Imbecile.
Without a second thought, I answered the phone. Before I could say hello, Tripp started speaking.
“Bridge, baby, I need you.” His voice sounded guttural, inhuman. Fear and anger split through my thoughts. My hands shook with the energy it took for me to not rip into him.
“It’s Collier. What can I help you with, Tripp? It’s two-thirty in the fucking morning mate. This better be good!” Apparently my ability to stay calm went out the window, along with my sanity. He had no right to call her at this hour, knowing she was in my arms for Christ’s sake. Friend or not, I will not have him interrupting our time together for his loser shite.
“I need her. Now. Please?“ His voice trailed. I could hear a muffled sob through the line.
“Who is it?” London’s blue eyes looked worried. I was glad she wasn’t pissed that I answered her phone. Even though I thought of us as an official couple, she might not agree, even after the monumental thing we discovered this evening.
“It’s for you.” I handed her the phone, unable to conceal the contempt in my voice. Her eyes narrowed as she gripped the towel around her body and reached for the phone.
Water ran in rivulets from her hair into the sexy crease between her breasts. Christ, she was wet and slick like Amphitrite, the Greek water goddess, and the mate of Poseidon in Greek mythology. Right now, I wanted nothing more than to be her mate. To rage the seas and cross oceans with her by my side for all of eternity. Instead, I had to listen to her take a call from her best friend, otherwise known as ’dick in a glass case’: Break in case of emergency.
“Hello?” Her face instantly tightened as she slumped down on the edge of the bed. “Tripp honey, what’s the matter. What do you mean?” She listened a couple moments. “Don’t you dare. I mean it. You will ruin everything. Fucking everything you’ve worked for.” Anger made her spring into action. She immediately rifled through her suitcase and shoved on a pair of jeans, sans underwear.
That did not make me happy. I had to grit my teeth while watching her. She grabbed my t-shirt from the back of the chair and threw it over her head and screamed into the phone. At least it was my shirt. Again, she didn’t take the time to encase her perfect breasts in an undergarment.
“What the fuck is going on?” I grabbed a clean pair of jeans, sliding them on. Whatever she was doing, she was most certainly preparing to go somewhere. Wherever she was going, I was going too. Non-negotiable. She threw up a hand to cut me off.
Rage fired through my entire body as I watched the woman I lo…what? The woman I what? Loved? I couldn’t even think about that right now.
“I’ll be right there. Don’t you do it, Tripp. Don’t. No. Yes, God, yes. I love you. More than anyone.” Those three words put me at a screeching halt. All the air left my chest and I slumped onto the bed. I put my head in my hands. She loves him. More than anyone. Fuck!
She hung up the phone and slipped on some shoes. “I have to go. I’m sorry. I need to pick up Tripp.”
“What do you mean? If he’s drunk or whatever, he can take a cab for crying out loud!” I roared.
She swung her head back. “It’s not like that. He’s about to use. I have to go get him. Right now. I’m sorry. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
“You’re fucking kidding, right? Tripp calls and you run off? London, stay. Just stay,” I pleaded, wanting her to understand.
“I can’t.” She shook her head; there were tears in her beautiful blue eyes.
“Yes, you can. He can take care of himself. He’s a big man. But this, me and you, right now…this is our time.” I struggled to get the words out. I wanted and needed her to understand how serious I was about her not leaving right now. For him.
“You don’t understand, Collier. He needs me. I have to go.” She turned and walked through the flat to the door.
“This is bloody insane! We’ve just had a night of incredible shagging. I thought it meant something this time.”
Tears welled in her eyes once more and she walked over to me to cup both my cheeks in her small chilled hands. For a second I thought I might actually convince her to stay. To not leave me for him. Just like Claire left me for that rich fucker.
“It has meant more than anything to me in a very long time.” She kissed me hard and pulled away. “But I can’t let my best friend down. He’s in a world of hurt, and about to use drugs again. It’s my job to pull him out. Do you understand?” Her gaze searched mine, pleading.
I shook my head. “No. No, I don’t fucking understand. I’m exhausted and am being denied sleeping next to the one woman in the entire world I want to be with. Who I know, I can feel, wants to be with me. Yet, she’s leaving me for another man.”
“It’s not like that--.”
“Isn’t it?” I cut her off.
Her hands trembled as she pulled her hair over her shoulder and twirled a fat lock of black hair. “I have to go.”
“Stay.” I tried one more time. It was now or nothing.
She shook her head.
“Then I’m coming with you.” I gritted my teeth and grabbed my keys off the counter. I stood in jeans, bare feet, no shirt and I was ready to drop everything for her. To help another man.
“I’m sorry.” A tear slipped down her cheek and she rushed to the door. “You can’t be a part of this. It’s not fair to Tripp.”
“Tripp?” I grabbed her arm. “Are you fucking kidding me? I’m making a compromise here. Help pull his ass out of whatever shite he’s pulling you into and you’re telling me I can’t go?”
“I can’t do that to him. He’s already hurting.”
“He’s hurting? You’re hurting me, London!” I roared.
She looked at me, tears spilled down her cheek. Even now I wanted to comfort her, pull her into my arms and make her feel warm and safe. Loved. She wanted no part of it.
“I’m sorry,” she said and I let her go.
When she left, the air in the flat stifled me with staleness, loss, and despair.
I ran to the balcony, took in a huge gulp of air and looked down just as she looked up, then stepped into a taxi. The first woman I’ve had feelings for in years and she walked out. Maybe forever. I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure I’d ever know.
London left to be with him. No, to save him. Was there a fucking difference?
Why did I have to fall for the one woman who not only was afraid to love me but was in a codependent relationship with her very male best mate? Maybe it was time to stop trying. Just let the bloody bird go. Stop giving a flying fig. It would definitely lessen the pain, the hurt I’d undoubtedly go through if I continued down this path with an unstable woman.
Was she really unstable though? Definitely hurting. Still grieving from the loss of her husband. And presently in a toxic relationship with an ex addict that she used to shag. Not to
mention she’s the sister of one of Stone & Walkers’ biggest clients, the Aspen Reynolds, billionaire business tycoon.
What the hell was I thinking, getting mixed up in her shite? All for what? For London.
Christ! Even thinking her name sent warmth spilling through my fingers and toes, warming my body from the inside out. Shite, it’s too late. Too fucking late. The bloody bird already owned me.
Chapter - 15
It had been two weeks since the ’royal blowoff’ as I’d taken to calling it. Two torturous weeks of knowing exactly why Collier was avoiding me. When I got the call from Tripp in the middle of the night, I jumped right into action. It had only ever been me and Tripp. Dropping everything in his moment of need came second nature to me. Answering to a man in my life had never been the slightest concern since James. They were all expendable. Collier was anything but expendable.
Looking back, I know I handled it poorly. So many different scenarios have run through my mind on countless loops over the past fourteen days. What I could have said to him. How I could have done a better job of explaining why it was so important that I be there for Tripp. Explaining that I wasn’t tending to him as a lover but as a true friend. I would have done the same if Aspen or Rio had asked for help.
That’s where Tripp was in my life. He’d been relegated to brother status. I love him, will always love him but I’m not in love with him. Not the way I am with…shit.
Am I in love with Collier? No, it’s not possible. People only ever get one go at finding true love. I’d had mine with James. The one I’d lost. At this stage, I’d venture a guess that I’d lost both men who had become more than a friend or lover. James and now Collier.
I tried each day to reach out to Collier, but he hasn’t returned any of my texts or voicemails. I only allowed myself one olive branch a day. Today I thought for sure he’d be at the airport in time to board the jet to Texas for Hank and Aspen’s wedding but I underestimated his desire to toss me out of his life for good.
He’d asked me to stay. Repeatedly. Instead, I beat feet it out so fast you’d have thought I was walking over hot coals. Figuratively, I was. Not only did I need to get to Tripp, I needed to get away from Collier. What we’d experienced blew my mind. And it was not just the physicality of our love-making. It was the mental connection; the shared pleasure that went beyond physical walls and a sexually gratifying experience. It was unearthly. Not something I dared to think I’d ever go through again.
No, that night was a huge cluster-fuck from the moment I picked up the phone.
Prior to that, I’d quite possibly had the best date of my life. The only other one that compared was our first date a month ago. The connection we shared even then crackled and fizzed in the air around us. The night out for pizza and a classic movie, the risqué sex we shared in the dark movie theater were things they write books about. The stuff movies are created from.
Then to top it off, back-breaking sex followed by an intense round of lovemaking that moved the earth and me right along with it. Even after, we couldn’t get enough of one another and had another go round in the shower…right before everything turned to shit.
Each moment with Collier seemed better than the last. We were building to something more. The very ‘more’ I’d promised I’d try for. And then I ran off to go to Tripp.
Could it possibly be over? Did I screw it up so badly he couldn’t stand the thought of speaking to me, of hearing my voice?
Chills and nausea formed a pit in my gut. I’d been nursing it for the better part of a week. Knowing what I did made me sick to my stomach. Losing the one man in years that had reached me on a level that inspired me, made me feel cherished. A man who worshiped my body and hugged my soul cutting right to the center of my being.
Recently I’d been going over all my past choices and had found I’m not very proud of the things I’ve done. Collier makes me want more for myself, for him. For us.
Considering possibilities with a man, any man, is not something I’d remotely contemplated since losing James. The feeling hit home, churned and twisted my thoughts, forcing me to face the facts. I might have lost him and I had no one to blame but myself.
It still broke me that he didn’t arrive at the airport to board Aspen’s jet.
At this point, I wasn’t even sure he and his brother were attending the wedding, though I don’t think Nate would flake on Hank. They’d become close friends over the past few months. And they were business men. When Aspen Bright-Reynolds invited you to her small country wedding, you pretty much dropped everything on your to-do list and got your ass to Texas.
Her account was huge to Stone, Walker & Associates. I didn’t doubt she was their biggest client, even knowing they catered to the rich and famous on legal matters across the globe. Still, my sister was worth billions, stacked on top of more billions, which were sitting on solid gold bricks. You just didn’t screw over the hand that feeds you. If she left their company, they’d lose millions of dollars of legal representation for AIR Bright Enterprises. And if other big wigs see Aspen move away from them, they might jump right on the bandwagon and follow the leader.
The only hope I held onto was that Collier would be at the wedding and I’d steal a chance to speak with him. Corner him somewhere. Get Oliver to help. Maybe Nate. Anyone.
Explaining what happened that night was important. Even if he didn’t listen and still wanted nothing to do with me, not having a chance to explain was hell on my conscience.
“Bridge, we’ll be landing soon.” Tripp held my hand. I squeezed it in return and continued to stare out the window, lost in my own thoughts.
Tripp had been giving me space after that horrible night when I left Collier to tend to him. When I found Tripp at the party in a scuzzy broken-down warehouse, two barely-dressed coked out skanks were rubbing all over him. White powder still sprinkled the table in front of his spread legs. I’d lost it. I went straight psycho on his ass.
One girl had her hand down his pants and the other was trying to get him to smoke crank or coke, God only knows what, out of a pipe she literally held at his lips. Her bare tits and the pipe were waving in front of my poor Tripp’s face like a veritable feast of sin and sex.
I broke three fingers punching skank number one in the face, knocking the pipe out of her hands. Even now, the three fingers on my right hand were taped together.
The wedding planner freaked out as if I’d committed a cardinal sin by breaking my fingers, more concerned about perfect wedding photos than my health. Tripp had served as a nursemaid and personal calligrapher since I was unable to write well with just the use of my thumb and forefinger.
Finishing off Dylan’s home reveal had been painstakingly difficult. The end result was incredible and Dylan couldn’t be more pleased.
The same night Tripp went to an after party with Skank 1 and Skank 2, Dylan had a very successful night out on the town. Not only did he come home with six different girl’s phone numbers, he actually brought home a woman he met at the bar.
They had a wonderful night partaking of each other’s bodies. Come sunup, she went on her merry way. Dylan couldn’t have been happier. Not only did he have a night of amazing guilt-free sex, he felt revived and attractive to the opposite sex with renewed interested in living life.
Now he knew there was more he needed to experience than just accounting and rolling in the dough. My job was done. Happy client. Mission accomplished.
Then why did I feel like rubbish? Rubbish. Collier would say rubbish. London says garbage or trash. Six weeks of knowing my sexy Englishman and I had already picked up his lingo.
“Hey, London, you okay?” Aspen came over and sat down. Her baby bump was visible in the tight sweater and slacks she wore. Her eyes shone against the angora sweater matching her gray eyes. They reminded me of a crystal diamond with edges that sparkled in the light. Her golden hair was pulled back into a smart pony tail. She must have done her own hair today. Ollie did not make a habit of simple hairdos. No
, he’d have twisted, curled and pulled magic out of his ass to make her look like she was the winning contestant in a hair contest.
Speaking of the devil. Oliver glided into the seat next to Aspen, across from me and Tripp. “Is the maid of honor unable to do her duties? You know I’m ready to jump right in with two shakes of a lambs tail.” His smile was laced with mischief. If he wasn’t my sister’s best friend in the entire world, and one of my best friends by proxy, I’d consider an evil pinch to his thigh.
Oliver continued, “Wait until you see the lambs, London. They are so white and poufy!” His eyes lit and Aspen smiled, bumping his shoulder affectionately.
“I’m fine, Sis. Yes, Ollie, I’m perfectly capable of handling my duties as my sister’s right hand woman, unlike some people who have to stand for sloppy seconds.” I gave in to my desire to lighten my heartache for a bit.
Oliver looked panicked. “Oh my, God. Aspen? Is that what I am? No better than a Sloppy Joe with soggy buns?”
“Really, London? You had to mess with him? With this wedding in two days, he’s a complete mess. You’d think he was the one getting married.” Aspen rolled her eyes and blew her long swooping bangs to the side.
“We are getting married. Remember? You, me and the hunky cowboy. Oh, and my fireman.” Ollie clapped and winked across the plane to where Dean and Hank were deep in conversation about which football team would make it to the Superbowl this year. Of course Hank was convinced the Cowboys were a sure thing, but Dean wasn’t buying it.
“I heard that, buddy. You are not marrying my woman. Cut the crap.”
“Oh stuff it big boy!” Ollie squealed. “How many times do I have to tell you she was mine first!” Point for Ollie. He was right. Hank harrumphed and continued chatting with Dean.
London Falling (The Falling Series) Page 18