by Larkin Rose
Khandi stalled at the threshold. “Fine, I’ll go, but you have to read this one. Amelia sent it for you. Hot off the press.” She shoved the last magazine into Eve’s hands.
“Wait! What? Amelia? From Ruccar? Why are you talking to her?” Eve had avoided contacting her about the new itinerary, too afraid she’d mention Jodi’s name. She could have easily handed the task to Khandi, but dumping her normal chores on anyone else made her feel like a loser.
A devilish smile washed over Khandi’s face. “Oh, we’re tight like this now.” She crossed her fingers, proving to Eve that she’d been right to keep the last bit of the secrets to herself, that Jodi was Lexi. “We have dibs on which of you is more miserable.”
Khandi started down the hall and yelled over her shoulder. “Page thirty-two. Read it! Jodi looks hot! Or should I call her Lexi?”
Eve gasped and slammed the door. Was there one morsel of her fucking life that someone else didn’t know?
And miserable? Bullshit! She wasn’t miserable. Misery couldn’t be further from what she felt. She stomped back to her desk, trying to reassure herself of that fact, and dropped into the chair with a huff.
Tonight, she’d venture to the lesbian bar. She’d snatch up the first willing butch she laid her eyes on, and she’d fuck her until the sun kissed the morning sky. Miserable, my ass.
Curiosity getting the better of her, she checked to make sure Khandi wasn’t standing outside the office glass window, then thumbed to the page. There was Jodi, leaning against the building of her condo, the very building where she’d fucked Eve over and over. Her insides clenched. Dammit. It was unsettling how her body completely had a mind of its own.
She started reading the article, strongly aware that she was hanging on every word, that her heart was ripping and tears were streaming down her face.
*
Jodi stood on the sidewalk looking up at the mirrored high-rise looming against the London skyline like a magnificent giant. In that building, she’d made a fresh beginning. Inside those walls, she’d made love and lost the woman of her dreams.
And now she was ready to leave it behind, in the caring hands of its new owners, people who would turn every floor and room into a homeless facility. She’d only minutes ago signed the final paperwork and handed over the deed. It was done, complete.
Within a year, once all the tenants had left, every homeless teenager would have a place to go, no questions asked, for a roof over their head, out of the cold, away from the hands that meant them harm. They would never go hungry or be afraid.
Their security was her gift, in honor of her parents, in honor of herself.
Physically tired of the memories, of always remembering, and ready to move ahead, Jodi glanced down the street. People rushed by her, umbrellas open, oblivious to the idiot standing in the rain, unprotected from the cold drops.
It was here, in the cleansing rain, where the real magic was at work, washing away all vestiges of the bad. Not the building or the bright white apartment that would form the social hub of the project. Her past, the hurt, the horrible memories, it all faded with the dampening drops, made everything fresh and new, crisp, clear.
This city had been her home for a very long time. It’d also been her nightmare and her dreams.
Now it was time to leave it all behind. It was time to move on. Time to start brand new.
Her savings would take her anywhere her heart desired. The world was now her playground. She could do anything, be anyone. Never again would she be that escort, or a sex operator, and never again would she allow a day to pass her by that she wasn’t looking for love. That home, that fence, that garage, and that damn dog, she was going to have it all. All she had to do was be free, open, and wait.
The one would come. And Jodi would be ready for her this time, her eyes, mind, and heart wide open.
Until then, she’d breathe. And take one day at a time.
With a sigh, she started down the street and immediately thought of Eve. Thanks to Eve, she’d find all she desired. Witnessing Eve run from love had shown Jodi just how desperate she was to find it. How ready she was to own it.
Fifteen minutes later, she came to the studio. She recalled the last time she’d seen Eve’s face. Nothing had ever torn the seam of her heart apart like Eve’s broken expression had. Her confusion, her hurt, had jerked at Jodi’s emotions like nothing else.
What she wouldn’t give to have a woman like her, feisty, strong-willed, yet tender and vulnerable, even if only Jodi knew that soft side while the world knew the hardcore businesswoman.
Jodi knew just how vulnerable, just how fragile, Eve had been. She’d heard it through every whimper and cry.
Eve had been the one. She hated knowing that, possibly more than anything. Knowing that it could never be. That it never could have been.
She ducked under an awning and glanced across the street, at the restaurant where she’d walked away from Eve, with all her pride intact, and her head held high.
It wasn’t Eve who’d prompted this change, who’d made her burn her little black book.
Those decisions had come from within Jodi’s heart. Eve might have played a tiny role, might have had a little to do with some choices, with Jodi’s wide-eyed decisions, but she wasn’t the deciding factor.
Fact was, she’d stayed too long, outlived her escort days. She’d bypassed her comfort zone to feel safe, had acquired savings far beyond her needs. There was nothing to run from anymore.
She wanted love above all else now, and witnessing Eve living for only the fantasy, dodging love’s clutches, made her see just how badly she wanted that dream, that missing link.
Thank you, Eve. Jodi pulled her shoulders forward and started walking again.
The rain bounced off her loafers and her feet were cold. She’d walk the last few blocks to the hotel, order room service, and sink into a hot bath, in the exact room Eve and her comrades had stayed in. The royal suite.
She wasn’t sure what had possessed her to stay there, with Amelia pleading for her to take the spare bedroom in her house. It was sweet, but right now, she didn’t want Amelia’s pity. She wanted to be alone, to think, to recharge and pick up the pieces.
And she’d done that. One tiny step at a time, starting with the splash of her cell phone into the river. She’d disconnected the sex line, had a glass of wine while her little black book burned in the kitchen sink, and now, she’d given away her home. As heavy as it seemed, she was ready to lift her chin and step into the future.
Plus, lying across the bed where Eve had lain, thinking about the phone snuggled against her ear while she’d masturbated to Lexi’s words, well, it was stupid, but it had given her new hope. That she’d find someone who didn’t live for the safety net of a pipe dream. Especially when Jodi could be all the fantasy she ever wanted.
A few more weeks getting her funds in order, selling off a portion of her storage unit, and she’d set out to somewhere. Hell, maybe she’d use the globe as a dartboard to choose her destination. It truly didn’t matter.
Amelia would be traveling very soon, setting out on her new career. It annoyed her that Amelia would be so close to Eve, witnessing her frantically setting things in order, always in charge with that sharp tongue. But she couldn’t be more proud of Amelia. She deserved all the joy and happiness her new position could bring her, even if that meant she’d be exactly where Jodi had wanted to be, so fucking close to Eve.
With a sigh, she walked a little faster. No one else would ever know the true Eve like Jodi did. She’d gotten to the deep part of her, the soft center. The Eve that no one else had ever and might never see.
She also didn’t regret not telling Eve the truth. Had she confessed earlier, when Eve was wide open for the truth, Eve would have been gone long before she got the chance to know her. Things always happened for a reason. Jodi knew what that reason was—to cut herself loose from a past she’d been clinging to out of habit, out of desperation to survive, even if survival was no l
onger part of the equation.
When her new cell phone chirped, she ducked beneath another awning and shook the rain from her hair. She withdrew the device from her pocket to study the display but didn’t recognize the number.
An eerie sensation shot down her spine. There was no sex line, no Lexi, or a reason to drop her voice into a deep Brit accent. No clients. No Eve.
She clicked the Ignore button. That life was gone. And no one other than Amelia had the number.
It immediately rang again. Same unfamiliar number.
She flipped it open and held it to her ear. “Hello?”
“What are you wearing, Jodi?”
Her heart jammed tight and she stepped back against the brick building for support. God, how could that petite little thing still have that kind of impact with her voice alone?
“Eve.”
“Trust me, you’re not wearing Eve.”
Jodi smiled as the raindrops swelled against the sidewalk, landing in large splats. “How’d you get this number?”
“Well, you see, I met this egotistical millionaire named Zara in London years ago. I explained how I was looking for a fantasy because love just didn’t work for me. She gave me your number, said you were the complete package.”
“Ah. I’ve always wondered.” Jodi made a mental note to send an anonymous bouquet of roses to Zara, if only to know the self-centered wench would drive herself insane trying to find her secret admirer.
“But something screwy is going on with that phone line.”
“Yeah. Something like that.” Jodi hooked her thumb through the loop of her jeans and kicked her foot against the building.
“So I had to finagle a few favors owed me, and voila, here I am.”
“I see.” Jodi watched people’s feet against the concrete, how the water splattered around their shoes, anything not to think about Eve, naked, arched, and coming.
Jodi knew she should hang up, to sever the connection. God knew she ought to. But she couldn’t.
She was over Eve. Her heart told her so. But hearing her voice clenched something tight in her gut.
“I still don’t know what you’re wearing.”
“A tie-dyed muumuu and orange high-top sneakers.”
Eve laughed and Jodi squeezed her eyes shut. She missed that laugh.
“I’m trying my best to imagine what Lexi would say right now. Something erotic, for sure.”
“There’s no Lexi.”
“Sure there is. Jodesy Alexis Connelly.”
Oh God. She’d read the article. Jodi was positive Eve would never set eyes on the interview with her heart, her fears, her demons, all poured out over the pages.
She’d laid it all out, from traveling the map as a military brat, her father’s death, her mother’s death, to being alone on foreign soil, without a single person to turn to. How the road had led her to being a phone sex operator, eventually becoming a high-priced escort. There was no glamour in being a whore, only shame, only seclusion, and not once in the interview did she condone her actions. It was the only way for her. The only refuge.
It was Amelia who’d told her to start writing a book, a written record so that the world could learn something from her adventures. It was Amelia who set up the interview with a publicist, followed shortly by a magazine reporter. It was Amelia who’d found the charity and a project manager to set Jodi’s wishes in motion.
It was always Amelia. Her heart, her friend, her only family. The only one who ever cared.
“Jodi.”
“What…Eve?” Jodi opened her eyes.
“I want to kiss you in the rain.”
Jodi chuckled. “You hate the rain.”
“I do. I can’t deny it. That doesn’t change the fact that I want to kiss you in it.”
“Eve, why are…what are you doing?” Why are you doing this to me? I’m broken, healing. Can’t you hear that? Trying to move on with life, trying to be normal. Dammit, please don’t do this.
Eve stepped out of the restaurant where she’d watched Jodi from the tinted window. Truth was, she didn’t know what the fuck she was doing.
What she did know was the only woman to touch her deeply, mentally and physically, was standing across the street. All she had to do was go get her.
Letting Jodi walk out those restaurant doors had been a mistake. She knew that now. Eve hadn’t been looking for love. Quite the opposite, actually. But there it’d been, wrapped deliciously in billboard attire, a tight body beneath, exactly how she’d painted the fantasy woman in her mind. Of course, there was that little issue about her being a paid escort, and all the reasons that pushed her there. Eve didn’t care. She didn’t give a shit where Jodi had come from, or how she’d gotten there. She was here now, a constant ache in Eve’s heart, a permanent fixture in her mind. Eve had no desire to fix the twist in her. She wanted to be twisted with her.
Like an idiot, she’d allowed Jodi to get free. She wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.
“I wish I knew. God, I wish I knew.” With a flick of the catch, Eve opened the umbrella, checked traffic, and darted across the street. Jodi was perched against the building farther along the block, her head pressed against the brick. She looked lonely, same as she had that night at the studio standing on the curb.
The rain had sealed Jodi’s shirt and jacket against her body, her hair wet yet still incredibly sexy. She looked so forlorn with her shoulders tilted forward. The sight made Eve swallow, made her heart throb uncontrollably. The pain of wanting, of longing, spread through her body like a wildfire. Eve knew how she felt, how disturbing that lack of control was. Right now, she wanted to lose it all for one kiss in this rain.
Jodi was the most gorgeous thing Eve had ever seen. So in tune with all Eve wanted, needed, desired, in and out of bed. She was perfect in every way possible.
Eve stepped behind a couple holding hands and thought of her mother, their conversation only weeks ago.
“Mom, why did you settle for a family instead of a career?”
“Love.”
“Love? Just like that, poof? All for love?”
“Just like that. One glance at your tiny little face, my innocent angel, and I fell in love.”
“Me? I’m the reason you became that carpooling, snot-wiping mom, with no life of her own?”
“No life? Who said I didn’t have a life?”
“Well, you didn’t. Really.”
“Sweetie, there is nothing more important than your family, your children, love. There’s nothing above it. Love is the only reality.”
Her mother had said she’d know when love snagged her. It would make her crazy stupid, make her heart feel things it never could before, and make her think of nothing else but that person, desperate to be near her, even if that connection was only her voice.
Her mother was right. She knew. God, how she knew. She felt it, deep in her being, rushing through her veins like a breakaway horse.
If she had to beg, she would. If she had to crawl around on this puddle-filled sidewalk on her hands and knees, she would. Right now she didn’t give a shit what it took to get one kiss from Jodi, in this wet, cold rain. She wasn’t above any of it.
But she was above giving up.
Eve slowed her steps when only fifty feet separated her from Jodi. “Now, about that kiss.”
Jodi’s hollow laugh echoed in Eve’s ear. “Sorry, sexy. You can’t afford me.” She pushed off the wall and started walking again. The rain instantly slicked her hair down.
Eve liked hearing her voice lift. Jodi had been ashamed long enough, no matter how high she held that head. “Hmm. Three thousand, was it?”
“That was then. And this is Eve Harris. The price just jumped to six grand.”
“My, my. Aren’t you a little conceited? Guess that means you’ll have to set me up a tab. Or we could work it out in, say, sweat equity?”
Jodi’s steps quickened and she moved through the people with ease.
As for Eve, she’d already
clashed umbrellas with two people, both who gave her an apology instead of the scowl every New Yorker would have thrown her way.
Another block of phone silence and Eve was out of breath trying to keep up.
“You’re killing me, Jodi.”
Jodi stopped so fast Eve had to skid to a halt and practically took out the bar holding the awning up with her umbrella.
“Eve, what the hell do you want from me? I think we know what you’re looking for. What I can’t give you.”
“I want a damn kiss.” Eve walked forward, closing the distance. “Can’t you give me that?”
Jodi lifted her arm and let it drop over her head. “No, Eve. I can’t. Please. Stop.”
Eve did and smiled. She liked this little cat-and-mouse game. She’d have to pick fights more often. God, the make-up sex was going to be incredible.
“Raise the edge of that grotesque muumuu, Jodi. Touch yourself.”
“Eve…”
“Can you feel me? My lips hot against your clit, my fingers buried deep?” Eve walked slower, still too far for Jodi to hear her. “Or you, behind me, watching me, watching you, your reflection fucking me.”
“Fuck. Stop!” Jodi stopped in front of the hotel where Eve had spent a week, minus her nights wrapped warmly in Jodi’s arms, her body weak, sore, and satisfied.
“Make me stop, Jodi.” Eve moved forward, twenty feet. Fifteen. Ten. “Kiss me. Shut me up.”
Jodi whipped around, searching the sidewalk, and then her gaze landed like a bomb on Eve.
Every part of Eve’s body awakened. Her heart slammed and her stomach clenched. God only knew what her insides were doing. Churning, slicking, tightening, all with only a stare from those glittering eyes.
Eve struggled forward, afraid her knees would give out like a pathetic damsel in distress, and stopped within five feet of Jodi.
Jodi looked from her face, down to her new boots, and then back up. “What are…why are you here?”