Sweetest Heartbreak (Sweetness Book 1)

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Sweetest Heartbreak (Sweetness Book 1) Page 5

by Heather Bentley


  As we left the gym, I didn’t even realize that I’d put my arm around her shoulders until after I did it. Better than that though, she didn’t flinch. She just kept talking, like we casually touched like this all the time. Like I could pull her close and kiss her, and she’d kiss me back. Because, with the sun streaming in and casting a warm glow to her skin, I was itching to feel her lips on mine.

  I’m standing on one side of the bar with her sitting on the other when the door opens, and in walks Eli.

  “Sorry I’m late. Did you get my text?”

  She ignores his question. “Eli! Heath and I played Jerk, and I won with a backward shot. It was awesome!”

  Eli takes a second to process her words before he looks at me, eyes narrowed and walks to her, taking one step too many into her space. He might as well pee on her leg. “Nice. What did you get for winning?” He knows I always bet on my games.

  I begin to stutter out an answer but stop, knowing no matter what I say, I’m screwed. Quitting for her, especially after I promised to keep my hands off her, won’t be good for our friendship. But when have I ever done the right thing?

  “Nothing actually,” she says. The words are effortless. Convincing.

  I’m impressed. Not only does she tell a bald-faced lie, but the loyalty she’s just shown me with those two words pinches at something deep in my chest.

  “Nothing?” He looks from Leah to me and then back again, doubtful.

  “Nope. Guess I should’ve bet big though, huh?” She turns to me. “Can placing a bet be retroactive?”

  I lock eyes with her in solidarity and copy her word. “Nope.”

  “Well, let’s get to it,” Eli interrupts our silent conversation.

  I’m not able to pull my eyes from her just yet, and fortunately, neither is she. Because, with her loose hair falling out around her face and the red from her cheeks fading to a soft pink, I’m using every ounce of energy I have to communicate to her just how beautiful she is right now.

  Leah

  “Mrs. Dawson, your chicken and dumplings are the best I’ve ever had. Hands down,” Eli says as he scrapes his plate clean.

  Heath echoes, “Definitely. Louise is a great cook, but she doesn’t make anything like this.”

  “Well, thank you, boys. That’s sweet of you. Even if you are kissing my ass.”

  “Mom! What has gotten into you?” I whisper harshly. A thought hits me, and I drop my voice lower. “Are you . . . are you going through . . . the change?”

  “Good Lord, Leah. No, it’s not menopause.” She rolls her eyes. “You kids are old enough. It’s time to turn off the filter. No more, Oh my goodness! Or, Jiminy Cricket,” she says as she swats her hand in the air.

  As I scrub a pot, Connor places a dirty plate on the counter and leans in with a feigned whisper, “The other day, I swear, I heard her drop an F-bomb in the laundry room.”

  I turn to her, my jaw falling open in horror.

  “What? I spilled detergent all over the floor. It made a horrible mess.”

  “Who is the person who taught me that’s not how a lady acts?” I scold, as if I were the actual parent here.

  “Oh, Lee. My sweet, sweet Lee.” She comes up behind me, resting her warm hands on my shoulders. “You’ll be where I am one day. Then, you’ll understand.” She kisses my cheek and leaves the room.

  “What the heck is that supposed to mean?” I look at the three guys left with me in the kitchen, hoping one of them has an answer.

  “It means, you can’t live life with a stick up your ass,” Connor says as he brings me more dishes from the table.

  “Jerk.” I flick soap bubbles at him, hitting him in the nose, which emits a laugh from the room.

  Eli, always the peacemaker, attempts to cover for my brother from his chair at the table. “I think what your brother is trying to say is, don’t take life so seriously. Have some fun.”

  I turn to him, irritated, when I catch him about to lick a small spot of gravy off his plate. I cross my arms at my chest and silently dare him to do it.

  His shoulders drop in defeat as he hands it to me. “It’s just, as long as I’ve known you, Lee, you’ve followed every rule, planned out every moment.”

  “What? I’ve broken rules before. Don’t you remember when I signed you in for our European Studies class even though I knew you weren’t coming? That’s breaking a rule.”

  “You only did that because I was sick in bed with a fever, and if I had one more absence, I’d drop a letter grade. You did it because you’re a good friend. Not because you’re a rebel.”

  I dry my hands on the kitchen towel with a little too much force, unwilling to admit he’s right. “Well then, I’m definitely not a planner.”

  A rough scoff escapes Connor’s throat.

  “What?” I ask haughtily. “For your information, I have no idea what I’m doing tomorrow. A true planner would at least know what they were doing the next day.”

  “Just because you have one day with no plans doesn’t make it true. Besides, you’re more of a big-picture planner.” Connor looks to Eli. “Has she ever told you about her dream proposal?”

  Eli looks from me to Connor. “Like, a wedding proposal?”

  “Yep. She’s got it all planned out.”

  I swat him with the kitchen towel. “I do not, Connor. Just stop!”

  He laughs and pulls the towel away before I can hit him again. “She has this whole cliché dream about candles in the sand or some shit.”

  I smack him once in the arm, hard, because he’s embarrassing the hell out of me. But he just laughs as he moves to the other side of the table.

  “Give me a break, Connor. That’s not true anymore. Besides, I was, like, ten when I said that.”

  “No way. Try more, like, eighteen.”

  Now, all three guys are laughing at me, and my face is burning red in embarrassment.

  “But the best part is the costumes!” Now, he’s laughing full force, having to catch his breath before attempting to continue.

  I know where he’s going with this, and it needs to stop. Now.

  “Connor Michael Dawson, this is not funny. Shut up right now!”

  “Oh no, man. Tell us. This, I’ve got to hear,” Heath encourages, enjoying my panic.

  Really? After I covered for him and our bet?

  I lunge at Connor, but he’s faster than me, making it to the other side of the table and out of reach.

  “She made a list of all of her favorite couples costumes. Like, whoever the poor sucker is that she marries will be forced to wear coordinating costumes every Halloween for the rest of his life.”

  “Seriously?” Eli and Heath ask in unison.

  I grip my hips and raise my chin. “What’s so wrong with couples costumes? It’s my favorite holiday. Is it really such a big deal that the man I marry will need to like Halloween as much as I do?”

  Heath is the first to speak. “So, like, he’s Superman and you’re Wonder Woman?”

  Connor jumps in. “Or he’s Fred and she’s Wilma!”

  Now, it’s Eli’s turn. “Or he’s bacon and she’s eggs!”

  Connor injects, “Cinderella and Prince Charming!”

  They all think this is hilarious, throwing out costume ideas, as I turn my back on them. I scrub at a dish before shoving it in the dishwasher, all the while fighting to tamp down my rising humiliation. With every plate and fork I jam into the machine, I vow to never share anything personal with Connor ever again for as long as I live.

  “Hey, Leah,” Heath speaks from behind me, my shoulders hunched over the sink as I grab another dish and begin to scrub. “You know the chances of that happening are slim to none, right? No normal guy likes to dress up.”

  The three of them don’t bother to hide their laughter as my eyes burn.

  I drop the dish in the sink and lift my eyes to Heath’s, not bothering to hide the hurt that shows in every line of my face. “The right guy will.”

  Their laughter fades
as I leave the room.

  Heath

  “Shit. I think we hurt her feelings. I’ll go talk to her,” Connor says as he moves toward the doorway Leah just exited.

  He stops when his mom enters the room. She’s not happy.

  “Anyone care to tell me why my daughter is out back while you three are here, in the kitchen?” She stands tall in the doorframe, arms crossed over her chest.

  None of us are brave enough to answer.

  “I’ll tell you why. Because her brother, the person she adores more than anyone else in this world, teased her about things she’d shared with him in private.” She looks pointedly at Connor.

  He opens his mouth, about to speak in his defense, when Mrs. Dawson raises a hand and effectively silences him.

  “You boys don’t think I could hear every word from down the hall? Shame on all of you. Especially you.” She points to Connor. “I taught you better. And, for the record, she was twelve when she shared that with you, so give her some slack.”

  “Sorry, Mom.”

  “Sorry, Mrs. Dawson,” I reply sheepishly. God, I feel like an ass. I know I’m not the only one at fault, but knowing I’m even partly to blame weighs heavy on my mind.

  Eli steps forward. “Yeah, sorry, Mrs. Dawson. Should I go talk to her?”

  A hot wave of jealousy hits me at his words. The thought of him being the one to console her pisses me off.

  “No. You, Eli, can finish the dishes. Heath, you take out the garbage, and, Connor, you wipe down the table and sweep the floor.”

  A collective, “Yes, ma’am,” comes from the three of us.

  As we get to work on our newly assigned chores, she turns to leave the room but not before sharing a few parting words. “A man who makes a woman feel anything less than valuable is no man at all. Remember that.”

  We nod in silent understanding.

  As the other two continue working, I step out the side door with the garbage in hand. The deck is dimly lit, but I don’t miss Leah sitting in one of the teak chairs. It’s a typical warm night, but a light breeze whistles through the trees. I set down the bag and walk over.

  “Hey,” she says with a weak smile as she stands.

  The wind pushes a lock of hair in her face, and I tuck the piece behind her ear. “I’m sorry. I was an ass.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m more irritated with my brother. Besides, I get it. Couples costumes and all. Stupid.” She shrugs her shoulders. “We tease each other all the time. I think I’m just on edge because Connor will be moving out soon.”

  “He’s moving? He didn’t say anything at dinner.”

  “Well, he doesn’t want to jinx it, but it’s basically a done deal. He’s just waiting to hear back from Burger.”

  “Burger?” I laugh.

  “Yeah, Kyle Heisenburger, but we’ve called him Burger ever since we were kids. He’s a recruiter and is helping Connor with his job search. Connor had his third interview with an engineering firm in Houston and now he’s just waiting for their offer.” She looks off to the side. “It’ll just be weird. Him living somewhere else. His room empty.”

  “Or maybe it’ll be like when you were both away at college?”

  She shrugs again, keeping her head turned away. “We went to the same college.” Her shoulders rise and fall with a heavy breath.

  She still won’t look at me, and I can’t stand it. How my words affect other people is something I’ve never considered before. But this, seeing her hurt because of me, stirs up feelings I’m not used to.

  With a finger to her chin, I gently turn her eyes to mine.

  “I really am sorry, Leah.”

  I lower my face to hers until we’re just a breath apart. Her mouth opens slightly as her eyes soften and the crinkle of her nose disappears. That urge to feel her lips against mine returns with an urgency I want to give in to. I’ve never given much thought to kissing. It’s never been anything more than a means to an end. But, with Leah, I want to know what it’s like to kiss her. More than that, I need to know.

  As she stares up at me, I swear, she can read my thoughts. I close the narrow gap between us and brush my lips against hers before hesitantly pulling back. I need to be sure she wants this as much as I do. When her palm rests flat on my chest, I have my answer.

  My fingers leave her chin and travel to the warm skin of her neck, gliding around to the back. Her skin prickles with goose bumps under my hand as I draw her forward until her lips are firmly, and finally, pressed against my own. We stay just like that, absorbing the feel of our connection. When she pulls my shirt into her fist with one hand and brings the other to my hip, I cup her face in my hands and swipe my tongue along the seam of her lips, thankful when her mouth drops open and she gives me what I’ve been thinking about since the first day she walked onto my court.

  When a small moan escapes her throat and her hands glide around to my back, I know she feels the same way. I don’t hesitate to kiss her the way she deserves to be kissed. Steady but strong. Soft but deep. Her tongue swirls with mine as our lips heat, and her fingers burrow into my skin.

  She moves with me, like we’ve done this a hundred times before. I marvel at the thought that, if our first kiss is this amazing, I can’t wait to discover all the ways it can get better. I know one thing for sure though. This is the kiss that all others will forever be compared to.

  We break apart, and I run my nose alongside hers and kiss the apple of her cheek, her lashes brushing against my own as her eyes flutter open and I pull away. Her lips are red from the friction as our rapid breaths begin to calm, and her mouth spreads into a shy smile.

  “If that’s how you apologize, you definitely need to screw up more often.”

  I steal a kiss before answering. “I’ll do my best, Princess.”

  If I only knew how true those words would someday be.

  Leah

  “Can you come here a minute, so I can show you where I’m putting everything?” I call to Heath as he walks past with a box.

  It’s been six days since he kissed me on the back porch. Six days of talking on the phone and waking up to his texts.

  I discovered he hates emojis, so I always make sure to throw a few random ones in just to drive him crazy. Last night, before I fell asleep, I texted him a puppy, a paper clip, and the French flag among others. This morning, I woke to his text.

  If that’s code for “I want to see you naked,” then my answer is YES.

  I smiled stupidly to myself and so badly wanted to play along and tell him yes back, but I wasn’t brave enough. So, I just sent him a string of surprised faces.

  It’s been a long time since anyone has seen me naked, ever since I made that mistake with Eli. I hate to call sex with a great guy like him a mistake, but as it was happening, I knew it wasn’t right. I confused feeling safe and open with him for having true feelings for him. So, we did it, and I almost immediately regretted it. It wasn’t what we were meant to be. It felt like being with my best friend and nothing more. It was good. It was fine. I wouldn’t wish it away because I do love Eli. I just don’t love Eli. There’s no spark like that between us. No heat or intensity. Thankfully, Eli said he agreed and we eventually worked past the awkwardness.

  Now, if I could just get past the kiss I shared with Heath. The kiss that curled my toes and stole my breath.

  Heath comes from around the corner as I snap out of my thoughts and stumble to open the first cabinet. He finally closed on the condo and he, Eli, and I have been working all day to get him unpacked.

  With one hand, I direct his attention to what’s inside and, more importantly, away from my flushed face. “So, here are your dinner plates, salad plates, and cereal bowls. Above are a few serving bowls and over here”—I go to the next cabinet—“are your glasses and coffee mugs.” I’m pointing to the inside of the cabinet, but he’s yet to look anywhere but at me. “Heath, are you paying attention?”

  He moves close, his bare feet on either side of my own, as his mouth
drops dangerously low. “I’m paying very close attention.”

  “Oh.” That one syllable is all I can manage. I’m too focused on the curve of his lips to say more. The same lips that are currently smiling down at me. I will him to move in and kiss me. I need him to kiss me.

  Kiss me.

  His warm chest leans into mine, and just as his hands wrap around my hips and my eyes fall closed, Eli shouts as he enters the room. “Where do you want this box marked Crap to go?”

  Heath drops his hands the same time I jump back, bumping into the countertop behind me. But it’s no use, and we both know it when we turn to see Eli standing ramrod straight, his eyes as wide as his mouth. Although we’re not touching, two people couldn’t be physically closer than we are right now. There’s no denying that something other than unpacking was about to take place.

  His body locks, and his face falls. “Never mind. I’ll figure it out,” Eli growls as he turns and storms from the room.

  “Shit.” I drop my head to Heath’s shoulder and take a deep breath. God, he smells good. “I’d better go talk to him,” I mumble as I force myself away.

  Eli’s easy enough to find in the first door on the right—the spare bedroom and Heath’s new office. I stand in the doorway, watching him move boxes from one side of the room to the other, not really accomplishing anything.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey,” he answers, his body bent over a box.

  I shift my weight from one foot to the other. “So . . . about what you saw in the kitchen . . . ”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” he mumbles.

  “Eli . . . ”

  “Damn it, Leah.” He throws a book down into the box at his feet, the sharp noise causing my body to instinctively jump a step back. When he turns to me, his eyes are wild and bloodshot. “Haven’t you figured out by now that Heath gets everything he wants? Money, cars, this condo . . . you.” His arm juts out in my direction before he turns away again. “I knew this would happen. I knew he would see how much you meant to me and go after you. Just to prove that he could do it.” His body swings back to mine. “Because that’s what he’s doing; you understand that, right?”

 

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