The server interrupts us to drop off a plate of giant chocolate chip pancakes.
They smell amazing.
And there’s this beautiful cup of maple syrup.
I pick up a fork, take a slice, dip it in maple.
It dissolves on my tongue. Mmm. Sugar. Chocolate. Flour. I take another bite, chew, swallow.
Iris smiles, victorious.
“You do have a magic pussy,” I say. “You should have seen the way Walker plowed through women before you.”
“That’s my boyfriend.”
“You know he’s a slut.”
“Still. I don’t want to hear about it.”
“Isn’t there something about taming him?”
“Maybe. Mostly just having him.” Her gaze softens as her expression gets dreamy. She sighs that I’m madly, passionately in love sigh. “Sorry. I’m sure that’s obnoxious”
“It’s sweet.”
“I love him so much. It’s crazy.”
“I love him so much. It’s crazy.” I take another bite. Let the sugar chase away my thoughts.
I hate admitting she’s right, but I feel better with food in my stomach.
Like maybe there’s some way to fix this.
“Do you love him enough to wait for him?” she asks.
The words wash over me. They make so much sense, but they feel so far away. “Why do you say it in that tone?”
She finishes her coffee. “That tone is your mind knowing I’m right.”
Maybe. I pry a chocolate chip from a pancake, let it melt on my tongue. “Can you shrink me and fix it?”
“No. You’re my friend. And I’m not gonna be that kind of shrink. But it probably does have something to do with your mom being a drunk.”
“Alcoholic.”
“Choosing booze over you.”
“Yeah.”
“And you were scared Ryan was going to choose her over you.”
“Maybe.” Definitely. Even I know I’m walking around with a mountain of baggage over my mom. Even I know I left because I was afraid of getting rejected again.
But it feels more obvious on her tongue.
I run away when I get scared.
When I get hurt.
It was the right call with guys who didn’t treat me well. With shitty jobs. With my mom.
But with Ryan—
I need to be strong enough to stand and feel this.
To listen to him.
To give him time to love me.
I think.
My brain is running on too little sleep for this to make sense.
I finish a pancake and a half and the rest of my coffee. “Can you take me home? I need to sleep.”
“Sure.” She hails the server for the check. “Are you’re going to be okay?”
“I’m not sure, but I think so.”
Chapter 50
Ryan
Wheels screech as the plane touches down at LAX.
The older woman sitting next to me stretches her arms over her head as she yawns. Her hand taps my shoulder. She smiles, apologetic. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“Your first red eye?”
“I guess it is.”
“You get used to them.”
I nod. Turn my cell off airplane mode. The time refreshes, but my texts and emails stay silent.
“Why were you in Hawaii?”
“A wedding.”
“How sweet?”
“No.” I slide my cell into my pocket. Better not to look at messages. I already got a yes from Brendon. I can’t let anything talk me out of this. “It’s today.”
“Oh.”
“I had to… my girlfriend needs me.”
She rests her hand on her heart. Makes that oh, how sweet noise. “Will you two be next?”
“I don’t know. Probably not. We’re new.”
“But you love her?”
I stare back at this woman. She’s a stranger, but she seems kind. Loving. She’s wearing a wedding ring. She must have some fucking insight. “How can you know for sure?”
“You feel it.”
“How did you know?”
“I thought about my future, about what I looked forward to. I asked myself if I wanted to wake up next to him every day. I did.”
“That’s it?”
“What’s more loving than staying in someone’s life?”
“How long have you been married?”
“Thirty years.”
“Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
The plane stops at the gate. The fasten seatbelts sign turns off. The intercom whirs with something about how we can now stand.
The woman smiles. “I hope things work out with her.”
“Me too.”
Chapter 51
Leighton
It’s afternoon when I wake. Even with the breeze blowing between my windows, my apartment is hot.
But the heat isn’t irritating. The familiarity of it is comforting. This place is home. Its quirks and flaws are home too.
A glass of ice water cools me down. As does shedding my pajamas.
It’s way too hot for a run, but I need to clear my mind too badly to care.
I change into my workout gear, lace up my sneakers, fill my reusable water with a mix of ice and water.
Then I slide my keys into the hidden pocket in my shorts, step outside, and take off.
The sun beats down on my chest and shoulders, but it feels good. Warming, not oppressive.
A breeze blows over my arms.
The air cools as I pass Eleventh.
But the view of the ocean crashing into the sand doesn’t offer the clarity it usually does. It sends my thoughts back to Maui. To climbing into Ryan’s lap and kissing him and knowing I loved him more than anything.
Maybe even enough to wait for him.
I try to push my thoughts away as I hit Ocean, turn, run back toward my apartment.
Slowly, the dust in my brain settles.
Things come into focus.
But there’s no time to make sense of them.
Ryan is sitting on my stoop. Staring at me like I’m an angel sent from heaven.
Like I’m the only thing he’s ever wanted.
Chapter 52
Leighton
My pulse pounds in my ear.
My heartbeat is the only thing I can hear. It’s loud, fast, steady.
He’s here.
He’s not at the wedding.
He’s not in Hawaii.
He’s here.
“Hey.” He rises to his feet.
“Hey.” The words stumble on my tongue. My stomach flutters. My limbs get light.
Ryan is here.
He’s really here.
He offers his hand. “You want to talk inside?”
“It’s hotter inside.”
“That’s okay.”
I pop the cap of my reusable bottle. Suck down my last drop of water. It’s still cold, but it does nothing to cool me down.
I’m buzzing from his proximity.
My body shares none of my caution. It screams for Ryan. For his lips, his touch, his cock.
For every single thing he can give me.
No, that’s my head.
Or maybe my heart.
All of me wants all of him.
My fingertips skim his palm. “Okay. Inside.” If this is good, and we’re inside, then my body can get what it wants. I can get what I want.
If it’s bad, and we’re inside, then I can fall apart without prying eyes.
But if it’s bad…
It doesn’t matter where I am.
I punch the code into the gate.
The door buzzes. I turn the knob, hold it open for Ryan.
He nods as politely as he always does.
I follow him up the steps, down the hall, to my apartment door.
The key is lodged into that tiny pocket. I fish it out, slide it into my lock, turn it. This is familiar. Like the
night I explained everything.
Like a million nights I let Ryan in.
Then let Ryan in.
I want that so badly.
I want him so badly.
Please be here to kiss and make up.
Please say you love me too.
Because I really don’t know what I’ll do if you don’t.
I push the door open and step inside. “Come in.”
He does. His sandals squeak against the tile floor. He slides them off, leaves them in a neat row by the door.
I step out of my sneakers and socks. Leave them in a messy pile.
He presses the door shut. Clicks the lock. Turns to face me. “Your flight okay?”
I nod.
“Iris picked you up?”
“Yeah. Thanks… I think.”
“You eat something?”
“Were you behind the chocolate chip pancakes?”
He shakes his head. “That was all her.”
“Oh. She’s a good friend.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m lucky.”
His blue eyes bore into mine.
I stare back at him. Words crawl into my throat and dissolve on my tongue. None are quite right.
But I can’t keep up this staring contest forever.
I have to say something.
I want to say something.
“I, uh, I kind of freaked out.” My heels plant on the hardwood as I take a step backward. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
“I didn’t need to give you an ultimatum. I could have waited. But I was scared. And hurt. And I didn’t know what else to do but run.”
He nods. “I’m glad you did.”
“What?” My brow furrows. He’s glad. I… He… That doesn’t make any sense.
He closes the distance between us in three steps.
His hand skims my hip. His palm goes flat on my lower back. He pulls my body into his.
I look up at him.
I stare into those beautiful baby blues. “What is this?”
“Give me a minute to put this together.”
“Okay.” My fingers curl into his soft cotton shirt. I press the fabric into his shoulders. They’re hard. Warm. Familiar.
But are they mine?
I need them to be mine.
He brushes a stray hair behind my ear. “I felt it.”
“Felt what?”
“All night, it got worse, this gaping hole in my gut. The only thing that filled it was thinking about you.”
I stare back at him.
“I think I needed that. I needed to realize I might lose you. That I would lose you if I didn’t figure it out.”
“No, I, we… I was too harsh. Too impatient.”
“It killed me watching you walk away.”
“It killed me too.”
“But I needed it.” His voice is steady. Sure. “I thought about my future. And I see you, Leigh. I see myself waking up next to you. Arguing about whether we should have medium roast or French roast. I see you teasing me about wearing nothing but black. And I see you standing in our bathroom, perfecting your makeup, rolling your eyes when I insist you look great without it. I see us getting our own place. Getting married. Having a family.”
“Ryan…”
“I love you, Leighton.”
My heart thuds against my chest.
He rests his palm on my cheek. Rubs my temple with his thumb. “I love you so fucking much, it hurts.”
“I love you too.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t see it. The word felt like a weapon or a wound. And you were the opposite of that, baby. You are. You’re an angel. You’re my salvation. You’re everything.”
“I…”
He turns to his side and rolls his jeans down his hip.
It’s there, in big, bold letters.
Leighton
With wings on each side.
It’s still wrapped in plastic.
His skin is still raised, red, raw.
“When?” I stare at the ink.
“When I got in. Then I came here.”
“Ryan…”
“You like it.”
“I love it.” I stare into his eyes. “I… I love you.”
“I love you too.”
He brings his lips to mine. His kiss is soft, sweet. It’s every ounce of love and affection in the world.
It’s mine.
He pulls back with a sigh. “I’m not gonna lie. I’m never gonna be normal. I’m done with Penny, but those scars aren’t going anywhere. I’m gonna worry I’m not enough for you. I’m gonna wonder if you’re looking elsewhere. I’m gonna turn over bad moods and quiet days and every time you get home late. But I’m gonna tell you what I’m thinking. I’m gonna ask you for the reassurance I need.”
“Okay.”
“I’m gonna need it all the fucking time.”
“That’s okay. I will too. I’ll worry I’m second choice. And I’ll want to run when you hurt me. Or when I get scared. And I might. But I’ll come back. I promise.”
I slide my hands into his hair and I kiss him hard. “Say it again, please.”
“I love you, Leighton.”
“I love you, Ryan.”
And I kiss him like I’m never going to let go.
Because I won’t.
Chapter 53
Epilogue
Ryan
Leighton slides off her stool. A yawn escapes her berry lips as she stretches her arms over her head.
Her blue-green eyes meet mine.
They light up as her lips curl into a smile.
That’s all it takes for me too. I see her, and I’m happy.
I feel like a different person.
Not that she’d agree.
According to my girlfriend, I’m still plenty moody and difficult. I’m sure she’s right. I still work too much, run miles at a time, spar until I drop. I still obsess over cooking her dinners, making her smile, making her come—
Fuck, I’m getting distracted.
Her snug black sweater does nothing to help matters. Its low neckline shows off the lace of her black bra.
She catches me staring and tugs the sweater lower.
My tongue slides over my lips.
My thoughts get dirty. I want to strip her out of those clothes, place her on the counter, and spread her legs.
She looks hot as hell.
And it’s the perfect distraction from the thought racing around my head.
What if she says no?
She smooths her black mini-skirt as she presses her laptop closed.
I turn back to my client. As soon as I check him out, I’m done with work. And that means I’m taking her there. And I’m asking.
My voice is quiet. Nervous. “You need a minute?”
He shakes his head no way. Stands. Continues admiring his work—a Storm Trooper ready to shoot—in the mirror.
It looks good, though I can’t say I appreciate the subject matter. “Still in love?”
His eyes go wide. His smile goes wider. “It’s so fucking cool.” He stays hazy as he follows me to the counter.
Leighton taps her nails—hot pink today—against the black counter. She winks at me. I know that look. It’s can I check him out, please, for old time’s sake?
Not that it’s really old time. She stayed through September, as promised. Then she struck out on her own. For two months now, she’s been busy. She’s been working nonstop. She’s been fucking amazing.
But it’s been torture, not seeing her every day.
We spend most nights together, at my place or hers. I still cook her dinner as often as I can. And drop packed lunches in her fridge.
But I only see her at the Inked Hearts counter once a week.
She spends her Fridays working here.
Which means I spend my Fridays distracted by whatever tight outfit she’s wearing.
Thinking about fucking her senseless.
And holding her all night.
<
br /> And never letting go.
Her tits nearly spill out of her top as she leans over the counter. “That looks amazing.”
My client’s laugh is so high-pitched it’s nearly a giggle.
I’ve seen this a million times—a guy simultaneously flattered and intimidated by her.
It used to make my fingers curl into fists.
But now that she’s mine, that I know she’s doing it for a reaction…
It’s thrilling.
It’s a game we play.
Foreplay by flirting with other people.
“You must love Star Wars.” She bats her eyelashes. Presses her lips into a soft smile. “They’re amazing movies, aren’t they?”
“Uh-huh.” He nods as he pulls out his credit card and hands it to her.
She brushes her fingers against his palm as she takes it. “Who’s your favorite character?”
“Uh…” He turns to show off the tattoo of Luke Skywalker on his right arm. “How about you?”
“Hard to say.” She runs his credit card. Watches the machine spit out a receipt, hands it over. “Can I confess something to you?”
He leans in. Nods with enthusiasm.
She stages whispers. “My heart is devoted to Austin Powers.”
“No way,” he whispers. “Really?”
We share a look. It’s our secret. The whole world is our secret.
It’s ours.
She turns to my client. “I love a guy who makes me laugh.”
He scribbles a tip, signs, hands over the receipt.
I shake his hand and walk him to the door.
He nearly skips down the street.
I can’t blame him.
She has the same effect on me.
“Funny guys, huh?” Walker crosses the room to the counter. He motions to Dean, who’s currently in his suite, showing Chloe his water color technique. He’s concentrating. Serious. It’s weird. “You might have a chance.”
My brother snaps back to his usual trouble making bullshit. “I think we all know how Leigh feels about me.” He winks.
Chloe rolls her eyes. She rises to her feet. Her combat boots pad the hardwood as she moves to the backroom.
“You’re a charmer.” Walker laughs. “You trying to get her to quit.”
“She quits, I quit.” I hired Chloe as an assistant/apprentice a while ago. She should be a perfect fit here—she’s talented, serious, quiet—but Dean keeps giving her shit. The two of them hate each other.
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