Want You More

by Nicole Helm

  Do you really have everything you want?

  She shook her head and pushed out of the bathroom. Only to find Will standing in the hallway.

  She’d been angry at him this morning. And last night. She’d been so angry with him for so long, but something about the kiss had twisted that anger into something else. Not just hurt or fury, but fear.

  A fear she didn’t know how to handle. She couldn’t march through it like she did with most of the fears in her life. She’d decided Mile High was her landing point, so she couldn’t run away.

  Or could you?

  “Bathroom’s all yours,” she managed, trying to skirt around him and past him. His hand curled around her arm—not hard and jerky like last night. This was more of a careful touch. He was, or seemed to be, very purposefully giving her the space to step away from him, if that’s what she wanted.

  It was definitely what she wanted to do, but for some reason, she didn’t.

  “I wanted to apologize about last night,” he said, his voice low and sincere.

  The memory of that kiss, with his hand on her, it was enough to have her pulling away from his light grasp. “Consider it forgotten.”

  “That’s not what I said I wanted. I said I wanted to apologize.”

  There was something different about him. Something too soft and too open and she wanted to shrink away from it.

  “I was angry and jealous. And I didn’t quite know what to do about feeling jealous.”

  “Jealous of what?” she asked, none of it making sense. Not the apology. Not him touching her. Not the way he was acting. God, couldn’t he be predictable for damn once?

  He stared at her as if that would hold some answer. But she didn’t understand what on earth he’d been jealous . . .

  He didn’t mean . . . But he nodded, as though he could read her thoughts. As though he could read them and answer every question in her head.

  “I didn’t particularly care for watching you smile at James.”

  Those twin feelings popped up. Something too close to pleasure, and the usual anger. She held on to anger because that was her. Pleasure was how she got knocked to the ground again. Anger was how she survived.

  She was so tired of surviving. “You don’t have any right to be jealous,” she managed to say, sounding very nearly dispassionate.

  “No, I don’t. I know that. But that doesn’t change the emotion.”

  He hadn’t taken his gaze off her in the entire time they’d spoken. He was looking at her so intently, and she didn’t know what he was trying to say or do, and she didn’t want to figure it out. She just wanted things to be easy. She wanted to be left alone.

  She wanted his hand on her arm. She wanted his mouth on hers again, rough and needy.

  She walked past him. “Fine. I accept your apology. Whatever. Can we get back?”

  “I like having you here.”

  She stilled since those simple words were like an arrow to the heart. She wanted to say something mean and awful in return, but her voice didn’t work.

  “I guess I wanted you to know that. That I like having you here, working here, like you were always supposed to. That I was jealous. It’s something to think about.”

  “I won’t be thinking about it. Ever,” she returned foolishly. She was not going to consider what it meant that he was jealous. What it meant that he liked having her here. No, those were off-limits thoughts, that was for sure.

  “I will be.” He said it softly like a promise, like he didn’t understand it was nothing more than a threat. There was no way to explain it to him though, so she simply walked away.

  Back to the group who had welcomed her, and away from the man she didn’t know what to do with.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Two days later, Will walked into the office he shared with Brandon, firmly sure of his plan.

  Okay, mostly.

  Something had to change, obviously, and maybe it was time for the change to come from him.

  “I need you to change the schedule.”

  Brandon raised an eyebrow as he looked up from the computer where he was checking the invoices. “Okay. I’m not sure why the dramatic entrance, but what do you need changed?”

  “I need you to give me your climbing excursion today.”

  Brandon’s mouth firmed. “That’s Tori’s climbing excursion. I’m just observing her one last time before she gets the all-clear to take people out on her own.”

  “Let me be the one to observe,” Will replied. He knew what he was doing. Kind of. He wouldn’t be deterred.

  Brandon pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily. “I don’t want to be in the middle of whatever this is.”

  “It isn’t anything. Mostly.”

  “‘Mostly’ is exactly what scares me,” Brandon returned, leaning back in his chair.

  “Just trust me. Let me take it.”

  “I don’t think Tori will care for that change,” Brandon said, clearly choosing his words carefully.

  But Will was a little over being careful. Something was bubbling inside of him. A kind of purpose, maybe. He wanted to act and move forward. “Maybe she’ll be pissed at first, but she’ll get over it.”

  “Why, because you’re so charming when it comes to her?”

  Will ignored his brother’s sarcasm. “I need you to let me do this. I need you to give me some time with her.”

  “Why? Will, things are going well right now. The last thing I want is—”

  “That’s the point. Making things all right. I’m trying to fix things, and I can’t fix things if she won’t let me within fifty yards of her without scurrying off.”

  “Typically, when women scurry away from you, it’s a sign they don’t actually want anything to do with you.”

  “I’d point out Lilly did plenty of scurrying away from you, but this isn’t like that. Exactly.”

  “Exactly?”

  Will shook his head. He was getting off topic and letting Brandon distract him from the point. “This really isn’t a joke. I’m being dead serious. Give me the excursion. I will handle Tori’s fallout.”

  “That’s not exactly your area of expertise.”

  Ouch. True, but ouch.

  But Brandon hadn’t flat-out said no yet. In fact, he was currently studying Will with that obnoxious older brother glare. Will stood there and took it. He let Brandon glare away—scrutinize, analyze, and figure things out.

  As long as it got him a yes.

  “I’ll do it, on one condition,” Brandon said at last.

  “What’s the condition?” Will asked eagerly.

  Brandon hesitated, his condition no doubt something Will wasn’t going to like.

  “Why don’t you tell me, in your own words, what the hell is going on there.”

  Yeah, Will definitely didn’t like that condition. “Look, you don’t need to worry—”

  “The condition for me allowing you to take the excursion is that you’re honest with me and tell me what the hell is going on with you two.”

  “Well, currently, nothing is going on between us.” Mostly.

  Brandon’s frown deepened. “But you’d like there to be?”

  Will took a deep breath. He didn’t particularly want to air his feelings when they were still confusing, so he went with the simplest answer, though it was a little more emotional than he wanted it to be. “I want my friend back.”

  “And that’s all, right? You’re trying to get things back to the way they used to be. You and Tori as friends. This isn’t more than that, right?”

  Will hesitated. He shouldn’t have, but he couldn’t help it. Mostly he wanted his friend back, but there was the kiss to consider.

  That kiss had lingered. It stuck there—in his brain, like a loop he couldn’t step off. He’d been angry and stupid, and yet he could remember every detail. Every place his fingers had touched on her arm, the depth and breadth of her mouth, the little sigh she’d made as she’d melted into him.

  After th
at, well, he had a hard time remembering any other kiss before it. He wasn’t a poetic guy, but it was true. So the fact he couldn’t, the fact it lingered there, well, it had to mean . . . something. Maybe.

  “Will. Talk to me.”

  “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

  “I want you to say anything,” Brandon returned, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. He linked his hands together, hazel eyes filled with concern.

  Will wished he could wipe the concern away. He didn’t want it. He didn’t need it. He was fine. Once he figured out things with Tori, he’d be fine.

  Probably.

  “I want you to talk to me,” Brandon said, his voice so damn careful. “I want to understand this thing. Every time I turn around, the vibe between you two is completely different and—”

  “First of all, you just said ‘vibe’ so I know you’ve been listening to Lilly too much. Second, did it ever occur to you that the ‘vibe’ doesn’t matter? That all that matters is the fact Tori and I aren’t at each other’s throats, and you can trust me to handle things when you’re not here.”

  “I do. I do trust you to handle things when I’m not here. But if you start . . . If you’re poking at Tori to be friends again, to go back to how you used to be . . . Can you promise it won’t all blow up again?”

  Brandon always knew how to focus on the one little part of a problem Will wanted to avoid or sidestep or deal with later. He knew how to use that careful tone, he knew how to use his care like a weapon.

  Which wasn’t fair, probably, but it’s what it felt like. A dismantling. He’d gotten a handle on what he wanted to do, and Bran was poking holes in it. Leave it to him.

  “Of course I can’t promise you that,” Will snapped, irritation and something close to hurt coursing through him.

  “Then maybe now is not the time to rehash something that’s gone,” Brandon said gently.

  So fucking gently.

  But it was funny that’s how Brandon saw it. Something that’s gone. As much as things popped into his head from back then, as much as Tori tried to bring then up, this thing right now wasn’t actually about then.

  It was about the woman who walked into his life now. He’d never kissed young Tori. He didn’t know what that was like. But he knew what it was like to kiss this Tori. He knew what it was like to argue with this Tori and to see the way her eyes changed and . . .

  “Things are precarious right now,” Brandon continued. “Lilly’s off bed rest, but things are still . . . I need her not stressed. I need Mile High staff to stay whole. I need us to be getting along. The campfire night was great. We had a great time. I want to hold on to that good stuff for a while without poking at things. Tell me you understand that.”

  “Of course I understand.” The last few months had been rocky. Good, mostly, but rocky nonetheless, and he didn’t want to add to it. He didn’t want to add to Brandon’s burden, whether it was fair he took all that burden on his shoulders or not.

  “Let me be the one to observe Tori on her excursion this afternoon. Okay?”

  Will wanted to argue. For a lot of reasons, he wanted to argue, but he didn’t. He gave Brandon a nod and backed out of the office.

  Maybe Brandon’s refusal was right. Whatever friendship reclaiming Will was trying to accomplish shouldn’t be fought for on company time.

  He’d have to take his battle elsewhere.

  * * *

  Tori parked her car in the little carport next to her house. Her muscles ached like a bitch, but it was a good ache. The kind that told her she’d put in a hard day’s work. Work she loved.

  No matter what else was going on in her life, she could smile at the fact she had good work. A lot of people weren’t so lucky.

  Feeling happy and satisfied, Tori popped out of the car and let Sarge out before she shut the door.

  “You like it here too, don’t you, boy,” she murmured, patting his soft head. He panted happily and trotted up to the front door.

  So far, taking him to Mile High every day was working out. Skeet watched him when they were all out on excursions, and he occasionally accompanied Hayley when she took groups to Solace Falls. Sarge was eating up the attention, and the extra treats.

  It was a good life they were building here. Regardless of any weirdness, she was happy. Yeah, a few weird Will twinges, but overall happy.

  “Tori!”

  Tori waved over at Cora, who must’ve just gotten home from school and picking Micah up from basketball camp.

  “Still good for movie night? I’ve got mac and cheese in the oven.”

  “Yup,” Tori returned. She’d been looking forward to this all day. A night in with her friend—an actual female friend—with movies and junk food and no crying over Will. “Just give me a chance to shower and I’ll be over.”

  Yeah, a really good life with friends and a good job and a social life.

  Why the hell were tears pricking her eyes? Couldn’t she just enjoy something without getting all emotional?

  She stepped into her house, slamming the door behind her, already stripping as she headed toward the shower.

  “I’ll get used to it,” she told Sarge. She’d get used to the good stuff—the way it made her chest hurt it was so good. The fear it’d all be swept away.

  Sarge went straight for his bowl of food and water, though God knew Skeet was sneaking him scraps most of the day.

  Tori went into her bathroom and turned the water to hot. She took a quick shower, washing off the dust and grime of rock climbing, and the weird overemotional feelings with it.

  She flicked off the shower and dried herself off. She worked through her hair with a towel numerous times, but no matter how long she lingered, it was going to be a wet mass. She’d need to braid it even though her arms ached at the thought.

  When a knock sounded at the door, Tori rolled her eyes with a little smile. Cora could be impatient, but it was nice that someone wanted to spend time with her. Someone who didn’t have anything to do with the past or complicated feelings. Someone who wouldn’t kiss her and she wasn’t going to kiss back.

  The perfect friend.

  “I said I’d be over in a minute,” she yelled, heading toward the door as she pulled her shirt on over her head. She padded barefoot to the front door and wrenched it open.

  She might have actually gasped. Which was silly and dramatic, but the last person she’d expected to see on her doorstep was Will.

  “Hi,” he offered as though it was the most normal thing in the world for him to be on her doorstep. “I brought you some dinner. Pizza.”

  She blinked at him and then the box he held. “I . . . Sorry . . . What?”

  “I knew you had a rock climbing excursion, and you know whenever I do the hard ones I never feel much like cooking when I get home. So I thought I’d bring you dinner.”

  “Without asking me?”

  He flashed her a grin, and her stomach did that jiggly, turning thing it wasn’t supposed to do with him anymore.

  “If I’d asked, you would have said no.”

  Why some part of her wanted to laugh was beyond her, but she kept her mouth firm. “I have plans.” He wasn’t going to charm his way into her house. He wasn’t going to . . . well, whatever this was.

  “Real plans or Will-go-away plans?”

  “Real plans. Cora and I have instituted Wednesday night movie nights,” she said as loftily as she could manage with the smell of pizza infiltrating her nostrils.

  Her stomach rumbled. God, she was hungry.

  “Oh, Cora. That’s fine. You know what, I’ll go grab another pizza. I bet Micah can put away one by himself, so maybe two. Here. I’ll be back.” He shoved the box of pizza at her and started walking away.

  “I’m not inviting you!” she yelled after him.

  He kept walking back to his Jeep with a wave. “It’s okay. I invited myself.”

  She stared after him even after his Jeep disappeared down the street. What the hell
? What. The. Hell.

  Sarge offered a belated bark. Or maybe he was begging for pizza.

  “Thanks a lot,” she muttered. She glanced once more at where Will’s Jeep had disappeared.

  He was joking or something. That was all. A peace-offering pizza and a joke. Surely. She shoved her feet into flip-flops and grabbed the box of wine she’d picked up for the occasion. Balancing both the wine and the pizza on top of each other, she pulled out her keys and whistled for Sarge.

  Will was joking. He wasn’t really bringing pizza. He wasn’t.

  She took the step onto Cora’s stoop and glanced once more at the street. He wasn’t coming back. She knocked once, then opened the door and stepped inside.

  “In the kitchen,” Cora called as Sarge headed for the stairs. Micah must be in his room.

  Tori forced her legs to take her to the kitchen where Cora was frowning at a casserole dish full of . . . black bumps?

  “I did it just like Lilly told me to do,” Cora said, scowling.

  “What is it?”

  “It was mac and cheese. I didn’t even make it! I was just reheating it and somehow it still burned. Oh.” She glanced up and grinned. “You brought pizza?”

  “Um.”

  “Oh, it’s the new place!” Cora took the box of wine and the pizza box out of Tori’s hands. “I heard a rumor that the guy who runs it is really hot. I’m going to start jogging by it in the mornings and see if I can fall in front of him or something.”

  Tori laughed. Cora was always entertaining. But . . . pizza. “So, something weird happened.”

  “Oh, let me guess,” Cora said, pulling paper plates out of a cabinet. “It has to do with Will.”

  Tori scowled.

  “It does, doesn’t it?”

  “How did you know that?” Tori demanded irritably.

  Cora laughed. “I’d love to say because of my innate and amazing intuition, but Micah was yelling down about seeing Will’s Jeep park out front, and since he didn’t come here, I assume he went to you.”

  “He wasn’t.”

  “He wasn’t what?”

  “I mean he was . . . Okay, so he came to my door. With pizza. He brought me dinner, he said. I said I was busy and he . . .” She blew out a breath. “Why am I always coming over talking about him?”