Her cheeks flush. "You can't distract me with memories of sex."
"It would have killed me to see you stay with Ryan. It did kill me."
Our eyes meet and she curls her lips into a smile. She's receptive to this.
No, she's here, in my apartment, cleaning me up.
She's in this for the long haul.
I don't know how I got so lucky, but she loves me. She loves me enough to stick around even when I punch out my business partner.
I brush the hair from her eyes. "I've been thinking."
"Rare for you."
I nod. "If he won't dissolve the business, I'll sell. He's not as aggressive as I am--"
"Your black eye disagrees."
I laugh. "In court." I take her hand. "But I have to admit, he's a decent lawyer. He'll manage my old clients okay." I look down at Alyssa. She's here, with me, and that's all that matters. "It's not ideal, but I'd rather he be out of our lives."
There's such a sweetness in her eyes. Maybe all this time I've been the one that needs her, instead of the other way around.
She smiles. "I'm proud of you."
"Really?"
"This requires great maturity."
"I'm trying to learn."
I run my fingertips along her cheek. She melts into the gesture, nesting into my hand. I'm tempted to stay quiet, to soak in this moment forever.
But I don't have the patience for it.
"Please tell me this space is over. Tell me you'll be mine forever."
"Forever is a long time." She holds my gaze.
"You're torturing me on purpose."
She nods, her teeth sinking into her lip. "You had to know your torturing would come back to haunt you."
"It's worth it." I slide off the counter and move closer to her.
With my hands on her waist, I bring our bodies together. Until we're only inches apart. Until I know that no matter the distance, nothing in the world could ever separate us.
"I love you, Alyssa."
"I love you too."
I reach for her hand and squeeze it tight. "I know things aren't perfect yet. I know we have a lot more kinks to work out, but I want to work them out with you. I'll go anywhere you go."
"Me too."
She closes her eyes, and our lips touch again, and everything is right with the world again.
Everything is in color again.
***
It's a sunny day. But then again it's always sunny here. I didn't tell Alyssa where we were going--only that it was important to me--but I'm sure she guessed by the time the 405 merged into the 5.
The bouquet of flowers was probably a dead giveaway.
Neither of us is wearing black, but this isn't a somber occasion.
She follows me out of the car, walking slowly on the grass. She's wearing sneakers, a brand new pair of hot pink sneakers, and she wants to keep them clean.
"I'll buy you a new pair," I offer.
She shakes her head. The grass is wet, from the sprinklers no doubt, and there are small patches of mud everywhere. Alyssa takes huge leaps to avoid them. She lands on her tiptoes like some kind of ballerina.
"Come here," I say. I slide my hands under her ass and lift her into my arms.
"You know I'm not going to fuck you in a cemetery."
"There's always after."
She shakes her head, but she's smiling. She likes the idea. Hell, her cheeks are red. She's probably envisioning it right now.
"Mr. Lawrence, this is a family establishment. You shouldn't discuss those kinds of base things."
"Uh-huh."
I let her down and she latches on to my shoulders. She stares straight through my eyes. It's like she's looking into my soul, like she can see everything inside of me.
She brushes her lips against mine. It's soft and sweet. Enough to make me melt.
"Come on." She takes my hand and squeezes tight.
I lead her through the cemetery. I still remember the way--ten rows from the back, three columns from the left. And there they are--the slate gray tombstones--Emilia Lawrence and Edward Lawrence.
I run my thumb over her fingers. "I've never been here with anyone else."
"Thanks for taking me."
"I never came here much. I always felt bad about it, like I was disappointing her again. They were fighting over me. If it hadn't been for me, she would never have run out of the house. She would have never gotten into the accident."
"It was an accident. There's nothing you could have done about it."
"I know, but... it's been so long now--ten years almost--and nothing has ever taken away that uneasy feeling in my gut. Nothing but being with you."
"I get the feeling it would be horribly inappropriate to kiss you the way I want to."
"It would be much worse if you tore off my clothes and fucked me senseless, but I wouldn't complain."
She shakes her head. "You aren't that irresistible."
"Now that's a bald-faced lie."
Her lips curl into a smile. "Maybe. But I've gained a lot of self-control." She raises onto her tiptoes and presses her lips into mine. "I'm sorry you hurt so much."
"Everyone hurts."
She nods. "But you've been through so much, and you've done most of it on your own."
I squeeze her hand. "I don't want to do it on my own anymore. After my mom died, I couldn't shake the idea that it was my fault. If she hadn't been taking such good care of me, defending me against my dad, it never would have happened." I press my fingers into the bouquet. "I know, intellectually, that it was an accident. That it was because of weather and some other driver's mistake, but it still felt like it was my fault. I convinced myself that I could survive without ever needing someone again, that things would be easier that way."
"Everyone needs helps sometimes."
I kneel and place the bouquet on my mom's grave.
"I miss her," I say. "She was the greatest mom in the world. She wasn't perfect, but she was always there for me."
"I'm sorry."
She moves closer to me until I can feel her heart beating.
"I always blamed my dad," I say. "I started hating him the day she died, and I never stopped. I still haven't stopped. At first it was for hurting Mom. Then it was for hurting Samantha. I was always angry at him... but never sad. And even though I hated him... he was my dad. I still remember our family trips to the park, playing catch, him trying desperately to convince me not to watch movies with my mom. He had good intentions. She did show me the most horribly violent movies. They were completely inappropriate for me."
The sun is high in the sky, bringing out the vivid hues of the grass, the flowers, even the tombstones.
"He was awful, but it still hurt to lose him," I say.
"You've carried a lot on your shoulders."
I turn to Alyssa. "I'm not saying I'm going to be perfect, or that we're going to be perfect. But I want to do things right, Ally. I want to be there for you. It's hard to admit it, but I want you to be there for me too. I know we have problems, but I know I can take on anything if it's with you."
She smiles. "I want to be there." She moves closer to me, wrapping her body around mine. "I love you. No matter what happens, I love you."
"I love you too," I say. I press my lips to hers, and I know that, somehow, everything is going to be okay.
Author's Note
Thank you so much for reading Rouse Me. If you enjoyed the novel, please leave a review. Honest reviews help authors and readers alike.
Follow Luke and Alyssa's journey in Fill Me, the final installment of the Rouse Me trilogy.
Join my mailing list for updates, deleted scenes, first peeks, and all sorts of other goodies.
Rouse Me Series
Rouse Me (Book 1)
Stir Me (Book 2)
Fill Me (Book 3)
Acknowledgments
My dearest Kevin, you are definitely the honey in my tea. I am eternally grateful for your patience listening to all my crazy p
itches, blurb revisions, and minor freak outs. I know we are going to have an amazing life together. To my father, thank you for always encouraging my reading and writing, and for taking me to the bookstore when I was supposed to be grounded. To my mother, I know you don't always understand the path I have chosen, but thank you for believing in me.
Sara, you are the reason why this book is not riddled with typos. Stacie, Amanda, Elly, and Susie-- you are the best beta readers a girl could ask for. Stay honest and brutal. Yoly, you make one hell of a cover.
And to all my writing friends--Eitan, Kevin, Angela, Matt, Jane, Melanie--I wouldn't be half the writer or person I am today without you. Especially Eitan. May our emails never die.
And to all the readers--thank you for giving this series a chance. I hope you loved it, but most of all, I hope it made you feel something.
Fill Me Sneak Peek
"I missed you so much."
Luke's face lights up when I step into the restaurant. God, I missed him too. I missed those big, pretty eyes of his, the way he looks at me like I'm his morning cup of tea, that caffeine that he so desperately needs.
It's been barely any time at all. Five days. One week of shooting on location, far, far away from Los Angeles.
He wraps his arms around me, his lips hovering over my ears. My body hums from the proximity again. It's as good as the first time he touched me. It's still electric.
"I missed you too," I say. And I bury myself deeper in his chest, inhaling him. He smells good, he always does. Like soap and Luke and my shampoo. The obscenely girly honey-scented shampoo I buy at Lush.
He brushes his cheek against mine. My whole body feels light, like I'm floating. It really does feel like it's been an eternity since I've been in his arms, since I've felt his skin against mine.
There's no way it was only five days.
"How did you bribe Laurie into releasing you early?" he asks.
"I'm the star. I get to make all kinds of ridiculous demands."
"I'll use that to my advantage."
I inhale him again, letting the feeling of being back in Luke's arms soak over me. How was this only five days? It felt like an eternity.
"You're using my shampoo," I say.
"And your conditioner." He squeezes me tighter then pulls back to look at me. His eyes are so bright, so full of life. "It smells like you."
"Barely, I only wash my hair once a week."
"It's close enough." He offers his hand, his palm flat like he's Prince Charming asking me to dance. I brush my fingers against his palm, a properly coquettish response.
"I promised her a sleepover," I say.
"She's a little old for that."
"But she's incredibly abusive of her power. Reminds me of someone I know."
"I do no such thing," he says.
"Then why is your assistant always booking my appointments?" I ask.
He sighs dreamily. "Remind me about this assistant again. Am I really so important that I have my very own assistant?"
Luke used to work with my ex, Ryan. They were partners in a tiny two-man law firm. About six months ago Luke sold his half of the practice to Ryan. He wanted to cut any ties with him forever.
Now Luke works independently. He's a divorce lawyer and he adores his job. He's always going on and on about the virtues of dissolving toxic marriages.
I bite my lip. "You certainly didn't forget how to gloat in the last few days."
He squeezes my hand and points me to the staircase. "Miss Summers, I'd love to stand here talking shit about your boss all night, but our reservation is for seven."
"Is that so?"
"Yes, and I'd hate to be late to my anniversary dinner. It would be dreadfully embarrassing."
"So it would," I say.
His leans down and brushes his lips against mine. His lips are so soft and sweet, like always, and kissing him feels like home.
I follow Luke upstairs. He tried to convince me we should celebrate our anniversary at the restaurant where we shared our first meal, but I wouldn't hear it. Ryan still works across the street, and I don't want to ruin a year of bliss by running into my bitter ex-boyfriend.
Instead, we're at a secluded restaurant on the other side of the marina. It's close to the water, close enough that we should have a gorgeous view of the sunset. But it's quiet, unusually quiet.
When I get to the top floor, I see why. There's space for a hundred people, but no one is here. Light streams through the windows, bouncing off the clean hardwood floors. There's only one table set up, one table just for us.
My jaw drops. It's perfect. Luke knew I was dreading potential interruptions. Between Model Citizen taking off and my last film winning an Independent Spirit Award, I'm recognizable. Every few days someone stops me to offer a compliment or, if I'm really lucky, a criticism of the show.
But not tonight.
Tonight it's only us.
Luke smiles ear to ear. "I promised you'd like it."
"I never doubted you."
The light from the windows falls over him. He looks so sharp in his black suit and royal blue tie, his dark hair falling in soft waves. He has to wear a suit for work, but he doesn't usually go all out.
"Stop objectifying me," he says with a grin.
"But you look so good."
His eyes pass over my body. "You're not so bad yourself." He leans closer, his fingers on my upper back, his breath on my ear. "You know that's my favorite dress."
"Oh, this old thing?" I ask with put-on coyness. It's a very sexy dress--smooth blue silk that clings to my curves. Especially my chest.
"God damn, Alyssa. You are going to pay for wearing that."
"I'm looking forward to it."
He pulls my chair out for me and sits across from me. There's a candle in the middle of the table and it glows with a soft light.
"I can't believe it's been a year," he says
"Me either."
"It's been the best year of my life."
"But we... took a break," I say.
"No. We got some space. And space is a normal, healthy thing for two people to have."
"Is that right?" I ask.
"Yes." He offers his hand, and I take it. "Even though I hate it."
"You have a business to run," I say.
"But it would be so much more fun to quit and spend my life traveling the world with you."
"You'd get bored."
"Never," he says. "I could never get bored of you."
"You love your job."
"Yes, but I love you more."
I feel my cheeks flush. I know it must be true--we've been together for a year. A year ago, I dumped Ryan's sorry ass to be with Luke. We've been through a lot, like Luke's awful ex trying to manipulate him into a relationship, but it's been amazing.
I was never a romantic person. I'm still not, not really. But, being with him, I finally understand. I understand pop songs, greeting cards, proposals written in the sky.
Being with Luke is everything. He's so sweet. He's an insufferable tease. He's needy and obsessive and incredibly immature, but I wouldn't change him for anything.
He's perfect.
"What are you thinking, Ally?" He looks at me with those big, brown eyes of his. They're so damn earnest.
I shake my head. "It's nothing."
"It looked like something."
"Just that I love you," I say. "That's all."
His face lights up with the purest joy. God, that was it. The first time I saw his face light up like that, I was hooked.
"Go on."
"In your dreams."
He shakes his head. "No, my dreams of you are never that tame."
"Mr. Lawrence," I say, "this is a family restaurant."
"So it is."
"But I wouldn't necessarily ask you to stop."
"Would you ever ask me to stop?"
I bite my lip. We've been so busy--I've had early calls times and he's been home late--that we've barely touched each other in the last
two weeks.
Tonight can't come soon enough.
"We'll see," I say.
"Believe me, Ally, you're going to be in agony tonight. In the most delightful agony. You're going to beg me to do anything to release you from that agony."
***
Dinner is an amazing, three-course affair--a fresh salad with plump tomatoes, seared sea bass with braised kale and roasted yams, and a plate of chocolate-dipped strawberries.
The sun sets, until the only light is from the stars outside and the candle flickering between us. I tell Luke about all the irrelevant details of my trip--the oppressive sunshine in Arizona, getting dragged to townie bars by the other cast members, Laurie scolding the director of the week for getting too invested in his shots.
After dinner, Luke insists on driving. "It's a surprise," he says. He takes me to the bookstore, the place where we had our first real date or something like it. Just like the first time, we walk around the aisles, our fingers lingering on the crisp paper. We find a corner upstairs in the nonfiction section, and we steal a long, deep kiss. It's been so long, and there's so much need pouring from both of us. His hands brush against my thighs, all the way to the edges of my dress, and I moan into his mouth. "Not here," I say.
"Of course not here," he says. He nods to the movie theater across the street. "Not when I have a chance to repeat one of my favorite--"
"We're not going to luck into an empty theater tonight."
"Miss Summers. What do you take me for--some kind of pervert?"
"What do you have planned?"
He just smiles, squeezes my hand, and leads me to the theater.
Inside, the theater is the same as it was before--fluorescent and almost empty. That's not a huge surprise--there's a new, cool movie theater across the street. One that serves dinner and drinks and has couches that beg you to push the limits of decency laws.
Of course, I don't need any extra motivation. My body has been flooding with want since I first felt my arms around him. He was right. This is already agony. It's going to be such delicious agony.
We buy tickets to a film that started five minutes ago. The usher assures us that the trailers are still rolling, that the theater is nearly empty. He looks at us like he knows what we have planned. Are we really that obvious?
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