by S. M. West
“Her parents have a place on Rosseau. Anyway, someone they know mentioned they were at your place the other night.” Her gaze scans like CSI looking for evidence. “I could hardly believe it when she said your name. I had to come see for myself.”
My heart slides back to where it belongs—he didn’t invite her—but it’s barely beating. Scarlett doesn’t just drop in. There must be a reason, and it’s time for me to make myself scarce.
“Drew, the house is amazing.” Her brown eyes find his, and it feels intimate. “But it needs work.”
“Yeah, that’s why I got it for a decent price. But even still, there was a bidding war.”
I might be imagining it, but his voice takes on a deeper, more authoritative tone, almost as if he has something to prove. She latches onto his comment, and they talk about how crazy real estate is and how he was lucky to come out on top.
Caught up in each other, neither notices my departure. My stomach is spinning, and I don’t feel so good.
I met Scarlett a couple years ago and desperately wanted to hate her. I actually did at first or, rather, told myself I did. I mean, I couldn’t compete with her even if I wanted to.
She’s accomplished and refined but not in a snooty way. An up-and-coming star attorney, even at this early stage in her career, and as if that wasn’t enough, she’s stunning and brunette—everything Drew’s into. Oh, and she’s nice. Even when I acted like a brat, she was kind to me.
I soon gave up trying to hate her and followed Paige’s lead. It wasn’t hard to be friends, and I didn’t have to see her that often. Only with Drew.
Closing the room door, I flop onto the bed and text Paige.
Me: You’ll never guess who stopped by
Paige: ???
Me: Scarlett
Paige: NO WAY!!
Before I type my response, my phone rings. Paige.
“Ohmigod, are they getting back together?” She sounds breathless.
“Way to stab a girl in the heart,” I deadpan. “Does Drew want her back? Who broke up with whom, anyway?” I can’t believe I never asked until now. That little detail is crucial.
“Aww, I’m sorry, babe. I don’t know. Drew doesn’t tell me shit. The jerk,” she jokes. “I think she broke it off, but he wasn’t upset about it.”
A crunching sound crackles over the line.
“What are you eating?”
“Umm, your caramel popcorn.” Her voice is barely a whisper. She knows better.
“P, not cool. This is what you do, raid my stash of comfort food, when I’m working my ass off helping your brother and getting my heart ripped out?”
“Babe, you’d give Drew more than your ass if he’d take it, so don’t lay that on me.” She snorts, and I snicker. “And I’m sorry about your popcorn. I was starving, and we have nothing to eat.”
“You better replace it before I get home. You know what happens if I’m out when I have a craving.”
“Gawd, don’t remind me.” I can almost see her rolling her eyes. “There’ll be some in the cupboard before you get home. Speaking of which, when are you coming home? You were vague in your text this morning.”
“If I could come home now, I would.”
“Aww, babe, you’re makin’ me feel bad and mad at my big brother.”
Paige defending me lightens my mood, but it doesn’t last long. Laughter invades the safety of my room, and I curl into myself on the mattress, groaning.
“Now they’re laughing. Isn’t that special?” Sarcasm tastes nasty on my lips or maybe it’s the sound of their fun. “I’m gonna cry now.”
I’m trying to be funny, but it isn’t working. Tears prick at my eyes, and I blink them away, balling my fists into the bed. I’m not going to cry over Drew Hayes. I’ve already shed too many tears for that man.
“Boo!” Paige’s coo pulls me from my funk. “No, don’t go. I wish I was there to hug you, and then I’d punch Drew in the junk. Why’d you have to like my brother anyway?”
“You know why,” I say at the same time she says, “Don’t answer that. It’s because you want to be closer to me. You love me so much and can’t get enough of me.”
That does it, and my smile is back. I laugh, wiping at my damp eyelashes, and mentally banish my tears.
“Darling, we can’t be any closer than we already are. We practically share everything—well, except for panties and toothbrushes because that’s just eww.”
“This is true. And we don’t share boys. Thank goodness. Your taste in men is atrocious.”
“Oh, that’s rich coming from Miss I-hook-up-with-losers.”
Paige rushes to defend her taste in the opposite sex, or more specifically, the deadbeat bad boys she’s drawn to, when there’s a knock at my door. Before I’m able to sit up on the bed or even think about which one of them it might be, Scarlett walks in, smiling.
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you were on the phone. I can come back,” she says at the same time she sits on the bed.
Okay. She wants to talk and she’s willing to wait me out. This should be fun. I’m guessing she’ll ask me to leave. Because, let’s face it, in this situation—we love the same man—three can be a crowd.
I hold up a finger for Scarlett to wait while Paige rambles on over the phone line, oblivious to my uninvited visitor. When my best friend finally pauses to take a breath, I jump at the opportunity.
“Babe, I’m going to have to call you back.”
I end the call before Paige can protest or ask a question. From the looks of things, we’re going to be on the phone for a long time after my tête-à-tête with Scarlett.
“What’s up?” I arch my brow in question.
“I just wanted to say hi before I go.”
“You’re leaving?”
“Yes, I’ve got work. How have you been? It’s been what? Over a year since I’ve seen you.”
“Has it been that long?” My tone is deliberately disbelieving, counter to the painstaking detail by which I can recall the last time we saw each other, and more importantly, the last time I saw Drew.
“Yes, hard to believe. It was at Camellia’s and you were with a lacrosse player, Roger or Rex?”
I remember. My family and Paige’s gather weekly at one of Sam’s restaurants. That time, it was Camellia’s.
“Rory.”
I blush, realizing she’s more observant than I gave her credit for, and a knot forms in my stomach; this is definitely more than a great-to-see-you chat.
“Are you two still together?”
“No.” I scoot back on the bed, suddenly feeling a little too close. “It wasn’t serious.”
“Ah, I see. You guys were super cozy if I remember correctly.”
What is she getting at? Normally, I wouldn’t be fazed by her questions, but my Spidey sense tells me there’s a lot more to this line of questioning. Never one to beat around the bush, I get to the point.
“What’s this about?”
My directness startles her, not overtly—as a lawyer she’s used to interrogation—but the slight quirk of her perfectly-shaped brow gives her away.
“You always were quick and open, weren’t you?” She glances to her flattened palm lightly gliding across the bedspread. “I didn’t think I was that transparent, and to tell you the truth, I didn’t know I was going to do this.”
Sincerity shades her gaze, sucking me in like quicksand. As uncomfortable as I feel—stuck and unable to escape—I square my shoulders. I’m not doing it to be combative but more out of need. A need to steel myself for whatever this is.
“Yeah, I’m direct, but so are you,” I counter. “That’s why I’m lost.”
She laughs at the bold truth. “When I first saw you, I thought you two had finally stopped your stupid dodgeball and got together.” She shakes her head, and her dark locks sway seductively. “But then you slipped away.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He’s always had a thing for you, even if he won’t admit it. I s
ometimes wonder if he even knows.”
“Scarlett…”
I don’t know what to say.
My mouth opens and closes. I’d wanted her to be direct, and I’d figured it had to do with Drew, but I never thought she would say it quite like that. She pats my knee gently.
“I don’t blame you or Drew for the fact we didn’t work out. I ended things. I realized I’d never fully had him. He tried, and he gave me as much of himself as he could, but…” She pauses, glancing to the door with a faraway expression. “You have his heart.”
My heart knocks wildly against my ribcage and I’m seriously at a loss for words. I can’t believe what she’s saying and more than anything, I want to believe it. More importantly, I wish Drew was saying this to me, not his ex.
“I’m sorry.” I sound more bewildered than sincere and inwardly cringe, hoping she doesn’t think I'm flippant or cold.
“I mean, I didn’t know that’s what you thought, or Drew for that matter, although I’m not so sure about that. Either way, if that’s what you think, I feel responsible for your break up.”
“No, no. Pippa, I didn’t tell you to make you feel bad.” She stands, running a hand down the front of her flawless shift dress. “I’m not sure why I told you.”
Again, she looks away. I’ve never seen her like this before. She’s usually so in charge and confident, like I imagine she commands a courtroom, but now she seems lost and a little sad.
“Really?” She turns to me. “I saw your face when Drew and I started talking. It was like I’d stolen your favorite toy, or worse, your boyfriend.”
My heart sinks into my stomach at how wrong that sounds. I don’t have a claim to Drew, but she’s right. I’m sure that’s exactly the expression I was wearing because that’s how I felt.
“I hope you know I never made a move on him.”
I don’t know why I feel the need to explain, but the guilt for something I never did is overwhelming. If I’m being honest, I had wished they’d break up, many times. I’d imagined endless scenarios in which Drew would leave her for me. Realize he was madly in love with me.
“I know. Neither of you did anything, it was just there. Always there.”
Her smile is tight but judging by how she reaches out to reassure me with a shoulder squeeze, she’s genuine.
“I needed to tell you that I’m not a threat. We’re over. I only dropped by to see the place because I know how much he wanted this. That’s all.”
She steps to the door.
“I love Drew and want him to find happiness, but we’re friends. And, Pippa.” Her pause is brief, but it feels like I’m on the edge of a cliff, forced to go forward. “I believe that’s with you, so don’t waste any more time. Go get him.”
9
Drew
The taillights of Scarlett’s VW fades into the trees, and I feel lighter and, strangely, nothing else. It was good to see her; our first encounter since the breakup is now out of the way, but that’s it.
We are done, and I’m good with that. There are no lingering regrets or what-ifs, and she seems fine with it too.
The weird part was Pippa’s disappearance. Scarlett gave me the look. The all-knowing look she was quick to give whenever we disagreed and she vehemently believed she was right. In this case, what the heck is she right about?
“Hey, Pip,” I call, closing the front door and climbing the stairs. “Why don’t you grab a shower, and I’ll start dinner. Or we could order pizza and wings?”
At the threshold to her room, my gaze fixes on her slender form sprawled across the bed. Her shapely bronze legs beg to be touched and my palms itch. So incredibly long and so fucking sexy; I can’t help but remember those legs wrapped around me in the lake.
“Takeout sounds good, but first, let’s finish our conversation from before we were interrupted.”
“Pippa,” I drawl, lowering my chin to my chest to avoid her gaze and rubbing the back of my neck nervously.
“That’s your tell, you know.”
“What is?”
“Scratching your neck like that. It means you’re uncomfortable or you're dodging.”
“Get out.”
I chuckle dismissively, ignoring the fact that Mom has said as much before.
“You should work on that because you do it in the courtroom. Any lawyer worth their salt will pick up on it and eventually use it to their advantage.”
“How would you know what I do in court?”
“I’ve seen you.”
My eyes widen, and the sound of the blood rushing through my body fills my ears. Why am I excited knowing she’s seen me in action?
“When?” I challenge, not fully believing but wanting to.
“About six months ago. A woman was assaulted by her brother.”
I remember the case. A really tricky one. It was her word against his despite the photographs of her injuries. The family was divided on whom to believe, and there were no witnesses. We won, but it took its toll on the woman, as if having her brother beat her within an inch of her life wasn’t enough.
“And what did you think?”
“I thought you were fucking hot.”
Her eyes liquefy—large, desirous cobalt irises. I laugh hard, surprised and flattered, and my cock twitches. Down boy.
She pushes onto her hands and knees, slinking toward me cat-like. Slow and sultry.
Heavy-lidded, her long honey eyelashes fan her cheeks, and she licks her lips, casting her gaze up at me. My legs tremble as if I’m at risk of being knocked off my feet.
“You were so hot,” she whispers huskily, and the crotch of my pants tightens. “All eyes on you. Commanding the room in the name of justice.”
For a split second, I wonder if she’s mocking me, but she’s charged with admiration, and my chest swells.
Now pushing onto her knees, her fingers tiptoe up my thigh, skating close to my hardening cock and up my stomach to my chest.
I’m hypnotized.
She’s close enough that her unforgettable scent consumes me, and her pretty lips glisten with a grin. I’m ignoring all common sense—we’re skirting the forbidden—and for the life of me, I can’t remember why I should stop this. Stop her.
She fists my shirt, inching toward me and I feel her hardening nipples through the thin fabric against my chest. Our faces are so close, and the warmth of her sweet breath caresses my mouth, causing my balls to tighten.
“Tell me why you deliberately avoided me for the better part of a year and don’t even try to deny it. Even Scarlett knows that’s what you did.”
Like a cold slap to the face, the mention of my ex breaks the spell. I jerk out of her grip, and she’s shocked, not anticipating my sudden move. My fingers sink into the silky flesh of her waist and steady her.
“What? Scarlett said that?”
Pippa nods, licking her lips again, and I need to step away. I’m losing my train of thought with all her tongue action and being this close to her.
“What did she say?” I back up, and the spark dims in her eyes.
“Just what I said. That you deliberately stayed away.” Her voice quivers, and I’m not sure if that’s because she’s fibbing or nervous or both.
“Why? She told you that just now? Did she say anything else?”
My questions are rapid-fire, as if I’m trying to confuse a witness and break down their barriers. Pippa is unfazed.
“Which question do you want me to answer first?” is her cheeky response.
“You know what, let’s forget it.”
I rub at the back of my neck, then stop, spinning on my heel, eager to leave.
“Since when did you become a coward?”
She steps off the bed, right into my path.
“What the?”
Bumping my chest with hers, Pippa is now in my face, and my irritation peters out, replaced by disbelief but quickly followed by desire.
“You’re a coward.” She nudges my torso again, and I bite back my amusement
at her insult.
“I’m not.” I clasp her shoulders and dip my head to meet her gaze.
“Then tell me why you avoided me for so long?”
Every one of her words is sharp yet vulnerable as if she’s uncertain if she wants me to answer. Or she’s worried she won’t like what I have to say.
I’m tired of fighting her, and maybe if we talk, she’ll understand and back off. Maybe together, we can figure out a way to be around each other and keep it platonic.
I don’t want Pippa out of my life. I care about her and want to see every one of her dreams come true.
“Fine.”
I release her, then perch on the bed, and she follows suit, sitting and angling her body toward me. She waits patiently while I gather my thoughts.
“It was too hard to see you with another guy.”
“What?” Her mouth hangs open for a second too long before she snaps it shut.
A little too smugly, I smirk and stand, uncomfortable with our proximity.
“Wait.” She grabs at my forearm, and our gazes drift to where we’re joined. She must feel it too. “You need to explain yourself. I don’t understand.”
Knots form in my stomach with thoughts of confessing why I ran like a coward. She’s right. I don’t know how to admit my feelings and that I’ve had them for a long time.
Shoving my hands into my pockets, I study her tense posture. She’s holding her breath, waiting for me to breathe life into her.
“You were there with Ralph or Roger or—”
“Rory?”
“Yeah, and I didn’t like it. No, I fucking hated it, and I had no right to.” Facing the window, I watch as twilight falls.
“Why? Because of Scarlett?”
She inches closer, trying to catch my gaze, and I nod, rubbing at the back of my neck, but quickly drop my hand. That is a nasty habit.
“Yeah. I had a girlfriend and I loved her.”
Pippa flinches, shoulders hunched with a slight frown. In recent years, Scarlett was just as much a reason why I kept my distance as Finn was, if not more.
“We’ve had this thing between us for years.” With my first few words, the lump in my throat lessens. “Call it a crush or whatever, but we’ve fought it.”