by Force, Marie
Standing, I run my fingers through my hair and step into my shoes. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say without looking at him.
“Yep.”
He sounds pissed—probably because he thought he was going to get laid—but I don’t stick around to determine whether that’s the case. I leave the bedroom, grab my purse and keys from the counter and am riding the elevator to the parking garage less than a minute later, filled with relief that makes no sense whatsoever to me. Emmett accused me of running, which is exactly what I’m doing.
In all the time that I’ve nursed my unreasonable crush on him, it has never occurred to me what it might be like to have him return my feelings, to make this about more than just sex, to make me want things he’s not prepared to give. Tears fill my eyes, which infuriates me. I don’t cry over men. That’s not who I am, but it’s one of many things that’s different with him.
I get into my car and sit there for a long moment, staring at the cement wall without seeing anything other than my own cowardice. Shaking off those troubling thoughts, I start the car and drive the short distance home, wishing it wasn’t so late so I could call Nat. When I get home, I send her a text to ask if she’s still up.
A flat package is propped against my door that I pick up and tuck under my arm. I’m walking into my apartment when my phone rings. “Hey.”
“Hey, yourself. What’s up?”
“I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“Nope. We were still up. Are you okay?”
“I don’t know. Things got kind of weird tonight.”
“How so?”
“We were fooling around, and it got kind of… intense.”
“Did he hurt you?”
“God, no, nothing like that.” I drop onto the sofa and put my head back, closing my eyes. “I’m scared, Nat.”
“Of him?”
“No! Not like that… I just… It’s too much. I haven’t… Not like this.”
“Oh my God, you’re in love with him.”
“I don’t want to be. This wasn’t supposed to be about love. I just wanted to fuck him and have some fun. Wait… Are you laughing?”
“No,” she says, sounding strangled. “Of course not.”
“Yes, you are, you bitch. I can hear you.”
“You have to admit that it is kind of funny.”
“It’s not funny! It’s ridiculous.” And then I’m sobbing, which further undoes me because I don’t do this shit!
“Leah, honey, come on. This is a good thing.”
“No, I don’t think it is. It’s not what he wants.”
“Did he say that?”
“Not in so many words, but the message is clear. He wants to fuck me, but that’s the extent of it.”
“You don’t know that.”
I want to curl up into the fetal position and never come out. Is this what love feels like? Because I want to unsubscribe. “I forced myself on him, and what red-blooded guy is going to say no to a woman who’s willing to do whatever he wants in bed? That’s the only reason he let me hang out with him.”
“You’re selling yourself awfully short. You’re a gorgeous, sexy, funny, amazing woman. Why wouldn’t he want more with you?”
“He doesn’t do more. I don’t think he’s ever been in a serious relationship. What does that tell you?”
“That he hasn’t found anyone who matters before now?”
“He said he was in love once, but it didn’t work out.”
“You want me to see if I can find out what the deal is with that?”
I want to pounce on her offer, but I can’t invade his privacy that way. See? I do have my limits. “No but thank you for offering.” I wipe the dampness from my face with the sleeve of my blouse. Thank goodness for waterproof mascara. “I don’t remember you being this miserable when you were first with Flynn.”
“We had our difficult moments. Everyone does.”
“But you were both committed. This isn’t like that. Only one of us is all in, and that’s why I’m scared. I’m afraid he’s going to crush me. I had to get out of there just now. Every minute I spend with him, especially when we’re naked, only makes it worse.”
“So you’ve decided to stop it now rather than let it go any further?”
Until she says it that way, I hadn’t realized that’s exactly what I was doing. “I guess I have.” The thought of never again experiencing what I did with him makes me profoundly sad. “It’s for the best. He’s made it pretty clear that he thinks I’m way too young for him, and I know he’s conflicted about the work situation. So yeah, it’s better this way.”
“I’m sorry you’re upset. You want me to come over?”
“Oh God, no.” Yes, I do, but I’d never ask her to come all the way to Santa Monica when she’s pregnant and in need of rest. Besides, Flynn would insist on coming with her, and I don’t want him knowing about this. “Don’t tell Flynn, okay?”
“I won’t say anything. Don’t worry. You going to be all right?”
“Sure,” I say with more bravado than I feel. “I got exactly what I wanted. It’s all good.” I don’t mention that I got way more than I bargained for because she already knows that. “I’ll get over it.” Eventually.
“We have a fun weekend to look forward to anyway.”
Yes, a fun weekend celebrating love and joy. I can’t wait to be miserable in the midst of all that happiness. “Definitely.” I’m dying to tell her I know about the club and ask if she’s been there, but I’m out of steam with this day. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Yes, you will, and I’ll check on you tomorrow.”
“Sounds good. Thanks for talking me down.”
“Any time. Try to get some sleep.”
“I will. See you.” I end the call and put the phone on the coffee table as new tears slide down my cheeks. I hate this! Women who weep over men have always driven me crazy. I never understood why they got so emotional over one guy when there’re millions of others out there. Now I get it. Sometimes only one will do. I stare out at the lights of the Santa Monica Pier off in the distance as I relive every minute I’ve spent with Emmett, picking apart each detail looking for deeper meaning that isn’t there.
I open the package, and I’m thrilled to find my Abbey Road album wrapped in bubble wrap, along with a note from the guy in New York apologizing for not returning it sooner. I want so badly to text Emmett and tell him the letter worked, but I can’t do that after the way I left him.
My phone lights up with a text that makes my heart jolt from the possibility that it could be Emmett. But it’s not him. It’s Tom.
I don’t understand what I did wrong and why you won’t give me another chance.
My despair is immediately replaced by cold fear as I realize the only way I’m going to get rid of this guy is to change my number. The thought of that daunting task only further exhausts me. I block the new number. Emmett told me to let him know if I heard from Tom again, but I’ll tell him when I see him. If I tell him now, he’ll be over here with the cops, and I’m not up for that tonight.
Tomorrow is soon enough. Maybe by then I’ll have my head screwed on straight and things can get back to normal. I can only hope.
I don’t see Leah again until I arrive at LAX on Thursday afternoon for the flight to Napa that Addie arranged. Everyone is in high spirits, excited for a fun weekend with our closest friends. Along with Jasper, Ellie, Flynn, Natalie, Sebastian, Kristian, Aileen and her kids, Marlowe has brought her new guy, Rafe, and we’re meeting him for the first time.
I find it odd that she’s brought someone on a trip like this, because she tends to keep her personal life personal. Of course, we see her in dominatrix mode in the clubs, but she’s like me in that she doesn’t do actual relationships—or she never really has before. She’s positively giddy over this new Frenchman, who seems a little too slick and polished for my liking.
But because I love her and she’s obviously delighted with him, I decide to reserve judgment u
ntil I have a chance to get to know him better. Flynn’s parents and sisters are flying up tomorrow along with most of the other wedding guests.
I find Leah sitting alone in the last row of seats. She’s by the window, so I plop down in the aisle seat, startling her. Across the aisle, Marlowe is fully engrossed in Rafe, so I plan to take full advantage of the opportunity to corner Leah on why I’m suddenly getting the silent treatment from her.
I’ll confess to being truly confused by what happened the other night. She’s gone from insinuating herself into my life and my bed to ignoring me for days. Part of me is relieved that she’s clearly changed her mind about driving me crazy. But a far bigger part of me is deeply disappointed that there might not be any more verbal sparring or physical pleasure with her. I’m surprised by how much I miss both those things after a couple of days without them and without her.
I’ve deflected—easily—a hundred questions from the others about what happened to my eye. I told them I smashed it on a door, but I can tell they don’t believe me. How does a door make a full circle around your eye? That had been Kristian’s question during a meeting yesterday. My reply to that had been how the hell do I know how a bruise works. If they knew the truth, they’d be relentless with me—and with her. I’ll never tell them what actually happened, even if I want to laugh every time I think about it.
At least the swelling has gone down to the point where I can see out of the eye now and what I see when I glance her way has me very unsettled. She looks tortured.
“You ready to talk to me yet?” I ask her when the plane is in the air and the others are engaged in conversation or dozing. The drone of the engines makes it so we won’t be overheard.
The look she gives is like a deer in headlights. I wish I knew what she was thinking, but I honestly have no idea what’s going on inside that pretty head of hers. And it’s odd for me to care enough to want to know, but there you have it. The wondering is driving me mad. I raise a brow, letting her know I’m waiting for her to reply.
“Nothing to talk about.”
“So that’s it? You drive me insane for months, work your way under my skin and into my bed, and then you call it off right when it’s starting to get interesting?” Maybe it’s a mistake to confess that she’s under my skin, but I can’t exactly deny that I’ve spent the last few nights trying to figure out what went so terribly wrong between us. When she doesn’t reply, I say, “I never pegged you for being a coward. I guess I was wrong.”
Oh, that makes her mad. Good… I withdraw headphones from my backpack, and I’m about to put them on when she says something I can’t quite hear. “What was that?”
“I said I am not a coward.”
“Could’ve fooled me. You were all gutsy and fearless until shit started getting real, and then you ran. Not sure what other word you’d use to describe that but coward.”
“Stop saying that,” she says, all but growling. “I’m not a coward.”
“You said you love me and then you took off. I guess I’m a little confused about what’s going on here.”
“Why do you care?” she asks in a whisper that sounds more like a hiss. “You don’t want there to be anything between us.”
“When did I say that?” he asks, tongue-in-cheek.
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t pretend you’ve suddenly changed your mind about wanting to stay unencumbered. This is not a relationship.” She does a fairly good impression of me. “Remember saying that?”
I lean in as close to her as I can get, fully invading her personal space. “I remember everything. Every. Single. Thing.”
Her face flushes with heat that leaves a rosy glow in her cheeks. I’m not sure if that’s from anger or arousal. She’s gorgeous all the time, but when her color is up, she’s downright stunning. “I can’t do this,” she says softly, wilting under my potent stare.
“Why not?”
She bites her lip as she debates what she should say. “It’s not going to end well for me.”
“How do you know that?”
“I just do.”
“I thought you might find it interesting that I missed you after you left the other night, and I missed you the other nights, too. When there should’ve been this annoying fly buzzing around my head, there was only silence. I was lonely.”
Her eyes widen with surprise that delights me. I ought to be concerned by just how delighted I am, but I can’t take the time now to dig into that when I finally seem to have her attention. “You were?”
“Yep. Thanks a lot for that, by the way. I was perfectly fine on my own, but then you bombed your way into my life and my home and my bed and made me miss you when you left. I’m kinda pissed with you about that, if I’m telling the truth.”
Her mouth falls open and then snaps shut, her eyes flashing with anger. God, I want her, and there’s no point in denying it to myself—or her. With my back turned to the aisle, I flatten my hand on her thigh and drag it up until I encounter heat between her legs that tells me everything I need to know. She’s not suddenly immune to me, as much as she might want to be. And that she doesn’t push me away tells me even more.
“You’re really going to give up without a fight? That’s not like you.”
“I’m not giving up, and don’t act like you know me so well.” She squirms, and I’m not sure if she’s trying to get away from my hand or get closer to it. Definitely closer… She’s pressing against my hand, so I press back.
I lean in, my lips brushing against her neck. “If you’re not giving up, does that mean you’ll be in my bed tonight?”
She shudders. It’s a full-body event that I feel because I’m pressed up against her.
“Leah?”
“Is that where you want me?”
“Hell yes.”
“For how long?”
“What do you mean?”
With her hand on my shoulder she pushes me back and forces me to meet her gaze. “How long do you want me in your bed? One night? Two? Seven? And then what? What happens to me when you’ve had enough?”
“Who says that’s going to happen?”
She shoots me a withering look. “You said yourself you’ve never been in a real relationship, so why should I believe you’re willing to start now?”
“First time for everything.”
She shoves me and my wandering hand away. “Don’t say stuff you don’t mean.” Her eyes flash with emotion that goes straight to my overcommitted heart.
“I never do.” I take hold of her hand and link our fingers, holding on tight to what I want. I want her. I want us. For the first time since everything happened with Elena, I want to try for something real with Leah. “There are things,” I say haltingly, “that happened in the past that make situations such as this, like us, difficult for me.”
I’m not sure how I feel about being described as a “situation,” but I’m not about to mention that when he’s clearly trying to share something important with me. “Will you tell me about those things?”
If I’m to have any chance at all with her, I know I’ll have to. Sighing, I nod. “I will. Not now, but later.”
“You don’t want to, though.”
“It’s not that so much as it’s something I never talk about. With anyone. It’s a very painful thing.”
“Maybe it would be better to just quit now before this gets any more painful for either of us.”
“Is that what you want?”
She rolls that sexy bottom lip between her teeth again as she studies me with those eyes that seem to see right through me. No one has ever seen me as thoroughly as she does, making it so I can hide nothing from her, even my deepest pain. “Only if you do. It was fun to tease and flirt and think up ways to get your attention, but then it started to get real for me, and I can’t go there if you don’t feel the same way. I just can’t.”
“I do feel the same way.”
“And you’re not just saying that to get me back in your bed?”
I lo
ok her dead in the eye. “I swear to God I’m not just saying that, although I can’t wait to get you back in my bed.”
Chapter 15
Leah takes a deep breath and releases it. And then she smiles at me, a big, genuine smile that fills all the dark places inside me with her luminous light. “I’m a little afraid I’m going to wake up to find that I dreamed this conversation.”
With my free hand, I cup her cheek and turn her face to receive my kiss, which begins softly and sweetly, but quickly turns into something hotter and more intense when her mouth opens and our tongues wrap around each other in the most sensually charged moment of my life. I’ve had every kind of sex with more women than I can count, but this, right here, is the most profound thing that’s ever happened with any woman.
A throat clearing startles us, and we break apart, breathing hard as we look up to find Flynn looking down at us with amusement dancing in his eyes. “So it’s like that, is it?”
“What do you want?” I ask him, my tone harsh and filled with annoyance after he interrupted the most important kiss of my life.
“Flynn,” Natalie says from the front row of seats, “get back here and leave them alone.”
“I have a question for my attorney,” he says.
“Ask him later, or you’ll be sleeping alone this weekend.”
A swell of laughter goes through the cabin, becoming louder when he scurries back to his seat.
“He’s such a pain in the ass,” I mutter, noticing with satisfaction that Leah’s cheeks are bright red with embarrassment. “Now, where were we?” I lean in for more of the kisses I’ve become addicted to. We barely come up for air for the next half hour until the pilot announces we’re making our final descent into Napa. “We’re sharing a room this weekend,” I say, my lips rimming her ear. “The second we can break away from the others, I want you naked and kneeling in the middle of the bed, hands folded and head down. Any questions?”