Miles Apart

by A. L. Brooks

  Table of Contents

  Other Books by A.L. Brooks

  Acknowledgements

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  About A.L. Brooks

  Other Books from Ylva Publishing

  Coming from Ylva Publishing

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  about new and upcoming releases.

  www.ylva-publishing.com

  Other Books by

  A.L. Brooks

  The Club

  Dark Horse

  Acknowledgements

  As always, thanks to the wonderfulness that is Ylva Publishing. You’re a dream to work with and your professionalism and support only make me want to try harder with every book I write. In particular, big shout-outs to Astrid, Daniela, Jo, Gill McKnight, and Andrea Bramhall.

  To my beta readers, Katja, Erin, and Emma, your comments and insight were invaluable and kept me on the true path of this story, for which I am eternally grateful.

  To Glendon, for a wonderful cover.

  And to my “technical advisors”: my Canadian friends/colleagues who helped ensure any references I make to life in Montreal are as accurate as possible. Any mistakes in that respect are purely mine. All bars, restaurants, and offices mentioned in the book are purely fictional.

  Lastly, and by no means leastly, to my own long-distance love, Tanja, for her daily encouragement and support, and everything she does that makes me feel incredibly lucky that she is in my life.

  Dedication

  For the Lesvos crew

  Chapter 1

  Justine smiled widely as the woman—she’d forgotten her name already—draped over her from behind. The music was pumping and her latest conquest was thrusting her hips against Justine’s in time to the beat. Her body responded in all the right ways and Justine glanced at her watch.

  Yeah, this was a good time to leave.

  Justine turned to face her. Anna! That was her name. Thank God.

  “Anna,” she said, bending to speak directly in her ear. “Shall we get out of here?”

  Anna beamed and nodded, her dark hair bouncing.

  Justine smiled and grabbed her hand.

  Anna lived only a ten minutes’ drive away. Justine didn’t let on that her place was closer—tonight she was happier going elsewhere for whatever was about to follow.

  Anna fumbled with her door keys when Justine snaked up behind her on the step and nuzzled her neck.

  “Oh,” Anna murmured when Justine’s hands slipped under Anna’s thick coat and squeezed her ass.

  Justine laughed and let go. “Go on, get that door unlocked.”

  Anna did as she was told and Justine followed her into the apartment. She barely gave it a glance; she wasn’t here for a tour of Anna’s home. Just her bedroom.

  Justine grabbed Anna and pulled her roughly to her, kissing her fiercely. Her last assignation was a couple of weeks ago, and she was hungry for the release she knew was on its way. Anna moaned and held on tight as Justine plundered her mouth.

  Their hands scrabbled at each other’s coats and scarves and pulled them away, dropping them on the floor at their feet.

  As Justine moved her mouth to the softness of Anna’s neck, she let her hands roam. She pulled Anna’s T-shirt out from her pants, and there it was—warm, soft skin. Just what she wanted.

  “Oh,” Anna whispered. “I love your hands on me.”

  Justine smiled against her neck and continued her explorations, running her hands up Anna’s ribs to the underside of her bra.

  Anna pushed against her, her own hands digging into Justine’s back. “I knew you would feel like this,” she said, offering yet more of her neck to Justine’s lips. “That connection we had on the dance floor was just too special to ignore.”

  Justine hesitated ever so slightly. What was she talking about?

  Anna pulled back as Justine’s lips stopped moving. “You felt it too, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah. Sure,” Justine said, nudging Anna with her hips. “Bedroom?”

  “This way.”

  Anna grinned. Grabbing Justine’s hand, she tugged her down the hallway and into a large bedroom. Turning to face Justine, she pulled her T-shirt off, then her bra.

  Justine’s mouth watered. “Beautiful,” she murmured, taking her time to admire the full breasts, their nipples hardening as she gazed at them.

  “All for you, baby,” Anna murmured.

  Justine lunged forwards, briefly kissing Anna again as her hands cupped those bountiful breasts, then dipping her head so she could lick one of Anna’s firm nipples. Anna ran her fingers through Justine’s curly hair, tightening their grip against her scalp the more Justine’s lips nibbled and sucked.

  “You and I are going to be amazing. I can just feel it.” Anna’s words made their way through the desire-induced fog in Justine’s brain, and she raised her head.

  Anna looked down at her. “Don’t stop,” she said, pushing herself towards Justine’s mouth. “We’ve got so much to share, and it all starts here.”

  Anna’s words were like ice-cold water being thrown in her face. Justine stood and stared at Anna, who tilted her head, her eyes narrowing.

  “What are you talking about?” Justine took a small step backwards.

  Anna smiled. “Us,” she said, reaching for Justine and pouting when Justine pulled back. “Come on, you feel it too. You know you do.”

  Oh, holy shit.

  Justine took another step back. Her arousal had disappeared entirely. Now all she could think about was getting out of this as fast as possible.

  “Look, I think we’ve got a little problem here,” she began, and flinched as Anna’s face crumpled. She exhaled. Oh crap, this was going to be…difficult. “I think you want more from this than I do. So I think I should just go.”

  Anna stared at her, and her expression moved to one of hurt anger. “You mean, you just wanted me for one night?”

  Scratching idly at the back of her neck, Justine tried not to laugh. She wasn’t normally a callous person, but maybe that was the only way she’d get Anna to understand.

  “Well, yeah. That’s always all I’m after.”

  She watched the words hit home and hated herself, more than a little, for causing pain to another person. She’d never had this kind of thing happen before. Normally whomever she picked up wanted exactly the same thing: no strings, one night of fun, thanks and goodbye in the morning.

  Anna started to cry.

  “I’m going to go,” Justine said, backing away.

  “Yes, I think you should.” Anna’s tone was icy and Justine didn’t waste any more time. She left the bedroom, retrieved her
coat from the floor, and yanked open the front door.

  “You bitch!” Anna screamed as Justine stepped back out into the cold air.

  She wanted to retort, to defend herself. No, actually, I’m a nice person who just read the signals wrong. Much like you. But she knew there was no point.

  As she pulled the door closed behind her, she heard a loud thump against it. If she had to guess, she’d say Anna had just thrown a boot at it. She shook her head as she walked down the steps to street level.

  How had she got that one so wrong? She was normally so good at this.

  She huffed out a breath as she set off for the main road. She’d give herself five minutes to find a cab before calling Lyft. Montreal’s winter was already creeping in and she really didn’t want to walk home if she could avoid it.

  What a disaster the night had turned out to be. This life—one-night stands and going home alone—was the only life she’d been able to stomach since Nadia had taken her world away eighteen months ago. God, was it that long? Sometimes, like now, it seemed it was only yesterday. At least she got out and about these days, and two or three times a month found a warm body to enjoy. But lately it had seemed…empty. Meaningless.

  Maybe her heart was finally starting to heal and make room for something that did have meaning.

  Justine’s phone rang just as she stepped out of the shower. She knew who was calling, and she laughed as she strode across the bedroom to answer the call before it went to voice mail.

  “Bonsoir, Christina. I know, I’m very late.”

  Justine was notorious for running late to everything. It always surprised her, as she usually thought she’d timed everything right. But, invariably, she was the last one into the room at meetings, always a few minutes late for appointments, and never on time to meet up with Christina and Sylvie.

  Christina snorted with laughter. “Of course you are! But how close are you?”

  “Um,” Justine said, looking down at her still-damp body and running her fingers through her wet hair. “If I tell you about twenty minutes, will you believe me?”

  “Pah, we’ll see you in forty, then. We’re going to order some starters. We can’t wait that long.” Christina sounded grumpy, as she always did when kept from her food too long. She was one of those annoying women who was stick-thin but could eat like a horse.

  “Go ahead. I’ll be as fast as I can, promise.” Justine chuckled as Christina snorted again, then abruptly ended the call.

  Towelling herself off, she pondered what to wear. It was cold out, the temperature having dropped further since the start of the week. They’d even forecast a light snow. So that meant layers, at least. As long as the base layer was something tight, and sexy, and—

  She stopped herself. Tonight was supposed to be just about seeing Christina and Sylvie—no extracurricular activities.

  She finished drying her hair, pushing her blonde curls around until they fell into the messy just-out-of-bed look she liked to sport outside of work, and looked back at the closet again. Tonight she was just meeting friends for food and wine. No picking up a woman and going home with her. She needed a break from that, needed to regroup. Especially after what had happened on Monday. She shuddered.

  She smiled to herself—Christina would be delighted to hear that Justine might be on her road to reform. Christina was her closest friend and had watched Justine’s descent into a series of lacklustre one-night stands with open disdain. She would be very happy to hear that Justine felt a need to put a stop to that, even if only temporarily.

  So tonight called for jeans and a T-shirt, nothing fancy. Having decided, she dressed, adding a warm sweater, a little jewellery, and pulling on her favourite soft brown leather boots. Grabbing her scarf and jacket along with her wallet, she headed out of the apartment and strode down the street. She only had a ten-minute walk to the bar where she was meeting them.

  The one good thing that came out of Nadia ending their relationship was that it forced Justine into moving home. She’d listened to Christina’s advice and put herself in the heart of the Gay Village, surrounding herself with a community where she could feel completely herself. Not stuck out on the outskirts of the city in the executive home the status-hungry Nadia had insisted they live in when they got serious about their relationship. As Justine walked down Rue Sainte-Catherine Est, she shook her head, wondering, with hindsight, how she had managed to live in that soulless place for over four years. She’d hated it. She smiled ruefully to herself. The things you do for love.

  She trotted up the steps of Gabrielle’s and pushed open the door. Spotting Christina and Sylvie straight away, she strolled over, laughing at Christina’s glare as her friend tapped the watch on her wrist.

  “Sorry,” she said, leaning down to kiss each of them on both cheeks, then shedding her jacket and pulling out the third chair to sit down. She reached for the wine bottle and poured herself a glass, taking a long swallow before sitting back and smiling at them. Christina was dressed in her trademark all black—T-shirt and dressy pants. Her long dark hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail with a few strands hanging down either side of her face, framing her bright red glasses, her only nod to the colour palette. Some might have called her look severe, but Justine always thought it exuded a sexy classiness. Sylvie, in contrast, was dressed in one of her multicoloured short dresses, her chestnut-brown hair piled up in a loose bun with multiple wild strands falling in all directions around her head. She was a petite woman, with an elfin face. She was a few years older than Justine and Christina’s thirty-eight, and most definitely wiser than the pair of them put together. Despite appearing to be so very different from their outward appearances, she and Christina worked brilliantly as a partnership and had been together for over eight years.

  “You look…different,” Christina said, tipping her head to one side and staring at Justine as if examining a painting in a gallery.

  “Different how?”

  “Not physically. Something in your demeanour. Something intangible. You seem more relaxed somehow.”

  Frighteningly perceptive was a phrase Justine had often used to describe Christina, and she wasn’t letting Justine down now.

  “Very good,” she murmured, nodding. “One of the reasons I was late was because I was having a little think about my…lifestyle over the last couple of years.”

  “Oh, please tell me this is good news,” Christina cried, grabbing Justine’s arm dramatically, making Sylvie roll her eyes and Justine laugh.

  “You will be happy, I think. Given what a disaster my last conquest was, I’ve decided to cool things off for a while.”

  “How long is ‘a while’?” Sylvie asked, smirking, her eyes expressing her disbelief in Justine’s commitment to her declaration.

  “I can’t put a number on it. And, before you get all excited, I don’t know if that means I want to start looking for something more meaningful, or if I just want a break. I’m just going to see how I go, and make sure my nights out are not only focused on getting laid.”

  “Well, it’s a start,” Christina drawled, and Justine smiled at her.

  “What brought this on?” Sylvie asked, reaching across the table to steal a piece of calamari from the plate in front of Christina, who growled jokingly at the thievery.

  Justine shrugged. “I guess I’ve not been happy for a while but just couldn’t break out of the routine of it. It’s just too easy to do, you know that.”

  Christina and Sylvie would know there was no arrogance in her statement; it was just a simple truth. Justine was an attractive, sexy woman. Her blonde curls and pale blue eyes coupled with her lithe body ensured that women were drawn to her on an alarmingly regular basis. She had used this to her advantage for some time now, but she knew both her friends had known for all that time that it never really fulfilled her, no matter what she said. And while
she laughed about each conquest afterwards, it was hollow laughter.

  “Well,” Sylvie said, patting Justine’s hand where it rested on the table, “I am glad you are here with us tonight, so let’s eat and catch up on everything else.”

  Justine smiled, grateful for Sylvie’s tact in changing the direction of their conversation.

  “So,” Christina said, leaning in close, “did you hear about Lucile and that butch she picked up last week?”

  Justine laughed and relaxed into the evening as Christina launched into a gossip fest.

  They parted company a couple of hours—and a couple of bottles of wine—later. Justine didn’t linger in her walk home in the cold November air, passing the short journey thinking about the evening. She acknowledged it was the most relaxed she’d felt in a while. She also recalled she hadn’t once scoped the room, and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d spent a whole evening out without at least one eye on potential bedmates.

  Maybe there was hope for her yet.

  Chapter 2

  The text from Terri made Alex’s blood boil—heat of a most unpleasant kind rippled through her skin, her heart rate accelerating along with it.

  Sorry. Deal taking longer than we thought. Won’t make counselling. Don’t wait up.

  Before she could filter it, her anger had her swiping open the message and pressing the Call Back icon. She didn’t actually know what she’d do if Terri answered or not, but she didn’t have to wait long to find out.

  “Hey,” Terri said, her voice way cheerier than Alex wanted to hear. She wanted remorse and discomfort, and the lack of both in her partner’s tone had her free hand clutching painfully at the edge of her desk.

  “Seriously, Terri? This is the third time you’ve cancelled counselling. What am I supposed to do now?” She managed to keep the volume of her voice low, but her words were clipped and spat from between her lips.