Lies Unspoken

by Lisa De Jong

  “That’s not true,” I whisper.

  He ignores it. “My turn. How did you come up with the design for the hotel? It’s fucking brilliant.”

  Shit. This one won’t give me the opportunity to drink. I need a drink. “I worked on it day and night. It was all I felt like I had left for a while.”

  “When did you and Pierce start fucking?”

  “Don’t call it that, Blake, and you already used your question, so let’s move on.”

  “I’ll drink, then you answer.” He squeezes the lime between his teeth then takes the shot.

  This is going to go down worse than the tequila. “The night I saw you in New York.”

  His face falls, but I try to ignore it. Sex isn’t something I take lightly. It’s not something I do for the sake of loneliness. There’s a reason I crossed that line with Pierce, and after I did, he meant even more to me. Blake was just a few hours too late.

  “My turn,” I say, trying to get my head back in the game. “Did you know I was going to be on this project before you signed on?”

  “It’s the only reason I took it. Wade’s an asshole.” Now, that’s a truth.

  “Did you think … I mean, were you hoping there would still be a chance for us when you took it?” My voice shakes. The answer is written all over his face, but I want to hear it. I want to hear that he came back for me so I know everything I went through the last few months wasn’t for nothing.

  “Drink,” he says. “That’s two questions.”

  I skip the lime, letting the tequila burn a trail down my throat.

  “Yes, and at the very least, I needed to find you and let you know how sorry I was. I never meant to hurt you, Lila. Ever.”

  “I know. After thinking about it, I get why you did it. You can’t move forward with your life when the past still has you chained down. I’ve been there … not nearly as bad as you, but I’ve been there.”

  He stares up at the ceiling for a few seconds before turning his attention back to me. “My turn. Do you think you’ll stay in Chicago or have you ever thought about going back home?”

  “Why are you asking that?”

  “It’s my turn to ask a question. That’s my question.”

  “The thought crossed my mind, but I like my job and the friends I have here. It feels kind of like home, but it didn’t always feel that way.” I reflect on Charlie’s and the people I met there all the way to where I am today. There’s been days filled with regret, but overall, I’m happy to be here.

  “You going to ask me a question, or do I have to drink another shot just to break the rules again?”

  I slide down into the bed, pulling the blanket over my shoulder. “The painting you did the other day … what was it?”

  He pours the tequila then glances over at me, downing it in one gulp. “There are some truths I can’t tell. You should know by now my truths are better categorized as secrets.”

  “But it had something to do with her?”

  He points to the bottle. I pour and drink.

  “Yes,” he answers. “Months of intensive counseling wasn’t even enough to sort through all my shit, but at least I’m not ignoring it.”

  I wish there were a star I could wish on to make his pain go away. Not even a wish on the largest constellation in the night sky could cure his heartache.

  “If I had come home sooner, would I have had a chance?” he asks, sinking down in the bed until we’re eye to eye. He knows he’s making it impossible for me to skirt around the truth.

  Eyes don’t easily lie to eyes.

  “Yes,” I whisper. “I waited for you. Until New York, it would have been you.”

  His fingers come up, gently brushing a piece of hair from my forehead. “I really fucked up with you, didn’t I?”

  “Neither of us was in the right place. It wasn’t our time.”

  He moves closer, brushing his thumb against my cheek. My conscience whispers but the tequila screams. “When will it be our time?”

  I think about Pierce. This weekend. Everything. “It may never come, or maybe, it’s already passed.”

  “I’m going to fight for you,” he declares, propping himself up on his elbow to look down at me. “I thought I could let you go if I knew it would make you happy, but after sitting alone in this apartment all weekend while you were with him, I don’t think I can do that.”

  I swallow hard. “And, if you don’t win?”

  “I’ve already lost, so what do I have left to lose?”

  And, he’s right. He’s already lost so much that the risk is minimal.

  “Pierce trusts me,” I blurt, my palms sweating against the sheets.

  He leans in, kissing my cheek. “He shouldn’t trust me, not when he has the one thing I want.”

  “Blake?”

  He slips out of my bed without looking back, carefully closing the bedroom door behind him. He wanted the last word, and he got it.

  NOT SURPRISINGLY, I OVERSLEEP. The alcohol should have made falling asleep easy last night, but instead I was left playing Blake’s words over and over.

  Just when you think things are good, you find out they’re not.

  I’ve already offered him more than I can give yet he wants more.

  I’ve asked him to leave, but then let him stay.

  I’ve tried to keep him at arms’ length but yet he keeps getting closer.

  Unless I get some sort of control, this is just going to keep getting harder.

  The thoughts keep coming as I ride to work. Every time things feel like they are falling into place, they unravel again. All I ever wanted was to be happy.

  Maybe happiness only exists in fairytales.

  I finally walk in the office two minutes after eight. I’m late for the first time in six months, and I don’t even care. Sometimes when life weighs you down, you simply stop caring.

  The elevator opens to my floor, and I step out in somewhat of a trance—a mix of tired, hung-over, and confused. Monday feels like Friday, and that’s never a good sign.

  A strong arm wraps around me from behind, pulling me back into a dark room. I’m ready to fight back, but his familiar scent tickles my nose, and I relax.

  “You’re late.” His breath hits the back of my neck.

  “I overslept. It won’t happen again.”

  His fingers curl against the fabric of my navy blue shift dress. “Does your new perfume have a hint of tequila in it?” he asks.

  “You don’t like it?” I ask, hiding from the truth.

  “Don’t fuck with me, Ms. Fields. Who did you drink with last night because it wasn’t me?”

  “Why do you have to be so smart?”

  “Lila.”

  I close my eyes tightly, praying for forgiveness in advance. “I may have had a few shots last night before bed.”

  He spins me around in his arms, and it’s only then that I realize he pulled us into a small conference room. He has me pressed against the wall, his arms framing my face. “I’ve never known a person to do shots alone.”

  Even with only the dim light showing through the partially open door, I can see his eyes. “I wasn’t alone.”

  He pushes against the door until it closes then frames me in again. There’s nowhere to run. No lies to tell. “I don’t want him there alone with you. Just thinking about it is making me sick.”

  I swallow my regret. I can’t do anything about what’s already been done.

  “Move in with me,” he says, his lips a whisper above mine. I answer the only way I can, standing on my tiptoes to press my lips on his. I want him to forget just as much as I need to stop thinking.

  He grips the back of my neck, deepening the kiss by pressing his tongue between my lips. I’m lost in him—swept away by the waves he creates from head to toe. I splay my hands on his stomach, feeling his taut muscles through his crisp dress shirt. I slide them up until my fingers meet behind his neck, curling into his hair.

  “I’m not a jealous man,” he breathes as his mouth
trails a path down my throat.

  “Okay,” I say softly, my body aching for his.

  “But you make me jealous.”

  I wrap my arms tightly around his neck. “I love you,” I whisper into his ear.

  He groans, lifting me until my legs are wrapped around his hips. My dress is short … it wouldn’t take much.

  The door clicks, but his lips stay on me. I open my mouth, but the light comes on, warning him before I can. He looks up but doesn’t move to put me down. My cheeks burn red when I see who’s standing there.

  “Sorry, Mr. Stanley,” Jane, the receptionist says, her own face turning a deep shade of red. “You asked me to bring Mr. Stone in here. I didn’t—”

  “It’s okay, Jane. I’ve got it from here,” Pierce interrupts. She wastes no time before disappearing around the corner. Not that I blame her.

  My face only burns hotter when I see Blake standing where she’d been. He’s not looking at Pierce … just me. The color drains from his face as he steps back, lowering his wounded eyes. I don’t want to watch, but I also can’t look away.

  My chest tightens as I loosen my grip on Pierce and fight to stand on my own two feet again. He lets me, but his body is still flush with mine.

  “Let me go,” I say, trying my best to make it so Blake doesn’t hear.

  He does, slowly, adjusting my skirt along the way. “Now he knows,” he whispers against my ear before pulling away.

  My eyes widen as I watch him take a seat at the conference room table. He looks back at me before turning his attention to Blake. There’s nothing I’d like to do more than disappear from this room, but I fear for each of their safety if I do.

  “Are you going to come sit down, Blake, or are we holding this meeting in the hallway?” Pierce asks, leaning back in his chair. For a second, he reminds me of Wade; I hate comparing the two.

  I glance over at Blake. He’s pondering, hands fisted at his side, eyes narrowed in on the man I was entangled with just minutes ago. A still frame of it could definitely go next to uncomfortable in the dictionary. “Did you call me here for a meeting, Stanley, or did you call me here to prove that you have bigger balls?”

  Pierce has a smug look on his face, but as he looks over at me, his expression softens instantly. If he thought this was going to be okay—that I was somehow going to not see through him—he was wrong. He didn’t just hurt Blake; he hurt me.

  His eyes shift back to Blake. “A meeting, of course. We just lost track of time.”

  Blake steps into the room, walking right past me to the side the table opposite Pierce. I watch—panicked—as he leans over the table. “I swear to God … if you are using her to get back at me, I will fucking kill you. She’s not a prize. She’s not a way to punish me, and so help me God, if you hurt her—”

  Pierce stands swiftly, leaning in until their faces are only about a foot apart. “I would never hurt her because I love her. Do you know what love is because I seriously doubt it.” My heart races, and I have no idea what to do to make this all stop. “And while we’re having our man to man, I’m going to warn you once to stay the fuck away from her outside of work. I was the one who picked up the pieces you left behind, and I’m not going to sit here and let you hurt her again.”

  “I was protecting her,” Blake says through gritted teeth.

  Pierce tilts his head, the look on his face absolutely murderous. “I forgot how good you are at protecting women.”

  Blake reaches across the table, grabbing Pierce’s collar, and I can’t take it anymore. “Stop! Just stop it right now, or I’m going to walk out of this room … out of this damn building. I’ve had it.” Tears threaten to spill. I feel weak … I hate feeling weak.

  Without another word, I walk straight out of the room, disappearing around the corner to the nearest restroom. It’s only when I’m there that I let the tears fall. I’m tired of everything. You think you have everything figured out, but you never really do.

  I pull a paper towel from the dispenser, letting all the scenarios play over in my head. The two of them could be engaged in an unsanctioned UFC fight for all I know. God knows neither one of them can stay quiet for too long.

  Pierce needs to realize Blake isn’t the reason she’s gone. I think he knows it deep down inside, but it’s easier for him to deal with if he has someone to blame.

  And Blake … he needs to come to grips with my relationship with Pierce. I wasn’t going to sit around and mourn the loss of what we had forever.

  I wipe the black streaks from my cheeks and run my fingers under my eyes before gathering the nerve to walk back into the conference room. I’m really starting to despise conference rooms.

  To my surprise, Pierce is the only one in the room. He sits with his back to me, head in his hands.

  As I walk up behind him, I let my heels click on the floor as to not scare him. I place my hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently because at the end of the day, I know his actions are sparked by his pain. “Pierce.”

  He looks up, eyes red and puffy. “I fucked up,” he says. “I won’t do it again.”

  I hold his face in my hands, rubbing my thumbs against his light stubble. “You’ll fuck up again because no one is perfect. Just don’t fuck up like that. Don’t you ever do that to me again.”

  He rests his forehead against my stomach. “I need you.”

  “You have me,” I say, running my fingers through his hair.

  “Only because he left.”

  I step back, taking away his veil. He looks up, and I swear he just ran through hell and back. He’s not the same man I met on the airplane months ago. “I’m with you because I want to be with you.”

  “Then move in with me.”

  Shaking my head, I say, “It’s too soon. We just started this, and I don’t want to ruin it by jumping in headfirst. It doesn’t mean I’m not committed to us.”

  He nods, pulling me back to him so he can rest his cheek against my stomach. “I’m an asshole.”

  I curl his hair around my fingers. “I thought we already defined that, and you didn’t fit into the category.”

  “There are many definitions. We’re all assholes from time to time.”

  “Believe it or not, I already figured that out.”

  He laughs. “There you go showing your brilliance again.”

  For a couple minutes, we stay just like that. Me wrapping his hair around my fingers. Him holding me as close as he can without hurting me. I wouldn’t accept his apology if I couldn’t feel it; it’s engraved deep in the center of my heart.

  “Where did Blake go?” I ask, breaking through the quietness that was mending us back together.

  “Home. You two can meet here whenever you need to, and I promise I’ll stay out of it. We both decided today isn’t the best day to start.”

  My fingers halt for a second then start again. “What made you decide to change your mind?”

  “This project is important to you, and you’ve worked hard on it. It’s obvious that having Blake and I in the same room isn’t going to move it along,” he starts. “And, I trust you. If this is what I have to do to prove that to you, I’ll do it.”

  I kneel in front of him, looking into his eyes. “Thank you.”

  He kisses me much the same way he had this morning, but this time, it’s just us. Our relationship has cracks, but it’s nothing a little effort can’t fix.

  When I can no longer feel my lips, he pulls away. “I’m giving you the rest of the day off.”

  “What?”

  “And I’m taking the rest of the day off, too.”

  I smile, thinking of all the possibilities. “What did you have in mind?”

  He grins like a child standing in front of an ice cream truck. “You’ll see.”

  Ten minutes later, we’re in the back of a black limo with heavily tinted windows. Not Pierce’s usual style, especially mid-day. “Where are we going?” I ask as soon as we pull away from the curb.

  He slips off our seat, k
neeling in front of me. “When we were in New York, the car ride wasn’t quite long enough.” He spreads my legs then runs his fingers up my thighs, taking my dress with them. “I want to do everything with you.”

  His thumbs brush against my core as I slowly slide toward the end of the seat—closer to him. He’s becoming really good at erasing my anger … erasing some of the fragments of bad memories. I feel my panties being pulled off my legs and close my eyes, letting him take me wherever he wants to go.

  He pulls my legs further apart. “Relax,” he instructs before burying his face between them. His tongue laps my sensitive skin, heating my entire body. It’s not even noon, and I’m having sex in the back of a limo; Chicago has definitely changed me.

  I breathe heavily, climbing higher with every stroke. I could fall apart now, but I don’t let myself, not yet. What he’s doing feels too good. I wish these moments lasted forever.

  With no more control left, I fall apart, quietly saying his name over and over. He doesn’t stop until I’ve said it more times in six minutes than I have in six months.

  “How do you feel now?” he asks, laying his head on my thigh.

  “Like nothing else matters.”

  He kisses the inside of my thigh. “And you forgive me?”

  “I did that before we even left the building. It’s hard to stay mad at you, Pierce Stanley.”

  He looks up. “And you’re not running this time. That’s another memory I can replace.”

  New York.

  “How much time do we have left in here?” I ask, biting down hard on my lower lip.

  “As long as we want.”

  “Kiss me.”

  And he does without hesitation, giving me a taste of where he’d been. I make quick work of his belt and zipper, slipping his pants and briefs down until he’s exposed. He’s more than ready.

  I scoot to the very end of the seat and pull his hips to mine, letting him slowly sink into me. He’s exactly what I need, I think to myself as he pushes into me over and over.

  If this is Pierce and Lila, I want to be them for the rest of my life.

  IT’S HALF PAST FOUR when the limo finally drops me off at my apartment. Sex was followed by a late lunch, which was followed by another round of sex. I guess we had a lot to make up for.