Boy in Luv

by Jay Crownover

  “It’s better for everyone if you don’t show up again. Langley is slowly healing; she has a lot lined up in the next few weeks as she plans for her future. She doesn’t need to be distracted, or tormented, by you.” He sighed and lifted a hand to stroke his beard. “Just leave her alone.”

  I’d planned on doing that very thing…until I saw her. As soon as I caught sight of her glimmering, golden hair, and her genuine, joyful smile, I knew there was no way I could pretend I wasn’t still hung up on the girl who would always be way out of my league.

  Grunting in response, I shifted around the competition, carefully maneuvering my way to the stairs. It’d be much harder to try and win Langley back if I was laid up in the hospital with a bunch of broken bones.

  “I don’t think I can do that, bud.” I wasn’t about to become a stalker, but I knew the pain in my heart, the ache filling my chest, wouldn’t stop throbbing unless I tried my best to right all the wrongs I’d tossed in Langley’s lap. “I walked away once, and it was the stupidest decision I ever made.”

  The bearded guy shook his shaggy head and sighed heavily. “She’s never going to give you another chance to break her heart.”

  I shrugged and turned my back on him. “That’s okay.”

  I didn’t need a chance to break it. I’d already been there and done that. I needed a second chance so she could hopefully forgive me and give me a shot to undo all the damage I’d done. She might never let herself love me again because she felt the risk was too high. I deserved that, I really did. But, I couldn’t shake the feeling I needed to do my best, to do something in order to smooth over some of the jagged pieces I’d left behind when I forcibly ripped myself out of her life.

  Maybe if I could show her I was a good guy who made a bad choice, we could both start over. I had a feeling her forgiveness would be the thing that set us both free.

  “You’ll have to go through me to get to her.” It was an obvious warning, but instead of making me mad, the harsh words were reassuring. The guy obviously cared about Langley a lot. And while I hated he got to touch her, kiss her, hold her, when she wouldn’t even let me get close, I appreciated that he was willing to stand between her and whatever—or whoever—was trying to hurt her. She deserved nothing less.

  I shot a loose wave over my shoulder to indicate I heard the challenge clearly, then proceeded to jog down the steps. By the time I hit the parking lot, a good chunk of my buzz was gone and my fuzzy mind was starting to work a little quicker. Langley told me to back off, and I had to respect her wishes. I was actually pretty proud of her for speaking her mind, instead of hiding behind the icy politeness she used when dealing with someone in the wrong from her very-privileged life.

  Somewhere along the line she’d learned how to advocate for herself, and I owed it to her to respect the boundaries she’d put in place. That didn’t mean I was ready to turn tail and give up. No, I’d just have to be more careful about how I tried to get a foot in the door she’d firmly shut in my face.

  My Uber driver was an older guy who immediately pegged me as a soldier. The short ride was filled with him asking me all about the current state of the military and grilling me on my thoughts about the political climate we were currently serving in. I tried to keep my answers short and sweet since I was in no shape to carry my half of the debate. By the time I got to my apartment, I was exhausted and felt turned inside out.

  Gael was stretched out on the couch, watching reruns of Bob’s Burgers. He immediately turned the TV off and got to his feet when I stumbled in the door.

  “I was wondering if I was going to have to come bail you out of jail since you were gone for so long. Then I wondered if maybe you and Langley made up.” He cocked his head to the side and frowned. “I can tell by your frown that the latter was just wishful thinking.”

  I shrugged and stomped to the kitchen so I could fish another beer out of the fridge.

  “She told me to get lost. Then the guy she’s seeing let me know, without question, that he’s willing to do whatever it takes to keep her…and keep me away from her.” I sighed and rolled the cool can against my forehead. “She was scared of me.” My voice faded out on a whisper as Gael watched me with concern clear in his gaze.

  “So, what are you going to do now? Is this it?” He sounded as disappointed as I felt.

  Slowly, I shook my head. “No. This is just the beginning.” I cracked open the beer and took a giant swig. I dragged the back of my hand across my mouth and lifted my eyebrows. “Now, I get creative and try to win her over without crowding her.”

  I was going to have to try and woo her in the way she was used to. I was going to have to play by a bunch of rules I didn’t really understand. Getting her to give me another chance meant putting my pride and ego aside, and doing whatever it took to get her to look at me the way she did when we first met.

  Like I was her hero.

  Like I was the only one who deserved her real smile and sweet kisses.

  She believed I hated the world where she came from, and she wasn’t wrong. If I wanted her forever, I was going to have to learn to make peace with all our obvious differences. I was going to have to show her I was making an effort to meet her halfway so we weren’t existing in her world or mine. We needed a place in the middle that was just the two of us…our own little world where we could finally be happy.

  My baby brother reached out a hand and clapped it on my shoulder. “So, what’s the plan?”

  I snorted. “Haven’t figured that out yet.” I didn’t have the first clue how to woo anyone, let alone someone who was used to the very best.

  Gael squeezed my shoulder and gave me a lopsided grin. “Good thing I’m pretty much a genius. I’ll help you out.”

  I snorted out a surprised laugh. “Oh, yeah?”

  Gael nodded, face going solemn. “You deserve to be happy, and that girl makes you happy.”

  She did. She also made me hurt, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. It made sense that love had to be painful sometimes, or else we wouldn’t be able to feel it. We would slowly forget it was there. The pain was a good reminder of what happened when love wasn’t taken care of and taken for granted.

  I really wanted Langley to forgive me for leaving and for being less than honest with her, but I wondered if I could ever forgive myself for making her hurt the same way I was hurting now.

  Langley

  I laid back on my couch and wiggled to get comfortable. Then I opened up Netflix and scanned through the millions of hours of programming I’d been too busy to watch over the last four years.

  Today was the first day in my memory that I didn’t have something to study for. There was no summer reading list from professors. No lurking deadline for a research paper. No notes to pour over or schedule to plan. I was totally free until I moved for my new job, and now I had zero idea what to do with myself.

  I’d already gone for a run. Already showered. Breakfast was made and cleaned up. Chocolate chip cookies were warm on the plate, and popcorn was buttered and salty in the bowl. And I still couldn’t relax. I switched positions for the hundredth time, and kept scrolling.

  Romantic comedy? Nope. It would just make me think of Iker, which I wasn’t about to let happen. Nope. Not thinking of Iker ever again, especially not after he’d shown up drunk and… Iker. Great, now I was using his name as an adjective. Awesome.

  Military drama? Way too much Iker. What had a nine-month deployment changed about him? Anything? I’d read tons about soldiers who came home completely different people than when they left, but that was usually due to trauma.

  Not sure what part of I broke this. Now, I’m going to be the one to fix it, stemmed from war, or alcohol, or regret, or just a desire to fuck with me because he knew he could.

  And you told him you’d loved him, you idiot.

  I groaned, letting my head fall back on the leather armrest.

  Wedding movies? What the hell was Netflix trying to do? Break my heart all over again? I kept
scrolling and paused on a horror flick.

  Screaming girls running through the woods from a masked serial killer? Bring it on. I flipped around again, wondering when the hell my couch had gotten so uncomfortable, and hit play on the first slasher flick that came up.

  Then I sat and waited for it to buffer, cursing the included-in-the-rent, slow Internet in my building.

  I could do with a good scare.

  Unlike last night, where the only thing I’d been afraid of had been Iker’s nearness. He took hold of my arm, and I’d been instantly desperate to get the hell away from him. That man touched me, and my brain stopped working, while the rest of me went into overdrive. If seeing him brought me to my knees, what would happen if he actually got his hands on me?

  The thought was completely, utterly terrifying. It had taken me months to rebuild myself when I crumbled after he left. Months until I could make it through most of the day without wondering how he was or if he was safe. What if he unraveled everything I’d struggled to recover with a single touch?

  That would be the real horror story.

  I flipped around again, then groaned in frustration. Having nothing on my agenda was supposed to be relaxing, refreshing, even. Instead, all it did was give me time to think about the one person I had no business thinking about.

  “Screw this.” I got off my couch and headed for my bedroom, only to pause when there was a knock at the door.

  I opened it as far as the security chain would allow, and immediately my jaw dropped.

  “Langley Vaughn?” the delivery guy asked, juggling an iPad and the most beautiful arrangement of calla lilies I’d ever seen.

  “Yes?” I answered.

  “Sign here, please.” He handed me the iPad and I signed the box with the attached stylus after unlocking and fully opening the door. Who on Earth would have sent me those?

  “Here you go. Have a nice day.” He thrust the square-vase bouquet into my hands and walked back down the hall.

  “Thank you!” I called after him, then shut my door with my hip. “Holy shit,” I muttered. There had to be two dozen calla lilies here. Whoever sent them had to have spent a small fortune. Dad, maybe? Definitely not Virginia.

  I set the lilies on the counter and plucked the small envelope from its clear, forked stand. My heart clenched as I read the note on the card.

  Langley,

  These reminded me of you—elegant, classy, and beautiful.

  I meant what I said last night.

  Iker

  I read the card twice, then put it on the counter, only to grab it and read it yet again. What he said last night? The part about fixing it? Which I assumed meant us. That wasn’t possible since there wasn’t an us to fix. Maybe he meant the part about being sorry? About needing to see me?

  I put the card down again. No. I wasn’t falling for this. I wasn’t softening because he sent some flowers. Flowers didn’t make up for leaving me in that hotel room with a note and a broken heart. Flowers didn’t make up for the highhanded way he’d simply decided I wouldn’t be allowed to wait for him.

  But those flowers...they were beautiful. Classic and understated, all the more exquisite for their simplicity. They were exactly what I would have picked for myself.

  This arrangement was also way out of his price range. This was probably a couple of hundred dollars sitting on my counter, and while they were stunning, he couldn’t afford to make gestures like this. That pressure in my chest was back, and I found myself running a finger down the petal.

  He shouldn’t have, and not just because I was pissed at him, but because they were too much. I didn’t need lilies—or even daisies. I’d never been impressed with lavish gifts because I’d grown up in a society where things like this beautiful bouquet were commonplace. But the very reason the flowers frustrated me was the same one that had my stupid heart fluttering.

  This wasn’t some afterthought by a Broadmoor frat boy.

  Iker had sacrificed for these.

  That was why I pulled out my phone and clicked on his name to open the text thread I hadn’t had the heart to delete nine months ago. I almost didn’t send a new message when the unanswered one from the day he deployed stared back at me mockingly. After an inner battle, my long-ingrained manners won out over my hurt feelings and uncertain heart.

  Langley: Thank you for the flowers. They’re truly breathtaking.

  I hit enter before I could think better of it, then watched the dots blink as he responded. This was a mistake, opening a line of communication, but I would have been the world’s biggest bitch not to thank him.

  Iker: I’m glad you like them. I meant it last night. I’m going to fix what I broke.

  I sat on my barstool, and stared at the gorgeous flowers that contrasted with the ugly way he’d left. That fluttering in my heart would only get stronger when it came to him. Hell, it had only taken me a week to fall head over heels for him the first time, and then he’d crushed me. What would happen this time if I let him in, gave him the chance to resurrect the heart he’d eviscerated? I wasn’t sure I’d ever recover.

  Langley: Please don’t. You need to stop.

  He left me on read for a hot minute, and I angrily decided I had to follow it up.

  Langley: I lost too much last time.

  The dots started jumping around as he was typing out a response.

  Iker: You weren’t the only one who lost.

  I sucked in a breath. His pain had been evident in that letter, but so had his unwillingness to try. I hadn’t been worth the effort of the two of us figuring things out together.

  I wasn’t worth that effort to anyone I’d ever been close to. Not here, at least. Maybe Texas would be different. I could start fresh and focus on myself.

  Langley: I wasn’t the one who walked out. Thank you again, the flowers are spectacular, and I know they must have cost you a fortune, but you can’t fix what doesn’t exist.

  Iker: Watch me.

  I spent the next day volunteering at my favorite no-kill animal shelter. There was zero point to sitting around binge-watching fourteen seasons of Grey’s Anatomy when I could be out helping someone who needed it.

  Besides, soothing someone else’s misery helped take the focus off my own. Sam had texted that morning, just to check in on me, and I hadn’t responded. Maybe it was because I was realizing I wasn’t nearly as invested as he was. Maybe it was because of the flowers Iker sent yesterday. Either way, I was going to have to make some choices. But not right now.

  I walked all the pups I could and snuck in some extra time with Einstein, a mutt with a shock of white hair and more personality than most people. He’d been at the shelter a week, and had won me over instantly.

  After ruffling his soft, fluffy fur one last time, I put him back in his kennel and tried to steel myself against his whines as I walked away. There were so many little souls here in need of homes.

  “Any nibbles on Einstein?” I asked the girl at the desk.

  “Not yet,” she answered, barely looking up from her screen. There was just so much to do and not many of us to share the load.

  I posted his pic on my Instagram before I left, and added his details, but most of the people who followed me weren’t the adoption type. They were the perfectly bred, AKC-certified, show-dog type.

  I’d just gotten home when the doorbell rang again.

  This time, the delivery girl had me sign on a piece of paper, and I had a sneaking suspicion who my benefactor was. I thanked her, shut the door, and opened the wide, flat box.

  Chocolate-dipped strawberries spelled out, “I’m sorry.”

  The note read:

  Langley,

  They’re almost as sweet as you taste.

  I’m never giving up.

  Iker

  “Ugh!” I groaned, slapping the card onto my counter. Then I ate one of the strawberries, but only because I was hungry, and they looked—holy shit, they were good. So good.

  Almost as decadent as kissing Iker had been.
Sweet and silky, passionate and abandoned, stealing my inhibitions and turning me into someone I didn’t recognize by simply placing zero expectations on me.

  I knew it was another mistake, but my mom would have raised a disappointed eyebrow if I didn’t say thank you.

  Langley: Thank you for the strawberries. They’re wonderful. Now stop.

  That was stern enough, right? This couldn’t go on. It just couldn’t.

  Iker: They reminded me of kissing you.

  I paused mid-bite, my lips wrapped around one of the berries. I somehow barely managed to chew and swallow around the lump that popped into my throat. A shiver danced down my spine. As different as we were, we’d always managed to be on the same wavelength. Sometimes he seemed to know exactly what I was thinking without me saying a word, or even being in the same room.

  Langley: The strawberries looked good, but they’re nothing compared to your mouth.

  Iker: The chocolate is the dark stuff, a little bitter, but it just brings out how sweet the strawberries really are. They complement each other. Like you and me.

  Oh God, now all I could think about was kissing him. I missed kissing him. Missed touching him. Laughing with him.

  Langley: You have to stop spending your money on me.

  Iker: No.

  Langley: It’s not getting you anywhere.

  Okay, that was a lie, because I sat there and watched those blinking dots like they were my lifeline.

  Iker: It got me this text message. Well worth any amount of money.

  I laughed, and shook my head.

  The next day, he sent a gift certificate to the Broadmoor Spa, with a note that told me if he couldn’t put his hands on me, then an expert should get the honor. Considering I’d spent three of my days with him at the Broadmoor, it was bittersweet, but I melted at the nod to the fact he wasn’t shying away from our past.

  I spent the next morning at the shelter, walking the pups and snuggling Einstein, and then I took advantage of that spa massage.

  I texted a picture of my fluffy slippers as I waited to be pampered.