Tell Me To Stay

by Winters, Willow

  It’s gone quickly, but it was there.

  “Madox is in there,” I point out and wonder if they’ll lie to get me inside. “I don’t… I haven’t…” I don’t bother finishing, since every start to the sentence leaves me feeling childish.

  “It’s been a long time,” Ryan says after a while and then shoves his hands in his jacket pockets. “We don’t have to invite him over for drinks,” he offers, as if Madox ever asked for an invitation.

  “Come on Soph, don’t do us like that. We miss you,” Brett tells me and opens the door a little wider. “I promise you the drinks are good and the first one’s on me.”

  I could never turn down Brett. It was weird seeing him the first time at Trish’s in San Francisco, but only until he hugged me. He’s a guy who’s hard not to love.

  “Just one drink?” Ryan asks in his charming puppy-dog voice he knows gets me every time and I cave. The two of them are too damn sweet and too damn cute to say no to. And I owe them. I owe them both more than I can ever repay them.

  “Just one.” They both cheer and wrap an arm around me, ushering me in the second I agree. As though I’ll change my mind and bolt if they don’t get me to the bar as quick as they can.

  I know Madox is going to find out I’m here in T-minus five seconds. If by some miracle he doesn’t see me tonight, then they’ll tell him. Deep in my gut, I know I’m kidding myself to think he’s not going to be right at the bar beside me in just a moment.

  I brace myself for the inevitable.

  As I follow Brett and Ryan, smiling and laughing as they head to the bar and announce to the bartender their good friend is back in town, I think, what the fuck happened to keeping the past in the past?

  Chapter 3

  Madox

  Seven years ago

  “So you and Sophie?” Ryan asks me and I look him up and down as he stands in the doorway. I don’t know what to tell him, or the other guys… It just happened.

  “I didn’t think you’d go for it,” he adds when I don’t answer him right away.

  “Why’s that?” I ask him and he tilts his head to the left, as if to say, ‘you already know.’

  “Yeah,” I tell him, thinking about how we hooked up last night and the night before and how much I wanted her this morning, even knowing I shouldn’t have touched her in the first place. “Me and Sophie.”

  “You know what people will say, right?” he asks and that’s when I tell him to fuck off.

  Today

  Long days at the office.

  Long nights at this bar. My bar.

  I’ve spent a lot of nights sitting back and wondering what she’d think about it.

  Which is why this moment doesn’t feel real. I’m only a shot and one beer in; I don’t even feel a buzz. However, for a split second, I question whether or not I’m just seeing what I want to see.

  I only got up to check on the bartenders and the inventory. Standing at the far end, I see the one girl I’ve been waiting to see for so long.

  “Whiskey,” I order the second I see Samantha, one of the waitresses, walking by me, headed to the back. My eyes don’t move to her to see if she’s heard me or not. I can’t rip them away from the girl at the bar.

  Two and a half years I shoved myself into this project, making each piece perfect, specifically designed for her. When it was over, that pause in time where I wasn’t constantly busy with things that needed to be handled imminently, that pause in time would have killed me if it weren’t for the men I’d like to kill right now.

  It’s difficult to keep a calm expression while accepting the tumbler of whiskey from Samantha with a tight smile.

  I wouldn’t have seen them if I’d stayed in the pool room. I try to remember how long they’ve been out here, but my mind is fucked.

  My pace drags slowly as I stop at the end of the bar, staring down my best friends. I’ve thought of seeing Sophie again so many fucking times. Never once did I imagine Brett and Ryan would be chatting with her in my own damn bar when the moment came.

  Ryan’s too close to her. After he slips off his jacket, he places his hand on her shoulder and they both laugh. My eyes narrow as I watch, and my fists clench involuntarily.

  My gaze lingers on the curve of her neck and the way she shivers when he takes his hand away from her bare skin. She’s mine. At one time, she was nothing but mine.

  There’s a hint of a blush on her cheeks as they lean against the bar. He always liked her; all of my friends did. At least Brett isn’t hovering over her. I could still punch the grin off his face right now, though.

  Checking my phone, I make sure they didn’t send a message that she was here. They didn’t. She’s right here, and they didn’t tell me.

  An agonizing mix of emotions stirs inside of me. Questions ricochet in my head and they don’t stop.

  When did she get here? Why is she at the bar with them? Were either of them going to tell me? The jealousy that creeps up on me, making my hands tingle when they form white-knuckled fists as Ryan clinks his glass with Sophie’s, is unreasonable. He’d never go for her.

  I know Ryan, and I know Sophie. He’d never do that shit to me and neither would Sophie. But maybe he knew she’d be here? If any of us would have known, it would be Brett. His sister tells him everything, but he would have told me. The anger rises as I question why no one told me. How fucking long has she been in New York?

  It doesn’t matter; none of the questions barreling through my mind matter either. I’m already striding toward them, hearing her sweet laugh ring in my ears before I can even think straight.

  I’ve built this bar from scratch and been in here a million times, but it’s never felt so small, so tight, so damn suffocating.

  A new song with a slow beat starts up, and it makes the sound of my shoes thudding on the floor seem that much louder. That much more foreboding.

  Brett spots me first of the three of them. The second his eyes reach mine, he grabs his drink and leaves, nodding at me with a knowing grin.

  My pulse quickens, but I control it all, forcing myself to calm down as I move to her left, since Ryan’s on her right. She looks so damn small between the two of us. She’s always been a short little thing.

  With a soft smile still flirting on her lips, she peeks over her shoulder to see who’s invading her space just as I’m dragging the stool back, getting it the hell away from me. Everything needs to get the fuck back.

  She’s here. The whole goddamn world needs to pause until I know why, how long she’s staying, and how I can keep her this time. I’m not letting her go.

  Her gaze catches mine and her breathing noticeably hitches. I see it. I see her chest rise, and I can hear her swallow.

  Her lips part, and the glass in her hand nearly falls as she tries to set it back on the bar. Her eyes and both of her hands move to the drink and as her attention shifts to it, I give Ryan a nod. A nod that says, get the fuck away, I’ve got her now.

  His asymmetric smile and the way he slaps the bar and barely gives Sophie a goodbye before taking off behind us tells me everything I need to know.

  “Glad you’re back, Soph,” Ryan says evenly and keeps my gaze, letting his smile grow as he heads back to the pool room to join Brett and Cody.

  He always said she would come back, that eventually she’d return. He kept me from chasing her all the way across the country. They all did. Any other time, they would have told me to go to her.

  The last time was different, though. I didn’t know what happened. I had no fucking clue until it was too late. They told me to give her time, and I did.

  The pang in my chest doesn’t go unnoticed, but I can’t focus on it. All I can do is watch Sophie, observe her and figure out what her next move is.

  I’m not letting her run this time. So she’d better think of something else.

  Sophie spins all the way around on her seat, her eyes going wide as she watches Ryan’s back and realizes she’s all alone with me. Her throat tightens as she swallows and
the color drains from her face.

  Good.

  She licks her bottom lip, keeping her gaze down before she peeks back up at me.

  Her lips part, but no words come.

  It takes a beat, a tick of a clock, a crackle of the fire before she relaxes even the slightest.

  A nervous laugh escapes from her lips and she slowly takes her seat again, slipping her slender fingers around the thin stem of her glass.

  Instantly the air turns easier, hotter.

  For a moment, a short moment while Ryan was here, it felt easy. It felt like I had her back already. But in this second, it all slips away.

  Shifting my weight to my left and then right, getting comfortable where I am and giving her a moment, I lean forward on the bar. My chin rests on my knuckles, my thumb brushing against my bottom lip as I stare her down. Her blue eyes are deep enough to get lost in, but she’s the one who looks like she’s drowning. It only lasts for a moment until her confidence comes back. But I saw it. I know I did.

  “You’re back?” I question her.

  The roaring fire behind her highlights every inch of her expression when she nods, not saying a word, not even looking at me and instead lifting the pink drink to her lips.

  I can hear the glass hit the bar top and every other fucking noise in this place until she brings those doe eyes to mine and says, “Yeah, I’m back.”

  I have to control every inch of my expression so I don’t reveal a damn thing. She can’t tell that I’m getting hotter by the second, and my cock is getting harder.

  “For how long?” I ask, and my voice is even and calm, not giving anything away. My nerves prick up my spine, every impulse I have pushing me to slam my lips against hers.

  I remember something Ryan told me once.

  She doesn’t leave you when she knows she’s yours.

  It took me a long fucking time to really get what he meant. When I finally realized how true those words were, it was too late.

  Her eyes drop to her cocktail before they meet my gaze again and she answers, “I got a job here… I think I’m staying.”

  Before I can say anything, she cuts me off. “Can I ask you something?”

  Giving her a nod, I stare into her beautiful eyes, riddled with pain I need to erase.

  “Are you angry at me? Brett and Ryan…” she breathes out deeply, looking away and pushing the hair out of her face before adding, “they said you wouldn’t be angry or upset if you saw me, but I… I know we didn’t leave things off… in a friendly way.”

  “I’m feeling a lot right now, but neither of those things. I missed you, Soph.”

  I hold her gaze for as long as I can, making sure she feels it. This well of emotion I feel inside of me. “I’m not angry,” I add and stop myself from telling her that I’m hurting. I’ve been hurting since the day she left.

  “You need a place to crash?” I ask her, changing the subject as quickly as I can, and she lets out a small laugh at my question.

  Pushing her hair back, she lets a sweet smile play at her lips and says, “Sorry, Ryan bought us shots and I think mine’s hitting me now.”

  The air shifts between us. It’s easier, less tense, and I fucking love it.

  “I don’t need a place to crash… I finally got one of those, you know?” Her voice is even, but there’s a hint of the playfulness she used to give me back then. In the very beginning of it all. Back to a place I wish we could go.

  “I heard you were staying with Brett’s sister, but I didn’t know about New York?” I don’t know how my voice is so level. How everything is so calm on the surface.

  She hesitates, as if she doesn’t want to tell me. I know she isn’t with someone else. I’ll fucking kill Brett if she is. He told me he’d let me know. Trish tells him every single thing. My expression must’ve slipped because when Sophie looks up at me she shakes her head slightly, answering my unspoken question.

  She’s quick to place her small hand over mine, comforting me. She always did that. Even if she didn’t do it on purpose, it’s just a piece of who she is. Having just that little touch makes me miss her even more. Even though she’s right here. I still need her to be mine again.

  Electricity flows through me and it takes everything in me not to flip my hand over and keep her skin next to mine when she takes her hand away, telling me she got a dream job and they’re paying for her place.

  “SoHo too,” she adds, and then shrugs. “It’s a little fancy, but I just have to add my touches to it.” I can hear the pride in her voice.

  She’s staying in SoHo. Some of the tension leaves my body. She’s in a safe area, and she’s back for good.

  “Like this place. It’s all fancy and chic in this area, but I like it.”

  “You like the bar?” I ask her as I roll up the sleeves of my button-down shirt. My forearms flex as I tuck the cuff links into my pocket and then order us a round. Whiskey for me, and another of what she’s drinking for her.

  Sophie nods sheepishly, her confidence slipping as the drinks land in front of us.

  “You look good in this bar,” I tell her, holding her gaze and watching how she can’t help but to smile. When her teeth sink into her bottom lip, I know I’ve gotten to her, at least a little.

  “So do you, in your suit and all. A little better than my hoodie, don’t you think?”

  “You can wear whatever you want... or nothing at all.”

  She laughs as I sip my whiskey. “I think the owners might have a problem with that.”

  My cock is stiff as I imagine her lying on this bar right now. Naked and bared to me in the late night with the doors locked. New York never sleeps, but I’d kick everyone out and let them fade away on the streets as I fucked her right here, watching her hair spread across the bar as she screamed out my name with every thrust.

  “I wouldn’t mind it,” I tell her, not hiding the desire in my voice. She’d do it too. The old her would do it, strip down right here. As long as I turned the lights off. We’d still be able to see the lit streets behind us, but they wouldn’t be able to see all the way back here. I’d fuck her hard enough for them to hear her though.

  “You’re bad,” she tells me, but that flirtatious smile is still there. That tension between us rises higher and higher as we slip back into old habits.

  “So are you.”

  Her mouth drops open in disbelief, and she has no fucking clue what it does to me. “I am not,” she says defensively, but she doesn’t realize she’s scooting closer.

  “You like it, that makes you worse.” Her smile widens to a full-blown grin, but she merely licks her lower lip and doesn’t respond.

  I tease her even more and say, “Maybe just bad for me? Is that it?”

  Her fingers toy with the rim of her glass. “You are so bad.”

  “Tell me you love it.” I give her the command, but I’d beg her to admit it to me. So I’ll know I’m not the only one of us that’s crazy for what we had. What we can have tonight.

  “I won’t lie,” she says and shrugs. “I love it.”

  “Say it.”

  “I love how dirty you are.” The blush that creeps into her cheeks makes her look so innocent.

  “Only for you.” The words leave me, and her sexy grin slips as my heart pounds and I turn to the alcohol.

  “To your new job and your new place,” I say as I lift up my shot glass and wait for her to respond.

  “You just want to get me drunk so you can fuck me.”

  “I’ll be fucking you either way, Soph.” The comment comes from me without hesitation. I bite my tongue to keep from telling her that I’ll be punishing her too. She’s fucking mine.

  “Is that what you think?” she asks me teasingly, although there’s a hint of worry woven in. “You buy me a drink and you get to fuck me again?”

  Tension crackles between us. She’s thinking too much. Just let it be, Sophie. Let it be.

  “I think you wouldn’t be flirting with me like this if you didn’t miss me.�
�� I hesitate to tell her everything else, but I let some of it slip as I add, “I think you know how much I’ve missed you. I think you missed me too.”

  “Maybe,” she answers quietly, her fingers still playing with the stem of her glass.

  “Let’s get out of here then. Or maybe I can clear out the bar, and we can be alone for a minute.”

  She huffs in disbelief, “Of course you would think to clear out the bar.” With a roll of her eyes, she takes another sip of her drink.

  “It’s my bar, so I can do what I want with it.” Instead of looking impressed, she glances at me and then drops her gaze to the glass in her hand.

  “Congratulations,” she says, but she’s quiet and then she visibly swallows.

  The lack of excitement is obvious. “I forgot how …” she trails off and lets out a long breath rather than finishing her thought, then simply shakes her head. “I’m sorry, Madox. I’m really happy for you. You’re doing great and this place is really beautiful.”

  “Why do you look like I just insulted you?”

  “Does Trisha know you own this place?” she asks me and that’s when it hits me that she was going to avoid me.

  “Brett knows,” I answer her and she nods slightly and then looks past me at the pool room.

  “I’ve got to go,” she tells me in a single breath; I can practically hear her heart racing now. My hand catches her hip as she slips off the barstool, trying to get around me.

  “No, you don’t. Don’t run from me.”

  “Don’t tell me what to do,” she snaps back loud enough for two people to focus their attention on us. My grip slowly lifts from her to my tumbler, although my gaze doesn’t wander from hers. I’ve never known how far to push with her. It’s always too much or too little and she’s full of fireworks, ready to go off with the slightest provocation.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I haven’t slept and I wasn’t expecting this. I’m--”

  “Caught off guard?” I question her. When she nods I tell her, “I wasn’t expecting it either. I wasn’t expecting you to leave in the middle of the night three years ago, either.”