Nemesis

by Skye McDonald

  Cam’s face was a storm cloud, but I stepped off the stool and turned a tight smile up to Will. He took my bag and my hand, and we hit the door. We held each other tight, our strides long across the street and into his building. I didn’t even goggle at the sleek lobby, just power-walked with him to the elevator and watched him violently stab the 15th floor button.

  “Who the hell was that?” he grumbled on the ride up.

  “Never met him before.”

  Will snorted. “Bullshit. Can I look forward to creeps hitting on you whenever you’re out in public?”

  He led me down a hall to a door and stopped with a frown.

  I shrugged. “Does it matter? My big, strong boyfriend will scare them all away, right?”

  Will pressed his lips in a line. “I knew I’d catch hell for that,” he muttered. He squinted at me. “Go on, let me have it.”

  My fingers danced up his shirt. In my valley girl voice, I said, “What do you mean? Just because you, like, have a massive crush on me and you totally called me your GF, like out loud.”

  Will closed his eyes and leaned his head against the door, a little smile on his lips while I continued to tease.

  “’S okay, Will. I know you draw my name with hearts around it during meetings.” I bopped his nose.

  “Are you done?”

  “Yeah,” I said in my regular voice, and he opened his eyes.

  “I was glad you told him off. And if you want to call me your girlfriend, well,” I bit my lip, but heat flooded my face until I broke into a huge grin. “I’m definitely into it.”

  “It’s good to see that smile again,” he murmured, mostly to himself, but it made me cheese harder.

  Will’s smile deepened too while he cleared his throat. “Thank you for your generous permission. Perhaps you’d acquiesce to coming inside as well?”

  I waved a magnanimous hand, and he unlocked the door.

  “Damn,” I gasped at my first glimpse of his apartment.

  The kitchen and living room were one space, decorated tastefully in light gray and navy, with gorgeous tiled floors—masculine but elegant. A sectional couch sat against a wall with a huge TV mounted opposite, but straight ahead of me was a terrace with a sweeping view of downtown, city lights winking on in the evening dusk.

  Will hung back while I took a tour. I peeked into the bathroom to find brand-new, super sleek plumbing. The bath was a stone shower with track lighting on dimmers.

  Mood lighting for your shower? Damn, this place is a Pinterest board in real life.

  “You are a rich—”

  The words died on my lips when I glimpsed a bottle of champagne and vase of roses on the kitchen island. I must’ve missed them in my first view of the room. My eyes widened as I looked to Will and laid a hand on my heart. “Por moi?”

  “Oui. They were supposed to be a toast for passing your exam, but I figured they’d double as an apology for running late.”

  “Wow. That’s a serious boyfriend move.” I peered at the petals, mumbling under my breath.

  “What?”

  I shook my head at his question and sniffed the flowers.

  “No, what did you say?” he insisted, leaning beside me.

  I groaned. “If you must know, no one but my parents bought me flowers before. And no one ever bought me a bottle of champagne. So shut up, you romantic geek.”

  I didn’t expect him to frown. “Too corny? I know it’s a cliché. Figured I had a fifty-fifty chance that you’d tell me flowers were lame ‘AF,’ but I didn’t have time to be more original.”

  Will glanced at my wide eyes, and his expression lifted. “Oh, you meant you like them.”

  “I meant I love them.”

  God, he made my heart do weird things. How could it race, ache, and melt all at once? Couldn’t it just pick one for a second?

  His cheeks flushed, but he didn’t reach for me. “Excellent. Should I open the bottle?”

  “Uh, maybe I should wait for dinner. I already had a cocktail.”

  We ordered from a Greek place nearby. While Will placed the order, it occurred to me that he’d not really been home in a month. When he set his phone down, I cut him off before he could speak again. “Stop taking care of me. You just got home. You must be tired.”

  Will leaned against the granite counter. He loosened his tie, unbuttoned his sleeves, and cuffed them to his elbows. “First off, it’s no trouble and I like taking care of you. But, yeah, pretty tired. I had to go to the office once I’d landed. Thought it was a quick check-in but got caught up in a meeting. Jesus, this expansion is a pain in the ass. I mean, it’s like if something can go wrong—Oh, sorry. You don’t care about all that.” He chuckled at himself.

  I made a face. “How insulting. Of course I care. I just want to talk out there.” I pointed to the terrace, and so, with bourbon for him and water for me, we went outside.

  “Now, tell me everything,” I said while I looked out at the city.

  He told me a little about work, then asked about my week. I kept it brief and focused mostly on the huge triumph of crushing that exam. He lifted his glass for me, obviously proud, but it struck me how cautiously he navigated conversations like this. He seemed so unpracticed at it.

  I had to ask. “Why is it awkward to talk about work and stuff? Is it because it’s me?”

  Will shook his head quickly. “No. I’m not used to this kind of conversation with anybody. Who would I tell my day to? I don’t even have a cat.”

  I pictured his tidy, undecorated desk. Not even a single photograph. “Are you lonely?”

  He had to think about that. “I don’t think so. But I am alone.”

  “That doesn’t bother you? I couldn’t imagine.”

  “I know you couldn’t. Your life is full of people. I tell Tom how lucky you guys are with the family you have. I’m lucky to have them, too, but my life is… very different.”

  Now I pictured Will the first time we met. “Why? When I met you, you were alone. Where is your family, Will?”

  His gaze had softened and unfocused. “You remember when we met?”

  “Duh. I was in your dorm room.”

  The look in his eyes trickled to his smile. “Uh-huh. I remember, too.”

  “How I—”

  “Yep,” Will said just before he hauled me to him for a kiss.

  He was gentle at first, but when his thumb stroked my cheek, he exhaled, hard, and then the tidal wave was back on. We very likely would’ve given the Gulch a hell of a show if his phone and doorbell hadn’t rung all at once.

  “Dammit, so many interruptions,” he groaned as he broke away and went inside.

  I drifted to the kitchen. Will unpacked the takeout bag, but I stopped him with my hand on his arm. His bicep jumped under my touch as I took the cartons from his grasp and wrapped my arms around his waist.

  “I don’t want you to be lonely.”

  He hugged me back. “I appreciate that, but I’m not, I swear.”

  “I don’t want you to be alone, either.”

  Oh, when he smiles like that…

  His palm coasted from my shoulder down to the curve of my ass to pull me closer. Will ducked to find my lips. “I’m definitely not alone right now. But I’m touched that you’re concerned.”

  I shivered. “I’ve missed you this week, Will.”

  Our lips found each other again and again, each time with a little more urgency until finally, he broke away. “You should eat.”

  I started to protest, but he pinned me with a wicked look.

  “You’ll need your energy to withstand everything I plan to do to you. Once we start, we won’t stop.”

  “Well, that was the sexiest brush-off I’ve ever gotten. Fine. Hurry up and feed me then. Gah, you buy me some roses and you think you can call all the shots, huh?”

  “I’d never think that. I swear.” He laid a solemn hand on his heart, but we were both smiling as we took the food to the table.

  He didn’t pop the champagne.
He opened it carefully under a towel. Barely a hiss escaped when the cork twisted free. That, he explained while he poured, was how to preserve the bubbles. Given the way they exploded on my tongue when I sipped, I was all for preservation over presentation.

  When I was stuffed, Will topped off my glass and collected the food. He returned from the fridge and gazed down at me intently. “So,” he murmured.

  I stood up, my breath surprisingly shallow given that this was hardly our first time. Will held my waist, and I lay back on the table, ankles hooked around his back. His elbows landed by my ears.

  “Liv,” he breathed. “Oh, baby, you are all mine this weekend, okay?”

  I slid my fingers into his hair. “Only if you’re mine, too.”

  It was a night of crisp, cool sheets and hot kisses, of cold champagne in our mouths and silky roses and wet lips on our skin. It was a night of I missed you, and don’t stop, and yes, like that, and again. And, from that first kiss on the balcony on, it was electrifying and mind-blowing.

  It was us.

  25

  Liv

  Sunlight. A shower running. Black sheets that must be a billion-thread count. I blinked, briefly disoriented the next morning. My nose tickled with that lavender-and-pepper scent, and I grinned and snuggled deeper into the covers.

  God, my hips were stiff.

  I stumbled out of bed and dressed in a sports bra and yoga pants, stood firmly on the plush area rug that covered most of the room, and did a couple of sun salutations. The bedroom door clicked open, but Will didn’t disturb me.

  Ten minutes of stretches had me alert and rejuvenated, but my muscles tensed again when the doorbell chimed just as I finished. Breath held, I strained to hear Will open the door, his deep voice unintelligible from in here. Strange shuffling sounds and a couple soft thumps later, the apartment was silent again. I tiptoed to the door and peeked out.

  “No one’s here,” Will called.

  I couldn’t see him from my vantage point, so I stepped into the living room. Oh, boy, could I see him then. He strolled toward me in nothing but sweatpants. Damp hair curled against his temples, every muscle from his abs to those arms, dear god on display.

  “Good morning,” he said when all I could do was ogle him and try to keep the drool in my mouth.

  I dragged my gaze up his body, nice and slow, and finally met his eyes. “Hey.”

  Will cocked his brow and walked his stare over me in return. He slid his hand across my bare waist to pull me close. “Yoga?”

  No one had ever made that word sound so sexy. I nodded, on too much sensory overload to talk. He looked like a damn underwear model, he felt warm and powerful as always, and he smelled like a shower.

  Will stirred in his pants. “You keep looking at me like that, and I’m going to take you right back to bed.”

  “I see no problem there.”

  He grinned. “The milk might. Groceries just got delivered.”

  I followed his gaze to the boxes on the floor. “Damn milk. Always cock blocking me.”

  We laughed. With a kiss, he released me and went to a drawer for a box-cutter.

  “Can I have a shower?”

  He cocked his head. “What kind of question is that? Your towel is the white one on the bar. Use whatever you need.”

  “Including your toothbrush?”

  The line appeared between his brows. “Uh, I guess. If you need to.”

  I laughed, and he relaxed. “You don’t mind my mouth all over your body, but sharing a toothbrush is no bueno?”

  He shrugged. “Call it a quirk. But really, whatever you need is yours.”

  “I like that attitude, Langer.” I spun around and hurried to the bathroom to indulge in mood lighting and a spa of a shower.

  Clean and dressed in shorts and a tank top, I emerged to find him out on the terrace. He was slouched in a patio chair by a glass-top table, ankle on his knee while he read on his phone. Two coffee mugs, a carafe, and breakfast sat ready. My stomach nearly lurched out of my throat at the tempting spread, so I hurried over to take the empty seat.

  “Hungry?”

  “Starved.”

  He smirked. “I’d expect so after last night.”

  Croissants, fruit, jam, and cheese decorated the table. I took in the spread with wide eyes, but then wrinkled my nose. “Cheese for breakfast?”

  “So little faith, Liv. Have I led you astray yet?”

  I poked the tip of my tongue out in reply.

  He poured from the carafe into my mug. The coffee was so strong and dark that it barely resembled my morning brew. I picked a croissant, but while I reached for the milk, Will swiped the plate away from me.

  I whined but hushed fast when he smeared the soft cheese and some strawberry jam on top, then handed it back.

  “Aw, such a sweetheart.”

  “I hope you choke on it.”

  I laughed and almost did choke on the coffee in the process. “Damn you, Langer, don’t make me spill a drop of this magic. This is my new definition of coffee. God, why is it so much better than usual?”

  “French press brewed. You did make it clear you had good taste, so I’d expect you to appreciate it.”

  I took another drink and fidgeted in my chair. What the hell brought this question to mind, I couldn’t say. Once it was there, I had to get it out. “So, is this little setup de rigueur for your mornings-after?”

  Will coughed. “Are you jealous?”

  “Never. Why would I be jealous of some executive’s stilettoes under your bed, her La Perla panties on your sink?” I smirked, but he never did buy my facades.

  “How adorable. You are jealous.”

  “Shut up, William. I was kidding.”

  A corner of the pastry practically dissolved in a buttery cloud when I popped it in my mouth. The delicious distraction was welcome, so I took a proper bite at last. “Hot damn, this is delicious.”

  “And you doubted me on the cheese. Don’t deflect. You were not kidding, Olivia. What do you want to ask?”

  I shrugged. “What kind of women have been in your life before? You know a lot about my past—”

  “I don’t, actually. I only have a pretty strong impression based on our conversation in my office.”

  “Well… yeah.”

  “What makes you say yes to a relationship? Why did you say yes to me?”

  I crossed my arms in an X and made a buzzer noise. “Nope. I asked first.”

  Will’s smile faded. “Honestly? I usually prefer as casual as possible. I couldn’t tell you the last time I was in a relationship. Grad school, maybe? I’ve been building a career and just haven’t, I don’t know, met someone who I wanted to… commit to.”

  He gazed at me a moment while I ate. My insides throbbed with giddy pride that I tried to keep from my face, but, oh my god. “What about that Stacy chick? I’ve heard her name a lot.”

  “Stacy is my friend. We have sex sometimes. Well, we did. She’s an attorney, thus the connection to Erin, and has no time for a relationship, so she and I have worked out.” He stole the last piece of food off my plate.

  “You douche! Make me another.”

  “Make it yourself, nosey.”

  I started for the basket, but he swatted my hand away and built another creation, this time with fig jam. I batted my eyelashes when he set it on my plate, and he laughed.

  Between exaggerated yummy sounds, I said, “I still don’t get why you wouldn’t be interested in a commitment beyond a fuck buddy until me.”

  “Because it is you.”

  I wanted to press this, but the guarded look in his eyes told me I wouldn’t get far. “Fair enough. You want one of my secrets now, don’t you?” I puckered my lips.

  “Mm-hmm. I want to know the longest relationship you were ever in.”

  “Ben. Ten months.”

  “Besides him.”

  “High school, I guess. Dated a guy junior year. I’m not… I’m not one for long-term. I guess relationships usually run
about a two-month course on average. Probably why no one ever bought me roses before.”

  Will stirred his coffee. “Why short-term?”

  It’s easier. That way you don’t catch feels. That way it doesn’t hurt too bad when he says it’s not working out, that you’re too busy or bold or bitchy to be his girl for the long haul. Short term means you can just go back to being your badass self without wondering why you are the way you are. Why you’re the one who wants to say yes to every opportunity you discover. Why you’re the one who says what’s on her mind. Why that makes you some kind of weirdo who’s a good friend but a terrible girlfriend.

  … Yeah, probably shouldn’t tell the guy you’re dating all that, genius.

  I blinked out of my reverie and shrugged. “There’s no good answer. It’s not ideal, and I guess I don’t have a lot of confidence in men as a result, but whatever.”

  “If it’s whatever, then why our agreement?”

  That question had an easy answer. “Because I’m tired of whatever. I’d like for what I do—not just relationships, but everything suddenly—to matter more than it has. To be worth more, if that makes sense.”

  Will spoke slowly. “And so… you would say that this is ‘worth more’?”

  I dropped my gaze. My voice was soft. “Yeah. It sure as hell feels like it.”

  “Wow. I guess you were right.”

  “About what?”

  “You do have good taste.”

  My head snapped up. Will’s teasing smirk made me yelp just before I dissolved into giddy laughter. “You smug jerk,” I giggled as I rose and pulled him to his feet.

  “Your words, my dear. Your words.” He wrapped his arms around me. Immediately our laughter was muted by a kiss.

  “We have plans today,” he muttered when I kissed across his jaw.

  “Damn right.”

  Will chuckled. “No, I meant plans outside.”

  “Ugh, fine.” I touched my nose to his.

  Will blinked, then grinned, and I laughed.

  “I like silly Will Langer,” I finally got to tell him.

  “I love how you make me silly.” Will skimmed his hands down my back and sighed. “Fuck, and I love how you feel against me, Liv.”