Until Tom called Monday night.
I didn’t usually leap for the phone, but I answered this call before the second ring. Silence greeted me at first. Finally, “Hey, man.”
“Hey, Tom.”
“Uh, listen. Mom wants to know if you’ll be at dinner Thursday.”
I waited for the punch line, or at least the up yours. Neither came. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I said at last.
Tom sighed. “Dude, get your ass home, and come eat my mom’s turkey.”
We both chuckled, but he continued. “I wouldn’t call if I didn’t want you to be there. This is my apology. Don’t leave me hanging.”
Completely unprepared for this conversation, I drew in a breath. “I never meant to disrespect you.”
“I know.” He paused. “Mom wanted her to ask you about dinner. She…”
His tone was light, but it still punched my gut. “What?” I asked, too anxious to care about subtlety. “Hates me? Wishes I was dead?”
He breathed a laugh. “No. She’s scared you hate her. She doesn’t know if you want to talk to her, if you still…”
We both knew how that sentence ended. If I still love her. If I’d still swallow glass for a moment with her.
My shock wouldn’t shake. “If I hate her?”
“Mm-hmm.”
I fell backward on the bed, too stunned to bother with words. Tom wasn’t the one who needed them anyway, and he knew it.
He gave me a few moments to reel, then spoke again. “Come fix this. She’s miserable. Come make my sister light up again. I give you my fucking blessing.”
I chuckled, and it released a literal ton of tension. “What’s the plan?”
By the Wednesday wrap-up meeting, I vibrated with nerves so badly that adjusting my tie became a tic. My bouncing knee shook the table and exacerbated the covert glances from colleagues.
Luke Paris, my favorite colleague in the Chicago office, eyed me during a short break. “Jesus, Langer, did you overcaffeinate or what?”
I shoved a hand through my hair and thought twice about reaching for the carafe. “Must’ve,” I muttered. “Anxious about my flight, maybe.”
He hummed as we moseyed back to the table. “Chicago airports the day before Thanksgiving? Don’t blame you.”
“Do you have plans for the holiday?”
Paris cocked a brow. We’d hung out, grabbed drinks a few times, and even gone to a Blackhawks game together, but we knew nothing about each other’s personal lives. My attempt at civility gave away that there was a lot more on my mind than travel.
He had the decency to keep it cool. “No, I’m here in the city. I usually visit family at Christmas, and I’m… considering a little time off at the new year anyway.”
I could tell by his tone that he’d just given me something on him, too. I made a mental note to follow up—after I got my life straightened out, dammit.
As the rest of us settled in for the final leg of this meeting, Paris remained standing. “Okay, ladies and gentlemen, I’ll keep it brief.” He clicked to a new slide. “We ran three marketing campaigns for this launch. My team…”
Paris’s no-bullshit presentation was detailed enough to keep me focused and short enough that handshakes and farewells commenced a little earlier than expected. We nodded across the room before I all but raced to get a cab.
Delayed an hour. But just an hour, and for the day before Thanksgiving in one of the country’s biggest hubs, that’s not too bad. While I waited on my luggage to come off the carousel at BNA, I looked around at people hugging their loved ones. If not for Tom’s call, I wouldn’t have noticed. Suddenly, I was really, really glad to be home. Just sleeping in my bed again would be fantastic.
Sleeping in my bed with Liv Milani would be even better.
As I eased my car onto I-40 in the purple dusk, I tapped the Bluetooth and commanded Siri to call Tom. He answered right away, so I said, “Hey, I’m in the car. Are we on for the Five Spot?”
His voice came through the speakers, muffled and hushed. “Change in plans.”
My stomach clenched, but he laughed.
“Come to the house instead, and hurry. Liv’s got ideas of her own. Big surprise, right?”
The line went dead. I gunned the accelerator and whipped to the far left lane, fingers flexed on the steering wheel.
The twenty-minute drive took exactly twelve.
My palms began to sweat when their house came in sight. I parked at the curb and all but sprinted up the walk. Her bedroom light boxed me into a yellow square as I knocked softly at the door. Fitting. Liv always had been the brightest light in my life. Somehow, through all the years and all her phases—even when she did little more than roll her eyes at me—she always was the person who could push my shadows away.
Tom clicked the lock quietly, but stealth didn’t matter. Muffled but loud music hit me as soon as the door cracked open. He pulled me in for a hug/back-clap that said we were cool, then waved me inside. Maddie colored on the floor, her pink suitcase acting as a table. She lit up when she saw me. Tom rushed to kneel, his finger to his lips. She instantly mimed him, so I did, too. Before I got too cozy at this scene, the blaring music sank into my brain.
Fuck me. It was “Cover Me Up.” I’d wondered if she’d listened, if she’d realized that those lyrics spoke to how I felt for her.
Tom rose to give me an update, so I forced my attention to him.
“She was emotional after work today. The kids threw a surprise party to welcome her back. She went upstairs, then reappeared with that look on her face that says watch out.”
I had to laugh.
“I stuck to the plan, suggested we go to the bar, but she gave a flat no. She’d decided to—are you ready for this?—drive to Chicago tonight.”
“You’re kidding.”
Tom rolled his eyes. “You think I’d make it up? This was about an hour ago. I stalled all I could. Got her to talk it out, look up the weather, check oil… I finally resorted to discussing whether I should take Mads to stay with me at Erin’s tonight just to slow her down, but she’s been up there about half an hour, blasting music and packing. I thought I might need to blow the whole thing to stop her.”
I scrubbed my face with both hands and blew out a hard breath. Good thing I’d run so much lately. My heart might not have handled all this otherwise.
Her bedroom door opened, and the music got louder. We both jolted hard.
“Tom? Are you about to go to Erin’s?”
“We’re on our way out, sis. You?”
“Getting my toothbrush and peeing, then I’m ready. I’ll call you from the road, okay? Love you, brother!” The bathroom door slammed.
Tom and I traded another holy shit look, but then he clapped my shoulder and went to pick up Maddie. “This is your scene. Good luck. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I respected the way he looked me in the eye to say that. “Thank you, Tom.” For much more than the good luck.
Alone in the living room, I looked around as my blood began to thunder. I sank onto the recliner. The vision of her on my lap flashed.
Focus. We need to talk. I’ll ask her… tell her… shit. How did you walk into this with no plan?
I raked my hair again. I had no strategy, no game. Never did when it came to Liv. Broken thoughts and points to make drifted through my head.
Every one of them scattered when I heard her footsteps on the stairs.
She thumped down two while I sat frozen in the chair, but then her feet retreated. A second later, the music died. The bedroom door shut as I leapt up and knocked my knee on the coffee table.
Her feet came into view. “Tommy? I thought you left. Erin will—”
My gaze swept over her once, twice, and then again while she stumbled to the bottom step and clutched the banister. She wore black leggings and tank top under a long white jacket made of the softest-looking wool I’d ever seen. A matching white beanie sat on her head. Her dark bangs peeked out by her tem
ple. The red and purple welts that had broken my heart in the hospital were mere shadows on her cheeks. Only someone who looked for them would notice.
She was so herself, strong and yet adorably stunned. The sight of her gripped me with a powerful thirst. It took an enormous amount of restraint not to leap the couch and haul her into my arms.
Wait, asshole.
I’d lost the right to push her. She’d asked me to do one simple thing, and I’d failed. All those runs along the water had trained me to brace for the cold that I absolutely deserved. I didn’t get to hold her, not unless there was no doubt she wanted me to.
Wait.
But then again, wasn’t that bag on her shoulder a clear indicator of what she wanted? The music meant a hell of a lot, too.
“Will?” Her voice trembled over my name.
Fuck waiting.
Liv startled when I vaulted the couch and crossed the floor in two strides. Her hand flew to her mouth, but the second my arm cinched around her back, rose-red lips—no lipstick tonight—appeared again. I dropped my head on the same wave of momentum, dimly registering that her face had already turned up.
Liv Milani’s kiss destroyed me every time. Her lips softened as she inhaled, and then her tongue—a tongue that did things to me most men only dreamed about—found mine. Then her sweet-hot flavor, like honey with a kick of cayenne, flooded my system and turned me into a junkie.
Every. Single. Time.
A month without this fix had me out of my mind from withdrawal. Liv whimpered and clutched my hair when I bent her backward and drank her deep. She went limp in my arms, spine arched and body so tight to me that my knees shook. I groaned, and she whimpered again.
Thump.
Her bag hit the floor as she fisted my shirt and pulled, feet scrabbling to stand upright.
Bump.
My shoulder knocked the wall when I turned to lean on it. I spread my legs to fit her hips against mine. Her hat met my touch when I reached blindly for her hair, so I pinched the soft yarn and flicked it away, sliding my fingers to the base of her scalp and down—
My eyes opened, hands abruptly empty. Liv withdrew, confused by my confusion.
All I could do was stare.
Those long, sexy locks—including the pink dye—were chopped to a sleek style that layered away from her face and barely touched her shoulders. Her big, dark eyes glittered with the rosy glow on her cheeks. Her plumped lips parted over heavy breaths.
My perfect, electric girl.
Liv fingered her hair but kept one hand wrapped around my arm. “Megs cut it Monday,” she whispered, and I realized I’d yet to speak a word. “What do you think?”
“Perfect,” seemed to be the best way to break the silence. I stroked her cheek, and her blush deepened. “Always perfect, Olivia.”
She fidgeted, eyes darting side to side. “What are you doing here, Langer?”
I smirked. “What are you doing with that bag, Milani?”
Her gaze locked on mine, wide and guilty, but she returned my smirk. “Megan invited me to spend the night.”
I laughed and pulled her against me again. “Bullshit.”
Liv’s pupils dilated as my lips grazed hers.
“Kiss me,” I said, somewhere between a command and a plea.
But she pushed my chest, and the well of pain in her eyes twisted my heart. “One more time?”
“Never,” I vowed.
38
Liv
Ohgodohgodohgod…
My thoughts were haywire as I kissed Will. I begged him to stay, to understand, to never stop, all without saying a word.
Five minutes ago, I’d buzzed with anxious energy, ready to get on the road, face the music, and figure out where we stood. Now, if I stood on this very spot until I died, I’d be good.
When you hold me, my heart bursts. My words from this summer, back to haunt me. Final detonation began when he jumped the couch. Between our kiss and the sweet power of his embrace, my poor heart had atomized at last.
My heart. Over the years, I’d done a good job of protecting it. Sure, it had some dings and scratches, but That Girl had to learn not to give herself away. People called me sharp and bold, but that was how it had to be. It was how That Girl survived. Guy stopped calling? Fuck him. Another girl came along, and Mr. No-Commitment suddenly settled down? Good luck with that, buddy. My mouth had gotten me in trouble a few times, but it kept me going, too. Repeat I don’t care enough, whether it’s about relationships or dreams or anything, and eventually you don’t.
Will Langer made That Girl break Rule #1. He hadn’t dared me, hadn’t even asked for it. But again and again over so many perfect moments, I had completely, totally, given him my whole heart.
I would never, ever be the same. And I was terrified.
I tore away with a hard shove to Will’s chest. “It doesn’t get to be this easy. There’s no way it’s this easy. Why are you even here? That bag is there because I was going to drive to see you tonight. It doesn’t work that you just appear and all’s well.”
“While I’m curious how you’d have worked out the logistics of driving through the night, finding my hotel, and then somehow obtaining my room number, I thought this might be simpler.”
“Damn you, that’s not the point,” I grumbled, although those were indeed valid points.
“I know.” The amusement was gone from his voice. Will sighed and leaned on the wall. “I’m here thanks to Tom, but that doesn’t mean I have the first clue how this goes. I let you down, Liv. The one thing, the one thing, you asked me not to do, and I let you down worse than anyone ever could. I can’t ask for your trust anymore, and I don’t know what you—”
“What are you talking about?”
Will fisted his hair and slid to the floor, eyes bright with more emotion than I’d ever seen from him. “I let you down. I fucked up with Tom, and then that party bullshit. I didn’t go, by the way.”
“I know.”
“If not for all that, I’d have been there when you needed me most.”
Megan’s story came back to me. “But you were there. Why?”
“Because you called and broke up with me. I could tell by your voice that you were out of it, so I came to make sure you were okay.” He hung his head. “When I saw Ben carrying you… You’ll never know how much I hate myself for not protecting you.”
His voice splintered and cracked, and the space in my chest where my heart used to be constricted.
I threw myself to my knees and held his face. “Don’t. Don’t do that. You didn’t let me down. You showed me what I could be. Take what I want, right? I thought of that, and I did. I fought him, Will, because you taught me to believe in myself. You pushed me to be strong, to know what I want. You didn’t have to be there to be there for me.”
“Oh, Liv.” Red-rimmed eyes searched mine. He groaned and reached for me, but I recoiled.
“Don’t do that, either.” A hateful laugh raked my throat. “I broke up with you? God, I fucking knew I’d ruin this. You should’ve been glad for the out.”
Will sat on his knees and caught my shoulders. “Stop. You know I—”
“I’m in love with you, Will.”
He smiled. And my heart reassembled itself for the sole purpose of shattering again.
“It’s about time,” he murmured.
“It’s not. It was always true. Always.” I shut my eyes and shuddered. “Damn you, Will Langer. Don’t smile like it’s a good thing. I love you too much, you jerk. You’ve fucked me. Don’t you get it?”
“Hmm. I assume you’re speaking metaphorically, not literally.”
I bit my lip to keep the scowl going. “Hush, this is serious. You should’ve taken the out when I called. You should’ve moved on and left me to figure out how the hell I’ll survive when you… when you…”
“When I find my BMW-driving, martini-drinking wife?”
I groaned and sank my nails into his biceps. Tears blurred my vision, so the first time
I saw his lips twitch, I thought I imagined it. But then he cleared his throat.
I startled. “Are you laughing?”
“Of course not,” he rumbled—
Just before he completely lost it.
Tears were forgotten. I slapped his shoulder while he chuckled merrily. “You dick! Deep, dark fears are being shared here. Heartfelt confessions and shit are going down, and you’re laughing? A bit of decorum, please, douchebag.”
I shoved him, but Will was helpless with humor like I’d never seen him before.
“You better stop hitting me,” he rumbled at last. “Before it’s my turn.”
His eyes sparkled when they locked on mine. Knowing full well what I was doing, I punched his arm. It had been minutes since he’d touched me.
Far too long.
Will rumbled a sound somewhere between a laugh and a growl. He launched forward and tumbled me backward to the ground. Knees by my hips, hands by my ears, his scent flooded my nose and all the dark spaces in my soul.
With his lips against mine, Will murmured, “There will be no BMWs. No suits. No Stacy or June. There will be La Perla in my apartment if and only if they belong to you. There will be you, Olivia Milani, or there will be no one. It’s that easy. What do I have to do for you to believe me?”
I gripped his collar. “I love you, Will Langer.”
His sigh pressed against my chest. “I love you, Liv Milani. I’ve loved you since always.”
The wink he added nearly dissolved my underwear, but I nodded slowly. “I know.”
“Oh, yeah? How do you know?”
I shrugged. “I just know it—here.” I pressed his heart, and mine began to piece itself together again at last.
His kiss was soft and gentle and only half of what I’d hoped for, but it said everything.
Will lifted his head. We both looked around, seeming to realize at the same moment that we were sprawled on the floor between the living room and the foyer. His eyes swept left, mine right, before we locked gazes again, matching smirks on our lips.
Nemesis Page 25
