by Aly Martinez
“Yeah, but we both know what you’re planning.”
After snagging a twenty out of my wallet for the delivery guy, I headed for the door. “You don’t know anything.”
“I know that you’re going to get your heart broken while trying to prove that the mysterious Jude Levitt isn’t really the dick who said you ruined his life.”
I barked a laugh. “Oh, but you couldn’t be more wrong. I’ve accepted that Jude Levitt is the dick who said I ruined his life.” Tucking my phone between my shoulder and my ear, I swung the front door open as I said, “I just want to figure out who the hell the guy who showed up at my apartment on Friday night was.”
“What guy?” Johnson asked, holding a huge stack of boxes filled with bagels and muffins.
I squeaked at the same time Brianna yelled in my ear, “Mayday! Mayday!”
My whole body flashed solid as I feigned ignorance. “What guy?”
He twisted his lips and eyed me suspiciously. “That’s what I asked. What guy showed up at your apartment on Friday?”
Uh oh.
I laughed nervously and changed the subject. “I hope you tipped the delivery guy.” I lifted the top of the box and saw that the coveted chocolate croissant was missing and presumably already in his stomach.
“What guy?” he repeated sternly.
“Tell him we were plotting a new book,” Brianna whispered in my ear as if Johnson had supersonic hearing.
And this was Johnson we were talking about, so he might have.
I swallowed hard and pulled my shit together. Waving him off, I lied, “We were just plotting. What are you doing here?”
Brianna again whispered as she urged, “Now, ask him about the threesome with Devon.”
I coughed to cover my laugh. “Bri, I need to go. I’ll call you back tonight.”
“You better. I need to hear all about—”
Thankfully, I managed to hit the end button before she’d gotten his name out.
Shaking my head, I avoided Johnson’s gaze. “What are you doing here? I didn’t know you were going to be back today.”
He ignored my question. “Listen, I don’t want you coming up this morning. Levitt’s in the office.”
Yes. But which one? The gentle guy who melted my insides on Friday night or the jerk from Saturday morning?
“Well, he does work there,” I smarted as I walked to the hall closet. Then I grabbed my puffy, pink coat and shrugged it on.
He stepped in front of me, blocking my way to the door, and stated definitively, “You’re not coming up.”
I fiddled with the zipper on my jacket. “When did it get so damn cold? I swear, last week, it was still shorts-and-flip-flops weather.”
“Rhion,” he snapped. “I have to leave in an hour. We can’t do the Jude thing this morning.”
No. An hour wouldn’t have been enough time to do his “Jude thing.” That being the one where I’d get nervous, ramble, and ultimately end up rushing back to hide in my apartment.
However, an hour was more than enough time for me to do my “Jude thing.” That being the one where I’d observe what he’s like sober and do a little detective work to decide who the hell he really is.
“Johnson,” I said in a patronizing tone. “I told you on the phone on Sunday I’m done stressing about Jude. He’s just a regular man.” With split personalities. “So what if we have a little, tiny smidge of a history together.” Where he saved my life and I’ve been obsessing about him for four years, meanwhile he thinks I ruined his life.
He shifted the pile of bakery boxes to balance on one of his bear-sized paws and then reached out to catch my arm.
I dodged him.
“Rhion,” he called behind me, but he was too late.
I was already out the door and heading to the elevator.
“Stop,” he growled.
“You know what? I haven’t worked out all week. I’m gonna take the stairs.”
“Rhion, fucking wait!” he ordered, fumbling with the boxes to get my door shut.
“See you upstairs,” I called right before the heavy, metal door of the emergency exit clicked behind me.
With the hurdle of getting past Johnson out of the way, I stopped at the first stair and sank to my ass. My nerves rolled and my lungs burned, the heavy burden of my life settling on my shoulders. I could do this though. What’s the worst he could say?
“His girlfriend back there ruined my life years ago.”
Oh, right.
But, the night before, it had been a murmured, “This is where you belong, Butterfly,” as he’d held me impossibly tight against his chest.
I tried to focus on that.
“It’s just Jude,” I breathed to myself and buried my face in my hands.
And then I flew to my feet when I heard, “April, do not start this shit with me,” snarled above me.
Oh God.
My heart lurched as the deep rumble of his voice echoed through the stairwell.
Turning to the side, I leaned back so I could see up to the landing at the top.
A navy suit covered his lanky frame, and a white dress shirt, sans a tie, showed through his unbuttoned jacket. His eyes were wrenched closed, and he was pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand while holding the phone to his ear with the other.
April? Is he married? Sweet Jesus, did I sexually assault a married man? Wait. He didn’t have a ring on. But maybe that is the “shit” she is starting with him. Does she know?
I kept watching him pace. And I’ll be damned if, even pissed off and possibly married, he wasn’t still gorgeous.
“Then drop her off with me,” he growled.
Her who? Does he have kids? Please, God, let it be a Pomeranian they share custody of.
Pause.
Pause.
Pause.
Grunt.
Boom.
“Then change your fucking ticket! You pulled her out of school for three days. The least you could do is let her spend time with me. She has no business going to New York, and I don’t give a single fuck who Kevin knows in the city. You aren’t leaving her to sit in a hotel with a stranger.”
Nope. Probably not a Pomeranian. Were there little, green-eyed babies being left in hotels with strangers? And who the hell is Kevin?
Pause.
Pause.
Pause.
He scoffed, “Pay for it?”
Pause.
Pause.
Pause.
Pay for what? my mind screamed. Thankfully, my mouth remained closed and I leaned even farther to the side to keep him in my sights.
Movement in front of me caught my attention. Johnson stood in the doorway, still holding half of a bakery display in his arms and sporting a scowl that could make grown men cower. It just made me roll my eyes.
Waving my hands frantically, I shooed him away. “Go!” I mouthed urgently.
He didn’t budge, but his glare turned worrisome. He leaned into the stairwell and lifted his gaze to the top.
Rising to my feet, I shoved at his shoulder and shot him a pair of impatient eyes. “Seriously, go!” I screamed without making a sound.
He knowingly shook his head but finally gave in and backed out.
Relieved, I caught the door so it didn’t slam and quietly guided it shut, and then I promptly went back to creeping.
“Swear to God, woman,” Jude rumbled. “Do you get alerts any time money lands in my bank account, or is it a natural talent?”
Pause.
Pause.
Huff.
“Yeah. Fine. Okay. I’ll pay. Send me the receipts and new itinerary.”
I couldn’t see him, but I assumed he’d ended the call because I heard a loud bang on the metal door as though he’d hit it and a roared, “Fuck!”
I jumped and stifled a squeak.
And then I jumped again, completely unable to stifle the squeak when I heard him ask, “What did you mean when you said, ‘It’s just Jude’?”
&nbs
p; Uh oh.
Maybe he was still on the phone.
Please, God, let him still be on the phone.
“Rhion,” he called.
I saw his feet start down the stairs.
Holy fillet of fuck. I scrambled toward the door, but I wasn’t fast enough for a pissed-off Jude Levitt, because no sooner than I’d pulled the door open, his hand went over my head and slammed it back shut.
Closing my eyes, I cursed under my breath. I was trapped, his tall body looming over me, the heat radiating off him sending a chill down my spine.
“It’s rude to eavesdrop,” he whispered.
My shiver intensified when I felt his warm breath at the top of my head.
I didn’t reply and instead scooted until my front was flush with the door. Unfortunately—er…I mean, fortunately—he didn’t follow me forward.
“What did you mean when you said, ‘It’s just Jude’?” he prompted.
It had always been just Jude.
Including when he’d unknowingly broken my heart on Saturday morning.
I kept my lips sealed and pushed off the metal door for fear he’d hear the drumming of my heart against it.
He kept me caged in. “So, we went from paragraphs to silence?” he murmured in that voice that held equal amounts of playfulness and raw sex.
It was the same one he’d used in my pantry when he’d asked me to forgive him, seconds before our mouths had crashed together.
The same one that, right then, forced the breathy, “Jude,” from my lips before I could stop it. Drunkenly, I swayed into him, his firm chest pressing against my back.
He lowered his head, the scruff of his jaw raking against my temple as he murmured, “It seems you’re shit at answering my questions, Rhion.”
I was shit at damn near everything with him that close to me. And that included forming full thoughts or complete sentences.
His hand lowered to my hip, where he gave me a squeeze before rocking me back against his hips.
Oh. My. God.
I’d tagged Rhion the moment she’d entered the stairwell. April was spewing an ungodly amount of bullshit in my ear, but as soon I leaned over the railing and spotted the red tips of her hair, I tuned April out.
Rhion was wearing a ridiculous pink bubble coat that made her look more like a teenager than twenty-six. But, thanks to my good friend Jack Daniel’s, I knew she was all woman underneath that silly jacket.
Flashes of Friday night assaulted me.
Her skilled tongue gliding with mine.
Her soft breasts pressed against my chest.
Her round ass filling my palms as I ground her against my cock.
And then, as I watched her bury her face in her hands and sink down to the step, I was assaulted by an onslaught of different memories.
Her pained jerk when I told her I didn’t remember.
The agony carved in her face when I told Devon that she’d ruined my life.
Her hollow eyes as she told me that her version of me was better. I still didn’t know what she’d meant by that. But it gutted me all the same.
As I stood there, staring down at her, debating if I should make my presence known or duck out into the breezeway and let her be, I heard her whisper, “It’s just Jude.”
The sound of my name rolling off her tongue hit my system like a lit match.
All week, she’d been on my mind. Rhion was in my head, under my skin, and—scariest of all—in my dreams. Not nightmares. Dreams.
Each morning when I’d climbed on that elevator, I’d stared at the button for the third floor, itching to press it. But I’d forced myself to stay away. I’d fucked up. And, in the process, hurt her. Again.
It was the story of my life when it came to Rhion.
If I’d been any kind of man at all, I’d have left her alone in that stairwell.
But, even after acknowledging that, I started down the stairs, heading straight for her when April’s voice in my ear had pulled me up short. She was taking Val out of school for a few days in order to take a last-minute trip to New York with Kevin. This meant Val wouldn’t be able to miss more school the following weekend when I’d planned to fly out for a four-day weekend. I had a sneaking suspicion this was done on purpose, considering I was now paying for April and Val’s flight with a layover in Chicago so she could drop her off with me.
I was fully aware that Rhion was listening to my conversation. After I’d made a royal ass out of myself in front of her, I was just happy she was still interested in me enough to care what I was talking about.
Rhion’s whispered, “It’s just Jude,” rang in my ears as I hurried April off the phone. I didn’t have a grand to spend on plane tickets. And, honestly, that weekend was inconvenient as hell, considering I was scheduled to work on Saturday. But, if it got me Val and off the phone with April so I could try to have a civil conversation with Rhion, it would be well worth it.
Only the moment I’d reached her and her back had pressed against my chest, a conversation with her was the last thing on my mind. And, when her ass in those tight jeans had become flush with my zipper, there had been nothing civil about what I wanted to do with her anymore.
“Can we talk?” I asked. Dropping my forearm to the door, I bent lower and dipped my mouth to her ear. “Please.”
“Jude,” she breathed.
I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, as if I could absorb the sound. Fuck. That felt almost as good as her body tucked against mine.
“All I need is five minutes, Rhion.”
“Can we do it without me pinned to a door?” she asked, but there was no attitude behind it.
I smiled because she wasn’t pinned to a door. She was pinned to me, and as she asked the question, she’d shifted closer.
“All you gotta do is ask me to move, sweetheart,” I rasped.
Her breathing sped as she seemingly weighed her options. After a few seconds, she whispered, “Just talk.”
My grin widened. She couldn’t deny the magnetism between us any more than I could.
“I was a dick,” I stated.
Her shoulders sagged as she blew a relieved sigh out. “You really were.”
“I’m sorry. I never should have shown up at your apartment, drunk like that.”
She craned her head back and peered up at me expectantly. “That wasn’t the part where you were a dick.”
I arched an eyebrow and shot her a pointed glare. “Maybe you should fill me in so I know what to apologize for.”
“Okay, maybe that was what you should apologize for,” she lied softly.
“You’re still taking the stance that nothing happened?” I leaned down until my lips were once again at her ear. “I know that isn’t true. Memories have a way of finding their way back over time.”
At least mine did. I’d been cursed with flashes of that night with Rhion all week. Some of them had been innocent. Most of them had not.
Her entire body jerked in a way that took her away from me. One sentence and the invisible ties that drew her to me became a brick wall dividing us. The loss hit me harder than I would have ever expected.
I wanted her back.
“Move,” she said, grabbing the handle before giving it a firm pull.
My forearm kept it sealed shut. “No,” I rumbled, giving her hip another squeeze in an effort to bring her back into me, but she didn’t budge. “I’m starting to remember what happened. But I need you to fill me in on why and how it happened, Rhion. You said we talked. Start with that.”
She moved all at once, her hand leaving the door, her torso twisting to the side, her knees bending, and her feet shuffling as she ducked under my arm.
I turned with her, but she backed away, moving up the steps.
“Why are you always runnin’ from me?” I bit out. With long strides, I advanced toward her.
She scrambled back, tripping when the heel of her shoe clipped the edge of a stair.
Hooking an arm around her waist, I caught her before she
fell and tugged her against me. Her soft curves molded around my hard planes, and a growl rumbled in my chest at how fucking right it felt. Sparks fired off in my veins, the likes of which I’d never felt with a woman before.
And they did this for Rhion fucking Park.
Christ. I needed to be institutionalized. The craziness at Guardian must have been contagious.
As I took the final steps up to the landing with her in my arms, her feet dangling off the floor, I ordered, “Talk to me.”
She shoved at my chest and squirmed in my arms, but it was all for show. There was no fight behind it.
“You said it was a mistake. Let’s just forget it ever happened,” she pleaded.
I shook my head and grumbled, “I tried for four years to forget about you, Rhion. It never happened. This isn’t gonna be any different.”
Her mouth fell open. “You never…”
I gentled my voice as I begged, “All I’m asking is for you to help me remember.”
“It was noth—”
“Don’t say nothing.” Sliding her down my front, I placed her back on her feet. Bending to keep our faces close, I backed her against the door.
Her breath caught when her shoulders hit the wall, or perhaps it was because my hand had slipped down to her ass.
“You opened your legs for me like you were welcoming me home,” I announced, using her ass to grind her against me. “You were fucking drenched, Rhion.”
Her lips parted as something between a gasp and a moan escaped in the sound of, “Uh oh.”
“Yeah, baby. I remember. Not all of it. But enough to know something happened—something huge and something I remember enjoying a fuckuvalot. And something I’d fucking kill to have happen again. But I still don’t know what started that something. So I’m gonna need you to open that sexy little mouth of yours and fill me in.”
That was in no way what I had planned to say to her when I finally got the chance to see her again. I should have been apologizing. But I couldn’t. Not with her that close, the smell of coconut filling my senses.
She once again became pliable, and a shy smile played at the side of her mouth. “You’d kill to have it happen again?”
Fuck. I would have. If being with her was even half as good as my drunken memories, I’d wage wars with innocent men to get her back there. No matter how fucked up and confusing it might have been.
