Love on Hold

by Mia Miller

  Eighteen

  “I Want to Kiss You.”

  LEONIE

  TDL: Bummed you aren’t here after all.

  That had been the text he’d sent an hour ago, and the text that has spurred me into action. I got off the bus and was running toward the Oak Creek pool party. I got some strange looks since I was wearing four-inch heels, but that had been my attire since freshman year of college. My feet were immune to the pain.

  Thump-thump.

  Thump-thump.

  I could hear my own heart in my ears. I could feel it in my throat, threatening to come out of my mouth. I wanted this guy. This guy, who had been mine in a very intimate manner for two months, and whose voice gave me goose bumps all over my body even though I had no idea what his face looked like.

  It wasn’t until I saw that picture that I realized how incredibly stupid I was being.

  “Pssst! Pssssst! Amaya!”

  I hid behind a huge plant in the Oak Creek complex garden. My friend finally heard me and stopped dancing, her eyes going wide when she saw my face. Well, my camouflaged face. I had every intention of doing a smoky eye and dark lips, but when I sat in Amaya’s bathroom, I found myself reaching for her face paint instead.

  The result looked almost nothing like hers, and I ended up as more of a scantily clad skeleton than a classy sugar skull. I’d gone crazy with the white background and black stitch marks on the mouth, and had made my eye hollows brown, which made my real peepers even bigger.

  “How do I look?” I kept whispering when she approached, pointing toward my face.

  “You went a bit overboard, didn’t you?”

  She smudged around the lines I had drawn on top of a completely white mask.

  “I was in a hurry!”

  “Why are we whispering in the middle of a loud party?” She lowered her voice.

  “They say hushed voices can’t be recognized.”

  “That still doesn’t explain your camouflage. He’s never even seen you.”

  “Doesn’t matter. After tonight, I’m not sure I want him to see me. Would you know who I was if you’d only seen this version of me?”

  “Absolutely freaking not. And, for what it’s worth, he totally rejected the nurse. I watched him do it.”

  After some hushed encouragement from Amaya, I made my way toward the pool, hoping he’d still be there. I had no idea what to do. My heart was racing, my stomach was in knots, and my palms were sweating.

  I saw the chaise longue, and his hand on the drink he was nursing.

  He was alone in a sea of people and clearly texting. If he was texting me, I’d find out only later, as I’d left my phone at home.

  Bending, I put my lips near his ear.

  “Hey, Bruce,” I purred.

  If he was startled, he didn’t show it. Just turned his face toward to assess me. His eyes, which were so green they made my breath catch, did a slow sweep of my body. I felt his look cut straight into my depths. I was almost sure he suspected who I was but braved further into my charade.

  Playing along with his coolness, I touched my fingertip to his shoulder, positioning myself so he’d look up at me. He was large. He seemed taller than Daniel, taller than any of my guy friends. Large chest, large hands, large everything. His costume seemed tailor-made to hug all of his massive, hard lines.

  “Are you supposed to be scary?” he asked with that low tone that went straight to my belly.

  “Depends on how easily you scare.”

  He frowned, and I thought he hadn’t heard me. So I sat next to him, right in the spot vacated by the nurse-wannabe. He’d put his glass of Coke and his phone on the ground, next to him, and had his hands beneath his head, watching me as if I was an interesting prey.

  “Are you waiting for someone?” I asked him, still whispering only loud enough for him to hear me over the music.

  “I have no idea. Am I? Waiting for someone?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

  His eyes traveled all over my body, and I hoped my makeup was enough to hide the flush burning my cheeks.

  I kept my hands and my mind busy. I touched the edges of the rubbery yellow emblem, slowly but firmly enough to feel his heat through the material. I pressed myself against his shoulder, going so close to his face I could see the hint of stubble, smell the cloves and spice of his cologne. This man was the epitome of sexy.

  “Your eyes are intense,” he said, his gaze fixated on mine. “In fact, I don’t think I’ve seen eyes so big. What color is that, anyway?”

  I exhaled a half-breath, half-laughter and said, “They’re just brown eyes, Bruce.”

  At hearing my laughter, he shifted entirely to face me, his eyes suddenly alert as he lifted a hand to a strand of my hair and curled it around his finger, deep in thought.

  “What do you want, gorgeous eyes?” he asked again.

  I felt his voice on me, circling me like a sheet of warmth.

  “I want to kiss you.”

  “Can’t kiss me from all the way over there.”

  The next second had his hands on my waist as he pulled me forward onto his lap so I was straddling his waist.

  “That’s more like it,” he grumbled.

  I grabbed his neck and lowed my mouth close to his.

  “Hi,” I whispered, and I knew this time he couldn’t hear me.

  But he felt me. His lips were on mine in the next moment, demanding I follow his lead as his tongue swept against mine. My eyes closed without my accord. I licked his lower lip, tasting the sweetness and spice that lingered there. I felt his arms around me squeeze like steel bands and loved how he already felt hard against my belly. He drew my lip between his teeth and pulled playfully as my hands grasped his hair. So soft. The warmth of him made me want to press closer to him.

  So I did, returning the intensity of his kiss. His mouth and tongue were on mine, consuming me not letting me go as I consumed him back. I felt rather than heard a rumble deep within his chest, like he was growling. I clawed at his shoulders, which only made him deepen the kiss. This was the most delicious feeling I’d ever had, one taking over my intellect and my will.

  A loud screech and louder laughter was quickly followed by cold splashes against my skin that made us open our eyes. His looked dark and deep, like moss after a rainstorm, and he was gazing straight into mine as the corner of his mouth lifted into a smirk. The commotion was from a couple who had decided to cool off with their clothes on, but a second or two later, the pool became more popular as others followed suit. I tried to jump up, but Bruce wouldn’t have it. His large hands still splayed across my back, almost covering it entirely, and his lips formed a grin against mine.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  I pushed lightly against his chest, and he loosened his hold, moving his hands to my hips. I watched in fascination as my fingers curled and gripped his shirt tight, tight, tight.

  God, my whole body was aching with the need for this man.

  “I ruined your makeup.”

  I touched one hand against my lips and one against his, swiping away the white that had spread on his chin.

  “I’m sorry, but I need to go.”

  “Are you some sort of Cinderella now?”

  “Well, you’d have a hard time finding shoes smaller than mine on all the campus.” I winked and realized, too late, that I’d forgotten to whisper.

  “I’m already having a hard time.”

  He pushed his hips up into mine and I could feel all of his hardness, alright. God, the gruff in that voice, the twinkle in those jade eyes, the warmth of his body were almost enough to make me lose my resolve.

  Almost.

  I slid from his lap, turned, and left as fast as I could in my heels. I used my small size as an advantage and wove around inebriated bodies in more or less standing positions. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw he’d gotten up and had started to come after me, but he had stopped after a few steps.

  I hailed a cab and hurried back to my apartme
nt, all the while hating that he hadn’t chased me for longer. I touched my lips and felt them swollen. I wanted more, and I wished I hadn’t run.

  You’re a coward, Leonie.

  Collapsing into my bed, I finally checked my phone. I almost dropped it, seeing his message.

  TDL: One day, you will stop running from me. I only wish that day was sooner.

  Nineteen

  “That Damned Hair Like Honey.”

  JOEL

  I’d recognized her hair the second I’d laid eyes on her. That damned hair like flowing honey that I wanted to wrap my hands in. I needed for that girl to be her. She had the biggest eyes I’d ever seen, even hidden behind all those ridiculous layers of makeup. I prayed that it was her. Then she laughed over something I’d said. I had no idea what—I had been too lost in her gaze—and those chimes I’d heard over the phone were in her hushed laughter.

  She’d surprised me.

  She’d ambushed and disarmed me. I had been deliriously happy when she appeared next to my chair, tiny little thing with a body that could set Hell on fire. When she kissed me, I was ash in her hands. Her tongue on my tongue. Her hair falling like a curtain, blocking us from the rest of the world. I played along, kissed her back, and then let her run away to keep her secret.

  That was last night. This morning was a different story.

  “Check out that rack!” I said on a whistle as I walked into Levi’s room without knocking.

  He swiped screens immediately, and I could have sworn he was blushing beneath all the beard.

  “So who’s the vixen and what the hell kind of complicated costume was that?”

  “She’s this … cosplayer I know. It isn’t exactly a costume. Never mind. You need anything?”

  My friend was grumpier than usual.

  “Yeah, I cave. I want everything you can get me on my Text Girl.”

  He grinned.

  “Make coffee and let’s play!”

  In the next couple of hours, I found out Leonie Marsh had a full scholarship, which she had earned through consistently excellent, meritorious hard work. In her free time, she worked with children and cut hair at a campus barbershop. I’d never been so impressed with anyone, ever. I saw Theresa Marsh’s hospital records and medicine bills and the articles about the accident Leonie’s parents were in. I saw prom pictures with her and an asshole who I’d seen on campus a few times. She was smiling in the picture, but it wasn’t a smile that reached her eyes. This girl wasn’t happy there. Smile on her mouth but no twinkle in her eyes. It wasn’t the smile she gave me last night, and it wasn’t the smile I would see tomorrow when I stopped in to get my hair cut.

  Twenty

  “You Know My Number.”

  LEONIE

  “Leonie, you have someone waiting in your chair.” My shift-mate, Tania, said as she cracked open the door to the break room. “And he is a cuuuuutie!”

  I gave her a weak smile and stood. Three more appointments, and I was out. I had an exam to study for, and I hadn’t been to see my kids in a week, but all I wanted was a sack of jelly beans and a margarita big enough to swim in.

  I didn’t want to see a cutie.

  I was so confused about my feelings and why I’d run away from a guy I liked—not once, but twice—that I felt like scratching my eyes out. I alternated that with beating myself over not agreeing to meet him sooner and picking up his phone calls in the first place.

  I stepped into the parlor and couldn’t stop my mouth from falling agape. My midnight kisser was there. In my chair.

  His dark hair was not styled at all and looked like he’d been raking his hands through it repeatedly. His large body filled the whole chair. Actually, he filled the whole room. I couldn’t see anything but him, and his eyes drew me like a beacon of hope. I walked to him, tightening the apron around my waist and touching my scissors as if they were weapons for our moment of truth.

  They said only two percent of the population had green eyes. Well, I was willing to bet an even smaller percent had that particular shade of eyes. I looked closer, because in the daylight, they looked like emeralds. He had a stubble dusting his jaw, and not because he was trying to be fashionable. It was more of a very male, very virile, very what-you-see-is-what-you-get way.

  And, God, he was handsome. Pluck him out of that barber chair and fling him anywhere on the time-space continuum, and he’d still be at the top of the food chain. The most male, the most disarming specimen around.

  “Hello.” I couldn’t believe how reassured my voice sounded. Maybe I could do this.

  “Hey,” he said as his lips spread into a sexy grin.

  I reached out to brush back the hair that had fallen onto his forehead.

  “What will it be today?”

  His smile only widened.

  “Oh, I have several things on my agenda. But let’s start with a hair wash and then … wow me.”

  We were pretending we still didn’t know each other. Got it.

  I motioned for him to follow me toward the sink area. When he got to his feet, he was towering above me. I walked ahead and showed him the way. He was six feet two. The perfect height for me to lean my head back, into his chest, so he could kiss me from above. I found I really, really wanted to do that. Instead, I just put a tiny bit of extra swing in my hips. If I turned, I would bet I would catch him staring at my ass.

  “Do you like working here?” he asked when he was seated, his head tilted back as I wet his hair.

  I was leaning over him, working the shampoo over his scalp, and felt his gravelly voice in my belly.

  “It makes me feel good when I have most people looking up at me for a change,” I joked, and he chuckled. I wanted to make him laugh again.

  When I ran my fingers through his hair, he made a noise in the back of his throat, and I decided I loved his laughter, but that particular sound he did when he moaned was my new favorite. When I moved to massage the back of his hair and put extra pressure into my fingertips as they slipped down the back of his neck, he made it again. I smirked to myself. It was nice to have so much power at your fingertips.

  Why didn’t he cut to the chase, already? He was staring right at me, sizing me up, taking me in as if he wanted to memorize everything about me.

  The intensity of it all was overwhelming.

  “Let’s get you into your chair and cut your hair.”

  “What did you do for Halloween?” he asked as soon as he was seated.

  I started the blow-dryer on his fringe, making further dialogue impossible, and gave him an apologetic smile in the mirror. His eyes flashed even brighter.

  Eventually, I set the hair-dryer aside and asked, “Do you want to keep the shape only shorter?”

  He just nodded, and I worked on him in silence for a while. I combed and used a clipper on the base of his head, working my way slowly.

  I peeked at his hands on the armrest, knuckles white as if he were trying to keep them anchored. Every time I changed my position around his chair, I could feel his body heat overwhelm me.

  “So, are barbers like bartenders?”

  I grinned at him.

  “Technically, I’m called a hairdresser. In what way do you mean?”

  “Do people tell you their secrets while you’re working?”

  “Depends on the person. Do you have secrets to tell?”

  “More like … a confession.”

  I raised an eyebrow and tried to see past the emerald veneer of his eyes and judge where he was going with this.

  “I’m all ears.”

  “I’ve been talking to this girl.”

  I held in a breath and released it ever so slowly as I worked behind him and hoped he couldn’t hear the blood pumping in my veins. Considering how loud it thundered in my ears, I would be surprised if the whole campus couldn’t hear it.

  “This crazy, funny, sweet, amazing girl, who for the longest time has been just a voice to me. Turns out, she got under my skin so fast and so deep that I couldn’t shake her
off even if I wanted to.”

  I looked up and into his eyes, and he was staring right at me, like my gaze was his lifeline.

  “And do you?”

  “No, and imagine my surprise when I found out that she was just a few blocks away from me.”

  I took my shears from my pocket and went to work on the top of his hair. The memory of how I’d grabbed him during our kiss the previous night scorched through me. I wanted to do that again. I bit my lip, and he must have caught it in the mirror.

  “I liked it when you grabbed my hair too.”

  He said it with the casualness of a man who knew what he was talking about.

  “I … I … you know?” I mumbled.

  “What do you think?”

  I couldn’t do this here. Not in front of customers and co-workers.

  “Would you like to let me finish your haircut and then take my break so we can talk privately?” I said quietly. I thought he was upset. I wanted to be alone with him when he’d told me we would no longer be talking.

  “Yes.”

  His eyes kept scorching mine in the mirror, as if something I’d done or said had made him mad. I finished shortening and blending in his top hair in a blur. I saw Tania behind me signaling she’d be cleaning up after me, and I silently thanked her.

  When I couldn’t put it off any longer, I set the scissors down, unclasped the cape from around his shoulders, and I took him to the break room. I’d barely closed the door when he came into my space, breathing my air, surveying me like he was trying to peer into my brain and pull the answers that I’d refused him from me.

  “Can we …” I cleared my throat. “Can we take it from the beginning?”

  “I thought it was a given, that was what I was trying to do,” he rumbled.

  He kept looking at me and breathing my air. That clove smell was surrounding me again, making me dizzy. He hadn’t even touched me, but I felt him on my skin. I wished he’d talk some more.

  “I’m Leonie Marsh. I’m twenty-one, and my parents named me after a Latin word meaning lioness.” I swallowed audibly and felt a little bit lost when I saw his upper lip quiver. “They wanted me to be brave, and instead I’ve been cowardly avoiding meeting you in person because you weren’t something I planned for and I have a sense of doom whenever unplanned things happen. So I preferred keeping you.”