Bad Romance
Page 14
When Tyler had asked me to meet him for dinner, I agreed immediately. Knowing my mom would be nearby, yet still didn’t know I was home, didn’t sit well with me…even though Mother and I were never particularly close.
We’d never gotten along all that great because I was the mistake she never really wanted.
It wasn’t that we had this deep-rooted dislike for one another, or that she had beaten me as a kid or anything so dramatic as that. It was just that while I had been busy growing up, she chose to focus more on her current husband—or finding her next one. There hadn’t been much time for an annoying kid she’d never planned on having in the first place.
And she had never failed to remind me of that.
Now that I was all grown up, and the presumably hard part of parenting was over, she seemed to have finally settled down. Which meant—you guessed it—she suddenly had time for her unwanted son. A.k.a. me. So she started emailing more. Asking me what I was going to do with my life once I got out of the army.
After I got injured, I told her over the phone that I might be coming back home, that I might be leaving the army, and she immediately started planning my future. Where I would go to school. What I would become, now that I was done “playing soldier” overseas. Where I would live when I came back. It had been an immediate process, and I hadn’t had the heart to tell her she could plan all she wanted, but I would choose my own damn path.
It was what I’ve always done.
I wasn’t about to change that because she suddenly remembered I existed.
So I hadn’t told her I was home at all. Hadn’t spoken to her since, despite her repeated calls, and all the excited life plans she made for me, with Walt’s help.
Hell, when I was fighting overseas, she sent me a letter a year. One. Damn. Letter. Lilly had written once a week. And when her letters had finally trickled to a stop, I missed them every mail call. Given a choice, I would’ve opted for my mother’s letters to stop, not Lilly’s. Speaking of Lilly…
Damn it, I couldn’t quite sort out my feelings for her right now.
I was angry, because she might marry Preppy Prick. I was smug because she still clearly preferred me over him. I was wounded, because she didn’t seem to give a shit that we couldn’t be together. And mixed up in it all was the desire to have her in my arms again, to see the passion on her face, as she came apart in my bed.
But I couldn’t have her. I refused to have only part of her.
It was killing me. She was killing me.
Tyler slid back into the booth, still clutching his phone. “Sorry, that was the bar. We’re out of vodka again.”
“Don’t you have an inventory manager for that shit?” I asked.
“Yes, but he quit. I’m still looking for a replacement.” He picked up his gin and tonic and downed it. “So, how’s it going, living with your sister?”
“She’s not my sister,” I said just as quickly. “But it’s good. We get along well.”
“Good.” He set his drink down. “She’s pretty.”
I frowned. “Yeah…”
“It’s got to be weird, living with her like that.” Tyler twisted his lips, his gaze on a pretty blonde sitting at the bar alone. “You two barely know each other, and now you’re roommates, and she’s hot, and she clearly has feelings for you. And you feel something for her, though I’m not sure what that something is.”
I stiffened. “Why would you say that?”
“I have eyes,” he said simply. “But like I said, living with someone you don’t know is weird.”
That wasn’t true. I did know Lilly. As a matter of fact, I would bet my life that I knew her better than anyone else did. But I wouldn’t admit that to Tyler. I picked up my scotch. We’d already finished eating, and were waiting on our bill, so the table was cleared. “She wrote to me when I was overseas. Up until she went to college, just like Walt asked her to. So I do know her, more than you’d think.”
“Letters from years ago don’t mean much,” Tyler said, picking up his empty glass and frowning. “What was your sister like, as a kid?”
“She’s not my sister,” I said automatically as I stared down into the amber liquid in my glass. “But she was…smart. Funny. Free-spirited, but not sure how to show it. I could always tell she wanted to be free of her dad’s hold, but she never did anything about it. Still hasn’t. Hell, he picked a husband for her. Wrote out a contract and everything. And she might actually marry the guy.”
“Wait. What?” Tyler shook his head, as if unsure he’d heard me correctly. “You’re joking, right?”
“Nope. Dead serious.” I set my almost-empty glass down. “She’s legally contracted to marry some prick.”
Tyler blinked as if he weren’t sure he’d heard me right. “People still do that?”
“Apparently, rich people do.” I shrugged. “It’s something to do with money and mergers and his business.”
“Shit, man.” Tyler sagged back against the booth. “And she’s just gonna do it?”
“I think so. She says she’s looking for a way out, another option, but even as she says it, I can see the resignation in her eyes.” I lifted our cups to the bartender, who nodded from across the room. “I might not know her as well as I should, but I know this. She might think she can get out of it, but if she doesn’t find a way, she’ll marry him. I don’t know what her dad is holding over her head, or why she feels she has to, but she will.”
Tyler whistled through his teeth. “Damn, man. That’s fucked up.”
I downed the remainder of my drink, not answering.
“What about you? How are you doing?” Tyler asked.
“I’m fine,” I said quickly. “Working. Sleeping. Living.”
“Did you tell your mom you’re back yet?”
I laughed. “No.”
“Are you ever going to?”
“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “I’m actually asking around about being repositioned somewhere else, on recruiting duty. Hawaii sounds nice.”
“You’re leaving again?” Tyler asked flatly.
I slid our glasses to the edge of the table, unable to sit still. “Maybe.”
“Did you ever think you’re running from something?”
I tapped my fingers on the table in a steady rhythm, pretending I was counting down the seconds before taking a clean shot at a target. “I don’t want to live here. With my mother. I don’t think I’ve hidden my—”
“What about your sister?” Tyler leaned in. “Are you running from her, too?”
“Why would I?” I asked, my heart pounding loudly in my head. “We’re just stepsiblings. Nothing else.”
“Yeah. Sure you are.” Tyler waved a hand dismissively. “And I’m Bradley fucking Cooper.”
The drinks came, and I picked mine up immediately. Tyler did the same. “She doesn’t mean anything to me. She can’t. I just owe her a debt is all, and I’m trying to repay it. To make my past wrongs right.”
“What debt would that be?” he asked, his attention still locked on the blonde. She now watched him back. “You haven’t told me that yet.”
“That’s because it’s personal.”
“Of course it is.” Tyler blinked. “I saw you reading those letters, man. Over and over and over again. You lived for them. Loved them. Don’t act as if you didn’t. You still have them, for fuck’s sake.”
I shifted on my seat uneasily, because I did. I took them with me wherever I went. And when I had a bad day, I read them. Especially my favorite ones. “That doesn’t mean I have feelings for her.”
“Then why did you move in with her, instead of me?”
“I told you.” I shrugged. “A debt.”
“Yeah. Sure.”
Tyler smiled at the blonde, and she blushed. That was another reason I didn’t want to live with him, but I didn’t want to say it. If he thought sleeping around and getting drunk were helping him, then who the hell was I to tell him to stop?
I wasn’t his doc
tor. I was his friend.
“Go ahead. Go say hi. I’ve got this one.”
“Are you sure?” he asked me, already scooting out of the booth.
“Yeah. But don’t forget you have to see Doc Greene tomorrow,” I reminded him. It’s what we did. Kept each other on track. When Tyler had been injured, he chose to leave the army altogether. It was a decision he still struggled with. “I’ll expect a full report.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Tyler muttered. “Have fun playing house with your sister.”
“Fuck off,” I called out.
But I grinned at the gibe. Tyler was my brother, even if it wasn’t by blood.
As soon as I was alone again, my mind wandered back to Lilly. How could she actually be planning to marry a man she didn’t like? She deserved more.
She deserved to be happy.
This was the kind of woman who, even as a teenager, had embraced a guy like me. Who had written letter after letter, without any sign of encouragement from me, and had done so simply to make me aware she cared about me. Who had loved me, when I clearly didn’t deserve that love. Who continued to love me, even when I didn’t write back to her. A boy she barely knew.
How did she feel about the man I had become?
It didn’t matter. Not really. All because she was going to be a martyr and marry Preppy Prick because her father said she “had” to. That wasn’t fair. None of this was fair.
And she shouldn’t be okay with that.
My phone rang, and I cringed when I saw who it was.
My mother. Sighing, I picked up the phone. “Hello?”
“Hello, dear. It’s me. Your mother.”
I barely refrained from rolling my eyes. “Yeah. I know.”
“How are you doing over there? What’s all that noise?”
“It’s just the guys, being loud. It’s our night off. And I’m fine. Good. Aren’t you supposed to be at—?” I bit down on my tongue, because I knew she was supposed to be at dinner with Lilly, but I couldn’t admit that. “I mean, what are you up to tonight?”
“Nothing. Just got home from dinner.”
“Was it good?” I asked politely. If she was home, that meant Lilly would be home soon. Suddenly, I had the urge to go home, too. “Did you have a nice time?”
“It was lovely,” she answered, yawning. “When are you coming back? You said you’d be home soon.”
I winced, because she didn’t even know I’d been shot. When I called her from the hospital, I purposely left that part out of our discussion. And it was a good thing, because I hadn’t left. I wasn’t getting out of the army, after all. “I changed my mind, Mother.”
She got really quiet, then, “What do you mean?”
“I didn’t leave the army. I stayed in.”
More silence. “Why would you do that?”
“Because it’s where I want to be.” I rubbed my forehead and waved at Tyler as he left, the blonde firmly under his arm. The dude worked fast. “It’s what I want to be.”
She started off on a tirade about all these plans she made, and how I was supposed to come home and take my rightful place as her son, and be a politician, and yada yada yada. I tuned out after the first three minutes, my mind still on Lilly. It remained there until she yelled, “Jackson! Are you even listening to me?”
“Yes, sorry.” I blinked. “I didn’t sleep well last night, and it’s late over here.” The lie didn’t sit well in the pit of my stomach.
“Why not?” The phone shuffled. “Are you having nightmares? I heard a lot of soldiers do. You should go to the base doctor. I’ll bet he’s very discreet.”
“No, Mom. I’m not having nightmares.” I just couldn’t sleep after fucking Lilly, and the events of the aftermath. The sounds she’d made while she came had haunted me well into the wee hours of the morning. “I just had too much coffee.”
“You should be careful of that,” she said, serious as can be.
I had to bite back a laugh. Christ, when I was a kid, I used to drink Coke by the two-liter, and she hadn’t said a word. But now that I was an adult, and she was vying for Mother of the Year, she cared about my caffeine intake? It was beyond ridiculous. “You’re right. It’s totally a serious matter.”
“I wish you were still coming home, Jackson.”
I swallowed hard, that unwelcome guilt rising up again. “I’m sorry.”
We talked for a few more minutes and then hung up.
Now that her duty was done, she wouldn’t call me again for another two weeks. After lying to my mother, I needed to relax, to calm down the feelings that were shredding up my insides, before walking home. So I settled back in my booth and finished my drink, scanning the crowded bar as I did so. It was practically filled to the brim, but it seemed innocent enough. Just a lot of people trying to get drunk, laid, or both.
No one looking to kill me, or attack, and yet I was still on edge.
I hated crowds. Too many people to keep an eye on.
A brunette woman came up to me, obviously a regular on the hunt for fresh meat. “You look lonely over here, by yourself,” she said, smiling. “Wanna buy me a drink?”
Oh, yeah. I’d like nothing more. “Sorry, I’m spoken for. I’ve got a lady waiting for me back home.” Not a complete lie. I did. But she wasn’t my lady. “But if I wasn’t…”
She pouted playfully before giving me a genuine smile. “Your lady is one lucky woman.”
Not true. Lilly was so selfless, she gave all her luck away.
I watched the woman prowl off. She was hot and up for no-strings fun. She would be a perfect person to start moving on with, but I felt nothing. There wasn’t a single twitch from my cock.
All I wanted to think about was Lilly, and the way she’d made me feel last night. And how her back had arched when she came, her bright green eyes locked on to mine as she floated away on an orgasm. And her laugh. Smile. How soft her hair was…
Shit. Now I was hard as a rock.
Maybe I should go for the other woman, after all.
As I drank, I watched the crowd around me. For some reason, I was finding it amusing to watch people try to score all night, with person after person, until they finally succeeded. As the hour wore on, more and more people paired off, leaving together. And yet I still sat there, nursing the same drink.
When I saw the brunette eye me with renewed interest, I tossed cash on the table and stood up, heading for the door. Once outside, I took my phone out for the tenth time that night. This time, I had one missed call, and a voicemail.
I didn’t recognize the number, so I started the voicemail.
“Hello, Lieutenant Worthington. It’s Petty Officer Thomas. Give me a call back, and we’ll schedule a time to chat about that transfer to Hawaii you put a request in for.”
I smiled, because it was happening.
Shit was falling into place, and if everything went according to plan, soon I’d be outta Arlington again. Away from Mom and Walt, and away from…Lilly.
Funny. That last part didn’t feel so great anymore.
And that pissed me off.
Chapter 14
Lilly
It had been five nights.
Five long, stressful, lonely nights since Jackson and I made love. And ever since, he kept his word. He treated me with kindness, and never once veered into anything more intimate. We were friends, and I could tell he cared about me, and God knew I cared about him. He didn’t talk about the night we shared, never once hinting he might be interested in more. He had been one hundred percent the platonic stepbrother, and it was killing me. He might be okay with one night of pleasure…
But I was not.
I ached for his touch. I dreamt of him every night. Last night, I’d awoken up around two in a cold sweat, with my hand down my underwear. Panting, I opened my eyes, hoping that the dream I woke up from about him making love to me with his mouth was real, but it hadn’t been. I was alone in the bed.
And just like that?
My impending or
gasm slipped away.
That dream left me aching even more than before. And I was ready to snap. If he smiled at me one more time, or acted as if he didn’t want me when he had to, I just might pounce on him. This insistent desire couldn’t possibly be one-sided…could it?
He had to still want me, too.
“Are you even listening to me?” Derek asked.
I jerked myself out of my thoughts. Ever since Jackson moved in, Derek kept finding more and more excuses to come over. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was trying to fix our relationship like he’d said the other day…or if it was because he just liked to drool all over Jackson.
Because he did that. A lot.
“Yeah, sorry. What did you say again?”
“I asked what time you had to be in at work tomorrow,” he said slowly.
I sat up straighter. “Oh, nine.”
“Okay.” He shifted and glanced at the clock. “What time does Jackson get home again?”
There was my answer.
I couldn’t blame him. I wanted to drool all over Jackson, too. “Any minute now.”
As if on cue, the door opened, and Jackson called out, “Lilly? You home?”
“Yeah,” I replied, fanning myself with my notebook. It was hot as Hades in here, and it would only get hotter the second he walked in the room. “In the kitchen.”
“I brought you a—” He stopped in the doorway, faltering. He still wore his dark green army uniform, and he looked smoking hot in it. Every time I saw him wearing it, and didn’t get to touch him, I died a little inside. “Oh. You’re not alone.”
“No, she’s not,” Derek snapped, scanning Jackson’s form. “Disappointed?”
It was funny, because when Jackson was around, Derek acted as if he hated him. But I saw the way he perked up whenever he entered the room. Saw the interest burning in his bright blue eyes. The jackass attitude he gave Jackson was clearly some kind of weird flirting. Derek was more engaged during Jackson’s quick comebacks than during an entire hour conversation with me, where he mostly talked about himself.