by L.H. Cosway
“Just because I don’t go around yelling my feelings from the rooftop, doesn’t mean I don’t have any.”
My anger wavered. “Well, what are they then?”
He opened his mouth, but he hesitated. Will stared at me for an extended moment, and then released my finger. His frown seemed to intensify as his gaze moved over my face. He looked frustrated, upset. Angry.
Suddenly, I didn’t want to have this conversation.
“Josey—”
“Never mind. I don’t want to know. Get out of my way.” I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around myself, shaking my head.
After another pause, Will stepped aside and I unlocked the door. I rushed past him, returning to my seat where a fresh drink was waiting for me. I no longer had a taste for it. I wasn’t an angry person, but I was angry. Will had every right to put an end to our arrangement, and yet, I felt hard done by.
Get a grip, Josey.
By the time we arrived in Ireland, it was 3:00 a.m. and I felt worse than I’d ever felt in my entire life. My hair was greasy, my clothes rumpled and stained with plane food, and my body ached with exhaustion. Still, I didn’t want to go home to Will’s place. I wanted to see my parents, cuddle my dog, and remember that the world wasn’t such a horrible place where people decided they didn’t want you anymore at the drop of a hat.
“Where are you going?” Will asked when I went to hail my own taxi.
“I’m going to my parents’ house. I’ll be back tomorrow to resume my duties, but right now I just need to see my family.”
If I wasn’t so tired, I might’ve been able to determine the emotion that swept across Will’s face for a split second. But as it was, I couldn’t. Nor did I want to.
Finally, he nodded. “Okay. Say hello to your mam and dad for me. Here’s some money for the journey.”
He held out a fifty euro note, but I shook my head. “No, thank you.”
Will didn’t try to push the matter. Instead, he slid the fifty back in his wallet and grabbed my suitcase to lug into the trunk of the waiting taxi. I slid into the back seat and shut the door, keeping my eyes studiously forward as the cab pulled away.
My parents were asleep when I got to their house. I noticed the FOR SALE sign up out front and my heart hurt. It wouldn’t take long for someone to snap up my childhood home. It was a bit of a fixer-upper, but it was in a very desirable neighborhood.
Rocky heard me as soon as I slid my key in the door. He came running down the stairs barking in sheer glee. I bent down and he hopped all over me, licking my face and sniffing me like crazy. His eyes held an accusation, Where the hell have you been?!
I smiled for the first time in almost three days and chuckled when he slobbered all over my ear.
A creak in the floorboard had me looking up to find my parents standing at the top of the stairs in their pajamas.
“Josey, you’re back!” Mam exclaimed, coming down to give me a hug.
“We thought you’d go straight to the apartment and come to collect Rocky tomorrow,” Dad said, joining in the hug.
I sniffed back the need to cry, blinking away the tears. They all smelled so good. Like home. “I was going to, but I just missed you all so much. Is it okay if I sleep here tonight?”
“Of course, your room’s just the same as you left it,” Mam replied.
We headed upstairs and I fell onto my bed. My heart was still hurting in a million places, but for a moment I felt a modicum of peace. I stripped down to my T-shirt and knickers and crawled under the familiar duvet. Rocky curled up beside me and I was asleep as soon as I closed my eyes.
“Believe me, Fluffy, men aren’t all they’re cracked up to be. Between you and me, you’re better off without them. I’ve learned that lesson the hard way,” I told the drowsy tabby cat I was comforting. She’d just been neutered, and I was taking care of her until her owners came to collect her.
I’d been back in Ireland three days and was starting to get back into a routine. I still felt depressed as hell, but I was doing my best to keep busy. When they offered me an extra shift at the clinic, I jumped at the chance.
Needless to say, things between Will and I were weird, but we were both endeavoring to get along. We hung out in the evenings, Will cooked dinner, but it just wasn’t the same. When I returned to the apartment after spending the night at my parents’ house, I apologized to him for the incident on the plane. I’d been a mean drunk and he didn’t deserve my salty attitude. He’d told me there was no reason to apologize in a very graceful, very monosyllabic, very Will-like way.
I was also trying to do my job, keep him on the straight and narrow, but it felt like being around one another was a torture to both of us. It was hard for me because I still had feelings for him, and I assumed it was hard for him because he felt guilty for hurting me.
Every day I asked myself how I was ever naïve enough to think friends with benefits would work.
“Anyway, look at you,” I said, petting Fluffy softly. “You don’t need to be hearing about my woes. You’ve been through enough of your own.”
The cat made a small sound of unhappiness, like she was agreeing with me.
Later that day when I got home, there was a woman waiting in the lobby. She looked to be in her early thirties, her blonde hair in a sleek ponytail.
“Miss Kavanagh,” the concierge greeted. “There’s a guest here for Mr. Moore. Do you have any idea when he’ll be home?”
“He should be back soon,” I replied, then looked at the woman. “You’re not a journalist, are you? Because he’s not giving any interviews right now.”
She looked me up and down, eyes narrowing. “Who are you?”
“I’m his, uh, assistant,” I lied, and just like that her hostility vanished.
“Oh, well, do you mind if I come upstairs and wait for him? I’m an old friend and this really is important. I promise I’m not a journalist.”
I hesitated, because there was something off about her. Her makeup was too perfect yet too heavy at the same time. She didn’t have a hair out of place, but there was an eagerness in her eyes I didn’t like. “What’s your name?”
She straightened and held out her hand. “I’m Aideen. Aideen Gallagher.”
Oh damn.
All of a sudden, it was hard to breathe. This was the woman Will had watched having sex with her husband, the one who’d fallen in love with him. I didn’t know what to do. I was pretty sure Will didn’t want to see her, but I couldn’t just turn her away. Plus, it might be good for him to give her closure in person, right?
Conflict filled me.
My belly in knots, I shook her hand. My palm was sweaty as hell. “I’m Josey. I’m just going to call Will and let him know you’re here. He might be running late.”
I pulled out my phone, but Aideen reached out to stop me. That was the first red flag.
“No, don’t do that. I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”
I stepped aside. “I should still give him a call.”
She smiled wide now, too wide. “I’d really like to surprise him. We haven’t seen each other for a while.”
I eyed her. Even with how things were between Will and I, I wasn’t bringing her up to the apartment to ambush him. That was his private space and he got to decide who he let inside.
Her gaze pleaded with me and I swallowed nervously, stalling.
The door to the building opened and relief seized me when Will walked inside. He had his gym bag over his shoulder, his eyes downcast as he read something on his phone. I hurried over to him, spotting two photographers just outside the door.
“Will, there’s uh, there’s someone here to see you,” I said, an anxious quaver in my voice, sending a small prayer upward that the photographers outside would lose interest and leave.
He looked up. “Josey, what are you—”
“Hello William.” Aideen stepped forward.
Will froze as soon as he heard her voice, his eyes darting to hers. His expression clouded, no
longer the stoic, reserved Oklahoman I knew. A simmering, barely perceptible anger fizzled below the surface.
“Aideen.”
The way he said her name gave me chills, and not the good kind.
I was stressed out for him. I knew he’d been struggling over what to do about her emails back in Australia, and now she was here. He was going to have to deal with her and I knew it wouldn’t be pretty. Whatever was about to happen, I really didn’t want to be a part of it.
And yet, at the same time, the surge of instinctive protectiveness I felt was impossible to ignore. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—leave him alone with her. Maybe he didn’t need my help, but he was going to get it.
One thing was for certain, the shit was about to hit the fan.
Twenty
@WillthebrickhouseMoore: I have retired to the growlery
@THEBryanLeech to @WillthebrickhouseMoore: WTF is a growlery? Is that one of @JoseyInHeels’s old words?
WILL
“I’ve missed you.” Smiling, Aideen took another meandering step towards us.
But my primary concern was Josey. I moved my attention to her and searched her expression. After learning about Aideen’s lies and manipulations, I didn’t want Josey anywhere near the woman.
I dipped my head, holding her eyes. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” She nodded quickly, whispering, “How can I help?”
Despite the situation, and the week of misery that had precluded it, I felt myself smile. “I’m sorry.” This was the closest we’d been since I’d invaded her space in the airplane, and so of course my attention snagged on her lips.
“About what?” she asked, sounding breathless. Or maybe just nervous.
“About this.” About everything.
“Aren’t you going to invite me up?” Aideen interrupted.
I stiffened, flexing my jaw.
Yeah, no.
That was never going to happen.
My glare cut to Aideen. She tilted her head as her eyes flickered over me, and then to my . . . my roommate.
Acting on instinct, I stepped slightly in front of Josey and crossed my arms. “What are you doing here?”
Aideen laughed, her eyes coming back to mine. “I just told you. I missed you.”
“Does Kean know you’re here?” I wondered, hoping that they’d reconciled. It was a longshot, given the nature of his last emails, but I hoped.
Her stare darted to Josey again, and then back to me.
“It doesn’t matter.” Aideen lifted her chin, as though just deciding something. “I left him.”
I exhaled through gritted teeth, frustrated.
“William.” Aideen took yet another step forward and I watched her slow approach. “I’m free now. We both are. I did this for you, for us—”
“Are you well?” I asked.
She seemed to perk up at this, which meant she misunderstood my meaning.
“What I mean is, are you safe? How is your mental fitness?”
“My . . .” A confused smile washed over her features and she laughed again. “I’m fine, silly. I’m not crazy.”
Josey made a small sound and I glanced at her. Before I could see Josey’s expression, she tucked her chin against her chest, hiding her face.
“I’m not asking if you’re crazy.” I moved my focus back to Aideen. “I’m asking if you’re depressed, anxious. Are you having suicidal thoughts?”
“What? No!” Aideen shook her head adamantly. “I just want to—”
“No.” Sliding my hand into the bend of Josey’s elbow, I pulled her towards the elevator. “Let’s go.”
Aideen made a sound of disbelief but apparently recovered quickly. I heard her steps follow us, heels against the marble floor.
“I just want a few minutes of your time.” She seemed to be speaking through clenched teeth. “You can’t give me a few minutes?”
“No.” I pressed the call button for the lift and took a step back, my eyes on the panel display.
Aideen placed her hand on my free arm and tugged. “I can force you to talk to me.”
“Hey now”—Josey peeked around me, her voice held a hard edge—“don’t you touch him—”
Aideen ignored her, and her own voice turned threatening. “If you don’t talk to me, I’ll give an earful to those two photographers out there.”
“Go ahead.” I shrugged the woman off, stepping closer to Josey and biting back the urge to remind Aideen that she’d already paid a prostitute to give the media an earful of lies.
I glanced at Josey again. She was now staring at Aideen, a furious-looking wrinkle between her brows. Josey was clearly and unmistakably angry on my behalf, which caused my heart to give a bizarre, pleased leap.
God, how I missed her.
This last week—ever since our late-night talk in Australia, where she’d called things off between us before I could—had been miserable. The day after, the plane ride back, the night she’d spent at her parents’ house, all miserable. She’d been quiet and withdrawn, and then irritable and callous.
But then, and worst of all, when she’d come home after the night with her parents, she was her normal self. Completely normal. Sunny, funny Josey.
As though nothing had changed.
As though Australia never happened.
As though it had meant nothing to her.
I’d been swallowing glass every time she smiled or joked, or played with Rocky and laughed at his antics, like her world hadn’t ended that night, like it hadn’t tilted off its axis, leaving her miserable and shaken. Selfishly, I preferred her quiet and withdrawn, irritable and callous. At least that had given me hope, the possibility that maybe she’d also wanted more.
But no.
And now we were here, and she was glaring at Aideen with fire and fury in her eyes, and I clung to that sliver of a sign.
And maybe I’m pathetic.
Aideen had been quiet for a few seconds, eventually saying, “How can you be so cold? It’s not like you.”
That statement earned her a sneer. “You don’t know me.”
“I do—”
“And I don’t know you.”
“You know me.” Her voice seemed to waver, but her eyes were dry. “You know me intimately.”
My sneer deepened, chagrined by her implication.
Kean and Aideen, quite literally, could have been anyone. That was the entire point of our arrangement.
“Just leave.”
As though a punctuation to my words, the elevator dinged, announcing its arrival. Stepping away from her, I led Josey into the lift and pressed the button for our floor. Turning and issuing Aideen a warning glare as she moved to board, I shook my head slowly.
Don’t. Don’t even think about it.
“I love you.” Her chin wobbled, and yet her eyes were still dry.
“No. You don’t,” I scoffed. What was it going to take for this woman to leave me alone?
She put her foot in the path of the doors, holding them open. “I do!”
“Why are you doing this? Why are you throwing away your marriage? You know nothing about me.”
“You’re William Moore, flanker for—”
I responded without thinking, my temper flaring, “That’s not what I mean. You have to know someone to love them.”
“But—”
“And when you love someone, you don’t hire prostitutes to spread lies to the media and try to ruin their career.”
Josey sucked in an audible breath and I felt her shocked eyes on my profile. Removing my hand from her arm, I pulled it through my hair, grinding my teeth and immediately regretting the words. I hadn’t meant for her to find out.
Meanwhile, Aideen blanched. Yet, she didn’t remove her foot.
Instead, she shrieked, “I’m sorry!”
“No. You’re not. You’re sorry you got caught. Do you know what your lies have cost? Not me, but the people I care about? My team? My foundation work? My—those kids?”
Fuck.
I couldn’t focus on this. If I thought about The Dream Foundation, all those people I’d let down because of this woman’s lies, I was going to lose my shit.
“It doesn’t matter, I can make it better,” she begged. “Please.”
“No. Even if you hadn’t spread lies about me, you knew the rules—”
“Damn the rules! And damn you. I can’t help what I feel,” she wailed.
“What you feel is not love.”
The woman sniffed, lifting her chin again. “What do you know about lo—”
“Love is letting someone go, because it’s what’s best for them.”
“Is that what this is about?” Aideen shifted like she was going to board the elevator, her eyes hopeful. “Are you trying to do what you think is right for me?”
I growled, infinitely frustrated, glaring at the ceiling. “I’m not talking about you.”
The elevator alarm made a shrill, beeping sound, reminding us that there was something preventing the doors from shutting.
“When you looked at me, I felt it, I felt—”
That’s it.
Overcome with anger, I charged towards her. “I’m not in love with you. I feel nothing for you. How can I love you when I’m in love with someone else?”
Shocked silence followed my shouted outburst, with Aideen stumbling backwards and away, her eyes rimmed wide with surprise.
Finally, finally, the beeping ended, and the doors slid shut, blocking her from view. If I never saw that woman again, it would be too soon. I exhaled my relief.
My relief was, however, short-lived.
“Will?”
I grew rigid.
Shit.
What had I just said? What had she heard?
“Who. . .?” Josey’s voice was quiet, but her tone was unmistakably confused.
Still facing the elevator doors, I shut my eyes, my confession chanting between my ears. I’m in love with someone else.
The panic I thought I’d left behind in Australia returned full force, a knife in my chest, and it only expanded the longer we stood in silence.
