by T. K. Leigh
Likewise, girlfriend. Likewise.
In an attempt to be the bigger person, I reach my hand toward her. “Theresa. So wonderful to meet you.”
She plasters a fake smile on her face, although she can’t fake it like I can. She better practice because she’ll need to fake some orgasms if she plans on staying with him. Sex is...okay, but she’ll need some extra assistance if she wants to get off on a regular basis.
“I’ve heard so much about you.”
I look from Theresa to Trevor. Even their names are similar. It’s creepy. “I wish I could say the same.” I keep my tone upbeat, not wanting anyone to catch on to how hard it is for me to see him with another woman, especially mere weeks after he broke up with me. “I didn’t realize you liked this place. It’s out of the way from your office. What is it? Fifteen blocks from Thirty-Fourth and Fifth?”
“Actually, it’s closer to twenty. But Theresa’s never had one of their chocolate hazelnut pastries. I stop by every morning for one before heading into the office.”
“You do?” I try to hide the hurt in my voice over the fact that I didn’t know this about him. And that I haven’t noticed him during the weeks I’ve been camped out here. Who else haven’t I noticed? What if my propensity to be easily distracted by cute puppy videos on the Internet caused me to miss August Laurent?
“Yeah. But I haven’t been able to get here recently because of the trial.”
“Right,” I breathe in a drawn-out voice, relieved. “The trial.”
I don’t even bother to ask how it went as we stare at each other in uncomfortable silence. I do my best to pretend the idea of him sharing a chocolate hazelnut pastry with Theresa doesn’t break me even more. He’s supposed to want to share these things with me. Hell, my office is only a few blocks away, yet not once did he ask me to meet him here.
“Well…,” I say, my tone upbeat. We had the spark once. I have to figure out how to get it back. Then he’ll come to his senses, and I’ll be there waiting. “I need to get back to work.”
I’d normally make a joke about having to take a few vibrators for a test drive for an article I’m working on, but I don’t, choosing the mature route. Although it’s hard… Really hard.
“It was nice seeing you.” I skirt past them and push my way through the glass doors. The instant I’m outside, I lean against the brick wall of the building, exhaling a breath. People move along this busy section of New York as if I don’t matter, don’t exist. Like Trevor just made me feel, despite our lengthy history.
“That’s him then, is it? Your ex?”
I whip my eyes to my left, watching with a furtive stare as Julian strolls toward me.
Great. Just what I need. Sometimes I wish my life had background music so I can understand what the hell is going on. Right now, I’m at a complete loss. All I know is it seems like the universe is conspiring against me.
“So what if it is?” I cross my arms in front of my chest, acting as if seeing Trevor had no effect on me.
“Hope you don’t think it rude of me to say—”
“The fact you lead off with that statement means whatever’s about to follow is rude.”
He closes the distance between us, his gaze searing my flesh, causing it to prickle. Trevor never stared at me with this much heat, this much want, this much raw need. When I first met Julian, I figured I imagined the connection. But it’s here. And I’m sober, despite my burning need for a drink after running into Trevor, then Julian again. Both within minutes of each other.
“He doesn’t seem your type.”
“Great.” I roll my eyes. “Yet another person who thinks Trevor’s too good for me.” I push past him, but stop in my tracks, the Irish temper I’m normally able to keep under wraps exploding from me. Whirling around, I narrow my fiery stare on him, my jaw tense, my fists clenched. “Who do you think you are anyway? You know nothing about me, other than how I am in bed, which you shouldn’t have found out in the first place. I can’t do anything to change that now, though. So while I appreciate your little pep talk, I am so not in the mood today.”
I turn from him, my hair nearly smacking me in the face with the force as I walk in the opposite direction of the magazine’s office.
“I can help you!” he calls after me.
“With another romp in the sack?” I shout over my shoulder as I cross the street, swept up in the sea of people heading toward Central Park. “Thanks for the offer, but I’d rather keep our one-night stand to just that. One night. Goodbye, Julius.”
Chapter Nine
There are times I’ve often longed for the simple and sparsely populated life I lived back in Nebraska. The sheer amount of people who live, work, or play in New York City can be suffocating. Right now, I use that to my advantage, allowing everyone heading into the park to shield me from Julian.
Once I’m certain I’ve evaded him, I break off from the crowd and walk down one of the meandering paths, mature trees shading me from the hot June sun. The sound of runners’ feet hitting the pavement is coupled with birds and the background noise of Manhattan, but there’s still a tranquility here you can’t find anywhere else.
Dogs pull their walkers along the trails, tourists stop for a picnic on a grassy area. A few locals on their lunch break sit on a bench and read. I even spy a couple having their engagement photos taken. It causes me to slow my steps, unable to look away. I had planned this very thing for Trevor and me.
I even had a list of shots I wanted our photographer to capture. Thanks to my time working for a wedding planner, I knew exactly what I wanted. Now, I stare at this couple with longing, faced with the possibility that I’ve truly lost Trevor, that this breakup may not be due to stress, as I tried to claim it was.
My legs seeming to give out as I confront this new reality, I fall onto a bench, recalling the distance that seemed to stretch between us, even when we had first moved here. I always excused his behavior, considering he was in law school. Maybe we fell out of love all those years ago, but neither of us would admit it, not wanting to prove our parents right when they warned us moving to New York together was crazy. But I remember all the happy moments we shared, too.
Like when we’d order a pizza and sit out on the fire escape to eat it, the view of the city more mesmerizing and exhilarating than any movie could be.
Like the time we got lost when trying to figure out the subway system and ended up somewhere in the Bronx. Instead of asking someone for help finding our way back, Trevor insisted we figure it out on our own. Together. And we did.
Like the way all the tension slowly rolled off his body when he’d climb into bed beside me after a long day of studying. He’d wrap his arms around me and fall asleep. In those moments, everything was worth it.
I have to believe it still is.
“You’re giving me a complex, ya know,” a voice startles me from my quiet reflection.
I snap my head to my right to see Julian helping himself to the vacant space beside me. He drapes his long arms along the back of the park bench, resting the calf of one leg on the other thigh.
“How many times are you going to run away from me, Evie?”
“Not used to a woman telling you no?”
He narrows his steely gaze on me. “I’m not used to anyone telling me no.”
Rolling my eyes, I stand. “Well, get used to it because the only answer you’ll ever get out of me is no. Have a nice day, Julian.” When I spin from him, I almost run into a group of cyclists flying by. Thankfully, their reflexes are quick and swerve out of my way, allowing me to avoid any additional embarrassment today.
“Even if I said I may have a way to help you with your predicament with your ex?” he calls out.
I halt, gradually turning to face him, tilting my head to the side. A voice in my head reminds me that I barely know this guy, so there’s only one reason he’d want to help me. But there’s something about the way he looks at me that keeps me here. A genuine affection that’s been missing from Tr
evor in recent days.
I place a hand on my hip, pinching my lips into a tight line. “Well, are you going to share how? Or do you hope I pick it up telepathically?”
With a smile that can only be described as panty-dropping, he gestures back to the park bench, an unspoken request for me to sit. I hesitate, but eventually acquiesce, ignoring the buzz of energy that sparks in my body as I pass him, inhaling a hint of his aroma.
Once we’re both situated, he glances at me. “You’re serious about getting back with your ex?”
“Of course!” I exclaim, indignant. “We were together twelve years. You don’t throw away twelve years overnight. He probably didn’t think he had any other option if he wanted to be taken seriously as a possible candidate for partner. All the other partners’ spouses have more serious jobs. I get that giving sex advice isn’t something to be proud of.”
He rests his forearms on his thighs, considering my words. “I believe it shows you have no problem talking about uncomfortable topics, a trait Trevor should find valuable.”
I struggle not to react to his compliment, failing miserably as heat covers my cheeks.
“So let me help you prove that to him.”
“How?”
“Date me.”
I straighten my spine, leaning farther away from him. “What?”
The expression on my face is probably akin to that of a child who prematurely learns Mommy or Daddy is actually Santa Claus. Nothing could have prepared me to hear Julian suggest we date to help me win back Trevor.
“Sorry if I sound blunt, but are you fucking crazy? I just told you I want to get back together with my ex and you ask me to date you?”
“It won’t be real.” He laughs, causing his eyes to sparkle. It’s the first time I’ve heard him laugh, and it’s just as hypnotic and seductive as I imagined it would be. “Just for show. To make him jealous. He’s moved on. You should make him think you’ve done the same.”
I shake my head, thinking the entire idea absurd. It reminds me of my conversation with Chloe and Nora that night at the bar when I first heard the name August Laurent. They suggested I hunt him down to do the very same thing. I was against it then. I’m still against it now.
“It would never work. The chance of running into Trevor in a city this size is slim to none. Hell, I haven’t even moved out of our apartment yet and today was the first time I’ve seen him since we broke up two weeks ago.”
He whips his head toward me, his brows pulled in. “Wait a minute. You’re still living with him?”
“Yeah.” Chewing on my lower lip, I shrug. “I figure if I don’t move out, he’ll realize how much he needs me in his life, how big of a mistake it was to walk away from me.”
Julian shakes his head, pinching the bridge of his nose before returning his impassioned gaze to me. “That’s exactly why you should have moved out by now. Don’t give him the satisfaction of knowing you’ll always be waiting for him.” He shoots to his feet and grabs my hand, tugging me off the park bench. I’m too off balance from the sudden movement to fight him. “Come with me. This appears to be a bigger task than I originally thought.”
I fight to keep up with his long strides as he leads me through the park. “Oh, really? And what makes you an expert in how to win back a boyfriend? Forgive me if I don’t see you as the romantic type.”
“You don’t think I’m romantic?”
“This shouldn’t come as a shock to you,” I argue, but am quickly cut off when he stops walking and yanks me against his hard body. Initially, I struggle in his arms, but when he leans toward me, his breath warming my neck, I melt, becoming a ball of clay in his rather capable hands. That spark is back, that unyielding rush of need filling me, urging me forward.
“You may not think I’m romantic,” he begins, his tone low and seductive. I exhale a shaky breath as my eyes roll into the back of my head, my nerve endings firing. “But if that’s the case, do you think I would have cared that you were no longer in my bed when I woke up the morning after our chance meeting?”
I stiffen, shooting my gaze to him.
“Because I did,” he continues, barely pausing for a beat. “For days, all I could think was I should have gotten your number. So I did what anyone would do in this digital age. I scoured Facebook to find you. I searched for anyone with every variation of the name Evie. Evelyn. Yvonne. Yvette. Everything remotely close to Evie, hoping I could track you down and see if…”
“If what?” Floating my eyes to his, I lose myself in deep pools of blue.
“If you feel this, too.”
His mouth inches closer to mine, the anticipation of feeling his lips on my tender flesh unhinging me in a way that erases all sense of what’s right. I’ve reverted to pure animalistic desire. No emotions. No reason. Just the urge to be satisfied.
“Feel what?” My heart pounds violently against the walls of my chest as I brace for his kiss, praying it will be as incredible as I imagine.
“How much you want to say yes to my little proposal.” Before I have a chance to react, he pulls away, straightening his jacket, acting as if he weren’t just about to kiss me.
I’m wound tight, a bundle of sensation in desperate need of release. It doesn’t help I’ve been celibate for two weeks. It’s the longest I’ve gone without sex since I met Trevor. That’s got to be why I’m ready to agree to anything. It’s desperation. That’s it. Nothing more.
Recovering quickly, I run my hands along my dress, fixing my expression. “Your proposal is ridiculous. In order for it to work, Trevor needs to see us together.”
He passes me a sly grin. “You really have no idea who I am, do you?”
“I know who you are.” I square my shoulders. “Your name’s Julian. Not Julius.”
Bemused, he smirks. “Do you know anything else?”
“Just the fact you must have a shit-ton of money, or at least a really wealthy sugar mommy…or daddy. I’m not one to judge.”
He chuckles, the corners of his eyes creasing. “Definitely no sugar mommy…or daddy. I can assure you of that.” When his laughter wanes, he narrows his gaze on me. “Suffice it to say, Trevor will hear about us. A lot of people will. They’ll all wonder about the mystery woman on my arm. It’s summer. Party season is under way in the Hamptons.”
“The Hamptons?” I swallow hard. I’d heard stories about those parties, mostly from Chloe, but you have to know someone to get an invitation. Hell, I’ve never even been north of Jones Beach on Long Island. The Hamptons is like a different world than what I know.
“Precisely. Men are protective and territorial by nature. In his mind, he can still stake a claim over you because you haven’t moved on. Attend enough of these parties on my arm, he’ll come to believe you have moved on. If his so-called ‘ownership’ over you is threatened, he’ll realize his mistake. He’ll never do that as long as you remain in his apartment, cook and clean for him, do his laundry like the status quo hasn’t changed. It has changed. And he needs to feel that change or he’ll never admit he fucked up. Trust me on this.”
I ponder his words for a moment, something not adding up. Maybe living in New York has made me more cynical. “I find it hard to believe any guy like you would proactively want to help a woman he’s slept with get back with her ex unless he wants a repeat. So, as enlightening as this entire conversation has been, it’s over. I’m not interested in a replay.” I turn from him, my legs not moving as fast as I wish they could.
“Evie, wait!” he calls, but I ignore him, continuing down the path. Then I hear him bellow, “We never slept together!”
I come to an abrupt stop, my pulse quickening. Passersby look in our direction, a few snickers and gasps ripping through the air, but I don’t pay them much attention, too shocked by his admission.
“What did you say?” I ask over my shoulder.
He advances toward me. “We never slept together.”
“But—” I square my shoulders, fully facing him.
“But
then why would you wake up in a strange man’s bed in just your bra and panties?”
I nod, still shell-shocked by this revelation.
“Because you threw up all over your damn dress… And my shoes.”
Embarrassment fills me as I close my eyes, cringing. “I did?”
“Sure did.”
“But how—”
“When I headed up to my place, I saw someone who looked alarmingly like this beautiful, charismatic woman I’d witnessed tell an entire bar about her breakup that evening. So, out of curiosity, I walked up to her. That’s when I overheard you say you were never going to drink again.”
“To which you said, ‘That’s probably a good idea.’”
He smiles. “I did. To which you responded by emptying the contents of your stomach.”
I bury my head in my hands. “Oh god. I really am never drinking again. I’m so sorry.”
His arms wrap around me…unexpected, yet comforting. I inhale a breath, my muscles relaxing at his familiar aroma. “It’s okay. We all have those nights where the only cure is bourbon or tequila. Nothing to be embarrassed about. Not the first time I’ve had someone throw up on me. And it probably won’t be the last.”
“Unless you have some sick fetish, it should be.” I tilt my head up at him. “You don’t have some weird fetish where you pay people to puke on you, do you? That’s not why you want to do this, is it?”
He chuckles as he drops his hold on me. “Certainly not. No sick fetishes here.” He raises his hand. “Scout’s honor.”
I pinch my lips. “Why do I get the feeling you were never a Boy Scout?”
“Very observant of you. I wasn’t.”
There’s a brief silence before I speak again. “So you saw me drunk on the street, then what? You decided to take care of me when the rest of the city just walked right by?”
“What can I say? I know how it feels to be overlooked, to think no one notices you. Plus, you’d just had a horrible night. The last thing you should do on your thirtieth birthday is spend it in the drunk tank at the local police precinct. I brought you back to my place to make sure you were okay, that you weren’t about to pass out and choke on your own vomit.”
