by C. M. Albert
I nodded, my insides shaking. I wanted to yell, No! Just one last time. But how could I? I had a feeling our marriage hinged on my answer, and I’d told Ryan what he wanted to hear.
As he took my hand and led me upstairs, instead of feeling happy, my heart was shattering. I thought of Brighton sleeping alone downstairs, his thoughts on me and when he could touch me again. Worst of all, after we showered and Ryan took me back to bed to make love to me again before we fell asleep, it was only Brighton I was imagining this time.
He might’ve been out of our bed physically, but the truth was, he’d never be out of it again.
Chapter 32
Brighton
DAMN I WAS a sucker for punishment. Last night I’d heard Olivia get up, but she never let Stitch outside. Instead, she sat on the porch swing in the sunroom, looking sad and thoughtful. Then Ryan came out to join her. They talked for a while, then the lights eventually went out. I could just barely make out their outlines as he made love to her.
I didn’t wait for them to finish. Instead, I went inside and took care of my loneliness and frustration. It had been over a week since I’d been with Olivia, and she was all I could think about. Now I was not only surrounded by her at their house, but at my uncle’s place, too. Her design touch was everywhere, from the paint colors, to the cabinets, to the appliances. She was like a ghost who took up residence, haunting me night and day.
I tossed and turned until I couldn’t take it anymore. As soon as the sun rose, I pulled on my work shorts and T-shirt, then took off for my uncle’s house. I needed to beat the shit out of something, and the garage would do. It hadn’t officially been on the docket to rehab before we sold. But now it was. I got out a sledgehammer and started slamming it into everything in sight. Dry wall went flying, and there were wires everywhere. I was going to strip it down to the bones.
I was in mid-swing when I saw Ryan from my peripheral vision, standing in the doorway staring at me. I pulled off my goggles and set the hammer down, my muscles flexing from the weight of it.
“Jesus, Kerrington.”
“What do you want?” I growled, not in the mood today.
Something had shifted, and I knew exactly what it was. Our time together was up. I knew it was coming—I just hadn’t wanted to face the sad reality of our situation: I was expendable to them.
“The same thing you do, probably. To release some of my demons. Can I join you?”
I grunted. “Just stay out of my way. I’m swinging to destroy, not to take this thing down pretty.”
“Just what I need,” he said, sliding goggles over his eyes and lifting his own sledgehammer he’d brought. “You woke the whole damn neighborhood. Figured we probably had the same demons to kill this morning.”
I cranked the music up, slid my goggles back down, and started smashing. Yeah, it was immature. And probably going to be costly. But I couldn’t stop. Everything I’d been feeling for the past six weeks boiled over.
The sight of Liv. The desire. At first, I thought it was one-sided, then she let me see into her soul, her eyes giving away the reciprocity of my feelings. But she was his. Always would be. And I hated it. Not because of who he was, but because of who I could never be to her.
I slammed the hammer down onto the workbench, loving the splintered, fragmented wood that shot out like quills across the garage. Ryan was beating down a rickety set of shelves, triumph washing over his face as it crumbled. I couldn’t help but smile. Demo day was one of my favorite things to do on a flip. Yeah, I mostly stuck to new builds, but that often involved tearing down what was already there. Building something new.
I was good at that.
The destruction was what I was good at.
We slammed our sledgehammers over and over again until there was hardly a single bit of the garage left standing, except the exterior frame. Everything inside was in splinters. We were drenched with sweat, and still, I didn’t feel much better.
Ryan yanked his goggles off, lifting his shirt up to wipe the sweat away. “Damn, I needed that.”
“Never got that punching bag?” I snickered.
“Not sure one would last if this is what I need to work through.”
“Ever think of going to see a therapist of your own?”
“Why? You think I need one?”
I raised a brow at him, then looked around.
“Touché,” he said. “But wouldn’t that mean you need one too?”
“Who says I don’t already have one?”
Ryan nodded. “We gonna be okay, Kerrington?”
I knew what he was asking. We’d been friends first, before I ever touched Olivia. I just didn’t know where my loyalty lived anymore. “Remember, it wasn’t me who asked for this. I told you that from the start.”
“Yeah, but we agreed to be honest, just like Liv and me. You ready to speak the truth?” he asked, challenging me with his dark brown eyes.
I lifted my chin. “I’m the one who asked for that, douchebag. I’ll be honest if you will.”
“You first.”
“Fine,” I said, dropping my sledgehammer to the floor and ripping off my gloves. “Is it over? Completely?”
Ryan pursed his lips, then nodded slowly. “I think it needs to be.”
I balled my fists, my jaw clenching. It wasn’t Ryan’s fault. Hell, I never expected more than one night. The problem was, I got so much more than that. And now, I wanted even more. I didn’t want this to end. Not with Liv. Not with any of us. I knew that was fucked up. It wasn’t something that could last forever. But it didn’t make me want it any less.
“Did you fall in love?” he asked.
He had to go there.
I crossed my arms over my chest. When I finally lifted my eyes to meet his, I didn’t need to say anything. He could read me like a book. “What made you ask?”
“I’m not stupid, Kerrington. Neither is Louie. He knew right away, for god’s sake.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, running my fingers through my wet hair. “I didn’t—”
“Save it.” He turned to leave.
“That’s it?”
“What else do you want? You can’t have her. She’s mine.”
“Trust me, I’m all too aware. You don’t have to shove it in my face even more, Ryan.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It was just a coincidence then that you fucked Liv on the porch last night, so anyone could see? So I could hear you?”
Ryan shrugged, a half-grin lifting his lips.
“Dick,” I said, crossing the garage.
“What? You gonna hit me now?” he asked, his chest puffing out as he took a step forward.
“You’re better than this. You wanted her light back? It’s back. Take it and leave.”
His chest deflated, and Ryan ran a hand over his face. “It’s harder than I thought it would be,” he admitted. “And I know none of this has been fair for you.”
“I never went into this thinking it would be fair.”
“Then why’d you agree to do it?”
“Because you asked me to, Ryan.”
“But you said you wouldn’t risk your heart to save hers,” he said, looking just as broken as I felt.
“Yeah, well, things changed.”
Ryan grimaced.
“Do you want me to fire her? Ask her not to come back over to help?”
“No!” he sputtered. “Just because I’m a jealous ass doesn’t mean that should affect Liv. She’s happier, Brighton. It pisses me off that it’s because of you. But she is happier.”
“It’s not just because of me, Ryan. You know that as well as I do. She’s happier because of us.”
“Well, she’s going to have to learn how to stay happy with just me. I don’t want to keep hurting you—it’s not fair now that feelings are involved. And you’re not the only one who has them,” he said.
“What does that mean?” Had she told him about the kiss? Wouldn’t she have warned me?
&n
bsp; Ryan pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and unfolded it several times. Then he tossed it to me before turning to leave.
“This is why, Kerrington.”
I looked down at the paper and saw a lifelike image of myself working on the bamboo kitchen countertop, shirtless and sweaty. I was engrossed in the task, but Liv had somehow managed to capture so much in these simple lines.
That’s when I realized, she saw all of me.
I looked up to say something to Ryan, but he was gone, leaving me alone with nothing but the evidence of Olivia’s feelings and absolutely nothing to do with them.
Chapter 33
Ryan
I STORMED INTO the kitchen, grabbing a Bubba canister and filling it with ice cold water, drinking the entire thirty-two ounces in one take. I needed to find Liv and tell her I was going into the office today. Movers were delivering my new desk, and I needed to go through some emails and catch up on paperwork before the new semester. I couldn’t believe school was starting again so soon.
My breath hitched as Liv rounded the corner. She was wearing a pair of jean shorts with the bottoms frayed. The white T-shirt she was wearing was slouchy, but tied into a knot front and center, drawing my eyes there and making me remember every naughty thing I’d done to her the night before.
Her baseball cap was pink and matched the dusty pink suede Adidas she was wearing. The V of her T-shirt neckline slouched low, and I couldn’t help but sneak a peek of her swelling bustline, wishing we were spending the day together instead.
“You going to Kerrington’s like that?” I asked, hating the way my accusation sounded, even to myself. She had a right to dress any way she wanted. I knew it didn’t drive her fidelity in any way. Still . . . she looked too damn cute.
“Yeah. What’s wrong with it?” she asked, looking disappointed as she glanced down.
Shit. That wasn’t my intention. “Nothing. You just look—hot. Too hot to be stuck inside installing a boring old tile ceiling today. Want to play hooky again? Go to our park or something?”
Her face relaxed, and I felt guilty knowing it was just my jealousy driving me.
“I wish I could. But you know this is one of the biggest installs left that I have a hand in before we stage the house.”
“He’s really that close to finishing?”
“I don’t think so. But the rest of the stuff he has on his punch list is more interior items that he doesn’t need my help with. By the way,” she said, pulling out a sample-sized can of paint from the bag she was carrying, “did you see what we picked for the outside of the house? We’re fairly sure this is the one we’re going with, but I want to try it out today. Let it dry and see how we like it. What do you think?”
She showed me the can of paint, her face alight with excitement. I didn’t mean to rain on her parade, but it was just a dark gray. “Gray?”
“It’s not just gray,” she said, as if that was so base of me. “It’s Roycroft Pewter.”
“Of course, it is. So silly of me,” I teased.
“And the best part is the front door.” She pulled another pint of paint from her bag and handed it to me. “Plum Suede. It’s going to be stunning!”
I scrunched my nose at the untraditional color. She could call it whatever she wanted, but it just looked like a dark purple to me. “Please tell me our front door is never going to be that color.”
“Not if our neighbor’s is,” she said. “Besides, the rich tones of this plum will look way better with the gray. It wouldn’t look as cohesive against white.”
“Thank god for small favors,” I teased because I loved the midnight black Liv painted ours when we first moved in. “So, you’re going to test the paint and install the tiled ceiling? That all?”
“Yep,” she said, not catching my tone. “Then I have a bereavement meeting tonight at the church around seven, if we’re done by then and I’m not too sweaty.”
“That’s ten hours away, Liv. I’m sure you can make time.”
“You’re right. It’s just that Brighton really wanted to finish up the library today.”
“Library?”
“Oh, I forgot he hasn’t shown it to you yet. He’s not renovating it, except to reinstall the original tile ceiling. He has all the original tin in his garage.”
“No, he doesn’t,” I said, knowing damn well the garage was empty this morning. “We demoed it this morning.”
“That explains why you’re so sweaty,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “I meant that’s where he found it. I’m sure it’s been cleaned and is in the library by now. You ought to pop by sometime and look at it. You’d love it, Mr. Professor.”
“I’d love to, but I’ll be out most of the day. Guess I’ll see you after you get home?”
“Sure,” she said, pecking my cheek on her way out. “Have fun setting up your new desk.”
“Thanks. Have fun yourself,” I said. Then I added, “But not too much fun,” before she slipped out the back door.
Kerrington better stick to his damn word, or the garage wouldn’t be all I’d be demoing.
Chapter 34
Olivia
BRIGHTON WAS NOWHERE to be found when I arrived, but his truck was in the driveway. It didn’t mean he was there, but at least I knew he’d get his tush over sooner or later. In the meantime, I painted a large, square patch on the front door with the dark plum I’d selected. I loved the rich, bold choice and hoped Brighton would too. He told me to go crazy and choose whatever complementary door color I wanted. Plum Suede it was.
Then I painted a similar-sized patch next to the door on the Hardie board siding with the “gray” paint, as Ryan called it.
“Roycroft Pewter. Great choice.”
I turned toward the sound of Brighton’s voice and grinned. He was standing on the front lawn in nothing more than his running shorts and the most magnificent set of abs ever. I forced myself to look away and finish painting the small patch.
“It should look beautiful together, especially with the black shutters,” I said.
“It’s already beautiful,” he answered. “You ready to do this thing?”
I wet my lips, pulling the bottom one in and biting it for a minute so I could collect myself. I was nervous to be alone with him again after the incident at Babalu’s. I took a deep breath and turned, smiling at him. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Let me just take a quick shower and change. Everything’s up there, and the crew should be, too. Why don’t you head up and get a jump start since you’re the mastermind anyway?”
“Yes, sir,” I said, playfully.
Brighton grabbed my wrist before I headed into the house. “Be careful, Liv,” he warned, his eyes smoky and unsettling. “I like the way you said that a little too much.”
“What? Sir?”
Brighton growled, and I wanted to laugh, but I knew this was torture for him. If it had been Ryan, I would’ve teased him further with the suggestive banter.
“I’m really sorry,” I said instead. “I know this can’t be easy on you.”
“You don’t know at all what it’s like for me,” he said, his eyes going from playful to serious just like that.
“Then tell me. Talk to me. We were friends first, weren’t we? That was real.”
“Are you saying everything else wasn’t?”
“No! That’s not what I’m saying at all. I just mean—our friendship doesn’t have to change, just because of what happened.”
“Because of what happened? You mean how you let me slide between your legs, Liv?” he said, his breath warm and close, sending goose bumps over my entire body. “Or how I tasted you? Touched you? Learned every inch of your body like my only job was to study its topography? Because of that? Is that what you meant?”
“Brighton—”
“Don’t. Just don’t. You have no clue what it’s like to wake up and smell you in your house. Then hear you and Ryan joking around in the kitchen, your laughter pulling me forward like a siren. But I can
’t have you anymore. You’re right there,” he said, his voice raspy and thick, “but I can’t touch you anymore. I can’t taste you again. It’s torture.
“I promised Ryan I would tell him if my feelings ever got in the way. And you know what? They’re in the fucking way. He was smart to cut this thing off—whatever it was between the three of us. Because you’re under my skin, Olivia. And the only thing stopping me from fucking you so hard you never want to let go is the fact that we were friends first. I know you’d instantly regret it. And I won’t be anyone’s mistake. I won’t.”
My lip was trembling, and I was on the verge of crying. Because he was right. I didn’t know what it was doing to him—I’d been worried about my own feelings toward him and how to navigate it all with Ryan. “I didn’t know you felt that strongly.”
“Bullshit!” he said. “You’ve felt it too. Every time I’ve stared into your soul. When I drove myself deep inside of you—your nails digging into my back for more. When I was finally able to kiss you alone. That—that’s what’s going to hold me over after all of this is behind me. Because I know damn well, whether you can ever say it or not, that you feel it too. That’s my only consolation.”
He moved in even closer and pulled me flush against his chest. “I know you feel it, Liv. Say it.”
I shook my head, looking away. I stared at the new oil-rubbed, bronze planters stuffed full of cheery, purple tulips on the front porch, trying to hold the tears in. I wished I could tell him that he was right. Of course he was right. But I was married, and I could never say those words back.
Or worse, give him false hope.
His eyes followed mine to the graceful flowers. Then he lifted my chin, so I was forced to face him. But I kept my eyes down, unable to meet his. Because he was right. I couldn’t help what my heart wanted. And it wanted Brighton. The only problem was it wanted Ryan, too. And I couldn’t live without him. But I was starting to worry I wouldn’t be able to live without Brighton either.
