Forever With You: A Contemporary Romance (You and Me Series Book 4)

by Tia Lewis

  He pulled away, taking a large step back. My lips were still parted, and my mind churning, unable to land on anything except warm cinnamon and oh my God over and over again.

  “I’ll see you,” he said after a beat, his tongue darting out to run against the length of his bottom lip.

  I was helpless to do anything but watch, reminiscing the feeling of warmth from his lips on my tongue, and his hand on my neck. He walked to the door, glancing over his shoulder one last time with a piercing glance before leaving my apartment.

  The door closed behind him, and I turned, slowly, staring at the wood on the floor. I don’t even think I blinked, or breathed, or anything, for what seemed like an eternity.

  My fingertips grazed over my lips. “Oh, my God.”

  Jade

  Kyle’s was busy open to close nearly every day, save Christmas. But, like any business, some days were better than others, and I knew with a certainty that the town’s impending Homecoming parade would mean the diner would have a huge rush around breakfast time, and then it would be dead for the rest of the day. It was something that used to bug me because as much as I liked a bit of downtime, I liked paying my bills much more.

  But this year—knowing that I’d have hours of quiet time to ponder Grayson—well, it didn’t sting quite so much.

  Working quickly through the morning rush, flipping flapjacks with a speed that would have made my uncle proud, I wanted to get the usuals out just in case Grayson showed up. He seemed to be the only thing I ever thought about anymore. Not that I knew he was going to show up or anything—but—just on the off chance, I’d be ready.

  And even though he was only going to be in town for three months and was so painfully famous and out of my league; I didn’t give a shit. Three months was going to have to be enough.

  I had a terrible time finding my way to work the day before since I was so lost in the thought. That damn kiss. Where’d he learn to kiss like that? Probably on some set, with some beautiful co-star whose beauty I couldn’t even hold a candle to. Fuck, what if I was a terrible kisser?

  Jesus Christ.

  It was probably terrible, and he’d never come back to see me, because if a kiss is terrible, then sex wouldn’t be so far off that mark. It had taken everything in me not to tell Madeline everything when she’d gotten home from the bookstore the night before, but the heavy knot in my stomach stopped me. What if I told her and then Grayson never came to the diner again? Then Madeline would always know that I was such a bad kisser, I’d run a celebrity out of town.

  If Grayson did come in today, I was going to fix that shit. I was going to stuff my nerves in a box, lock them away, and show him what the fuck I was capable of. I could do it.

  After ushering the last customer out before the parade was set to start, I sank into a chair at the corner table, running my finger down the scratch as my thoughts slipped back to my uncle. I’m sure he would’ve thought that Grayson was a nice guy, and maybe given me his blessings, even though he wasn’t really into outsiders.

  “Going to make a dent in that chair,” the other cook said as he passed by.

  “Huh? Oh.” It was ridiculous, how much I thought about Grayson. We’d barely spoken and had barely seen each other, but I felt like I’d known him forever. There was just something different about him—something fuller, and I couldn’t pretend it wasn’t there, even if I wanted to. He was radiant. Could a woman call a man radiant without emasculating him? I shrugged. Oh, well, he was fucking radiant. I probably just shouldn’t say it to his face.

  A hard buzz made me jump. It was my damn phone vibrating in my pocket. Shaking my head, I pulled it out and took a look at the screen.

  “Hey, Alana.”

  She huffed loudly, and she winced before she even started the conversation. “Jade.”

  “What’s up?”

  “What’s up?” she echoed, incredulously.

  I looked around frowning.

  “What’s up is that you’ve been dodging my calls.”

  “Oh.” I relaxed in the chair, propping my legs up on the table. “No, I haven’t.”

  Well, I kind of had been, but only because I didn’t want to talk about Grayson and I knew she wanted to ask me about him. “You have been,” she accused.

  “Nope,” I defended, still lying. “I’ve just been busy.”

  “Oh.” She perked up. “With what? Or should I ask with whom?”

  I scoffed, but couldn’t stop myself from peeking out the window. There was no sign of him. “Don’t be ridiculous, Alana.”

  She laughed, the sound a bit too loud through the telephone. “Okay, okay. Fine. I’m really just calling to remind you about Friday.”

  “I’m not going to forget about Todd’s birthday.”

  “You did last year,” she muttered.

  “One year. Crucify me, why don’t you.”

  “And the year before that.”

  I fought back a groan. “Things are different now. I’m—”

  “Yeah, you’re different now,” Alana sassed. “I get it. I’m just reminding you.”

  Drumming my fingers on the table, I replied, “I won’t forget. I’ll be there.”

  “Seven o’clock?”

  “Seven o’clock.”

  The little bell above the door sounded, and my head shot up. My mouth dried up the instant I saw Grayson step through the door, pulling off his sunglasses as his gaze swept the room. He grinned when he saw me sitting at the table.

  “I’ve got to go,” I said quickly. “Customers.” I ended the call and jammed the phone into my pocket, struggling to get up with my legs still on the table. Thankfully, though, I didn’t fall in front of him again.

  Grayson

  “Didn’t have to end your call, you know,” I said.

  She looked wonderful, and I wanted to walk across the room and kiss her like I had the day before, but I held back. I was going to try to be a gentleman with her, but the way she sassed me, I just couldn’t make that promise to her or myself.

  She swallowed heavily. “I wanted to.”

  “It’s usually busier than this, isn’t it?” I asked, looking around.

  “We’re on a bit of a lull,” she explained. “Because of the parade and all. Small towns and their traditions, you know.”

  I nodded and stepped further into the diner, dropping my sunglasses on the counter. I followed her, stopping when I was only a few feet away. I closed the distance some, my smile widening as the smell of her perfume caught my attention.

  “I wanted to apologize,” I said.

  “For what?”

  I reached toward her, her fingers curling around my waist. Her face softened, and her eyelashes fluttered against the apples of her cheeks.

  “The other day.”

  Her face flushed and she looked away. My eyes narrowed on her mouth—my gruff words coming out too delicate when I realized she must’ve been thinking I’d regretted kissing her.

  I responded quickly to let her know I thought nothing of the sort, “I’m sorry I made you fall.”

  “Oh! The fall.”

  “What did you think I was talking about?”

  “Oh, nothing,” she said, backing away. “Nothing at all.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course, I’m sure. I know what I was thinking. I don’t need you to interrogate me.”

  I held my hands in the air. “I surrender.”

  “And I’m sorry, too.”

  “For what?”

  “Well, it wasn’t my best work?”

  My eyes widened, “Excuse me?” Was she trying to tell me that kiss wasn’t her best work? If it wasn’t, I’d love to see what was, because I hadn’t stopped thinking about it since it happened.

  “I feel so stupid to even be saying this.”

  “What?”

  “That damn kiss. I don’t think I did a very good job, and—well—I’m going to need a do-over.”

  I’d never heard a woman ask for a do-over, but then a
gain, I’d never met a woman like her.

  I bit my bottom lip, cheeks puffing a bit as I fought back a grin. Taking a step closer, I hesitated only a moment before putting my palm against her neck, pulling her close to me—her heart hammering against my chest so heavily, I couldn’t tell where her heart beat stopped, and mine started.

  I didn’t need to be told twice. “Then I guess we’re just going to have to fix that.”

  Her arms wound around my waist, drawing me in as close as she could get to me, lifting herself up on her toes to touch her mouth to mine. She kissed me softly at first, just like at the apartment, but as I parted my lips a bit, she arched up, tightening her hands around my back, deepening our kiss.

  The kiss wasn’t a battle of warring tongues—neither of us fighting for domination. It was more of a dance that we both knew the steps to. Push hard here—push hard here—give in there—melt together just right. By the time my lungs were screaming for a breath, she let her lips trail down my jawline to the soft skin on my neck, kissing gently as she moved.

  I growled a little as I rolled my neck, letting her lips rove about. She moved away, and I could no longer feel her lips on my skin. I wasn’t going to let it end early again. Grabbing her quickly, I crashed my lips against hers, pressing my hand against the side of her neck, rubbing my thumb against her cheek.

  Jade

  I could’ve died a happy woman right there. His fingers tightened around a fistful of my hair—I gasped—my body shuddering at the tight tug.

  His kiss was like fire and vindication all wrapped up with one sweet bow, melting on my tongue like chocolate.

  “Grayson,” the name was wrapped in a moan I couldn’t hold back.

  He pulled away, letting me stare into his bright eyes. “Jade.”

  I was in a trance—my fingertips yearning to reach out and pull him closer. The moment was passing as we drew ragged breaths. Why wasn’t he saying anything?

  Say something or kiss me!

  We were alone in the diner, and I wanted to take full advantage of it.

  “Well?” I cleared my throat and took a step back. He still didn’t say anything.

  The moment was so awkward, and I wanted to say something, but the only thing I could think of was, “Coffee?”

  Fuck, I am such a fucking waitress!

  He nodded. “Decaf.”

  He slid onto a stool as I slipped behind the counter, trying my best to hide my shaking hands while I loaded a fresh pot of coffee.

  “Anything else?” I asked lightly, peeking over to take in his breathtaking company.

  He looked up with wide eyes and a smile that was a bit too tight. “Nope.”

  “Good.” I turned the coffee pot on, listening to the churn as it brewed. My shoulders fell a little, and my pulse started to beat in a less frantic flow. “I don’t feel like wasting our time together by cooking.”

  “Well, at least I know you can cook. Most of the women…” his words trailed.

  “Most of the women, what?”

  “They have cooks, and they can barely make a peanut butter jelly sandwich.”

  “What kind of women do you date?”

  “Models, usually.”

  I chuckled. “Well, that explains it.”

  “What?”

  “Models don’t eat. If I don’t build buildings, why would I need to learn how to?”

  “I don’t think it’s as dramatic as all that.”

  I didn’t reply except to continue laughing at my own joke.

  The school parade could still be heard from outside, and it was already a few blocks down. The music was peppered with screaming, chatter, laughter, and bouts of trumpets.

  Grayson

  She poured me the steaming cup of coffee.

  “For you, Mr. Sparling,” she handed me a few packs of sugar, and I ripped them open to pour them all in.

  “Thank you,” I muttered, taking a long sip.

  I grimaced a little and sat it back down, unwinding my fingers from the mug. “Really hot. Good, though.”

  “Thank you,” she said as she began to rub at a stubborn stain on the counter.

  I took another sip of coffee, sloshing some onto my fingers when I set the cup down. Absentmindedly, I raised my hand to lick the coffee off. I caught the disgusting habit right away, but she had already seen.

  Fuck.

  It wasn’t the smoothest of moves.

  She paused. “Let me ask you something.”

  I perked up as the words flew out of her mouth. “Okay.” I leaned forward, perking my brows, creating wrinkles on my forehead.

  Instinctively, she leaned forward and smoothed them out with her fingers. Her touch was warm, and as we stared at each other, she ran her fingers over my cheekbones and down my jaw, finding her way to the small curls at the nape of my neck.

  “Would you consider going out with me?”

  “Yes,” I replied without hesitation.

  “Yes?” her voice squeaked a little.

  Straightening my posture, I tilted my head to the side.

  “Yes,” I repeated to make sure she knew I was sure. I hadn’t planned to start something with her but damned if I could stay away.

  Jade

  Wringing the dish towel tightly in my hands, I grinned as we briefly stared at one another—but the spell was broken when the bell above the door rang out.

  Grayson fell onto the stool, and I jumped, my face wrought with guilt. The family that stumbled in hadn’t noticed our shared moment as they threw themselves at the largest table in the nearly empty diner.

  “I’m going to go. Call me later,” he said, hopping off the stool and grabbing his sunglasses to leave. He walked quickly out the door.

  Jade

  Life had always been a bit of a blur ever since I’d moved to my uncle’s house, but the upheaval was made a little easier since Alana, and I already had a pretty solid relationship from growing up together and the countless sleepovers throughout the years. Uncle Kyle was everything I thought a dad should be, and my own mom was everything Alana knew a mother shouldn’t be. But by the time I turned fifteen, I knew that Alana and I didn’t quite fit anymore—Alana with her preppy boyfriend and high ponytails, and me with my baggy clothes and a scowl that even the teachers retreated from.

  But then when I turned seventeen, my mom was gone, and things changed. Working in the diner, really working, helped. I hated it, at the time, hated having to give away my weekends to a sullen uncle and annoying customers. But eventually, I realized that Kyle wasn’t punishing me; he was giving me something solid. It had been so unfamiliar that I didn’t recognize it as anything but hard.

  I was eighteen the first time I kissed a boy. We were drunk, and the boy’s lips tasted like spiced rum. Not bad, but not great. By nineteen, I was working full time, begging my uncle for weekends off and the secret ingredient to the pancakes: Kyle never gave me either.

  Alana was married when the boys were one, and she was twenty-two. Her dad died when she was twenty-four. She spent her twenty-fifth birthday drunk in the storage room.

  The years were smashed together, with one or two bright spots decipherable in my memory. I had gotten used to things being blurry, to the years passing by so quickly I spent most of my time running to catch up.

  But suddenly, with the addition of Grayson Sparling in my life, things were suddenly much clearer.

  And, unfortunately, slower. Each hour ticked so slowly as I waited for the phone to ring or the bell to announce Grayson’s arrival. It was a nice note to end on the other day, Grayson’s cheeky grin and flippant “Call me later,” but the reality fell flat. He hadn’t given me his number, and he hadn’t been by the diner since the day of the parade. I was starting to feel like I never should have asked him out in the first place.

  I didn’t really know what I was thinking when I asked Grayson Sparling to go on a date. The man was a celebrity, his face plastered on billboards and magazines. He was a movie star who could have anyone in the wor
ld, any Hollywood A-Lister or regular Jane, and I guess I had some audacity to think he’d want to be seen with me. Sure, Grayson had kissed me—but that didn’t have to mean anything. In fact, it probably didn’t. It had probably been a spur of the moment decision that Grayson regretted and that was why he purposefully didn’t give me his number and hadn’t returned to the diner.

  But even though I was pretty certain that was the truth of it, I couldn’t help but hope. So the days dragged by slowly and my chest nearly exploded every time a customer walked in. I hated how clear life suddenly was. I had pretty much convinced myself that Grayson was done with me.

  I almost told Alana about it when I came in for my shifts, but I managed to keep my mouth busy by shoveling in my lunch at a rapid pace. She’d looked at me a little wearily but hadn’t pressed me too far.

  I waited two full days before starting to panic. By the time the fourth day came, I decided I didn’t care at all if Grayson ever showed up. I spent the morning cooking pancakes and omelets and the afternoon had a huge little league baseball team rush, so I made a dozen patty melts and too many orders of fries. By the time Alana showed up, I was grimy from the fry grease and pissed that my heart sped up each time the bell to my own diner rang.

  “You look terrible,” Alana said, instead of a greeting. She rolled her eyes and passed me as she entered the kitchen, delivering a few plates and grabbing some dishes to bus the table. The diner was bustling; I was thankful. I couldn’t obsess over a kiss with a tall, handsome celebrity if I was busy washing dishes and flipping burgers.

  A woman reached out, smiling. “Can I have some coffee, dear?”

  “Right away, ma’am,” I shot her a smile before darting in the back to drop off the dishes. I ignored Alana’s pointed stare in exchange for grabbing a new mug and filling it to the brim, delivering it to the table with the woman.