He Belongs With Me

by Sarah Darlington

  “Some bar. Anyway, want to come meet me?”

  “I can't. I'm in Blue Creek.”

  “Fuck Blue Creek.”

  I giggled. “So what are you doing at some bar?”

  I could barely hear him over the background noise. “I'm out with Vince and Tony,” he shouted. “We're getting drunk and I wish you were here. What are you doing?”

  He wished I were there? I tried not to read too much into that statement. I knew he'd had some sort of fight with Clara. Maybe he wished I were there because he needed a friend. Yeah, that was probably it. “I'm hiding in a closet, talking to you. Robby is having dinner with us. He has a daughter. They're both out on the back deck right now and I'm in the closet.”

  Thunk! It sounded as if Leo fell from his chair and onto the floor. He did that sometimes when he got tipsy. “Mags! I told you to wait for me. I told you I would take care of him. What the hell is he doing at your house?”

  “Good question. It's been a crazy day.”

  “I'll say. Well, get out of the closet and tell that fucker to go home. Don't say ‘fucker.’ Not with his daughter there and all, but go tell him to get his ass off your back deck—I mean it. He has no right to be there. He lost that right a long time ago.”

  “Where's Clara?” I asked. The question just sort of popped out of my mouth. I didn't want to talk about her, but I needed to know what had happened between them. And I sure didn't want to talk about Robby a second longer.

  “Brooklyn.”

  “That's a vague answer. Elaborate, please.”

  The line went quiet for a moment, as if Leo had hit the mute button. He must have gone outside because when he came back on, his voice was much clearer. “I don't know what the hell I'm doing. You should have seen the way she ran away from me on the subway today...like I butchered her dog.” He let out a noise that could only be described as a growl. “Dammit. There's such a fine line between love and hate. Do you think it’s possible to fall for someone after you've spent a lifetime hating them?”

  He used the ‘l-word’ and it sat like rotten food in my stomach. But the ‘h-word’ gave me a strange sense of hope. If he hated her so much, then how could he possibly love her? “I'm not sure if it's because you're drunk or what, but what kind of question is that? If you love someone, you just love them. Flaws and all. You can't hate someone and love them at the same time—it doesn't work that way. Love is all or nothing. Sometimes your own issues get in the way, but once you strip away all the noise, you find that there is just love underneath.”

  “Who knew you were so insightful? So what you're saying is...if Clara likes me, then it's not possible for her to genuinely hate me at the same time? It's an either/or kind of thing?”

  Say what? I thought we were talking about Leo's feelings for Clara here, not the other way around. And then it dawned on me—Leo was asking me all of this because he was serious about Clara. Oh. My. God. But he was my best-friend! Why hadn't he fallen for me instead of her? What if he only loved Clara because I'd always been unavailable? What if my opportunity to make him mine had already come and gone years ago? What if it was passing me by right this moment?

  “I have to go,” he said suddenly, not waiting for my response any longer. “There's somewhere I need to be. Now go tell Robby to get off your deck. Please. I'll see you tomorrow and we can deal with him together. Okay?”

  “Okay.” I'd have to wait for tomorrow. I hoped it wouldn't be too late to tell him how wrong Clara was for him and how right I was. “Always,” I choked out.

  “Always.” Then he hung up.

  Getting off the phone with him, my emotions were yo-yoing all over the place. On the one hand, I loved how it felt like he was right here with me, always looking out for me, even when he was hundreds of miles away. But then every time he said something nice about my sister, it made my heart hurt. To make matters worse, now I had to go back outside and force myself to make polite conversation with Robby, who just informed me that he wanted us to be friends.

  Suddenly, I felt exhausted and in no mood to talk to anyone. “I'm not feeling well,” I announced, as I peeked my head back outside. “I'm going to go lie down.” I forced a smile for Valerie, closed the sliding glass door and walked away without looking anyone in the eye.

  I grabbed a glass of water as I passed through the kitchen and then headed to our media room, where I could be alone with my convoluted thoughts. I'd just curled up on the couch and flipped on the television when Robby came into the room. The glow of the TV danced across his handsome face. He sat down beside me, not bothering to ask if he could, and then he pulled my legs up onto his lap. He moved to rest his legs on the coffee table, snuggling in a little closer to me. Whoa. Friends sure as heck didn't snuggle on coaches.

  “So what was that all about?” he asked, sounding genuinely interested. “You were fine up until you got that phone call.”

  I sighed, shifting my attention back to the TV. An old rerun of Friends happened to be playing. “Clara and Leo drama,” I said, intentionally keeping my answer vague.

  “I guess not much has changed then.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He rested his head on the back of the sofa. “Same story then. Same story now. Leo pining over Clara and doing nothing. I know he has his issues and thinks she hates him, but here's the kicker. Clara's always been just as caught up with Leo as he has been with her. I tried way back when to convince him but never could.”

  How could Robby possibly know all of this? He'd only been with us for three short months. “You're wrong. When you lived with us, Clara liked you. Never Leo.”

  He shrugged. “Maybe Clara wanted to like me. I think maybe she tried to push her focus toward anyone but Leo and I was the closest target, but she secretly had feelings for him. I could tell then and I could tell the other night. When a person pretends not to care as much as Clara does, it's obvious they do care.”

  Growing annoyed at the direction this conversation had gone, I pushed up on my elbows. My eyes connected with Robby's through the semi-darkness. “You honestly believe that?”

  “Yes. Maybe she doesn't even consciously know it, but why else do you think there is so much friction between her and Leo? And between you and her? The question I'm most interested in though is…when did you fall in love with Leo?”

  I gasped. “I'm not—” I moved my legs off him and jumped off the couch. “I'm not in love with Leo,” I declared. “That's insane.”

  “It's okay that you are.”

  “I'm not!”

  “Please, don't lie to me.”

  I wasn’t lying…I didn’t know how on earth I felt right now except confused. I buried my face in my hands, feeling ten kinds of defeated. “I don’t even know what I’m feeling right now, so how could you?” I challenged and then paused, knowing he probably wasn’t the best person to ask my next question. Then again, it’s not like I could ask Leo. “But if I did love him, what should I do?”

  “Fight for him.” Robby peeled my hands away from my face and then tilted my chin up toward him, forcing me to look him in the eyes. “Leo is yours. He's your best friend, not Clara's. And maybe Leo's had a crush on her his whole life, but that doesn't mean things can't change. You know him better than anyone and I know you have a place in his heart too. It's not too late, Maggie. Believe me, I know all about regrets and you can't let this moment pass without fighting for what you want. If you decide to go after Leo, I can't promise that everything will work out and you'll get your happy ending. But maybe you will. So, ask yourself...is Leo worth the risk?”

  I swallowed hard. As Robby’s words sunk in, I knew what I had to do—I needed to fight for Leo. And I was going to have to make him mine before things went any further between him and Clara. Because the answer to Robby’s question was clear—Leo was worth the risk.

  CHAPTER 14

  CLARA

  Darkness hugged every corner of Steph's tiny room. The only light that could be seen came from the red glow
of her alarm clock, and I swear the damn thing was mocking me. I had an early flight to catch and needed to catch some serious zzz’s, but time just kept slipping away and with it, all opportunities to get a decent night's rest.

  12:00 A.M.

  1:00 A.M.

  2:00 A.M.

  As tired as I felt, I couldn't get my brain to calm the hell down. For the second night in a row, I listened to Steph saw away at some serious logs, and every time I closed my eyes, I saw Leo's beautiful blue eyes. Damn him. Damn those eyes. They were driving me freaking insane. Why wouldn't my brain let it go—let him go?

  I knew I had made a rational decision when I ditched him on the subway, even if rational wasn't my usual style. Leo and I were about as different as two people could get and we didn’t want any of the same things out of life. He wanted to follow in his father's footsteps, and I wanted to run like hell from anything even remotely resembling my father's footsteps. Now Maggie and Leo together—that made sense. They both liked money, clothes, and other materialistic bullshit. And more importantly, they got along, whereas Leo and I couldn't go a day without fighting. So why did I feel so shitty about this? Ugh! Double ugh!

  A little after two in the morning, sleep finally started to take its hold on me. I felt my eyelids go heavy and my thoughts began to blur. And that was when I sprang out of bed, wide awake all over again.

  I had to call Leo. I just had to. I wished I could pretend this weekend never happened. To act as if that one kiss hadn't changed everything between us. To face every future holiday as if he meant absolutely nothing to me. But the simple reality was…I couldn’t ignore what my heart wanted.

  At that exact moment, I heard a noise outside Steph’s front door.

  Tap. Tap. Tap.

  I stumbled into the living room through the darkness. Forgetting the fact that this was New York City and that it was the middle of the night and it was someone else’s apartment, I reached for the doorknob and yanked open the door.

  Leo.

  On the door step.

  My breath hitched in my throat as his steel-blue eyes—barely illuminated by the street lights—took me in.

  I should have considered my appearance before opening the door because I was dressed in only a tank top and a pair of panties. My hair was down, covering my shoulders, and I'm sure I looked as if I just rolled out of bed. I had just rolled out of bed. Leo didn't seem to care though. Instead of looking at me like I was a mess, he looked at me like he wanted to devour me alive.

  Neither of us moved nor spoke. Leo had changed from earlier and was now wearing shorts and a t-shirt tight enough to show off his chest muscles beneath. Before seeing his naked backside the other morning, I never knew what he had going on underneath because he never wore clothes that even hinted at anything. Or maybe he was right when he said I’d never bothered to notice. But right now I noticed and couldn't seem to stop myself from staring a little too hard and a little too long.

  Leo exhaled a slow breath and rubbed one hand over the back of his neck. That same move! Now I knew what it meant. He was nervous and those nerves had everything to do with me. I loved the effect I seemed to have on him. I waited for his eyes to drift up my body and find mine, and when they did, nothing could have prepared me for the way my heart slammed inside my chest. Damn those eyes. They took my breath away and made the empty space between us feel like miles.

  I don't know who made the initial move, but in the very next second his lips were on my lips and we were kissing, wildly and desperately. I was shocked to find that I was just as hungry for him as he was for me. Leo backed me against the door frame, his demeanor turning all 'take-no-prisoners' as he pinned me in place with his hips. His hands traced up and down the curve of my body until they wound their way through the loose strands of my hair. He was in control, I was totally at his mercy, and I. Didn’t. Even. Care.

  Leo's mouth moved from mine and he kissed a trail down my neck. I tipped my head to the side, giving him all the access he wanted. The initial force behind his kisses began to dissipate. All the passion remained, but everything slowed down and turned super sweet, super cherishing, and super loving.

  “Don't ever run away from me like that again,” he said against my neck. “You can talk to me. You can always talk to me, okay? It's not like I'm going to bite.” And then, much to my surprise, he dragged his teeth along my skin and bit me gently.

  I squealed and gave his chest a playful smack. “You ass!”

  “Whatever. You like it.”

  Leo still had me pinned in place. His hips were square with mine and the evidence of his arousal pressed unapologetically into my belly. I rubbed my hands up and over his shoulders, pausing at his neck. Leo studied me for a couple of long moments, and then the next thing I knew we were kissing again.

  I could have kissed him for hours but he abruptly pulled away, asking breathlessly, “Inside?” I nodded against him and his hands slid down my back to grab my ass. He lifted me up, my bare legs wrapping around his waist, and he walked us over the threshold. The inside of Steph's apartment was pitch black, but Leo still led us into the unknown. Where did he think we were going to go? I was too caught up in the moment to worry about specifics and only focused on peppering him with kisses as he walked.

  Leo's leg banged into the coffee table. “Shit.”

  “Couch.”

  I said the word and then—as if the couch suddenly had a homing beacon inside it—Leo located it in an instant. He lowered me down onto the cushions and then covered me with his body. I absolutely loved the feel of him on top of me. He held most of his weight off of me, but the feel of his chest pressed tightly to mine, all encompassing, did funny things to my already racing heart. My legs locked back around him and I shifted to line up all of our good parts.

  Leo wanted me and I wanted him right back. The reality of it all had me so hot that I knew, without a doubt, I was ready to give up my virginity. It wasn't just about timing or hormones or lust—it was about Leo. Even though he and I sure as shit didn't make sense, I realized in that moment...who cared? To hell with making sense. My heart wanted what it wanted, and there was no mistaking that the guy on top of me was at the top of that list.

  But Leo had other plans. He shifted his weight off me and moved to sit at the other end of the couch. Really? I pushed up to my elbows, ready to scratch his eyes out. Seconds after I figured out what I wanted—ready to cross a very big line with him—and he moves off me? What the hell?

  “What are you doing?” My words had a warning laced through them. I couldn't quite see his eyes through the darkness and I'd never needed to see them more. “Get back over here, please.”

  “I can't.”

  “Then what do you even want? You're confusing the hell out of me.”

  “I just want you,” he said, sincerity laced through his words. “I want you more than my next breath.”

  My heart began to thump even harder than it already was. I opened my mouth to speak but he kept talking.

  “Believe me, Clara. It would be very easy to lay you back down, ease myself inside you, and fuck you senseless. But I can't just screw you on some random couch where anyone could walk in on us. And I can't screw you while the room is spinning and I'm slightly shitfaced. I don't even want to screw you. I want to make love to you. The slow, sweet, all night long kind of love.” He sighed and buried his face in his hands for a moment. “I can't believe I just said that out loud, but...” he paused and looked back up at me, “it's true.”

  My mouth went dry—talk about brutal honesty. I didn't know what to say or how to react. Sitting statue still, I stared at him and found that all I really wanted was for him to wrap his arms around me again.

  “Say something, Clara.”

  I swallowed hard and then answered him. “Get back over here, please.”

  He groaned. “I just told you why I can't.”

  “I know and I'm not asking you to screw me. I've spent a lifetime not touching or holding you...and I really w
ant to now. Besides, it's kind of cold over here without you.”

  He moved back to me in a heartbeat. Our legs tangled together as we adjusted and got comfy. He ended up on his side and I nuzzled in close to his body, my head resting in the nook of his arm. I couldn’t believe we fit together so perfectly. He didn't kiss me on the lips anymore, but the way his mouth ran along my jaw and his fingers tenderly traced over my stomach just under my tank top, I could tell he still wanted to.

  “Can I stay the night?” he whispered.

  “I assumed you were going to.”

  “Good.” He sat up briefly, yanked off his shirt, and then lay back down. He used his shirt to cover as much of my legs as he could. “Are you still cold?”

  There’s a fat chance in hell any woman could be cold pressed up against Leo's naked chest. “I'll manage, thanks.” His arms squeezed me tighter and I buried my face into his warm, hard chest. He smelled like Leo, which made me think of Blue Creek and my childhood. It was a smell so familiar and yet, up until a few moments ago, so forbidden that I couldn't seem to stop myself from breathing him in.

  “I might be a little drunk and imagining things, but are you sniffing me?”

  “Nope.”

  “It kind of feels like you are.”

  “Nope.” I sniffed dramatically just to mess with him. “You know what's weird?” I said a few minutes later as we both were starting to drift off to sleep. I'd been trying my hardest to stay awake, but the late hour had finally caught up with me. “I can never tell when you're drunk and when you aren't.”

  “That's because I'm usually faking it.”

  Say what? “What's that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that every time you see me with one of those Gibson Martinis—the kind with the onion that I'm always drinking—it's really just water. Douglas at the club is cool. He hooks me up.”

  That had to be the most ridiculous thing I'd ever heard. And I'd heard him spew some pretty random craziness out of his mouth over the years. Leo, borderline alcoholic, was really a fake drunk? I still didn't understand. “Does that mean you were sober when I hit you with the golf cart?”