by E. R. Wade
“Okay. I’ll call you tomorrow. I don’t want to interrupt your sex – I mean make up – session tonight,” she teases.
Finally able to smile, I say, “Thanks, Mia.”
“Anytime, darling. Have fun tonight,” she says, and then ends the call.
I take a deep breath, relieved to see that we’re a couple of blocks away from home and Luke will soon be here.
Minutes later, I’m opening the door to the building when I hear my name. Luke. I turn slowly to face him, my heart beating faster than I’d like. He doesn’t say anything. He stares at me with such burning intensity that I almost squirm. I can’t read a single thing from his expression, but I sense there’s some strong emotion simmering underneath his calm façade.
“Why did you leave like that?” His voice is almost flat.
“I was surprised to see you at the bar,” I say, trying to match his tone.
“Amber is just a friend. There’s no reason for you to be upset.”
Maybe not, but why is he being so damned distant? There isn’t any point denying I was upset since I made it obvious. He knows it bothered me to see him with another woman, yet he’s standing here being so unaffected and unemotional. What is it with this man?
“You didn’t call me,” I say, needing to hear a good explanation or an apology for what is undoubtedly responsible for putting me in a funk in the first place.
“I was busy.”
What the . . .? That’s his explanation?
I can’t stop the next words that come out of my mouth. “But not too busy to take women out to bars,” I mutter angrily.
I see impatience flash in his eyes. “I didn’t take anyone anywhere. Besides, you and I aren’t exclusive.”
I suck in a deep breath and rein in the hurt, disappointment and anger swirling in me. At the bar, I thought my heart had shattered with the pain of seeing him with her but that’s nothing compared to what I’m feeling now. Luke has just stomped viciously on my heart.
I don’t want him to see how much he’s hurt me but it’s hard to hold it in. I turn around and open the front door, and then turn back to him. He’s taken a couple of steps closer.
“You’re right. We’re not.” I slam the door in his face and engage the lock with a loud click.
“Ana.” He knocks loudly on the door. “Ana, open the door.”
I ignore him and almost run up the stairs. As soon as I get to my door, I enter into my apartment and lock the door. Breathing heavily, I drop my bag on the floor and sit on the couch. Luke is right, we aren’t exclusive. I shouldn’t have forgotten that. I shouldn’t have forgotten that he doesn’t date, he doesn’t do commitment and he doesn’t want a girlfriend. If I hadn’t forgotten, I wouldn’t be feeling so heartbroken right now. A tear slides down my cheek and I quickly wipe it away.
Do not cry. Do not cry. Do not cry. I keep repeating the three words but it isn’t working because tears are streaming down my face. I grab a tissue from my bag and try to convince myself that Luke isn’t worth my tears, but that doesn’t work too. So I try thinking about work, about everything on my schedule tomorrow and on Saturday. It’s a good thing I had planned to be in the office this weekend. It means I won’t sit at home thinking about Luke. I don’t know how long I sit staring at my white ceiling. I’m startled when I hear a knock. Luke. I know he’s the one. I stay still, staring at my front door. He knocks again.
“Ana, I know you can hear me.”
I’m barely breathing. I’m waiting to see what he’ll say or do next.
He knocks again. This time it’s louder. “Come on, Ana. Open the door and let’s talk about this.”
No way am I going to open my door. I don’t need him to tell me again how he’s a free agent. He turns my door handle and finds it locked. Next thing, my phone starts ringing beside me. It’s him. Shit! It sounds so loud. I bet he can hear it ringing. Immediately it stops ringing, it starts up again. He knocks on the door when it stops.
“Ana. Please.”
What if he wants to apologize? He wouldn’t be this persistent if he wasn’t sorry, right? And he can’t do it from the other side of the door. He won’t want to give my neighbors something to talk about. Maybe I should open the door and hear what he has to say. But I still don’t move. My mind flashes back to when he said he was busy and we weren’t exclusive. What if he wants to reiterate his comments? He knocks a couple more times but I don’t respond. I feel like I’m frozen. I’m just sitting on the couch, staring at the door like I’m waiting for something to happen.
“Okay, Ana. Have it your way,” he says, sounding hard and cold. “I’m done here.” And with that, he leaves. I hear his footsteps receding. It takes me over an hour to finally get up and drag myself to my bedroom.
I feel so numb.
ELEVEN
Ana
“You did what?” Rae asks. Mia just sits and looks at me, her face filled with disappointment. We’re having lunch at our usual place.
“I asked Henry out to dinner,” I say, repeating what I had just told my friends even though I know they heard me clearly.
“How could you?” Rae asks. “You’re not interested in him, and you know he’s had a thing for you for ages”. Rae is right. Henry works with us in the accounts department, and he’s asked me out a few times in the past.
“I could be interested in him.” I feel a twinge of guilt as I say the words. I’m lying to myself and to my friends. “I’ve never given him a fair chance.”
Rae glances at Mia who hasn’t wiped the disappointed expression on her face.
“Ana, we know this is about Luke. Why don’t you –”
I don’t let her finish. “No. We’re over.” I spent the past few days miserable, hoping against hope that he’ll call and make everything right. He didn’t. “And I have no intention of spending the next year or two single.” I glance at Mia who’s glaring at me, annoyance has replaced the disappointment she’s been wearing. “No offence, Mia.” I take a deep breath. I need my friends to understand. I need their support. “He told me he was too busy to call. He reminded me that we were not exclusive.” It still hurts so much thinking about it, and it hurts much worse when I say it out loud. “If he chooses to take other women out, then I see no reason why I can’t go out with whoever I want. I wish him and Amber all the best.” Of course my last statement was said with a good dose of insincerity.
“For god’s sake, Ana,” Mia says, sounding fed up with me.
“Wait. Amber? The woman you saw him with was Amber?” Rae asks.
“Yeah,” I say, pushing down my jealousy and hurt. Looking directly at Rae, I ask, “Do you know her?”
“Yes, Ana. There’s nothing going on between him and Amber. She works in the same building with Luke and Cole, and they treat her like a younger sister. She actually has – maybe had – a huge crush on Cole, although it looks to me like she’s still trying to get over him. She’s come a long way from glaring at me to saying hello albeit with some obvious effort on her part.”
“Don’t mind, Ana. She didn’t even give him a chance to explain. I didn’t get the impression that there was anything more than friendship between them,” Mia says.
“Yes, I did. And he explained that we weren’t exclusive.” Rae opens her mouth to speak but before she can get a word out, I quickly add, “Look, I get that I may have misread the situation on Thursday and Amber may just be a friend but the fact is that Luke can go out with other women and I can’t sit back and watch that happen.”
“So tell him you want to be exclusive,” Mia says. “He’ll be happy.”
“No, he won’t,” I say.
“Ana, you didn’t see how concerned he was about you. You were too busy getting upset and running away to notice.”
“I wasn’t running away.” Okay, I was, but that’s not the point. “The point is he and I are over. I’ve decided to move on to someone who’ll appreciate me,” I say out loud.
“So you want to date other people?” Rae a
sks. I nod in response, essentially lying to my friends.
“Ana, we know that’s not true,” Mia says. “Why was it easy for you to call Henry and ask him out but you refused to call Luke for days?”
Because I didn’t care if Henry turned me down. Because I wanted Luke to come to me willingly and make us official. Because I was scared of giving Luke more of myself without some commitment from him. Because I’m in love with him and I didn’t know if he felt anything close to that. Well, now I know.
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s because Luke and I weren’t exclusive.”
“Really?” Mia asks, exasperated. She turns to Rae. “I’m done trying to reason with her.”
“Yeah, me too.”
***
It’s Friday night and I’m on my first – and last – date with Henry. How the hell did I get myself in this situation? Henry is a nice guy but if I have to sit here for one more minute and listen to him talk about cricket and his “beloved” parrot, I’m going to scream. God! I’d give anything to be in Luke’s arms right now. I miss him. I miss everything about him. I miss the way his green eyes light up when he laughs. I miss the way his fingers gently stroke my skin when we’re watching a movie together. I miss having him ask me about my day. I miss listening to him talk about his day. Fuck! I miss him. It’s been a week and he hasn’t called me. He just moved on. He’s probably out with a woman now, I think bitterly. I ignore the voice inside that’s calling me a hypocrite. So I guess he meant it when he said he was done. All the false bravado I was displaying in front of my friends has faded. I should have handled my last meeting with Luke better. I should have called him. I shouldn’t have let the things get this bad, then maybe I wouldn’t be feeling so damned miserable.
“Ana?”
“What?” I ask, looking at Henry’s concerned brown eyes. There are no flecks of gold in them. And they’re not green. His eyelashes are not long and black. They are the same shade of brown as his hair. While Henry is mildly attractive, Luke is breathtakingly handsome.
“I asked if you’d like to watch a cricket match with me this Sunday but you didn’t hear me, and then I called your name twice.”
“I’m sorry, Henry. I was distracted for a minute,” I say, forcing a smile.
“You’re not really into cricket, are you?”
No kidding. What gave me away, except the polite but bored expression I’m sure was on my face? “Honestly, no. I’m sorry.” I’m sorry for asking you out on a date and giving you the wrong impression, and consequently wasting both our time.
“You don’t have to apologize. I shouldn’t have been talking about it so much. I tend to get a bit carried away,” he says apologetically, and covers my hand on the table with his. “I’ll make it up to you.”
I’m thinking of how to politely extricate my hand from under his and tell him that he doesn’t need to make it up to me but before I can do either, he adds, “Do you know the guy sitting at the table behind you? He’s been staring at us . . . well, at you.”
I turn around and I stop breathing. I’m looking straight at Luke’s gorgeous green eyes. He is staring at me impassively, his gaze unwavering. Stunned, I blink once and then again. He’s really here. He’s having dinner with a male friend who is looking at me with some amusement and curiosity. I hastily turn back, avoiding eye contact with Henry, and hurriedly pull my hand out from under his. It’s not that I’m feeling guilty, I just don’t want Henry touching me. I have nothing to feel guilty about, right?
“Ana, do you know him?”
Still avoiding his gaze, I lift my wine glass to my lips and take a large swallow. My heart is beating so hard and loud. The wine does absolutely nothing to calm me down. Of all the restaurants in London, why did he have to come here? Thank goodness he’s not with a woman.
“Ana?”
“Yes,” I answer reluctantly.
“Are you okay? You look flushed.”
“I’m good.” No, I’m not. I’m not good at all. Everything in me is screaming that I go to Luke.
Fuck. He’s so handsome. I’ve missed him badly.
“Is he an ex-boyfriend?”
I shake my head.
“Why is he still staring at you? Do you want me to ask him to stop?”
“No,” I say quickly. I’m sounding a little panicked for some strange reason. I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. “No,” I say again, calmer.
Henry is looking at me like he’s never seen me before, and I know he now knows why I suddenly asked him out after turning him down every single time he’s asked me in the last eighteen months.
He clears his throat. “Do you want to –?” he starts to ask then stops. It doesn’t take me long to find out why.
Luke is standing beside our table.
“Luke Charlton,” he says, offering Henry his hand.
Henry takes it. “Henry Manning. You’re a friend of Ana’s?”
“Friend?” he asks with a smirk. “I wouldn’t exactly call her a friend.” He turns to me with a smile that’s downright sinful, and even though I should be annoyed at him for implying to Henry that we’re intimate, I can’t help noticing again how incredibly sexy he looks. Damn, I’ve really missed him. “No, she’s definitely not that,” he murmurs. Then in a louder voice, he says “You forgot some of your things at my house. I think a tube of lipstick, a bottle of perfume, some clothes and –” He stops and glances at Henry, then continues. “I don’t think it’s appropriate to mention the other thing at the dinner table.” I stiffen in annoyance and glare at him but he looks unconcerned. “See you around, Ana.” He walks away without glancing at Henry.
What the fuck? I don’t have a single thing in his house and the annoying man knows it. Sure, I admit I’ve been tempted to leave a few things behind. I definitely should have told Luke off but I didn’t want to give Henry and any of our coworkers – if he decides to share – anything to talk about.
It should not come as a surprise that the rest of our dinner was uncomfortable. It’s like Henry couldn’t wait for it to be over while I sat fuming and wanting to strangle Luke slowly.
I’m going to kill him. Slowly. Painfully. But why the hell am I aroused?
As soon as dinner is over, Henry asks if he can drive me home but I tell him that I’ll take a taxi. I stop one and give him Luke’s address. He better be at home. Alone.
When I get to his house, I stride to the door and lean on his doorbell. Let’s see how he likes the persistent ringing. He opens his door immediately. It’s as if he was expecting me. He looks completely unfazed by my presence. And . . . he’s shirtless. I gulp. My gaze is drawn to his broad shoulders and perfectly defined chest and abs. I remind myself that I’m mad at him and tear my gaze away from his chest, focusing on his face and trying hard to ignore how handsome he is.
“What the fuck do you think you’re playing at?” I ask him, injecting all the anger, frustration and unhappiness I’ve been feeling into my voice.
He opens his front door wider. “Please come in. You can scream as loud as you want inside,” he says, sounding perfectly calm. I’ll go inside but only because I want to yell at him, I tell myself.
I march into his house and turn to face him, not bothering to hold back my anger. “How dare you imply that there’s something going on between us?” I demand.
Ignoring my question and visibly unconcerned by my anger, he asks, “Were you on a date?”
“That’s none of your business,” I answer hotly. “You owe me an apology for ruining my evening.” He owes me more than an apology for making me fall in love with him and then breaking my heart. “Seriously, what gave you the impression that you’re welcome anywhere near me?”
“Yet you’re here in my house,” he points out.
“Not because I want to.” I’m lying again. I had to see him, to be close to him.
“You didn’t have to come here. You could have just called.”
“I wanted to yell at you to your face,” I say.
&nbs
p; “Ana, why are you really here? What did you come for?” he asks, moving leisurely towards me.
I stand my ground, refusing to be let him see how much he affects me. “I came to tell you to stay out of my life.” Why the hell is he not wearing a shirt?
He stops in front of me and I refuse to look anywhere below his lips. Let’s make that anywhere below his nose. Looking at his lips is not a good idea. But his eyes . . . those green eyes . . . I can see flecks of gold in them.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” he says quietly.
“What do you mean –?” I start to say heatedly but the words seize in my throat. His fingers stroke my hair. I almost stop breathing. I am extremely aware of him. Gathering every single ounce of strength I possess, I take a couple of steps back putting some much needed space between us. His hand drops to his side. Relieved, I breathe a little easier. But my relief is short-lived because Luke takes a step towards me eliminating all the distance I put between us. There’s no point pretending that his nearness isn’t affecting me. I take another couple of steps back and my back hits the wall.
“Who was he, Ana?”
“None of your damn business,” I say with false bravado, and then add for good measure, “I can see whoever I want, whenever I want. It has nothing to do with you.”
He regards me coolly and comes towards me. His fingers brush my cheek and then slowly trail down to my neck stopping at the base where he can obviously feel my pulse beating erratically.
“Think again, sweetheart.” He presses his body closer to mine. His hands sweep down my body and grip my wrists. With a deft move, he has my hands above my head. “You want to try another answer?”
Fuck! I am so turned on. My entire being is tingling with excitement . . . and anticipation. And he knows it. He can feel it radiating from me.
“Did he kiss you?” he asks, his tone demanding. His mouth is right by my ear.
I’m backed up against the wall with his body flush against mine and his hand holding my wrists above my head. I’m reveling in the feel of his body and his heady masculine scent. I’ve longed so hard for him. Desire courses through me.
