by S. L. Scott
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Love,
Suzie
PROLOGUE
~Jane Lewis~
SQUEEZING THE STEERING wheel, I blow out the breath I was holding the last few seconds. My heart is racing almost as fast as my car.
This is it.
I’m ignoring my mind, flipping around my hurt feelings, and following my heart. Rolling my window down, I throw caution to the wind.
This feels right.
I’ve been apart from the other half of my heart for too long, and I’m going to reclaim him.
“I’m going to open your body, embrace your soul, and coax the moon and stars to shine inside.”
Words whispered in my ear many years ago make my heart somersault in my chest. My long hair whips around my head, the wind heavy with anticipation as excitement builds deep within.
I park in front of the house he bought post-us and rush to the door. Knocking twice, I bounce on my heels waiting for him to answer while trying to peek in through the small side window to see if he’s home. I hope he is. My feelings are about to burst free from excitement and I need to share them with him.
The connection we once had was derailed over misunderstandings and hurt feelings. Over the last year, wanting the life I had back, wanting him back, I’ve broken down and gone to see him. We haven’t talked recently, but now is the time to come clean, to tell him how I feel, hoping he feels the same.
Luke Anders is my past, present, and soon to be future all wrapped in a sexy, hard body, and a lady-killer smile. I cannot wait to smother him with deep kisses and late-night snuggles, just like I used to do.
Lifting up, I peek in the window again and huff when I don’t see any movement inside. I check the door and when the doorknob turns, I go in. “Luke?”
I get nothing in return, so I walk farther inside and call him again. “Luke?”
My happy bubble deflates as I try to figure out if I stay and wait or if I should go. The space draws me farther in, the calm of the environment, of Luke’s life surrounding me, giving me peace. I smile, touching the bannister, running my fingers over the smooth railing.
“I know you.”
I look up to find a bleach-blonde woman at the top of the stairs, holding the railing I was just touching like a barricade to the second floor. My heart suddenly feels heavy and blood rushes through my veins, loud in my ears. “I’m looking for Luke,” I reply dumbly.
“He’s upstairs.” She points over her shoulder. “I can get him. He should be out of the shower by now.”
The shirt… she’s wearing his USC shirt. “Did you go to USC?”
“Huh?”
I point and she looks down and tugs on the hem that hits her upper thighs, and laughs. “Oh no. This is Luke’s. I borrowed it.”
My arm crosses over my stomach as I struggle to keep its contents down. I stare a moment longer before my eyes lower and I notice she has no pants on. Gulping down my hurt feelings, my disappointment, and replacing them with a false pride, I say, “Tell him I stopped by,” then turn to leave.
“Jane?”
I freeze. After a deep breath, I turn just enough to look over my shoulder.
“He’s happy.”
Catching her drift, I ask, “Without me, you mean?”
She leans against the wall, his shirt sliding up her long legs as if she wants me to see just how model-esque she is compared to me. Her eyes stay fixed on me looking way too comfortable in his house. “With me.”
My heart crashes and burns into the pit of my stomach and I lower my gaze. “I’ve changed my mind. You don’t need to tell him I stopped by.” I beeline for the door.
Just before it shuts, she says, “Tootle-loo,” grinding the salt deeper into my open-heart wound.
Running to my car, I jump in and close the door fast, keeping the world and all its pain outside. I back out and when I’m driving away, I make sure not to look back.
My phone rings and I glance at the caller ID. It’s not the person I want to hear from, but I answer it anyway, not wanting to feel so alone. “Hi.”
“Please come home, Jane. I’m sorry I told people.” Lawrence’s voice fills the car as it comes out through the speakers.
“You lied to them. We’re not engaged.”
“You played along.”
“I shouldn’t have. I was put on the spot. You set me up to either play along or be embarrassed. I chose to play along to end it.”
“I know you love me deep down.”
“I care about you, Lawrence, but I’m not in love with you.”
“Come home.”
“It’s not my home.”
“It will be if you just give it a chance, if you give me a chance, a real chance this time.”
My heart hurts as I enter the freeway. An hour later I’m sitting in front of Lawrence’s house looking at the pink flowers he had planted for me.
I always wanted a white picket fence, a house full of kids, and an amazing husband I can’t love enough. Two out of three isn’t so bad.
Maybe I can be happy with Lawrence, happy like Luke is with that other woman. “He’s happy. With me.” Luke has moved on. He’s really not mine anymore. How could he move on without me? He promised me he’d love me forever. He lied.
I’m not getting any younger and I want my dreams to come true. Lawrence… loves me. He says he’ll give me everything I want and a comfortable life. Comfortable. Looks like that’s all I will have now.
Luke is no longer mine. He’s given his heart away and taken mine in the process.
Who needs a whole heart anyway?
CHAPTER 1
~Luke Anders~
Ten Months Later
“WHAT IF I touched you right where you want to be touched?” I slide my hand up her thigh, inching her skirt up slowly. Her breath catches, the quiet gasp making me smile. “What if I touched you right where you pretend to be so protective? I know you. I know you like it dirty… maybe even a little rough.”
She finds her voice, though it’s affected, sexy. “A lot.”
“What is that?”
Clearing her throat, she says, “I like it rough. Really rough.”
The right side of my mouth curves up, my hand stalling just below the apex of her thighs when my phone buzzes. I release a sigh. Grabbing the phone from my pocket, I sit up and read the text: Let’s get the fuck out of here. I look back at the black-haired raven I’ve left squirming on the metal barstool next to me. Pity. I’d like to explore exactly how she likes it, but duty calls. Standing up suddenly, I grab my wallet and slap some bills down for the drinks.
“What are you doing?” she demands, desperation lacing her tone as her eyes go wide.
I tuck my wallet back into the inside pocket of my Vittori suit jacket and kiss her on the cheek. Since I’m there, I add with a wink, “I bet we’d be so fucking good together.” Straightening upright, I smirk. “My apologies. I hate to run, but unfortunately, I have a prior engagement I can’t get out of. Maybe we can pick this up another time. I’ll see you around, sweetheart.”
She huffs. “You’re a playboy bastard, Luke Anders,” rolls off her tongue in frustrated anger as she spins back to the bar.
I know. Not turning back, I nod. It’s not the first time I’ve been called a playboy or a bastard. Name-calling doesn’t bother me. Not getting laid tonight does.
Pushing open the exit door that leads to the alley, my asshole friends are waiting near the car they’ve pulled around.
The rusting red door slams shut, the click of the lock heard loudly behind me. The alley is quiet compared to the loud music that blares inside the club. “Fuckers.” With my arms out wide, I yell, “What the fuck? Where’s the fire? I was closin
g the deal.”
“We were saving you, man. Trust me on that.” My best friend is standing in front of the car with his arms crossed over his chest. Danny Weston is one of the best people I know, but right now, he’s pissing me the fuck off.
“Saving me from what?”
“Ask Blaise. He has firsthand knowledge.”
When I shoot an annoyed look in Blaise’s direction, he clams up. With hands up in surrender, he backs away toward the driver’s door. “I can’t help that the ladies love me.” Thus confirming he’s already hit that pretty kitty.
I walk to the passenger’s side of the car, punching Danny on the arm when I pass him. “Shit, man, just give me a heads-up next time. I wasted some of my best lines on her.”
Danny claims the front seat, so I duck into the back seat of a restored 1969 black Gran Torino. Cocky behind the wheel, Blaise takes off before we even have our seatbelts on, and says, “Stop hitting on everyone that takes pity on you then.”
“Fuck you. I can get any woman I want. No one’s taking pity on me.”
Danny breaks into the argument, “You guys really need to find a new hobby.”
“One-night stands are plenty entertaining,” Blaise retorts, smiling.
Danny puts his arm on the back of the seat and turns toward me. “I’m not going to lecture you—”
“Again,” I add.
“Again,” he repeats while rolling his eyes. “But we’ve talked about this a fuck ton of times. She’s not Jane and until you figure out what the hell is going on there, or if anything is going on there, these women are all the same—just another disappointment you’re going to have in the morning because they’re not her.”
Blaise verbally steps in, “Damn, dude, why so deep? You’re bringing me down.”
Danny laughs. I don’t. We’ve been friends for many years now, so Danny knows my game. He knows me well enough to know what I’m doing. Until I sort out this mess with the first woman I ever loved, the rest are just regrets waiting to happen, along with the regrets I can’t take back.
But I know him well too. We relate in a way that Blaise doesn’t understand, on a level that one day he’d be lucky to experience. No matter what I’ve been through with Jane, I’ve loved, hard. I know what it means to love and to be loved. I have no regrets when it comes to Jane, except one: letting her go.
* * *
THE HOLLYWOOD HILLS holds many secrets. Behind the closed doors of the pristine homes belies a lifestyle of privilege and sacrifice. The residents may not realize what they’ve surrendered to be in the position to live in such a prestigious neighborhood, but it’s always there lingering in the background—you’re only as good as your last—film, hit song, series, novel, screenplay, production, last whatever it is that gained you entrance to LA’s elite.
We walk up the driveway to the mansion atop the hill passing a woman who is vaping while on the phone arguing with what sounds like her boyfriend. Danny’s over this scene, but he comes for us. I’m not sure if it’s to keep us out of trouble or to watch us get shot down. Either way I’m glad he’s here. Between his modeling schedule and his relationship, he’s rarely in LA anymore or wanting to spend time out.
Blaise walks in first and we follow. The music is loud, and the crowd trendsetting in their attire. We find a bar full of booze before we find anyone we know. After mixing our drinks, we head outside to the pool area. I take the lead when I spot a group of women in short, very tight skirts and heels that make their legs look a mile long.
Actresses or wannabes. Either way, they’re hot.
I stop and Blaise runs into my back. “What the hell, Anders? You just made me spill my drink down the front of my shirt.”
When I see her, I’m suddenly frozen to the spot—stuck in a history I can’t seem to forget.
Danny says, “I think you should talk to her.”
I look back at Blaise. “Did you know she would be here?”
He’s swiping his hands down his shirt. “Who?”
“Jane,” Danny responds for me.
Blaise immediately looks up and over my shoulder. “Where?”
He signals toward the hot tub Jane is standing near, talking to people sitting inside it. “Over there.”
His eyes dart from Jane back to me. “I thought it was kind of a given since she lives here.”
“What?” I ask, scanning the room. “What do you mean? This is where she and her boyfuck live?”
“He’s more than a fuck. He’s her fiancé,” he corrects. “Wasn’t it understood when I invited you?”
What the fuck? Fiancé?
Surely I misheard him, but I’m too numb to voice my questions.
“You never said who the lawyer was.” Danny pushes him enough so Blaise understands he just pissed off his friends. “You’re an asshole, Blaise. You know that?”
I want to fucking pop Blaise. Before I can say, or do, anything more, I see him. Him—the man with the smug smile on his face when he sees me. I tell my friends, “I need to get out of here.”
It’s too late. I know it is. I would look like a pussy if I ran. So I stay. Lawrence Reinstardt—lawyer to the stars, LA bigwig, and fiancé to the one I once thought I was destined to be with. If he wasn’t such an arrogant asshole, I might like the guy. But we remain at odds over a woman he takes for granted and one I can’t forget.
Capped, bright white teeth. He’s older than me by six to eight years maybe, easily mid-thirties or older. Tailored blue shirt with fitted slacks and designer loafers. Sure, he’s well dressed, and most women might fall for his blond hair, dark eyes, fake tan, and fat wallet, but I fail to see what Jane sees in him. It’s obviously something I can’t. He smiles. “Anders. Surprised to see you here.”
“I heard Jane was going to dump you publicly and wanted a front-row seat.”
“Ha ha. You’re a funny guy.” He clicks his tongue and shoots me with his hands, as if they’re guns, and we’re five years old. “I can see why she chose me,” he says with a snarl.
And there it is… the one thing he can hold over me. He has the one person he knows I can’t have, and he taunts me, riles me, and makes me want to punch his fucking lights out. Just as I make a fast break forward to take him down, Danny throws his arms out to separate us. “Let’s remember we’re gentlemen here and not do this. It’s a party, after all.”
My breath isn’t harsh. I’m the epitome of calm on the outside, my fury spinning like a tornado deep inside. He shouldn’t fear the man that rages loudly. He should fear the one that rages quietly. It would be easy to knock that smug smirk off his face, but I don’t need easy. I’m better than that. I’m better than him. I glare at him before backing down and straightening my expensive suit.
When Danny lowers his arms, Lawrence has the nerve to say, “Danny, my friend. So glad you could make it, but I think you should take your buddy and leave.”
“First off,” Danny starts, “you and I are not friends. Secondly, we’re already leaving.”
Just as I’m about to take a step, not wanting to be here another second longer, I hear, “Luke.”
I know the voice. That same voice whispered my name in varying degrees of emotion from ecstasy to pain, the memories of her tone still emblazoned across my heart like a brand.
Why can’t I just forget her and move on?
“Luke?”
When I finally look over my shoulder, my head drops after seeing her. I’m never prepared. Not ever. Her beauty never wanes in my eyes. Never. Maybe it’s because of the memories attached to her, but I’m really thinking it’s my heart that’s still attached. “I don’t want any trouble,” I say, my voice sounding weaker than I like. “I was just leaving.”
She stops a few feet behind me, and says quietly, “It’s good to see you.”
Lawrence snaps his fingers and when I look at him, his eyes are on my Jane, his tone harsh as he calls her to his side. “Come here, Jane.”
I turn to look at her, insulted, offended, and infuriated he
would treat her like a dog. Her eyes are on me but they aren’t bright like when we were together. The soft smile she’s wearing fades when she looks to him.
His demand is harsher this time when he snaps again and points to the ground. “Here. Now. Jane.”
I want to fucking throttle him. But by the looks of it, Danny might beat me to the punch. Literally. The back of my hand hits his chest as I try to remain that calm I was bragging about a moment earlier. It’s not my place to step in on her relationship, a relationship she chose over ours. “Let’s go.”
Danny acknowledges me, and silently, he takes a step back. Dropping my arm down, I turn to Jane. “It was good to see you.” I head for the door, not rushing, though I want to. I walk, wondering where the hell the feisty girl I once knew was. When I look over my shoulder, she turns away from Lawrence and walks back outside, leaving him standing there with his finger still pointing toward the floor.
There she is.
My smile is wide as we leave a place I should have never come to in the first place. When we get back in the car, Blaise doesn’t waste time getting us out of there, and I don’t waste time telling him what I think about him bringing me here. “Don’t ever set me up like that again.”
“I didn’t set you up. I told you we were going to a party.”
“You didn’t tell me whose party.”
“I also didn’t know it was Reinstardt who stole your girl.”
“He didn’t fucking steal her. I let her go.” Stupidly.
Danny looks back at me. “You okay?”
“I’ll be fine. I always am.”
He won’t accept that bullshit of an answer, but with Blaise here, he lets it slide. I appreciate not having an audience while my heart shatters, surprised I have enough of it left to be affected.
Danny asks, “Drinks or home?”
“Home for me. I’m done with today.”
No one questions or argues. Thank God for one thing going my way.
Later, lying in my bed, the wind blows through the open door, the night getting colder by the hour. The room is dark, the lights out, and the moon hidden by a cloudy sky.
