Still the One

by Jill Shalvis

  couldn’t take it if she did. “I’ll call them right now. Maybe they’re still in the area—”

  “Darcy,” he said gently, catching her hands. “It’s been eight hours. They’re gone.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He looked at her for a long beat, as if assessing her ability to handle the truth. “I got an unhappy text, let’s put it that way,” he said. “It’s over. But it’s okay.”

  “How?” she demanded. “How is it okay?”

  “There are other people out there willing to get involved. I’ll find them.”

  She dropped her head to his chest. “Dammit, AJ. Why did you do it? You didn’t have to come for me. And you didn’t have to stay. I kicked you out.”

  “It didn’t take.” He slid his fingers into her hair, carefully avoiding her stitches, and tilted her head up so that she stared into his eyes. “And yeah, I did have to stay with you. And you already know why, but I’ll keep telling you until it sinks in.”

  She felt Xander start to get up from the bed and caught his hand. “You’re leaving?”

  He glanced at AJ and nodded. “But I’ll come back later if you want.”

  “I want,” she said. “You do know that you’re one of the most important people in my life, right? I need you to know that, Xander.”

  He slid a quick look at AJ and then came back to Darcy. “I do know it. And ditto, babe.”

  “So … we’re going to be okay?” she asked, her heart hitching. She wasn’t good at this, at asking for what she wanted. But she wanted him in her life.

  “We already are,” he said, his eyes still very serious, his mouth slightly curved. He leaned in and touched his lips to hers softly, giving a small smirk at the low growl that came from the other side of the bed. “I’ve got a client waiting,” he told her and stood. “But I could bring dinner.”

  “Pizza?”

  “Naturally.”

  Darcy felt more than saw AJ’s grimace, but her stomach growled with excitement. “Pepperoni,” she said. “Extra cheese.”

  Xander nodded and headed to the door.

  “And soda,” she called after him before she lay back and closed her eyes. “Not going to comment on my menu choices?” she asked AJ.

  “No.”

  “Are you being gentle for the crazy lady?”

  He slid her a look. “Have I ever gotten mad at you for your menu choices? Have I ever given you any impression I want you to be anything other than what you are?”

  “And what am I?” she asked softly.

  “Perfect.”

  She snorted and he smiled. “Okay,” he said, “perfect to me.”

  Her heart stopped just as it had when he’d said “I love you” with such ease—but there was something far more important than her own feelings right now. “AJ, the grant money—” She didn’t know if she could live with that, with what he’d done for her.

  “It doesn’t matter,” he said. “None of that matters.”

  She met his gaze. “What does matter?”

  “I’ll give you one guess.”

  Twenty-nine

  Darcy hated that she felt so weak and pathetic that tears threatened at AJ’s words. Again.

  “Do you need a hint?” he asked. “Or my shirt to wipe your nose on again?”

  Words failed her so she went with her usual fallback. She flipped him off.

  He smiled. “Aw,” he said, and grabbed her hand. “You’re number one in my book, too.”

  She choked out a laugh. How the hell could he do that, make her laugh when she wanted to strangle him? She had no idea. And how could he make her laugh at all? But he always could, no matter what was happening. “I distinctly remember dumping you in the hospital,” she said. “Why won’t you stay dumped?”

  “Stubbornness. According to the captain, I was born with more than my fair share. Tell me what happened today,” he said softly.

  “You saw what happened.”

  “You got on the highway.”

  She let all her air out with a single whoosh. “Yeah. And then a big, stupid truck carrying live turkeys passed me and I panicked and swerved. It was all me. Again.” She rolled over and buried her face in the pillow. Which, by the way, hurt her head. It was really hard to be a proper drama queen with a concussion.

  AJ slid down into the bed to lie with her and carefully turned her to face him. “You got on the highway.”

  “Didn’t I just say so?” she asked, hands on his chest to hold him back. “I think I’ve got blood matted in my hair.”

  “You did it,” he said, his arms inexorable steel. “You overcame.”

  “Yeah. For Chance.”

  Hearing his name, the dog popped back up and jumped on the bed. He turned in a circle—three times—and very carefully plopped himself down by Darcy, setting his big head on her legs.

  Her heart melted. “You’re a good boy,” she said softly.

  AJ stroked the dog, his eyes still on Darcy. “You took a step past just surviving life; you took your first step toward living it.”

  His eyes revealed so much. Pride in her, for one. And affection. And that light she’d seen a few times before, the one that had made her fall for him. “Well, not my first step,” she said, wondering if he’d know what she meant.

  His eyes warmed. He knew.

  “But an important one,” he said. “Do you need aspirin or anything for the pain?”

  Confused at the subject change, she said, “No.”

  “Water?”

  “No.”

  “Good. Talk time.”

  Her stomach was suddenly filled with butterflies. “Wait. I might need something, after all.”

  “Too late,” he said. “Now I want to know why I’m dumped.”

  She opened her mouth and then closed it.

  “Oh, come on,” he said. “You love to fight. Let’s have it.”

  Admit that she’d fallen for him and had gotten upset and mad and hurt because she was alone in it? That made her no better than Xander. “I was having a bad day.”

  “A bad day made you tear out of work like the hounds of hell were on your heels?” he asked.

  “I told Ariana I was sick.”

  He stared at her for a long beat. “You’re holding back.”

  And he wasn’t, which just about killed her. She gave him a smile and gave a very small—and careful—head shake, like Who me? I’m not holding back anything, and especially not the fact that I’ve fallen in love with you … “Listen,” she said. “I’m pretty tired so …”

  He shook his head. “Lame,” he said. “I’ve seen you lie much better than that. Try again.”

  “Let’s try you leaving.”

  “Sure,” he said and leaned over her, caging her in with a hand on either side of her hips.

  “What are you—”

  “It’s called a good-bye kiss,” he said, and covered her mouth with his.

  The kiss fried her brain cells—the ones she had left, anyway. There was nothing gentle or soft or careful about it, either. No, he was fierce and determined and definitely making a statement.

  She stared at him when he pulled back, completely thrown off her game—which had become the new norm around him. “Since when do we kiss good-bye?”

  “Since you decreed we were a couple.”

  “That was pretend,” she managed to say. “And we’ve never kissed good-bye.”

  “We do now,” he said, and leaned in and kissed her again, slower this time, sweeter, a kiss so achingly tender that she actually forgot her hurt and anger entirely. Hell, she forgot everything and let out a low moan while simultaneously trying to get closer. Finally, when she was a puddle of need and desire, he lifted his head and stared at her.

  “Yeah,” he murmured, rasping his thumb over her wet lower lip. “Much better. Now talk to me.”

  That was the last thing she wanted to do. Willing to set everything aside for a good-bye orgasm, she rocked the neediest part of her to the neediest—and, well, lo
ok at that—also the hardest part of him. “I’ve got a better idea.”

  AJ cupped her face and stroked her hair back to smile into her eyes. It was his sexy smile, his wanna-get-seriously-dirty smile, but he held her off. “You’re hurt. I’m not taking advantage of that.”

  “No problem,” she said. “I’ll take advantage of you.”

  “Talk first,” AJ said with great difficulty.

  “Are you kidding me?” Darcy asked. “You’re a guy, you’re not supposed to turn down sex. It’s not programmed into your genetic code.”

  “I know but—” He hissed in a breath when she leaned forward and licked his Adam’s apple. “Something’s wrong,” he managed. “And that’s what couples do to figure their shit out, they talk.”

  She jerked back. “But we’re not a couple.”

  “Because you dumped me.”

  “Because I heard you,” she said.

  “Heard me what?”

  “You telling Trent and Summer that we weren’t together, that it wasn’t like that between us. That I wasn’t even the patient you wanted them to meet.”

  Her voice was light, casual even, but AJ heard the hurt behind the words as it finally sank into his thick skull what the problem was. “This morning,” he said slowly. “That’s what sent you running.”

  She looked away.

  Shit. He really was an idiot. “Okay, first of all,” he said, “when you told Trent we were together, you were just messing with me, remember?”

  “Oh, I remember.”

  He went still briefly at the odd tone to her voice. “You told him that only because you were mad at me.”

  “Annoyed,” she corrected.

  “Whatever the reason,” he said, “you let him think we were in love. It wasn’t true then, not even close, and I couldn’t let them continue to think otherwise, not after I realized their decision to fund my grant had been based on the lie.”

  “No, you’re right,” she said with a calm voice that he didn’t think boded well for him. “You’re absolutely right. We weren’t a couple, not by any stretch of the imagination. We were just two people who had sex during a storm in a hotel room. It happens.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Not to me.”

  She shrugged. “The point is, we aren’t a couple.”

  “Weren’t,” he corrected. “But that changed.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Really?” he asked. “Then what do you call the rest of that weekend? Or the nights since?”

  “Animal magnetism,” she said. “But don’t worry, it’ll pass. In fact, I think it’s already passing.”

  “If that’s true, then what is this conversation about? If you’re over me, what does it matter what I told Trent?”

  “I have no idea,” she said coolly. “You were the one who wanted to talk, not me.” She turned away, lying facing the wall, her hands tucked beneath her cheek. “I’m going back to sleep now. Let yourself out.”

  “Not yet.” He rolled her back to face him, and what he saw in her gaze made his heart plummet into the pit of his stomach.

  Her eyes were hollow, devastated. And it hit him with a punch a thousand times more solid than Xander’s. “You thought I was throwing you away,” he said.

  Darcy felt the humiliation burn her cheeks and she closed her eyes. “Never mind, okay? Forget it, forget all of it. We’re good.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “That’s exactly what you told Xander.”

  “So what?” she asked. “Xander and I are just friends, too.”

  “We’re not just friends,” he said, something dark and dangerous in his voice, something that tightened her chest and made her head ache. “Darcy, look at me.”

  She rolled to her back and stared up at him.

  “We’ve never been just friends,” he said, his voice low and burning with intensity. “I love you, Darcy.”

  “And yet you told Trent we weren’t together.”

  “Because you didn’t love me. I’d never rush you, not with this.”

  She stared at him. “You really have no idea how I feel?”

  “I’ve hoped,” he said. “But you’ve never told me, and you’ve been really good at keeping your feelings to yourself.”

  “I slept with you,” she whispered.

  “I have no illusions about that equaling love. But in case I’ve never been clear, let me be crystal on this one thing. I love you, unconditionally. I want you in my life, but this is your choice, Darcy. It always was. And when you make that choice, I hope you’ll let me know which way the cards fell.”

  She nearly choked on all the emotion clogging her throat. Oh, how she wanted to believe it, all of it. But her head hurt and she couldn’t think. She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m really tired now.”

  “I know,” he said. “Rest.”

  She nodded and forced her breathing to even out. Not easy when her chest felt like it might be caving in.

  But somewhere between pretending to sleep and waiting for him to leave, she really did get sucked into dreamland.

  Thirty

  A week later AJ was at the wellness center working with Tyson.

  Tyson lay flat on his back with his legs bent, a yoga ball beneath his knees, which he slowly and painfully worked side to side, sweating like crazy.

  Raisin sat at his hip, watching with infinite patience.

  AJ himself had no patience. Zero. He’d been in a viciously bad mood all week and everyone in his life was over him.

  Especially the one person who mattered the most.

  He hadn’t heard from her, not a single word. He was starting to believe that it was truly over.

  Tyson swiped sweat from his eyes.

  “Need a break?” AJ asked.

  “No.”

  AJ appreciated the sentiment, since some might say he needed a break. In fact, Ariana had told him so just this morning—while sporting a new tattoo, a small phoenix rising from the back of her shoulder.

  Xander’s work.

  Rumor had it they’d been out twice. AJ didn’t care. Didn’t care about shit.

  Wyatt and Zoe had kept him up-to-date on Darcy, which was a doubled-edged sword for him. He knew that she was fine, recovering, almost back to her usual self.