by Kristie Cook
“This is ridiculous,” Hope said one day as we were packing for a book convention.
This would be the first event I’d attend with her, and I was excited about it, but not as much as I should have been. For the first time in my entire life, I felt anxious about traveling so far away from home. We traveled all the time when I was growing up, going to the mountains or the beaches or out of the country—the more exotic the better, my parents thought—nearly every Christmas, Spring Break, and a good chunk of the summer. I’d looked forward to every trip as an adventure. For this trip, I’d be working, but I could finally show my inner nerd and be surrounded by people who shared the love of books and reading. But for some reason, my stomach turned every time I thought about boarding the plane.
“It is a lot of stuff,” I agreed, sitting on my knees as Hope handed me another costume to somehow fit in the suitcase with her others. She said not all events were like this one, where all of the authors participated in cosplay of their own characters. Hope had decided to play a different character for each of the three days of the convention, requiring all kinds of dresses and accessories.
“Oh, this isn’t ridiculous. Well, maybe a little, but it’s always fun. I was talking about you and Brock.” She looked at me with a single brow raised. “You both mope around this house, only yards away from each other but galaxies apart. The atmosphere’s perfect for writing angsty love stories, but not for your real lives.”
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about it,” I said as I tucked a sleeve of the dress into the suitcase. “Brock doesn’t need a girl in his life right now.”
Standing over me in jeans and a simple t-shirt, she put her hands on her hips and nodded. “Any girl? No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t need to be running around like a man-whore when he has a baby to take care of and medical school to prepare for. But you’re not any girl, Asia. And from what I’ve seen, and what I know in my own heart and soul, you both need each other in your lives.”
I dropped my gaze from her and fiddled with a feather on a hat that sat in front of me, still needing to be packed. “You’ve said that before. I don’t understand. Shouldn’t you be protecting him? Keeping him from making another stupid mistake?”
“Exactly. That’s what I’m doing. You are not a mistake, Asia. His ex was, yeah, but we have Connor now, so I can’t even regret that. But you are the opposite of a mistake. You and Brock belong together. I believe you always have and just needed—how did you put it that first day?—that’s right, life to happen and priorities to shift to bring you two together.”
I pondered this for a moment, and then looked up at her, my head cocked to the side. I tried to choose my words carefully because Hope was, after all, my boss first and foremost, and I didn’t want to piss her off.
“I can’t be what he needs and what you want for him and Connor. I can’t fill the shoes of Connor’s mom.”
“I certainly don’t expect that! Yeah, Connor needs a mom. His mom. That’s what would be best for him, of course. But he also needs his dad—a happy dad who can serve as a good role model. Right now, Brock’s not happy.” She pressed her lips together, and the corners lifted slightly. “You should have seen him that day he brought Connor home. He didn’t even walk in the back door like usual, but rang the doorbell at the front of the house. When I opened the door, I was in shock. There was my son who was supposed to be over a thousand miles north standing on my front step. His hair stuck up all over the place, dark circles were under his eyes, and a baby seat with a tiny bundle in it sat at his feet. He stared at the ground at first, shifting foot to foot as he refused to look at me, but when he finally did, I could see the fear in Brock’s eyes—fear of the unknown of being a dad just as much as the fear of my reaction. I did the only thing I could do. I threw my arms around him and welcomed them both home.” She wiped a thumb under her eye. “His relief was immediate, but he wasn’t really happy until you came along, Asia. And when he was happy, he was a better dad to his son.”
I opened my mouth, but she continued.
“That’s how parenting works best. Parents always think they need to make sacrifices for the well-being of their kids, and that’s absolutely true. But we all forget that sometimes we also need to do what’s right for ourselves for the benefit of our children. What happens to children who only witnesses misery as they’re growing up? They become miserable adults themselves, not knowing any better. I want Connor to grow up witnessing and knowing love.” She took a much needed deep breath and then chuckled. “I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to get on my soapbox. I know too many people who’ve grown up in a dark world, only to lead dark lives themselves. I’ve done my best to show Brock only love, and I hope he can do the same for his son.”
Heat rose to my face.
“Um … love? I don’t think—”
“Never deny the possibility of something good like love. The world’s a dark enough place as it is. We need to let the light in every chance we can.” She smiled. “And that’s all I’m going to say. Conversation over, I promise. Just think about it. Maybe reach out to Brock. I know he regrets letting you go.”
Both of my brows shot up. This was news to me. She sucked her lips in and shook her head.
“You didn’t hear that from me,” she said with a conspiratorial wink. “But, seriously, talk to him. For everyone’s benefit.”
“I thought this conversation was over.”
“Right. It is.” She nodded. “Think about it while we’re gone, at least. I bet you come home with a better idea of what to do.”
I had little better to do than think about it while we were gone because I was sick the whole time we were in Chicago. The plane hadn’t crashed, as I’d feared, and the hotel never burnt down, but I sure felt like I’d died and returned as a zombie. I spent the entire convention curled in a ball in bed, except when I was hunched over the toilet. Every cell of my body ached, and my skin was like a radiator. And for some stupid reason, all I could think about was Brock and how I wished he were there to hold me and care for me. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why was he, of all people, the one I thought about when feeling my worst?
“I’m so sorry,” I muttered to Hope as we took our first-class seats for the flight home. I curled into my spot and closed my eyes against the brightness of daylight that didn’t help my aching head. “I wasn’t one bit of help. A hindrance more than anything.”
“No worries,” she said, patting my knee. “I’ve always done these things alone before. One more time didn’t kill me. I’m just sorry you didn’t get to enjoy all the fun. I’m sure you’ll feel better as soon as you get home, though.”
She was right. I hadn’t been home and in my own bed for more than a few hours when my aches dissolved and my twisting stomach finally settled. I was even able to drink some Sprite and eat a few crackers Hope had brought over when we’d arrived home, the first solid food I’d eaten since we’d left. By the next morning, I was back to normal. Thank God for that. I’d never been so sick in my life.
Even my appearance—I hadn’t only felt like a zombie but had looked like one, too—had improved overnight, I noticed as I brushed my teeth. I ran a hand through my hair, which had grown even more. When I’d been in my deepest depression, I’d dyed my hair black to match my mood, but then shortly after, regretted it, so I’d chopped it all off. I also regretted that. It’s not that I missed my once beautiful, waist-length, golden-colored hair all that much. I’d worn my hair like that for as long as I could remember, and I’d become as sick of it as I had the rest of that life. I just hated that drastic measures had to be taken to make a change, and then it took forever to grow it out to something I could change again. When Hope had needed an idea for her book and asked me if I could have a superpower, being able to change my hair color and style at whim was what I’d blurted out.
“It’s stupid, I know,” I’d admitted. “It was jus
t the first thing that came to mind when you asked, besides all the obvious ones.”
She’d tapped her pen against her lips. “I guess it would be useful for instantaneous disguises.”
“Or for empowerment. You know what they say—a new hairstyle can change a girl’s life. Or at least her outlook on it,” I’d said with a snort, paraphrasing all the fashion magazines I used to devour like I consumed full novels now. “For me, though, I’d do it just because I could and nobody else can. It’s different, I guess.”
Hope had eyed me, as if something had occurred to her, and then disappeared, back to her writing cave. I’d assumed I’d helped her figure out whatever she’d been stuck on with her book.
Now, I brushed the blond strands back, but it still wasn’t long enough for a decent ponytail, so I put it up in a clip. I was beginning to feel human again.
Not sure about a strenuous workout in Hope’s gym yet, I took a long walk to the beach that evening, reconsidering one more time the conversation I’d planned to have with Brock instead of actually finding him to start it. I still felt the sting of his first rejection and feared Hope was wrong about him regretting that he’d let me go. Or even if she wasn’t wrong, what if he’d changed his mind? She’d told me that nearly a week ago. A lot could have changed in that time. Maybe my absence had allowed him to clear out the cobwebs of our relationship, and he was completely over it now. He’d probably moved on and didn’t even think about me any more.
Yeah, I was good at psyching myself out.
In fact, by the time I headed for home, I’d pretty much convinced myself that approaching Brock would be disastrous. He’d send me on my way and break my heart again. If he really wanted to be with me, he’d have to come to me … even if I was the one who never spoke up to share my feelings in the first place. Hope said he was giving me space, not wanting to force me into something I didn’t want, which was pretty much what he’d told me, too. But if he really regretted saying that, maybe I needed to make him fight for me to prove it.
Sheesh. Relationships were stupidly complicated.
I crossed my arms over my chest as I walked the three blocks home from the beach. The day had been much warmer than the near freezing temperatures in Chicago that I hadn’t missed at all, but after the sun dropped below the horizon and darkness fell, the cool, winter air sent a chill over my skin. So did the feeling of being followed.
I rubbed my hands over my bare arms and glanced over my shoulder. I thought I saw a shadow shift down the street, but there was no one around to make it and the overhead street lighting was all wrong for the direction it moved. Then a white cat darted across the street, and I had to laugh at myself. You’re imagining things. Freaking yourself out. Still, I picked up my pace and mentally went over the self-defense moves Brock had taught me, trying my hardest to focus on the steps I was supposed to take for various types of attacks, and not on the memories of his arms wrapped around me … or that accidental kiss.
As Hope’s house came into view, the feeling grew stronger. I peered over my shoulder again. A man was running toward me. I walked faster, but still tried to convince myself it meant nothing. I couldn’t have been in a safer neighborhood. People go running all the time. Even at night. I took off into a jog, anyway, as the footsteps came closer, my heart pounding much harder than it should have been. Why wasn’t I wearing my steel-toed Doc Martens? I’d become complacent again, instead wearing flip-flops or tennis shoes. I wore the latter now, with their mesh material and rubber toes. Not very protective except maybe against shin splints.
I turned into the Verdors’ driveway, anxious for the security of being within their fence. The man’s footsteps came much louder and faster, following me into the driveway. My fingers shook as I keyed in the code for the people gate, and as soon as I was inside, I punched the button to close it as fast as possible. But it wasn’t fast enough. The man squeezed through.
I could barely see him in the darkness, only his form. What happened to the security lights? The floodlights that usually lit up when there was movement in the backyard? Adrenaline pumped through me, and I burst into a sprint and sucked in a breath to scream. As I circled the pool, running for the main house, a hand landed on my shoulder. An electric jolt charged through me, and the scream erupted. Remembering what Brock told me, I reached back and grabbed his wrist with both hands, threw my shoulder backwards into his chest, bent my knees, and thrust. He flipped around and over, headed for the pool.
“Hey!” he barked, grabbing at me for balance. He managed to grasp my wrist, and I screamed again as I fell in after him.
Chapter 13
8 Months Ago
Water immediately filled my mouth and lungs, choking and drowning me. My arms flailed, and my legs kicked. Darkness surrounded me, and I couldn’t find my way up to the surface, to the sweet air above. The man’s hand gripped my arm, tugging at me, and I kicked harder hoping to connect with some part of his body—his balls would suffice—while I tried to escape. Bubbles surrounded us, and muffled sounds swooshed in my ears. His arm wrapped around my waist, too strong for me to fight, and he pulled me farther down, pushing my head toward the bottom. I was going to die.
When I expected to hit my head against the unforgiving concrete, cool air suddenly blasted me instead.
I coughed and spurted water as my attacker’s head broke the surface. More liquid spewed from my mouth as his arm tightened around me, and he swam me over to the underwater seat in the corner of the deep end. His hands gripped my waist as he sat me on the ledge. I gasped again as I stared into Brock’s face with wide eyes, water dripping down my forehead, into my eyes, and over my face.
“Are you okay?” he asked as he bobbed in front of me, his breaths coming out hard and fast.
I coughed some more, clearing the rest of the water from my lungs, eventually nodded, and then threw my arms around him. My body shook from both fear and relief, as well as the chill in the air. His arms were warm around me, his body hot against mine. The heated pool made the water much warmer than the air, so I slid off the seat to submerse myself so only my head remained above the surface, inches from Brock’s.
“I’m so sorry,” I breathed as he tread water, and I held onto him. “I didn’t know it was you.”
He chuckled, and I thrilled at the sound I’d missed more than I cared to admit. “Glad to see my lessons stuck. Nice trick, by the way, landing me in the water. If you wanted to be back in my arms, you only needed to tell me, though.”
My eyes rounded, and I tried to squirm away from him. “I didn’t mean to. I swear. I didn’t even know—”
“Asia,” he said quietly, reeling me back against him, “please tell me you want to be back in my arms. Because this is exactly where I want to be.”
I stared at him, my heart pounding in my chest for a new reason now. Chills swept over me, and not from the cool air any more.
“In the pool in your clothes?” I asked. “That’s where you want to be?”
“In the pool or anywhere, if that’s where you are,” he murmured. “Preferably not in my clothes, though.”
Our eyes locked for a moment, his inquiring. I had all kinds of questions, too, but also answers. Especially the one he sought.
“I want to be here, too,” I admitted in a barely audible whisper, but he must have heard me loud and clear because his mouth crashed into mine.
His lips were soft and warm and wet, urgently moving against mine as though he’d been the one drowning and I was his breath of air. And I returned the kiss just as urgently because he was the breath I’d needed for so long. His tongue swept out, licking the water from my lips before pressing against the seam between them. I parted my mouth, letting him in, wanting all of him in and a part of me. As our kiss deepened, and we sank lower into the water, all of the backyard lights suddenly came on, including the pool light.
“Hello?” Hope called out, and we broke the kiss to look at her. “Is someone out—oh! Sorry! Carry on!”
The yard returned to darkness, and a giggle tumbled over the air right before the door closed. Brock and I turned back to each other, and he chuckled before coming in for another kiss. Hot and desperate again, as though that brief moment apart had been a lifetime. He pulled me closer to him, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, pressing my boobs against his hard chest. As our mouths moved together, he swam us over to the side of the pool where he could stand, although I couldn’t. He used his body to pin me against the side, our heads below the pool’s edge and our shoulders still under water. His hands cupped my face, and his thumbs slid over my cheeks, pushing the wet strands of hair out of the way. Each stroke was like the strike of a match against my skin, enflaming me with heat.
His mouth slid away from my lips and down to my chin, then up along my jawline.
“God, I’ve missed you so much,” he murmured against the curve of my jaw just below my ear, sending shivers through my body.
“I’ve missed you, too,” I said as I arched my neck toward him. The movement caused my hard nipples to push into his chest, and I couldn’t help the moan.
“Damn, girl. I want you so badly.” He rocked his hips, showing me how much. His erection pushed against the thin material of our shorts, the hardness rubbing me in just the right spot between my open legs. I tightened them around his waist, returning the stroke against him. Now he moaned. “I fucking need you so badly, Asia.”
His mouth returned to mine, open, his tongue probing. Mine met it, swirled against it, tasting him, and trying to drink him in as he tried to devour me. His fingertips skated over my shoulders and down my sides until his hands gripped my waist, his thumbs sliding between us and pressing into the sensitive area of where my thighs met my pelvis. The tickle caused my hips to jerk toward him, and we both groaned with the pressure against our most sensitive parts.
