Always Been You

by Beverley Kendall

  “I honestly don’t know what you want me to say.” Actually, I’m pretty sure he wants me to tell him I’m ready to have sex with him.

  Colin looks restless as he pushes to his feet. “I want you to tell me there’s nothing going on with you and Ridgefield.”

  My jaw goes slack on a sharp intake of breath. “I can’t believe you’re starting that again.”

  “That’s the reason you’re mad at me. Because I brought up moving in with you in front of him.” There’s a raw bitterness to his voice that causes guilt to prick at my conscience.

  Turning, I pace over to the table in the dining area, my fingers closing around the slat of the ladder-back chair. I take a deep breath and speak as calmly as I can. “I’m upset that you brought it up in front of anyone at all. And the only reason you asked was to get a rise out of him because you know our relationship isn’t close to us living together.”

  His expression gets cloudy. “Our relationship isn’t close to anything because of him.”

  “Us not having sex has nothing to do with Troy.” Which is true. If I’d had sex with him, it would have been about getting over Troy.

  Colin’s not having it, gesturing wildly toward the front door. “Bullshit. You should see the two of you together. He walks into your apartment like he owns it. You spend I don’t even know how much time together.”

  “First of all, he’s my friend. And second, we’ve barely hung out since we got together.” I’ve been doing everything I can think of to make this relationship work and this is what I get? He has no idea the sacrifices I’ve made for him.

  Colin brushes off my denial with a shake of his head. “He’s not only interested in being your friend, even if that’s all you want.”

  I want to tell him Troy doesn’t know what he wants. Sometimes I think he convinces himself he wants me, and then…nothing. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He doesn’t have the slightest clue about what Troy wants. Or who.

  He makes a derisive sound in his throat. “I might not have figured you out, but I got your boy’s number a long time ago.”

  Ha. If Colin has his number, I wish he’d give it to me. When it comes to Troy these days, I need a roadmap to figure out what’s going on inside his head.

  “He’s jealous. That’s why he hates me,” Colin continues, relentless in his argument.

  “He doesn’t hate you.” Troy just doesn’t like him. Big difference. “And he’s not jealous of you,” I assure him. Thinking Colin’s not good enough for me doesn’t equate to jealousy by any stretch of the imagination.

  A hollow laugh escapes his lips as he stares at me, his expression almost pitying. “If that’s what you really think, then he really has you fooled.”

  “Colin, Troy and I have known each other since kindergarten. Don’t you think if we wanted to be together, we would be?” I reason softly.

  “Believe whatever you want, you will anyway,” he mutters, his eyes shadowed. “All I know is that I feel like I’m trying to row up a fuckin’ creek without a paddle.”

  A deep-boned weariness steals over me, sapping every bit of my energy. Why is this so hard? Why does it feel like I’m trying to shove a square peg into a round hole? I’m trying and trying…and failing at every turn.

  “So what are you saying, Colin? You’re tired of waiting?”

  He stares at me, unblinking. After an excruciatingly long time, he says, “Maybe you need to figure out what you want. I know I want you but it’s clear to me you don’t feel the same.”

  “That’s not true,” I reply softly.

  He sounds sad when he asserts, “It is, April. It is.”

  This time I don’t deny it. I’m afraid he might be right.

  Right now I’m not sure whether he’s breaking up with me or the other way around. But I know something is happening.

  Neither of us says anything. I can tell by the way he’s watching me that he’s waiting—maybe even hoping—for me to say something to stop the clock from winding down on us. Our doomed-from-the-start relationship.

  “I’m going to head home now.”

  After all the sighing, and dark looks of resignation, he plans to leave things between us unfinished? No, I don’t think so.

  “You never answered my question. Are you tired of waiting?” He’s not leaving this room until I know exactly where we stand. But I’m sure as hell not going to be the one who ends it. Not after all the sacrifices I made to make this relationship work.

  “What’s the point of waiting when I don’t see an end in sight? I mean damn, it’s been over three months and you still don’t want to have sex. Maybe things between us weren’t meant to work.”

  Sadly, I agree with everything he says. I’m not saying that I like it, but he’s right. He’s a great guy and any girl in her right mind would have dropped her panties for him a long time ago. I’m just not that girl as much as I wanted and tried to be.

  Damn Troy. This is his fault. My inability to move on; to make a relationship work. My inability to get excited at the prospect of having sex with my boyfriends.

  All. Troy’s. Fault.

  “Maybe you’re right.” I’ve been fighting it for a while, but it’s time for me to concede that we’re over.

  Colin briefly glances away but not before I see a flash of hurt cross his face. His mouth goes tight and unhurried steps bring him until he’s inches in front of me. Standing this close to him, breathing in his sandalwood cologne, I mentally berate myself. Why can’t I be totally nuts about him?

  Maybe I’m one of those people who only wants what I can’t have. At least not the way I want it.

  He leans in and presses a kiss on my cheek. Then my lips. And I let him because I know this is it. Both kisses are soft and fleeting, and I have to blink several times to hold back my tears.

  “Take care, April.”

  I’m so close to caving, to telling him I’ll have sex with him right now, I have to bite my bottom lip to keep the words from tumbling out. But that would be wrong. The last time I’d felt guilted into having sex, felt pressured because of the days on a calendar, I ended up hurting Steve. I don’t want to do that to Colin.

  I form a reply in my mind but I’m too choked up to get it past the lump in my throat.

  “Don’t be a stranger,” he whispers.

  All I can offer is a watery nod.

  Seconds later, he’s gone.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  We just broke up.

  I lean back against the entry wall and let it sink in. On the other wall across from me hangs the mirror my sister gave me as a housewarming gift. It’s gold, hexagonal in shape and embossed with leaves. It’s one of my favorite gifts from her. But the girl that’s reflected from its surface looks forlorn and confused.

  Inhaling deeply, I will myself not to cry and I remind myself that I’m not lonely, just alone for now. My heart is heavy not broken.

  As I stand staring sightlessly at my reflection, the door reverberates with several brisk knocks, accompanied by, “April, open up.”

  I press my hand against my chest, where my heart tried to bolt out of its cavity.

  Of course it has to be Troy because my night couldn’t possibly get worse. Why I let him in, I don’t know, but I do.

  He takes one look at my face and asks, “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” I reply woodenly, closing the door after he steps inside.

  “Don’t give me that. You look upset. Did that asshole—”

  Furious, I hold up my hand to halt what he’s going to say. “Don’t! Don’t you dare call him that.”

  Appearing slightly alarmed by my reaction, he raises his hands in surrender and mimics waving a white flag. “Sorry. Did Johnson do something that’s going to force me to kick his Armani-wearing ass?”

  I glare at him. “Yeah, like that’s so much better.”

  With a toss of my hair, I turn and storm back to the living room and resume my seat on the couch. Troy follows in silence, and
then has the nerve to sit beside me. Doesn’t he know I’m mad at him?

  “What happened?” he asks, concern softening his expression.

  I stubbornly think about not telling him, but if I didn’t want to talk to him I wouldn’t have let him in. “We broke up,” I state simply.

  Troy doesn’t look the least bit surprised, and if he’s feeling anything else—like joy—he’s smart enough to not let it show in his expression. He shifts closer to me and I fold my legs up against my chest, resting my chin on my knees.

  “Because you wouldn’t let him move in?” That’s one of the things I really appreciate about Troy, he’s not going to say things he doesn’t mean like, I’m sorry you guys broke up. He was never a fan and that’s not going to change now we’re no longer together.

  “No. Yes. No. Not exactly.” I let out a heavy sigh and tip my head to the side so I can look him in the eye. “It was for a whole bunch of reasons.”

  A part of me wants to tell him it’s his fault. Thank goodness the pragmatic part of me knows what a disastrous idea that is. But I do wonder how he’d react if he knew the role he played in the breakup.

  I know. I know. Ten years from now when I’m happily married to the love of my life, it’ll make Liv and Rebecca’s romances look like a horror show. I’ll think back to this moment and wonder how I could ever have thought such a thing. I’ll realize how young and shortsighted I was to think the love I felt for Troy is anything more than infatuation. Or let’s say it is real love, that I wouldn’t eventually get over it and move on.

  He leans forward and rests his forearms on his jean-clad thighs. “You want to talk about it?”

  Do I want to talk about it? Do I look crazy?

  I let out a choked laugh. “Uh, no.”

  “What’s upsetting you the most?”

  Damn, but he’s stubborn.

  “Troy, which part of no I don’t want to talk about it didn’t you understand? English isn’t a second or third language to either of us.” When I’m cranky, snarky is my middle name. He knows that.

  He edges closer until he’s grazing my side. He’s hard and warm and as usual, looks amazing. You wouldn’t think that less than twenty minutes ago I’d gotten out of a relationship the way my body responds to his proximity. Nipples peak and go on high alert. Tingling starts between my thighs. Old girl hasn’t had any in a long time. I really must be cursed because the one guy who gets the juices flowing is the one sitting too close to me.

  “Talk to me. That’s what I’m here for.”

  I hold my breath against the onslaught of his cologne and pray he doesn’t make the mistake of—

  Too late.

  His arm curls over my shoulder and pulls me against him. I breathe him in because I can’t do anything but that with my nose now in the vicinity of his neck. But that doesn’t mean I have to inhale him like a drug addict doing a line of coke. I only just manage to refrain from burrowing into him and luxuriating in how good he feels. That’s the part I need to forget.

  “We just didn’t click. It happens. It’s no big deal,” I state, but the matter-of-factness of my tone is spoiled by a telling sniffle.

  His response is to pull me closer and place a soft kiss on my forehead.

  If I didn’t feel so vulnerable and needy right now, I would have gathered the strength to extricate myself from his embrace and send him home. But my current emotional malaise has me soaking up his sympathy like a dry sponge.

  “I can’t believe he had the balls to ask you to move in.”

  When I tip my head back to look at him, the annoyance in his voice is reflected in the stormy gray of his eyes.

  “What’s wrong with a guy wanting to be with me enough to want to live with me?” I know perfectly well that’s not what he means, but he doesn’t have the right to criticize Colin when part of this is his fault.

  “Come on, April, he’s known you for, what, three months?” he scoffs.

  I try to pull away but his arm tightens around me, keeping me locked at his side. “That’s not the reason I said no.”

  “Yeah? So if you guys were hot and heavy, you still would’ve said no?” He cocks an eyebrow.

  “No. What I mean is the only way I would live with a guy in this situation is if there was nothing going on between us. That way if things go south, we never have to see each other again. Which would be kinda hard if we still lived together.”

  Troy tips his chin and looks down at me through hooded eyes. “So you wouldn’t mind having a guy as a roommate?” The tone of his voice is a mixture of surprise and skepticism.

  “Why not?” I say with a shrug. “As long as he abides by house rules and Em and I get along with him, I don’t see any problems.” Honestly, living with a guy might work out better than with another female, all things being equal.

  “Then you wouldn’t have anything against me moving in, right?”

  The abject look of horror on April’s face is one I should capture for the memory books. You’d think I’d told her she’s pregnant with Satan’s baby.

  She doesn’t just push me away, she scrambles hastily to her feet and stares down at me, her dark curls swishing around her bare shoulders as she frantically shakes her head. She opens her mouth once, twice, three times, but no sound emerges.

  Of course she’s shocked. I’ll give her time to take it in. Absorb it.

  After a long beat of silence, she drops her arms to her sides and lets out a high-pitched laugh. “Very funny.” She quickly sobers and says, “That’s not nice.”

  She thinks I’m mocking Johnson. I give her a small smile. “I’m not kidding. Why not me? I’m looking for a place right now.”

  Her smile falters, her brow crinkling in confusion. “You’re moving out? But why?”

  “Because I don’t want to live with my best friend and his girl.”

  “Yeah, but you guys have been living in each other’s pockets for the past two years. What difference is it going to make if Liv is officially put on the lease?”

  “Hey, don’t get me wrong, I love Liv to death, but after she moves in she’s always going to be there. With Pearson. It’ll be like living with a married couple. Or worse, honeymooners.”

  She rolls her eyes and sucks her teeth. “What are you complaining about? She cooks for you guys. Meals that, theoretically belong to this apartment.”

  “Why? All you girls know how to cook.”

  “Knowing how to cook doesn’t mean we always want to or like to do it.”

  True. I know how to wash dishes and clean bathrooms, but neither is high on my list of favorite activities.

  “Come on, April. You wouldn’t want to be the third wheel any more than I do. And this isn’t really about me. Pearson would never ask me to leave, but do you honestly think they want me living with them? Don’t you think they’d love to have the place to themselves, and never have to worry if I can hear them screwing their brains out from across the hall?”

  April chuckles at that before lapsing into silence. And it’s the honest to God truth. If being a third wheel had bothered me that much, I would have found a place last year. Mitch is right. Them officially moving in together changes the dynamics of mine and Pearson’s current living arrangements. My gift to them is to give them their privacy. That it conveniently sets things up so April and I can room together is a lucky bonus.

  After a thoughtful pause, she shakes her head again. “Regardless, we can’t live together. That totally would not work.”

  “Why not?”

  April sinks back down onto the couch, her gaze steady on me. “I have no problem living with a guy. Another guy,” she says, making sure to stress the latter.

  “Okay, tell me what you’re afraid of. What do you think I’ll do?”

  “Troy, almost everyone thinks we’ve got a friends-with-benefits thing going on. What do you think they would say if they found out we’re roommates?”

  “That we’ve made it one hundred percent more convenient?” I tease.

&
nbsp; “You’re a regular comedian, aren’t you?”

  I can’t help but laugh. “What do you want me to say? People are going to think whatever they want. And like you give a fuck what they think anyway. You know I don’t.”

  “Okay, have you ever thought it could” —she motions vaguely with her hands—“will make things difficult when either of us starts seeing someone…significant? Look what happened with Melissa,” she points out.

  And Courtney, Katie and Allie. But there’s no reason for her to know about them. It would only give her the ammunition she’s looking for to tell me no.

  I lean forward, my gaze on her intent. “You know the night at the restaurant with Melissa?”

  April nods.

  “That night she gave me an ultimatum, you or her. Of course, I picked you because whoever I date is going to have to accept that you’re not only going to always be in my life but that you’re a very important part of my life.”

  Her eyes immediately go soft and warm and again I’m struck by just how fuckin’ gorgeous she is. She’s wearing white pants and a striped-green top that molds her perfect tits. I have to struggle to keep my gaze from drifting below her neck. My best friend is beyond hot; she’s also completely distracting.

  She covers my hand with hers. Her touch is soft, her fingers slim and tapered. “You’re important to me too. But accepting me as your friend and accepting that we’re living together are two very different things. How would you feel about your girlfriend rooming with a guy?”

  The same way I felt when I heard that asshole ex-boyfriend of hers jonesing to convince her to move in with her. Not very nice, that’s how.

  “As long as I trust her, I wouldn’t have a problem with it.”

  “Yeah, right,” she says, looking extremely doubtful.

  I laugh. “Seriously, I’m not kidding.”

  She smiles and all I can think of is how beautiful her lips are. Pink, plump and perfectly bow-shaped. And that they taste as good as they look.

  She playfully slaps my lower thigh, and that innocent gesture goes straight to my dick. “You’re so full of it. Trust takes time, and you won’t know her well enough at the beginning to trust her. Every time you drop her off at her apartment after your dates, you’ll be wondering if she’s going straight to her best friend’s” —she air quotes the two words— “bedroom for dessert.”