Come Alive (The Cityscape Series)

by Jessica Hawkins

  He chuckled. “That’s never happened to me.”

  “I never stop thinking about work, no matter how hard I try. I’m always thinking about how the vacation is setting me back. And so is Bill. The one trip we took, he brought paperwork with him, and he worked a few hours a day because he had to. And I checked my e-mail, so I wouldn’t miss anything important. And the things is, I never did miss anything, because at the end of the day, life goes on without me.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes. The office runs, and life goes on. When I was an assistant editor, I undertook most of Diane’s workload. I always assumed that if I didn’t do it, nobody would. But somehow it got done during that one vacation.”

  “And making love?”

  “What?”

  “There’s the plan to make love sweetly.”

  “Oh, you think you will. And you try. But when you’re stuffed, burnt and exhausted, making love suddenly doesn’t seem so appealing.”

  “So it doesn’t happen?” he asked, hope dripping off the question like honey.

  “No, it happens,” I said. “But it’s not how you imagined it. On the beach, it’s scratchy and painful. Sand gets places it should never be. And that’s the last time you’ll ever make that mistake.”

  “Mistake,” he repeated with a snort. “Sounds like you’re doing it wrong.”

  I swallowed hard. “We’re here.”

  He peered into the restaurant, scanning the crowd. When his eyes returned, they were calm, and they made me feel calm.

  I touched my hair. “I probably shouldn’t say this, but . . .”

  He arched an eyebrow, an amused smile tugging at his lips.

  “I like having you around,” I confessed. “I know I’m tense. But with you, I feel . . . better.” I bit my bottom lip. “I shouldn’t have run out on you the way I did. It was childish. I guess what I’m saying is, I’d really like it if we could be friends.”

  He looked up at the sky and laughed in a short burst of air.

  “I’m serious, David. It’s the only way to be in each other’s lives. Can you manage that?”

  He broke into a wide, shit-eating grin. “Can you?”

  I stuck my hand out between us. “Friends?” I asked.

  My body practically shook with his answering handshake. Any amusement on his face was then replaced with determination. “How are you getting home?”

  I thought a moment. “Probably the train.”

  “You could also take a cab.”

  I smiled. “I’ll consider it.”

  He smiled back at me. “Okay, Miss Olivia.” In one swift movement, he leaned in and froze. My breath caught as his face hovered just above mine. After a long moment, he rerouted his swoop and planted a gentle kiss on my cheek. “Goodnight, friend,” he said softly.

  “Goodnight,” I echoed with my heart pounding in my ears.

  I wasn’t sure how long I stood there after he’d walked away. Gretchen appeared, somewhere from the shadows, and gave me a strong hug. I hadn’t divulged the reason for our emergency dinner so when she pulled back, I shook my head at her. “You big fat liar.”

  Her eyes widened fractionally and then narrowed. “That asshole. He went to see you, didn’t he?”

  “Yes.”

  She groaned and pulled open the door to the restaurant. “I knew Greg would do that, even though I specifically said – ”

  “Pause. What the hell is going on?”

  “Liv,” she said, her tone softening. “You know I could never say no to him.” She smiled automatically at the hostess and told her cheerily, “Two for dinner.”

  “So what does this mean?” I asked, tailing her to the table.

  “Well, we’re – I don’t know, trying again. He moved here this summer, but I didn’t agree to see him until a few weeks ago.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  She stopped behind her chair and sighed. After a moment, she pulled it out and sat down. “You haven’t exactly been available lately.”

  Understanding quickly set in. It was my fault she hadn’t told me. I’d barely even asked about her life the past few months. “Oh,” was all I said and plopped into my chair.

  “But I’m relieved that you know,” she continued. “I’ve really been needing someone to talk to.”

  “Isn’t it going well?”

  “Yes.” She grinned. “But it’s hard keeping it to myself.”

  I nodded knowingly. “So tell me then.”

  She gave me the short history of their new relationship. I wasn’t surprised by the way he’d worn her down; he’d always been charming and despite her cool exterior, she’d always had a soft spot for him.

  “It’s weird,” she said, dipping a chip into chunky guacamole. “Things feel both different and the same.”

  “What’s different?”

  “We’re both more mature. He seems more open to a relationship. It was his idea to become exclusive right off the bat.”

  “So you’re not seeing anyone else?”

  “No. I guess he’s like my boyfriend.”

  I laughed. “When was the last time you had a boyfriend?”

  “Nobody noteworthy since him,” she replied, laughing with me.

  “How’s the sex?”

  “We haven’t done it yet. Er, again.”

  “What?” I screeched.

  “If we sleep together, then I’m really in it.”

  “If I know the two of you, that’s not going to last long.”

  “I know. I just want to be as certain as possible.”

  “Do you trust him?”

  “He insists that this time is different, but . . .”

  I set my chin in my palm and told her I hoped it would be. Greg was a decent guy, and the way he’d abandoned her was out of character. Still . . . there were no guarantees when it came to matters of the heart. If that was what she wanted, she needed someone like Bill, not Greg.

  Unable to give her the assurance she needed, I changed the subject. “Greg mentioned a party?”

  “The PR firm is hosting a soft opening next weekend. I’m supposed to invite people.”

  “All right, count us in.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, why not?”

  “You haven’t wanted to do anything lately, and I know Bill doesn’t really like that sort of thing.”

  “Well, I said I would try, didn’t I? What’s it for?”

  “That gigantic new hotel on the River. Revelin, I think? They’re doing a test run to make sure the staff and everything is up to standard.”

  “Oh.” Revelin. David’s hotel. I rolled my lips together and nodded, trying to hide my surprise. Her eyes skimmed my face knowingly.

  “What?” I asked when she didn’t speak.

  “I saw you earlier.”

  “Where?”

  “Out front, with David.”

  “Oh.” My body warmed with embarrassment, and I tucked some hair behind my ear.

  “He kissed you.”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s not what it looked like. It was just a peck on the cheek.”

  “Um, that’s exactly what it looked like. Why are you even together?”

  “I don’t want to talk about this.”

  “Olivia, are you guys . . . Is this . . .” She paused and shifted in her chair. “Are you having an affair?” she asked with a lowered voice.

  “No,” I insisted.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  I gaped at her. “We are not sleeping together.”

  She nervously rotated her glass of water on the table. “Please tell me you aren’t going to do anything stupid.”

  “No,” I said, but it came out as a whisper.

  “Are you thinking about it?”

  I shook my head emphatically.

  “Are you lying?”

  I just blinked at her, trying to look offended.

  “I know his type,” she said, her tone heavy with warning. “He’s a pla
yer with a capital ‘P’.”

  “I know that.”

  “Do you? I get that it’s tempting, he is a god. And yes, you clearly have chemistry. But I’m afraid he sees you as some kind of challenge. Guys like that have fucked over me and many of my friends. But you have way more at stake.” She paused, searching my face. “Think of what it would do to your marriage. You would regret it.”

  How could I tell her that I’d already done it, and that I didn’t regret it at all? At least not for the reasons I should? I looked down. Grains of salt were scattered over the table. I studied them, forming them into abstract patterns.

  “Olivia?”

  I nodded finally. No one had more concerns than myself. I knew I wasn’t the only person under his spell; he could have anyone with the snap of his fingers. Why, then, was I tempted to put everything on the line for him? Gretchen was right. But I feared I’d wandered too far down that path to find my way back.

  “So I guess you still have feelings for him,” she said, sighing.

  I opened my mouth, gulping for air. “I don’t know. He’s helping out with the Oak Park house.”

  Her eyebrows joined. “Isn’t that weird?”

  “Of course it’s weird, but you were there after the wedding. What was I supposed to do when Andrew brought it up? Forbid them from seeing each other? That wouldn’t raise a red flag at all.”

  “Well, look. He’s with Dani now anyway, right?”

  “Seems that way,” I said, directing my scowl at the table.

  “So let her have him. If he’s going to break someone’s heart, I’d rather it was hers than yours.”

  I smiled so she wouldn’t notice my dejection.

  “Speaking of the house,” she continued, “any news?”

  “We should hear back any day now.”

  “Are you ready for all that?”

  “I don’t know, I guess so.” My conversation with David, fresh in my mind, hadn’t given me any answers. But as usual, opening up to him was easy and left me feeling better. It also left me more confused.

  “Well, I hate that you’ll be leaving the city, but I am excited for you. This is a big step.”

  I nodded. “You’ll come visit, won’t you?”

  “Of course,” she said, but her smile waned.

  CHAPTER 11

  BURGUNDY LEATHER AND DARK WOOD made up Bill’s office, and it smelled intentionally rich. Sturdy, essential-looking volumes lined the room like wallpaper. It had been a few nights since my dinner with Gretchen, and I hadn’t seen much of Bill that week because of a big case. Knowing he was in for another late night, I’d decided to surprise him.

  “This is a treat.” He rounded the mahogany desk to embrace me. “Everything okay?”

  “Yep. I haven’t been here in a while, so I thought I’d make sure you’ve still got my photo up.”

  He plucked a frame from his desk and showed it to me. It was from the one time I had agreed to go on the fishing boat, and we were smiling from behind sunglasses and goofy hats.

  “Great,” I said. “So I’ll stop by again next year.”

  “Har-har.” He pulled me back into his arms. “Actually, I’m glad you’re here. I have something to tell you.”

  “Okay,” I prompted.

  “I just heard back from Jeanine about the house. We didn’t get it.”

  “Oh.” I exhaled loudly. I felt simultaneously relieved and disappointed. “Why not?”

  “She didn’t say, but she’s going to find out and get back to us.”

  “Well, that sucks,” I said.

  “Yeah it does,” he agreed. “I’m sorry.”

  I looked down at his arms around me. “It’s not your fault. You were so sweet to go through the trouble. Thank you.”

  For some reason, the tense way he rubbed his eyes made me feel overwhelmingly guilty. I’d spent late nights trying not to wish that life away, and maybe on some level I had willed it. Was this my fault?

  “I know we’ll find something else,” he said. “I’m just so tired of this whole process.”

  “Maybe we should take a break for a while,” I suggested.

  “No, I don’t want to do that.” He paused for a deep sigh. “How was your day?”

  “It was all right. I missed you.”

  He smiled. “Me too. Speaking of fishing,” he said, gesturing to the photograph behind him, “Hugh and the guys invited us on the boat next weekend. Interested?”

  “Gretchen’s party is that weekend. I mentioned it a couple days ago.”

  “Oh. I don’t remember that. I’ll tell them no.”

  “No, it’s okay. You should go, sweetie.”

  “Without you?”

  “I won’t be any fun without Lucy, and she’ll still be on her honeymoon.”

  “True. What about the party?”

  “Well, maybe I’ll go with Gretchen and Greg. Gosh, that is so weird to say. I still cannot believe they’re back together.”

  “Which one is Greg?”

  “Honey, seriously? I also told you this the other night. Greg, from college. The one who ditched Gretchen to move to Japan.”

  “Yeah, sorry. I’ve had a lot on my mind with work and the house. That’s exciting, I guess.”

  “You guess?”

  “Just don’t get your hopes up.”

  “Why?”

  “You know her. She’s a floozy.”

  “A floozy?” I repeated.

  “Come on, she’s always with a new guy. If I knew this Greg, I would warn him,” he said with a chuckle.

  “You would not. This is different for her. They’re like college sweethearts.”

  “Whatever, Livs, I don’t want to talk about Gretchen. Are you sure you don’t mind that I go fishing?”

  “No,” I said, clearing some hair from his face. “I don’t mind. Tell them yes.”

  “Great.” He kissed my cheek. “You’re the best.”

  “Do you want to go get dinner?”

  “Shit, I really can’t. If I don’t keep on track I’ll have to come in this weekend.”

  “Okay. I’ll see you at home then.”

  “Liv?”

  “Hmm?”

  “I’m really glad that you’re, uh, doing better. I hope losing the house won’t change that.”

  “Um.” I felt the color leave my face. I could only think of one terrible reason for the change. “Yeah,” I said. “I mean no. I don’t think it will.”

  “Good.” He kissed me on the cheek again and glanced at the closed door. “Also . . .”

  “Yes?”

  “It’s been a while since we . . . You know.”

  I nodded in agreement. “It has been a long while.”

  “Think we could give it another go?’

  “Of course,” I agreed. “Now?”

  “No.” He laughed.

  “Why not?” I touched his crotch, and his shoulders stiffened.

  “Liv, no,” he insisted, trying to push my hand away, but I was already undoing his pants. I raised an eyebrow and backed away to lock his door.

  “I’m not sure this is a good idea . . . ,” he protested.

  “The office is almost empty,” I pointed out.

  I went to sit on his desk when he stopped me. “Jesus, not on the legal briefs. The couch.”

  He walked over and lay lengthwise across it. I climbed up and settled into a straddle over his hips. His hands gripped my hips before bunching up the fabric of my skirt.

  “Honey,” I said, leaning over so we were face to face. “I want to go slow.”

  “I would like that, too.” He pecked me on the lips. “And finally no condom,” he whispered, tucking some hair behind my ear.

  “Well, there were a couple times in the beginning.”

  “But you always freaked out halfway through.” We laughed and pecked again. When I drew back, his smile had fallen away. He pressed his lips to mine, holding me by my nape. I felt the passion behind his kiss, but there was something ghostly about it; a s
hadow of a kiss, a kiss that seemed to go right through me. It made me feel suddenly tired and dry, like my eyes had been open for days.

  He ran one hand up my blouse and massaged my breast. My nipple swelled into his palm, and he put it in his mouth. His lips kissed down my sternum, and he sat up to urge me onto my back. His mouth continued over my belly until finding its way under my skirt. I could count on one hand the number of times that he’d gone down on me, so I gasped when his mouth closed over me.

  “How’s that?” he asked after a moment, glancing up at me.

  “Fine,” I exhaled. “Actually, you can be less . . . gentle,” I instructed tentatively. I can do this, I thought. I can make this happen. I reached down to spread myself wider and circled my other hand over my clit.

  I can do this, I recited to myself. I remembered Bill as my boyfriend, my fiancé, my husband. We had history. We had a present and a future. His touch was familiar; it was just for me, and mine was for him. I bowed my back and moved my hand faster, frustrated that my body didn’t respond the way I wanted it to. “Finger me . . . Yes,” I breathed when he touched me. “More.”

  “More what?”

  “More fingers.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  It took a moment until I felt the pressure. I was still rubbing myself, and he pulled his mouth away to watch. Come on, come on, I pleaded. After what felt like ten minutes, but what could have been two, I told him I was ready.

  He was over me in a moment, groaning as he entered me. “Shit. Why don’t we do this more often?” His face distorted with pleasure as he found his rhythm. He kissed his way down my neck, and then up to my jawline. I appealed to the ceiling, praying for more than what I had to give.

  But my body was still broken.

  I wasn’t sure what inside of me had surfaced that night with David, but it wasn’t present now. An orgasm wasn’t even within reach. As Bill worked on top of me, sadness settled inside of me.

  “Oh, babe,” he said between gritted teeth. “I can’t wait, I’m so sensitive. I’m going to come.”

  “Bill,” I uttered, gripping his arms. “Pull out.”