The most important discussion in my life was about to be had and I was going to wing it.
I smirked as I unlocked the Civic and climbed inside.
Would Will expect anything less?
Chapter Thirty-One
He was inside. I knew it. I just couldn’t pry myself from the relative safety of Chris’s car. Not yet. So I waited, taking calming breaths until it was clear that nothing would stop the shaking. Then I grabbed up my purse, peered carefully in the side mirror to make sure no traffic was coming, and threw open the door.
My boots were loud on the concrete as I hurried out of the middle of the street, mimicking the pounding of my heart. I crossed over to the sidewalk by walking around the front of the Civic, which I’d parked behind Will’s police cruiser.
“You can do this, Gracie,” I muttered as I walked up to his door, the bright lights of the duplex seeming to welcome me.
Was he sitting by the window, waiting for me to get there? He’d admitted that he knew I’d been there the night Emma had car trouble. She hadn’t ratted me out, after all. He’d seen my car himself somehow. That had been the prompt for the simple text that night, not his daughter.
If he was spying on the outdoors now, would Chris’s car parked out front lull him into a false sense of security? Would he really think that his friend would race over here instead of me? Would he be mad at me for engaging in a covert action?
None of that mattered, for it wasn’t Will who answered the door when I worked up the courage to knock. After all the build up with the deliberate unlatching of the deadbolt first, then the lock on the doorknob, it was Emma that appeared before me.
We stood on opposite sides of the threshold for a split second, taking each other in. She was dressed for a night of studying, which was sad because it was Friday. Clad in a pair of yoga pants and a tee, earbuds hung around her neck. I could hear a dull roar emitting from them, though I couldn’t make out the song. A quick survey of the room behind her confirmed my suspicion. Her laptop was open, resting on the floor. In front of it was a spiral notebook, open to a page with a massive amount of writing etched upon it, a ball point pen perched on top.
She did not look as surprised to see me as I did to see her.
She opened the screen door and stepped aside to allow me entrance. Tongue tied, I’d forgotten my manners, forgotten how to politely greet someone you were acquainted with. Instead, I offered her what I hoped came out as a smile.
“Bedroom,” she said simply.
I nodded, halfway down the hallway before I realized that she hadn’t given me directions there. She knew I didn’t need them.
She’d known all along.
The door to Will’s bedroom wasn’t latched, but it was partially closed, allowing a thin ribbon of light to spill out from inside. I debated knocking, but decided to just barge in and confront him without warning, before I lost my bravado.
Even then, I pushed open the door more hesitantly than I would have liked. Almost with no prologue I stood before him, only the slightest gust of wind created to announce my presence. Yet his eyes snapped instantly to mine, locking upon them and not letting go until I broke first.
He was perched on the bed, legs outstretched, barefoot. Though he was clad in the same jeans and button down shirt he’d worn over to my house, the shirt hung open, exposing a portion of his chest. His face was carefully blank, but his hair betrayed him. A quick glance at the auburn curls confirmed they’d been raked through by his fingers to within an inch of their life. His nervous habit.
My stomach clenched as I tried to decide if our mutual unease was a good or bad thing.
There was no time for a thesis on the state of our respective psyches, so I opened my mouth and powered through.
“I love you, too,” I stated. Why not lead off with the big guns?
“Gracie,” he whispered.
He intended to say more, but I cut him off by holding up my palm.
“Shut up, Will. I’m talking now.”
Despite himself, a small smile flitted across his features at the use of his own words against him.
We were interrupted by a loud noise coming from the living room, then trailing down the hallway. Emma’s steps were heavy against the floorboards, exaggerated on purpose.
“Dad,” she prefaced loudly seconds before she poked her head inside the room. It was odd to hear him called that, to think that he had given life to someone who by all outward appearances was a fully functioning member of society, but that was reality. And I was trying my damnedest to enter into it. “I’m going to spend the night at Jess’s.”
“Okay,” Will authorized, but it was apparent that she needn’t ask him for permission about much. Especially not this.
On further inspection, her advising of her whereabouts was a mere formality. She’d already changed out of the outfit she’d had on when she let me in, opting instead for jeans and a striped blouse. An overnight bag was slung over her shoulder, her cell phone still in hand.
How long had this little sleepover been planned? Instinct told me that she’d laid the framework about the time that he’d shown up at my door.
Emma caught my eye and winked, telling me I wasn’t far off target.
“Thank you,” I mouthed.
She nodded and exited. Since it seemed like the right thing to do, I waited until the front door slammed shut - on purpose, of course - to turn back to him and continue.
“I’m in love with you, Will, and I have been for a very long time. And maybe you don’t get what that means, but just know that I have never said that to anyone ever in my life. So this is big. Huge really.
“I thought that I could deal with our arrangement, that having you sexually would be enough to make up for the other part. That it would be better to have just that side of you when the alternative was to not have you at all. And it worked for a while. It worked until those weeks in Indy, when I started to feel a real connection to you.
“I always knew that you were a wonderful person. I mean, you were the reason that Matthew and Lauren got back together when they did. You played peacekeeper at their wedding, protecting Lauren from finding out that Eric was there. Separating Blake from Chris so they wouldn’t ruin things with their petty misunderstandings. Listening to Chris when he was conflicted about the miscarriage. You’re just all around nice. You probably stop what you’re doing to help little old ladies cross the street.
“But when we were together together, I started seeing you in a different light. When we were pretending that we were dating, I found myself wanting that to be true. I was crazy about you, and I did everything that I could to ignore it. Because you had always insisted that it wasn’t what you wanted. And I was so lost that I hung on every single word and committed it to memory so that I wouldn’t make you upset. So that you wouldn’t leave me.
“I get that you’re broken. I understand that Stephanie screwed you over, then helped you back up so that she could stomp all over your heart and screw you over again. I get it, Will. And I wasn’t lying when I told you that I don’t want kids. I don’t want to get married. Those aren’t just things I said to make you happy. I said those things because that’s who I am.
“But it wasn’t enough for you. It wasn’t enough to convince you that I was being honest. That I wasn’t feeding you lines. And that hurt, Will. It hurt that you didn’t take me seriously. It hurt that I couldn’t get you to let me in. And I got sick of trying to fight a losing battle and I gave up.
“I gave up and it gutted me. And I had no clue how you felt about it. And I had no one to talk to. But I made you a promise, and I suffered in silence. For the most part. I ended up telling Lauren’s dad, because he’s just Doug. And Matthew found out at the very end, because I was afraid of Blake setting me up with God knows who. I asked him to fix it, because I didn’t know how to.”
I paused, letting the words sink in. Better to let Will know that I’d betrayed him now, even with good intentions, than risk him findin
g out later. Expecting anger, shock, confusion, something, I instead was greeted with a blank stare.
“Matthew didn’t fix this, did he?” I whispered. “Because if he fed you a script that you read from to make me feel better, I need to know.”
He shook his head.
“Those were your words back there?” I pressed.
He nodded.
I let out the breath I’d been holding. Though I seriously doubted that he’d go to the lengths of telling me he loved me just to appease me, it was a giant weight lifted from my shoulders to know that he had been sincere.
“Good. Because I need you to be honest with me. I need you to tell me things, even if you think they’ll hurt. Because we can’t go anywhere if our foundation is built on lies. I want to learn everything about you, even the ugly parts. I’m sure there aren’t as many as you think.
“A long time ago, you and I were talking and you said that some people just can’t stay away from each other. Remember?”
I raised my eyebrow, prompting him for a verbal response.
“Of course.”
“That’s us in a nutshell. Isn’t it? So many barriers, so many boundaries, and yet here I am, standing in front of you and telling you how much I love you. There are a million reasons why this shouldn’t work, but a million and one why it does. And I don’t know about you, but I’m okay with those odds.”
Yet there was one burning question that I hadn’t addressed. The thought that stuck in my throat, that didn’t make sense.
“Will?” I asked softly, grabbing his rapt attention just the same as if I’d yelled to him. “Why did you say those things and then run?”
A thousand responses swirled in my head, all viable answers. Embarrassment, a test to see if I’d follow, a fishing expedition to learn my true intentions. None of those options was correct, and no amount of speculation prepared me for what he told me.
“I made you cry,” he replied just as softly. “I told you over and over that I would never do anything to hurt you. And you said it yourself: you don’t cry. And you never have, not even when you should have. Not before you walked out on me. Not after your accident, when you were bruised and sore and I fucked you and then yelled at you. Not when you had a panic attack later that night. Not since you were eight. And the one time you do, it’s after I told you I loved you.”
“Will,” I breathed, “It wasn’t because I was sad.”
“How was I supposed to know that?”
I crossed the room, impulsively climbing on his mattress and straddling him so that we were face to face. I touched my forehead to his, closing my eyes and relishing the fact that my sudden proximity to him could render him breathless.
“Because I can’t stay away from you. Because I’ve been trying to tell you for months that I was in love with you, and you were too blind to notice it. And then you invite yourself over and give me everything I’ve ever wanted on a silver platter. It was overwhelming. In a good way.”
Eyes still shut, I reached down for his hand, lacing my fingers through his.
“Maybe you weren’t so blind to it,” I mused. “Maybe it was more repressed than ignored. You alluded to it yourself. And you weren’t wrong.”
I felt, rather than saw, his eyebrows knot together in confusion. To explain, I lifted our joined hands, flattening them against my chest. My heart raced against our fingertips, its rapid cadence due in part to my nervousness, in part to the very noticeable warmth that pulsed lower in my body.
“I’ve never given this to anyone before, Will. And I can’t imagine it beating for anyone other than you.”
My eyes opened, brown to his green, and searched frantically for his reaction. Though his face didn’t offer any insight, he didn’t pull away. I felt naked, exposed, very much on display.
“I know you can’t say the same, and I don’t expect you to. I know you have a past and I can deal with that. Your past helped make you who you are, and I wouldn’t change anything about it.
“You don’t have to promise me anything, Will. Not tomorrow or ten years from now. I just care about right here, right now. We can figure everything else out in time.”
I untangled my fingers from his. While his hand remained against my breasts, mine traveled across the space between us, trailing down his chest. I bent over to lay a kiss upon his own heart, replacing my lips with my palm.
“Trust me with this, Will. Don’t think, just feel.”
He opened his mouth to say something, but I preempted him with a shake of my head. So we sat in silence, heads pressed together, fingers splayed over each other’s body. His breath was warm on my skin, mixed with my own. His heartbeat pounded against my hand, echoing mine underneath his. We stayed frozen in place, letting the moment wash over us until what had been said became too much to control.
In slow motion, as beautifully maneuvered as if it was scripted, his head raised as mine lowered and our lips met. The kiss began as sweet, tentative, but quickly escalated to passionate proportions. His tongue sought out mine, finding what it was looking for as he sighed into my mouth.
I raked my hands through his already disheveled hair as his hands grasped my hips, pulling me firmly into position on top of him. If there was any doubt what his intentions were, those were clearly erased by the hardness that pressed between my legs. It wasn’t like we’d ever had any issue in the attraction department, anyway.
With me where he wanted me, his hands slid underneath my shirt, caressing the bare skin beneath. They paused upon reaching the bottom of my bra, tracing the elastic around my ribs. So strangely sensual, him searching blindly inside my clothing as if he was unwrapping a gift. I felt, rather than saw, his eyebrows draw together as he considered something. Then he stopped kissing me, pulling his lips away just enough to ask me what he wanted to know.
“Is this one new?”
“Yes.”
Perhaps it would have freaked another woman out that her man could identify her lingerie by touch, but not me. I shivered, a fresh wave of desire surging through my veins.
“Let’s see,” he suggested.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
He made no move to lift my shirt, so I took it upon myself to pull away further to raise it over my own head. Not a quick disposal, mind you, but a tortuous, lingering one. His eyes burned into mine as he watched me undress, his need for me radiating through the air. His breathing was heavy, pronounced in the stillness of the room. I fed off his encouragement, emboldened more so by the ever growing appearance of his erection through his jeans.
“Beautiful,” Will whispered as my shirt slipped out of my fingers and to the floor.
I looked down to see through his eyes, unsure if he meant me in general or the pink and gray lace confection that I modeled for him. It didn’t really matter anyway.
“The panties match,” I said with a smile.
“Do they now?”
Clearly, he wasn’t in a waiting kind of mood for that reveal. In one grand gesture, he wrapped one arm about my shoulders and lowered me to the mattress. Then he was straddling me, one hand unbuttoning, the other unzipping my pants. I lifted my bottom and raised my legs to allow easier access and felt an almost instantaneous rush of cool air against my body as my jeans were removed.
Then my pants were replaced by his hands, sliding up my legs to trace the outline of the thong. First with his fingers, then with his tongue. I moaned from somewhere deep inside myself, causing a self-satisfied grin to flit across his face.
“Too many clothes,” I sighed.
I reached up and grabbed either side of his already unbuttoned shirt, pulling the fabric up and off of his body, tugging it down his arms. He shrugged out of it. I heard the distinct sound of clothing hitting carpet, then a belt following suit.
My eyes closed as I waited for him to get rid of his pants. I wasn’t big on unzipping things over man parts - especially ones as hard as his currently was - since there was just too much potential for disaster. It had a
lways been a quirk of mine and he knew it well.
While he took care of things on his end, I did the same on mine. But I wanted him to see, so I cleared my throat as I thrust my hand into the waistband of my underwear.
“Jesus, Gracie,” he growled as he realized what I was doing.
Still watching me intently as I pleasured myself in his absence, he reached behind himself and opened the nightstand drawer. I watched just as intently as he removed something vaguely familiar and set it on top.
“Are those mine?” I asked innocently.
He shrugged, though he couldn’t contain his amusement as he opened the box and helped himself to one. “You stole my shirt. I took your condoms. I figured it was a fair trade.”
“What if I needed them and they weren’t there?” I gasped, feigning anger.
“You didn’t. In fact, you never even noticed they were gone.”
“I should file a police report, mister.”
“If you do, mine’s coming right behind it.”
“I guess Doug was right about your moral compass.”
His eyebrow raised, even as he prepared himself for our encounter with the ill-gotten goods.
“Petty theft. Friends with a felon. Showing up in your cop car to intimidate an asshole.”
“You have a problem with that?”
“On the contrary. I find it extremely hot.”
He snorted. “There’s only one thing in this house that’s extremely hot. I’m not it.”
His eyes shifted to my midsection, where my hand still lingered between my skin and the satin of my panties. The distance between us evaporated, and his right hand grabbed my wrist, pulling my hand away from between my legs. He brought it to his lips as he parted them, allowing his tongue to curl around my fingers, savoring my taste upon them. When done, his mouth met mine with an intensity I’d never felt before, from anyone, anywhere.
Everything was different, yet the same, as we transitioned into being lovers.
He felt it, too, obviously.
For my recent words were not used against me, but rather were fashioned into a scripture of sorts as he took great care in worshipping what was now his.
Changed Page 28
