by Nicole Helm
Habits that made Leah want to crawl out of her skin. Made her want to scream. Worst of all, made her want to cry. Why couldn’t they look past all the health issues and see her?
Mom hadn’t asked about her job, hadn’t complimented her on her place. No, just Jacob, Jacob, Jacob. And Leah didn’t know how to make it different.
But you’re not going to give up. You’re going to keep trying. Because you want a family and you want them to see you. She stared at herself in the mirror for a long time, long after the mirror completely cleared of fog. Then she gave herself a little nod and got dressed and stepped back out into her bedroom.
When she did, Jacob was sitting up in bed, pulling the sweater over his head, expressly as she’d asked him not to last night. He had a T-shirt on underneath, but it rode up as he pulled the sweater off. She could see the abs she’d idiotically mentioned last night. Guh.
“It’s friggin’ hot in here,” he muttered, tossing the sweater toward his duffel bag. On the floor of her room, all unassuming and normal.
“I...I told you not to do that,” Leah protested, wishing the words back in her mouth the minute they escaped. Because the reasoning she’d given him last night was super embarrassing.
Abs.
He had them, but a normal person didn’t go around pointing them out. Especially to the friend you were trying to ignore your attraction to for the very sake of your friendship.
“You really can’t trust yourself to keep your hands off me?” he grumbled, scrubbing hands over his face.
She clamped her mouth shut because, well, sometimes she wondered. There had been a time she hadn’t denied herself anything she wanted, and she may have grown up and out of that, but it had taken a life-threatening relapse. Even with that in her history, there were times...times she wished she could go back to being that girl who did whatever she wanted.
Nope, not these times. “It’s just weird.”
“Because you want to jump me?”
“I most certainly did not say that.” Just thought it.
He stopped stretching and fixed her with a considering look. “You know, it’s not like I’ve never thought about it.”
“What? Thought about what? No. Don’t answer that. Just stop talking. You woke up...delirious or something.”
“I’m just saying it’s not like you’re unattractive. So, yeah, I’m not immune, either. It isn’t all one-sided.”
“Why? Why are you saying that? I like my one-sidedness. Not that...there’s...” Seriously. This was an alternate reality. Maybe that shot of vodka was still working.
“Is it a crime?”
“What?”
“To be attracted to one another?”
“Crime? No. Stupidest thing on the face of the planet? Yes.”
“That seems harsh.”
“Why are you talking?”
He shrugged. “I need coffee. I slept for shit. In this hot room on a bed next to someone that, yes, on occasion I have thought of naked. Hearing Grace tell me I’m going to hurt you over and over again in my head and what the hell am I pretending so hard for?”
Leah blinked at him, her face likely so red she could match that idiotic dress in her closet. And she thought about that red dress, and the times she’d worn it, and the past five years, and it all centered in her gut as anger. Anger at what, she didn’t know, but she clenched her fists and the embarrassment faded away.
“You know what, Jacob? I call bullshit.”
“What?”
“That’s all...you. I’m here and I’m convenient and you’ve been on your little women break. You’re lonely and I think you’ve built this lovely little fantasy where you’ve given a crap about me in a romantic way and it’s all bullshit.”
His forehead wrinkled as his eyebrows drew together. “You’re not serious.”
She angled her chin because she was. So serious, and it hurt, but she knew she had to be right because for five years, five years of her pathetic unspoken lust for him, he had not given her any indication he felt remotely the same. So, this was exactly it. Lonely and bored and she was here.
“I’m attracted to you. Sorry, you can’t excuse that away.”
“I don’t believe you.”
He stood, scowl etched so deep, lines bracketed his mouth. When he took a step toward her, her whole stomach flopped to her toes. She wasn’t sure what it was jittering through her. Fear? Frustration? Nerves?
Arousal?
Oh, no, not the last one.
“I have been attracted to you always,” he said through gritted teeth, and he took another step toward her, and because she had nowhere to go, except to hide in the bathroom, she stood there.
Because she was strong. She was in control of this. And she was right. “As I said before, bullshit.”
“Five and a half years ago, you came into my falling-apart office with this smile, like you were about to conquer the fucking world, and I wanted you.” Another step. “You had your résumé in this ridiculously frayed leather folder thing, and your hair was in a braid that was already falling apart, but you waltzed in like the job was yours.”
Okay, she was starting to regret not running to the bathroom. Especially as he took two more steps. Steps so that they were now only an inch or two away from toe to toe, him glowering down at her like...like...
She didn’t know. Some hot-guy glower that was making her brain go all squishy.
“And it was like a zap of electricity. But MC is the most important thing in my life aside from my family. You were the only candidate with everything I needed. So, wanting you? It couldn’t matter. And I haven’t let it matter in all this time.”
He was really close now. Like, you know, possibly kissing close. Like how he got when he kissed her cheek, but this was not that. Not because they weren’t practicing, but because that was not a cheek-kiss look.
And as much as a part of her downright longed to know what a not-cheek kiss, a real not-cheek kiss, might feel like, how that look translated into a kiss would feel, she knew it would flatten her, and she didn’t have time to be flattened right now. Not with her family sleeping under the same roof.
“Why are you saying all this?” she demanded, not as fearless and steady as she’d hoped.
“Because I need some damn coffee,” he muttered, pushing past her. “And your bed is shit.” He stepped into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him.
Leah let out an unsteady breath and leaned against the now-closed door. Oh, God, what was that?
* * *
WHAT THE HELL was that? He gripped the sink and tried to figure out what kind of stroke he’d just had.
But she’d been standing there with curly wet hair looking, and he wanted her to, and damn if he wasn’t a little cracked.
It wasn’t as if it wasn’t true. It was all painfully the truth, just probably a truth he should have kept to himself.
He scratched fingers through his hair, then turned to the shower and flicked the nozzle to Hot. Well, it was too late to keep it to himself, and so what? So he’d told her. Grace had told him Leah had a thing for him, so Leah could damn well deal with it, too.
He stepped into the hot spray of the shower and tried to fully wake up. Anything to get his brain to engage. Because apparently it was a bike without a chain...or some other less lame metaphor.
He tried to scrub some sense into his body, all the while ignoring the frustrating morning erection that was less biology and more like having to smell Leah all freaking night. Listen to her breathe. All but see her chest rise and fall.
Shitty shit shit. If he wasn’t afraid Leah would think something kinky was going on he would have beat the wall in frustration.
Instead, he leaned his forehead to the tile and took a deep breath of hot, steamy air. So he’d said some
uncomfortable truths. So what? It wasn’t as if keeping them secret made them any less true.
Yup. Shit.
He wrenched the water off, then stared at the foggy bathroom around him. He hadn’t brought in any clothes. Luckily Leah’s towels sat on a rack, sloppily folded.
He grabbed one and dried himself off and tried to figure out what to do. There was a temptation to go back into the room with only a towel wrapped around his waist. After all, she very well could have gone. Hopefully to make coffee.
But something about that felt different from innocently taking off his shirt. Stomping around in nothing but a towel struck him as a dick move...literally and figuratively.
So he opened the door a tiny crack. “Um, can you throw my bag in here?”
She didn’t say anything, but after a few seconds the bag was shoved in his direction.
He got dressed, irritation and frustration boiling through his bloodstream. Because he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to blueprint this, how to troubleshoot this problem into submission.
And maybe Leah was a teeny tiny bit right that he tended to, on occasion, do that with relationships, too.
She, however, was not going to be easy to troubleshoot. Scratch that. Impossible.
So, he’d just...pretend. That was what they were doing anyway and apparently they were both experts. They were friends. Buddies. Pretending to be lovers, but not a sexual thought between them.
Yes. That was it. The answer. The key to get them to next week, when her parents would be gone and life would go back to normal. Work and friendship and no all-encompassing, reality-warping lust.
Determined, he stepped into her room ready to pretend his ass off, but before he could do anything, Leah fixed him with that determined glare.
“We’re just going to pretend this morning didn’t happen. For the sake of MC and...everything.”
“Yeah, sure.” Why her desire to do just what he’d decided made him itchy, he had no idea.
She had hands dug in her pockets and her hair was pulled back now. She looked like the Leah he always saw, and yet they were in her bedroom, and they’d shared a bed last night, and damn it, he wanted to kiss her. So...
“Would it really be so awful?” Really that awful?
She glanced at him warily, a kind of rawness in her expression that made his gut twist. “No. It wouldn’t be. But it wouldn’t end well, and that would be awful.”
“How do you know?” He kind of liked half that answer, but the other half itched, too.
She rubbed a hand over her chest, something she always seemed to do when she was sad. “Just trust that I am not the girl you’re going to maneuver into marriage and babies, and that’s what you want.”
Okay, so, yes, that was the plan, and in order to complete that step in the life plan he needed to be married by thirty, which gave him only a little over a year. Because he wanted a year or two of being married without kids, but he didn’t want to be too old when he had them. The—
Christ. Why was he thinking about this?
“Maybe you shouldn’t be staying here and—”
“I’m seeing this through regardless. Because, regardless, we’re still friends.” That was the bottom line, and it always would be. He didn’t back out on friends. He didn’t let people down.
He took her by the shoulders because he needed her to look at him and see the truth. “Sorry if it’s weird sometimes, but it is what it is. And regardless of weird, at the end of the day, I want you to remain my friend.”
She swallowed. “O...okay. I mean, I want that, too. To be your friend.”
“Good.” Here was the part where he, as her friend, should give her a bit of a squeeze and then release her shoulders. Step back and away. Stop examining the curve of her bottom lip. Yes. Stop that.
But he didn’t.
She turned her head away, eyes squeezed shut. “Don’t kiss me.”
“Okay.” It would be stupid to argue that he hadn’t been about to do just that.
She opened her eyes when he didn’t release her shoulder. “Don’t look like you’re thinking about kissing me, either.” She gave him a little shove and he released her, but he couldn’t help grinning.
“That I can’t do. I am thinking about kissing you.”
“Jacob—”
There was that sad look and chest rubbing to match the exasperated exhalation of his name, which made him really, really want to kiss her. Hold her. Tell her there was nothing to be sad about. He wouldn’t make her sad.
Unless he did without trying or meaning to. Ouch. That was a crap thought. But when her eyes met his, she didn’t look so much sad. Especially when her gaze dropped to his mouth.
“Hey, if I can’t think about it, you can’t think about it.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You’re a hell of a lot better at denial than I am, Leah.” Which gave him a boost. Because it was denial, and that at least meant he wasn’t crazy. “I can’t promise to stop thinking about it, but I won’t actually do it.” And then he grinned again because he knew it would piss her off just as much as his next words. “Until you ask me to.”
“I will not be doing that.”
“Suit yourself.” He sauntered over to the bedroom door. Strangely enough, he left the bedroom light and happy and not at all convinced she wouldn’t eventually ask just that.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“GOODNESS. WHAT A giant house! Jacob did this all on his own?”
“No, Mom, not on his own. He had help.” Like mine, Leah wanted to scream, but instead she swallowed it down and worked on her best smile as she approached MC with her family. And Jacob. Wonderful Jacob. Strong, perfect Jacob.
“Oh, he’s all kinds of amazing.” Mom smiled broadly at Jacob walking behind them. Leah wanted to roll her eyes. All of this praise and complimenting aimed Jacob’s way was bordering on the ridiculous.
And the fact her own mother couldn’t see her that way? It...hurt. Yes, it did.
“Don’t be so modest, sweetheart.” Jacob’s arm came around her waist and she knew she should put her arm around his and walk into the house all lovey-dovey and pretendy, but she didn’t want to.
She wanted to get the hell away from him. Because all that stuff this morning? It was too damn tempting for any kind of comfort. And all this stuff with Mom right now made her want to shove him like a little kid desperate for attention.
“Leah did all the wiring. There wasn’t anything we could salvage. It’s kind of amazing, really. Everything I do is so aesthetic. I can look at it and say ‘Hmm, this doesn’t look right,’ and as long as I’m within code, I can do whatever I want. Leah has to get every little wire in just the right place without the luxury of tearing everything down.”
“She certainly inherited her father’s skill with all that mechanical stuff.”
“Right, because nothing I’ve ever done has been of my own doing. It’s all been spurred on by someone with a penis,” Leah muttered under her breath. Mom wouldn’t hear it, but with Jacob hip to hip with her, he no doubt would.
He squeezed a little harder around her waist and she knew it was an admonition, but she didn’t care. She was getting beat down by Mom being so quintessentially Mom. And it made her sad and mad and the morning with Jacob had done the same and basically...basically all her lies and planning and determination were crumbling around her.
And it made this whole pretending thing pointless, because this new suffocation from Mom wasn’t about needing a man to take care of her, but it felt the same. Effusive praise of everyone but her. Well, so long as they were male.
It prompted those age-old feelings. Flip the bird. Do what you want. Run away.
It was all so useless she wanted to cry. Wanted to yell, “I am here! I am capable! I am worthy!”
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But she didn’t. Maybe because as here and capable as she was, worthy was something she had her doubts about.
It was easy to forget ten years later, so she had to keep reminding herself what she’d caused. Parents’ separation. Debt. Pain. Worry. So being worthy of Mom’s praise, of Mom seeing her for who she was? Yeah, not so much.
Which did not make her any less sad, but it did stop her from letting any mad leak out. It stopped her from yelling it was all a lie. Because Mom was so happy. Downright giddy over Jacob, and Leah wasn’t going to take that away from her.
She’d just deal. And maybe someday she’d have the guts to tell her mom the truth, or maybe someday she’d find a guy as decent as Jacob.
She shot him a sideways glance and he winked, his arm moving from her waist, hand traveling up her back until it reached her shoulder, and then he squeezed.
That did nothing to her. Not a zap, not a pinch of heat, nothing.
She used to be so much better at lying to herself.
They entered MC through the front, which was pretty impressive. Considering she could remember when the entryway had moldy drywall and peeling ceilings.
Now it was all gleaming wood and curved candelabra light fixtures Kelly had found and Leah had rewired.
“This is really amazing. Really. And you’re so young. What an accomplishment.”
“I was exceptionally lucky. I couldn’t have done it without the people Kyle and I have found to join us. Really, it’s such a team effort.”
They stepped into the parlor, big and open, a mix of modern and Victorian decor. Leah didn’t often think about how much they’d done. How she’d painstakingly removed the old corroded setup and replaced it. How Jacob and his team of laborers had turned this from musty, falling-apart decay to a livable, beautiful piece of architecture, and then Kelly had swept in and designed it into this. And with the small, fat Christmas tree winking with white lights and wooden ornaments, it felt as much like home as a showpiece for MC Restorations.
