Inked Nights

by Carrie Ann Ryan

  He’d go sit with his mom and just listen. She more than likely wouldn’t have anything to say to him, but then again, she rarely did. But he’d be there for her as he always was. He hated that she was constantly in pain about things that were out of both his and her control, but he’d try to help her now.

  He hadn’t been able to protect his sister when it mattered most. He hadn’t been enough for his father when times had gotten too rough and leaving had seemed the easier choice. So Derek would be damned if he gave up on his mother when she was at her worst.

  And even as he slid into his car and headed down the familiar roads to his mother’s house, a different one than the one he’d grown up in since that had been too much for everyone, Olivia’s face flashed through his mind.

  Tomorrow was supposed to be their night. That was when he was going to take a risk. And yet it seemed so much harder when his past kept coming back and hitting him hard in the face with each phone call from his mother.

  Life was never easy, but living after the dead had moved on and you hadn’t was harder than he’d ever thought possible.

  Chapter Seven

  A week had passed, and Olivia couldn’t catch her breath. Why had she waited until the hotel to see him again? She should have been the adult and gone over to Austin and Sierra’s and asked for Derek’s number. It would have been better for everyone if she’d been able to tell Derek what she needed to without being in a place with so many shared memories between them. Now, she’d either have to make a public scene in the hotel bar or risk going up to the room that he no doubt had already arranged. It would likely be a different room than all the others before, but it would still feel like theirs. It didn’t matter if the bed had been updated, if the view from the window was different, or if they’d found themselves on each floor over the years. It would still be their room. And once the door closed behind her, she’d have to tell him who she was so he’d know the truth.

  A small part of her hoped that he’d understand. That he’d know that she hadn’t kept it from him for years, only the past month as she pieced herself together once she figured out who he was. A small part of her held the dreams where he would say he understood and still kiss her. Still want her. That he’d forgive her for what had happened all those years ago and they would be able to be again.

  But that piece was a liar. She knew that. Because no matter how nice the hotel was, no matter the leather seats and ornate molding, she didn’t fit here. Neither did he. They had been playing a part all these years, a role that had been a lie—even if she hadn’t understood it at the time. Because their rules had meant nothing in the end. She’d still ended up falling, still ended up making connections. And she had no idea what to do about it. Or rather, she knew what she should do even if it would hurt her more than she thought possible.

  She didn’t want to lose him.

  Yet, she’d never really had him.

  She’d made the choice to show up at the hotel, made a decision to dress like she normally did for their encounters, so she could have some form of armor for what she needed to tell him. And yet, some part of her knew that if Derek kissed her first, she might go weak and let him love her one last time before she lost it all.

  He deserved far more than that, but she knew tonight would be their last time.

  She was going to go to hell paved with those good intentions, and once again, she had to fight for breath.

  She wore a deep purple dress that hugged her torso, tucked in around her waist and flared out at her thighs. It had layers and swaths to hug her curves while being flowy at the same time. She loved this dress but knew she might not wear it again if Derek were to push her out of his life forever.

  Once she told him who she was now that she truly knew, there would be no happily ever after for her. There would be no talking it over and trying to remember the good times.

  There would be no more D and O.

  She held back a smile, thinking of the little jokes they’d made at the fact that he was D and she was O. It might have been immature, but they’d both laughed, both smiled, then had both fallen back into bed together.

  They’d done that often.

  “Is this seat taken?”

  She closed her eyes at the sound of his deep voice. She didn’t turn, wasn’t sure she could face him, but then she reminded herself that tonight wasn’t about her. It was about Derek and what she needed to tell him.

  So she sucked in a deep breath, ignored the tightening in her belly, and turned on her stool to face him. She lifted her chin, gesturing for him to sit down. She wasn’t sure she could formulate the words just then. She would, though. The martini near her elbow remained untouched, and as he took the seat next to her, she licked her lips.

  His gaze went to the action, and she could have cursed herself for doing that. She couldn’t lead him on, but neither could she stop her physical responses when it came to being in Derek’s presence.

  “That’s a new dress. I like it.”

  He must have looked at her as he walked up to the bar because his eyes were only on hers now. She loved the way his eyes locked on hers, the way she could tell so much about him just from the way he looked at her. She knew those eyes, knew them as the man he was, and now that she focused, she could see the fragments of memories from when he was the boy who had gotten annoyed when she followed him around because she’d fallen in love with her best friend’s older brother. Of course, she hadn’t been old enough to actually love him beyond a childhood crush.

  No, those feelings came later.

  She swallowed hard. She couldn’t love him. Not now, not later. She didn’t know him, not enough for those feelings to make sense. At least that’s what she kept reminding herself.

  “Olivia. Are you okay?”

  She pulled herself out of her thoughts and tried to make it look as if she weren’t going in a thousand different directions inside herself.

  “It’s not a new dress.”

  He frowned. “Oh. I guess I don’t know all of your dresses. I’ve seen a few.” He paused. “Touched a few, but I guess I don’t know them all.”

  She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath through her nose. “Sorry. I’m being weird.”

  “No, you aren’t. I called you Olivia. I didn’t even bother with O or trying to do what we normally do and act as if we don’t know each other. It’s different. And it should be. This isn’t like the last time or any of the other times before that. And maybe that’s okay. Hell, after all this time, it feels new because it’s already different. And, yeah, I don’t know every dress you’ve ever owned, and you don’t know everything about me either, but we can see if we want to try.”

  Olivia looked down and played with the rim of her martini glass, not sure what she was going to say because her heart was in her throat at that moment. He wanted more? Or at least wanted to see if they had more? Though he’d alluded to something like that before when he was in her home, she hadn’t really put any weight to it. And since she felt as if she were about to black out whenever he was near her, she didn’t really remember anything he’d said.

  “We should talk,” she said softly, trying to make herself sound as if she weren’t panicking inside. From the way he looked at her, she wasn’t sure she’d succeeded.

  He tilted his head, studied her, then reached out to brush her hair back from her shoulders. She hadn’t bothered with the pins today since it would have been a temptation for her that she had wanted to try to resist. She’d thought about it once she looked in the mirror and imagined his hands in her hair like he’d done so many times over the years. So she’d left it down, leaving the temptation behind. Only when he moved her hair, his fingertips brushed the skin of her shoulder over the straps of her dress, and she sucked in a breath. His eyes darkened, and she knew he felt it, too—that need, that yearning.

  And she hated herself just a little bit for it because she was going to change everything.

  She had to.

  “We should.
Do you want to talk down here? Or up in the room?”

  Anywhere but the room.

  She didn’t say that, of course, since the only answer was the room, but it didn’t make her words come out any easier.

  “I don’t really want to talk down here,” she answered finally and slid off the stool.

  “Do you want to finish your drink?” he asked, then raised a brow. “Or maybe start it?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t think I can drink anything right now, and I only got it so I wasn’t sitting at the bar without holding something. You know?”

  “I do. Though I wish I’d gotten here earlier so you weren’t here alone in that case.”

  She shrugged and picked up her bag. “I’m always early to everything. I can’t help it.”

  “Good to know. See? We’re already learning new things.”

  Oh, if he only knew.

  He took her hand, and she did her best not to pull away, not because she didn’t want his touch, but because she wanted it too much. And just like the previous times he’d led her to the elevator, she wondered what people thought as they looked at the two of them. Did they think they were lovers? A couple? Or were they having an illicit affair?

  As none of those were the truth, she couldn’t help but wonder what those who had noticed them over time would think when Olivia and Derek didn’t show up again.

  Would they worry?

  Would they think it was over?

  Or would their absence go unnoticed, a bare blip of a memory that didn’t mean anything to the casual observer?

  She didn’t want to be a memory long faded, but as she only had the memories of what had once been swirling in her mind, she wasn’t sure she could be anything else and remain sane.

  “Why do you look so scared?” Derek asked as he pressed the button for the seventh floor on the elevator.

  Lucky number seven? Or to the seventh layer of hell in Dante’s Inferno?

  “I’m fine.”

  “You think I don’t know you, but I do know enough to know that’s a lie. Let’s get into the room so you can finally tell me what’s got you so on edge. Hmm?”

  She didn’t answer, but as they walked to the room once they left the elevator, her silence was answer enough. He pressed his keycard to the sensor and opened the door, gesturing for her to go in first. She hated that her chest hurt, that her lungs felt as if they were too large for her ribcage.

  She had to do this quickly, like ripping off a Band-Aid, and then she’d be fine.

  And if she kept telling herself that, maybe she’d actually believe it.

  The door closed behind them, and she rolled her shoulders back. Time to be the woman she’d fought so hard to be and tell him the truth. So she turned on her heel to face him…and found his lips on hers.

  Damn this man and his mouth.

  Damn him.

  Her lips parted without her knowing, and he deepened the kiss, his hands going in her hair and over her face, pulling her in closer. He tasted of mint and a little bit of coffee, and she wanted to drown in his essence forever. But even as she thought that, even as he groaned, she knew she needed to pull away.

  And unlike the last time, she did.

  “Stop, Derek. I need to talk to you.”

  He panted just as she did, but took a step back. The heat of him still touched her, but his body didn’t, and for that she was grateful.

  Kissing him again would be wrong. Falling for him would be even worse.

  She’d already done both, but she’d be damned if she let herself fall into bed with him again. She couldn’t hold back this secret from him and let him touch her, let him take her. She’d never forgive herself.

  “What’s wrong, Olivia? What’s so bad that you look as if you want to cry and shake at the same time? I know I’ve been pushing you, and for that, I’m sorry. If you want to go back to what we had before, we can. We can do our thing once a month and keep each other at just first names and never talk again outside of that. But you need to know I want more. I need more. But I’ll settle for what we had if that’s all you have to give. However, if you can give me more? I’ll take it. I want to know you. I want to see you outside these walls. I want to go on actual dates with you and find out who we can be together when we’re not playing by the rules we set when we didn’t know any better. And I know I’m saying all the things I want, but hell, we’ve done so good for so long by not saying anything too deep, not letting each other get too close to who we are, that maybe it’s time we break that mold. Maybe it’s time we actually say what we want, rather than what we think we need.”

  She was breaking inside, large chasms ripping through her body as if a quake set off a chain reaction of pain and despair. Yet she could be strong for him, strong now when she hadn’t been before.

  He wanted more. She’d known that, of course, but hearing him say the words, seeing the plea in his eyes, she couldn’t catch her breath.

  She wanted all of that, too. Wanted that and more, but she couldn’t even let herself think it until she told him what she’d been holding back.

  “My name’s Olivia,” she blurted.

  He frowned, clearly caught off guard by her saying something he already knew.

  “Yes, you told me that last time. What’s wrong?”

  “My name’s Olivia Madison. Does that name sound familiar?”

  He froze, his face going blank.

  He remembered.

  But she needed to tell him everything, just in case. Yes, it would be more for her at this point, but it could be for him, too.

  “I was three years old when I found my best friend. She was the same age as me, and her big brother was only a year or two older than us. She was everything to me. Her light blond hair was the opposite of mine, her pale skin so much lighter than mine, and I loved that we were so different on the outside, yet so much the same on the inside. I didn’t know what all of that meant when I was a little girl, but I know now. She was my everything, my best friend for the next three years of my life.”

  He didn’t say anything, but he clenched his jaw as well as his fists.

  He knew.

  He remembered.

  But she wasn’t done yet.

  “Stacey and I used to play out in the big field behind our homes. We were next-door neighbors, but our yards weren’t all that big and didn’t have enough room for us to play. So we used the field with all the grass and hills and flowers. Our parents let us, knowing we’d be safe because they could see us from the top-floor windows of our houses as long as they looked out. We should have been safe.”

  Derek kept his silence, and she wanted to throw up, but she kept going. If she stopped now, she’d hate herself.

  “One day, we were chasing butterflies. We were six, and that’s how we worked; we needed them for our princess court. You see, the butterflies would be our ladies in waiting, and we would be dual princesses in our kingdom. Stacey was the one with the imagination; I was the one who helped add the little details like butterflies to make sure it all made sense.”

  Even then, she’d been her best friend’s editor in their own little world.

  But even then, she hadn’t been enough.

  Olivia took a deep breath and continued. “That day, though, we got too close to the road. I don’t know how, but we ended up right on the curve. I called out to Stacey, telling her to be careful, but she turned at the wrong time at the sound of my voice. She didn’t see the curb.”

  She let out a shuddering breath, and her eyes stung, but she didn’t let any tears fall. Stacey might have deserved them, but Olivia didn’t.

  “She took one too many steps right at the worst moment. No one saw the car coming. The driver didn’t see her.”

  “I remember,” he growled out. “You don’t have to go into any more details. I remember my fucking sister, Olivia. Question is, how long have you known? How long did you know I was that boy? How long have you lied to me, keeping this from me?”

  This time, t
he tears fell. “I only knew when you said your name and I put it all together. I promise you. You and your family moved away right after everything happened, and I haven’t seen you since I was six. I never thought I would see you again. I never thought that you, D, could possibly be the Derek I knew as a little girl and had a crush on.”

  She hadn’t meant to say that last part, but she was baring the rest of herself so she might as well keep going.

  “I don’t know if I can believe you.”

  That hurt, but then again, she didn’t blame him. She’d already broken more than once in her life, and now it was her turn to break him so he could do the same to her once more.

  “I’m so sorry, Derek. I didn’t mean to call out right at that moment and distract her. I didn’t mean for any of that to happen. I will never forgive myself for that day, and I will never forgive myself for making you think I ever wanted to hurt you. I didn’t know who you were until that moment last month when I pulled away, but I don’t know how I can get you to believe me. I’ve tried to find the courage and the words to tell you since then. I don’t know what else to say except that I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry that we lost Stacey. I’m sorry that I’m that girl from all those years ago who brings with her those bad memories, and that you’re that same boy. And I’m sorry that I fell for you when I shouldn’t have. I broke the rules. I changed everything. And I’m just so damn sorry.”

  She’d torn herself open, laid herself bare in every way she could, and now there was nothing else for her.

  She just prayed that she’d be enough, that the small part of her that had once held hope would shine.

  But, of course, it didn’t.

  It wouldn’t.

  Derek gave her one last look, opened his mouth to say something, then stopped. When he turned on his heel and walked out of the hotel room, she knew it would be for the last time. This would be their last month.

  He was gone.

  And she knew that no matter what some small part of her had thought and hoped, she deserved nothing less.

  Only when the door slammed closed did she fall to her knees, ignoring the way her dress rode up and wrinkled, to let her tears fall freely.