Say You Still Love Me: A Novel

by K. A. Tucker

  “Yeah, they did,” I admit reluctantly. Kyle did say that he doesn’t hold a grudge against my father, that the money changed his life for the better. Knowing that does temper my anger a touch. Just a touch, because there would have been better ways to help a boy in need than to threaten him.

  I sigh. “I can’t just move on. Not without knowing whether we could work.”

  Mom seems to mull that over. “You two weren’t ready for the kind of feelings you’d fallen into back then, but maybe you are now.”

  I frown. “You’re confusing me. Are you suggesting that Kyle and I should be together?” Because everything she’s said up until now has sounded like the exact opposite.

  “It is confusing, isn’t it? Life? To be so sure of something in your head but unable to ignore what’s in your heart.” Her eyes narrow on her fork tines in thought. “I think that if you and this boy . . . this man, now . . . really want this to work despite the challenges, then you’ll find a way.” She offers my hand a reassuring pat. “You are your father’s daughter, after all. And when he married me, I didn’t have two pennies to rub together.”

  “But your looks and your charm were priceless.”

  Her soft, musical laughter soothes me. “If I remember correctly, this boy was rather cute, despite the funny hair. How did he turn out?”

  “He turned out just fine.” I give her a knowing look.

  “A security guard, you said?” She smiles secretively through a sip of wine. “Do they use handcuffs?”

  I cringe. “Mom!”

  “Seventeen Cherry Lane. This is it.” The cab driver squints as he peers over his steering wheel to take in the condominium, the six o’clock evening sun bouncing off the windows. It isn’t one of the buildings we developed, but it’s nice, all the same.

  Seventeen cherries.

  I hand the driver a wad of cash for the fare plus a healthy tip for putting up with the stops we made on the way here. “Just wait here a minute, in case they’re not home, okay?”

  “You got it.”

  I slide out of the backseat of the taxi and make my way through the glass doors. The intercom is to the left. I promptly punch in 717.

  And wait.

  Disappointment begins to swell as it rings three . . . four . . . five times, until a male voice answers on the sixth ring. “Yeah?”

  I can’t tell if it’s Kyle or Jeremy. “Hey . . . It’s Piper.”

  There’s a long stretch of silence.

  And then a buzz and a click sound, as the interior door unlocks.

  I give the taxi the thumbs-up and then head in.

  The interior is attractive—trendier than some of the family-friendly ones in the area. There is a small cubby to my right where a security guard would sit, but it’s empty. I’m not surprised. We’re in the suburbs, a generally safe and quiet area. Most condo boards have opted for security camera systems and part-time staff to save on budget.

  I clutch my purse to my side as I ride the elevator up to the seventh floor, my stomach a fluttering mess of nerves. I’m more nervous for this than I have been for any board meeting or investor presentation I’ve lived through. Maybe it’s because this is personal; the end result means everything to me.

  When I round the bend in the hall, Kyle is waiting for me, leaning against the door frame, barefoot and wearing track pants and a plain white T-shirt that clings to his torso without being too tight. His hair is damp and pushed back, reminding me of afternoons in the lake, when he’d slide a hand through it to keep it from falling onto his forehead.

  He watches me approach, his eyes drifting over my outfit—a casual navy-blue-and-white striped cotton jersey dress that hugs my curves and makes me think of warm summer days at Martha’s Vineyard.

  “You found me,” he murmurs with a crooked smile.

  “Jeremy was right. It’s easy to remember.” I stop just in front of him and inhale the scent of soap and cologne that wafts around him. “You smell good.”

  “I was just getting out of the shower when you buzzed.”

  Thoughts of Kyle answering my call in nothing but a towel hit me, and heat begins crawling along my skin. “It’s okay that I’ve surprised you like this?”

  “Yes.” Not a hint of a waver in his voice.

  An electric charge is building between us. His deep inhale tells me he feels it, too.

  “Come in,” he murmurs, gesturing with an inviting hand. He closes the door softly behind us.

  It’s a modestly sized but nice place—with an all-white galley kitchen and floor-to-ceiling windows off the living room, letting in plenty of light. Sliding frosted glass doors on either side lead to two bedrooms, where neither bed is made.

  “Where’s your brother?”

  “Out with some new friends.”

  “Sounds like he’s settling in well.”

  “He does well anywhere. He’s a social guy.”

  “You were a social guy.”

  “Why are you here, Piper?” Kyle’s gaze drifts to my mouth.

  He knows exactly why I’m here.

  Swallowing my anticipation, I reach into my purse. “I just happened to be out shopping earlier and look what I found.” I hold up a fistful of cherry and razz apple flavored Fun Dips—ten packs in total, which took visits to five different convenience stores before I found them.

  Kyle grins. “I haven’t had one of those since Wawa.”

  “Me neither. So I was thinking it was time for a little game of two truths and a lie.”

  “Fine.” His eyes settle on mine, suddenly serious. “You go first.”

  Okay. I take a deep breath. “I didn’t really need a gel pen on Saturday night.”

  He chuckles and I feel the sound deep in my chest.

  “I haven’t stopped thinking about you since you came to Lennox.” I hazard a reach up, to skate my fingers over his cheek. “And I will jump off any cliff you ask me to, no matter how frightened I am, as long as it means you’re waiting for me at the bottom.” I let my hand fall to his shoulder and my thumb drag along his bare collarbone, reveling in the heat of his skin. “What’s my lie, Kyle?”

  He swallows hard. “That’s a trick question.”

  Because they’re all truths.

  “You always were too good for this game.”

  “My turn.” He steps forward, guiding me backward until my back hits the door. “I knew you didn’t really come back for a pen.” His hands find my hips. “I’ve measured every girl I’ve dated since Wawa against you and they’ve all failed miserably.” His golden eyes lock on my mouth. “And I’m an idiot for being too scared to do this.” My head hits the door as his lips crash into mine, but I don’t feel the throb, meeting his mouth with my own fervor, as thirteen years of pent-up pain, love, and lust releases between us. Our hands roam urgently—tugging at clothing, learning new curves, reveling in each other’s familiar heat—as if we have only minutes to accomplish all that we want to do.

  He breaks free long enough to reach back and yank his T-shirt over his head, tossing it to the hardwood floor, and then his lips are on me again—on my mouth, my throat, my collarbone, his warm breath trailing along my skin.

  My fingernails drag over his shoulders and my eyes shut, as I revel in the feel of both new and old.

  I barely notice Kyle pushing the straps of my dress off my shoulders, and then the material is pooling at my ankles and I’m stepping out of it. He wastes no time peeling off the rest and, within minutes of stepping into this condo, I’m still at the front door but I’m naked. His skin is hot against mine as he pulls me into his arms, our bodies smashed together.

  I don’t hesitate, sliding my fingers beneath the elastic band of his track pants and easing them down over his hips, momentarily surprised by the lack of boxers beneath, but quickly distracted when his pants hit the floor.

  “I never thought we’d be doing this again.” He grabs the back of my thighs and hoists me up into his arms, guiding my legs around his hips. The door is cool against my
bare back as he presses me into it once again, his mouth dipping down to wrap around a pebbled nipple this time, sending shivers skittering to my core.

  “I don’t think we ever did this,” I manage to get out around a soft moan, his hard length pressing against me, my body aching to feel all of it. Everything back then seemed so new and tentative. I remember a lot of fumbling, a lot of nervousness; a lot of Kyle hesitating, not wanting to pressure or rush me.

  While this moment with Kyle is also uncharted territory, there’s nothing tentative about him letting me know what he wants.

  And I’m perfectly fine with giving it to him, except for the fact that he has a brother who may come home at any minute.

  “Your bedroom. Now,” I demand, my arms linked around his neck, my lips against his ear.

  His mouth is still on me as he carries me to the room on the right, groping blindly for the door handle to slide the door shut before falling into bed on top of me. “I’ve thought about doing this every morning you walked in through the front doors.”

  “Even while you were ignoring me?” I tease, my fingers curling through his damp hair, sending it into disarray as he grinds his hips against mine.

  “Especially then.” His teeth skate across my neck as his mouth edges downward, his arms braced on either side of me, the muscles in his broad shoulders straining beautifully as he lifts and holds himself over me, his eyes taking a long, leisurely look downward, over my naked body beneath him.

  I follow suit, reaching down to grip him, parting my legs in an inviting way.

  He inhales sharply. “If I wait any longer, I’m going to explode,” he whispers.

  “Don’t, then.”

  I marvel at this new body before me as he rushes to fish a condom from an unopened box in his nightstand, as he tears the packaging and rolls it on.

  And then he’s curling his fingers within mine and pressing my hands above my head to pin me down.

  I happily give up control, allowing him to fit himself between my thighs and push into me without hesitation.

  Exhilaration and an unexpected sense of peace surges through me.

  The front door creaks open around eight P.M.

  “We left our clothes out there,” I whisper into Kyle’s bare, sculpted chest, my body warm and relaxed and splayed on top of him. I could stay like this all night.

  “It’s fine.”

  “Your brother is looking at my underwear right now.”

  “Hope they’re clean.”

  “Shut up!” I smack his abdomen playfully and his muscles flex with his laugh. “Of course they are. I changed them before I came here.”

  “Someone sure had high hopes,” he murmurs.

  “Keep it up and you’ll be doing nothing but hoping for a long time,” I throw back, dragging a fingernail around his nipple and down, over the thin trail of hair past his belly button.

  He sucks in a breath as my hand grazes his sensitive flesh. “I might need a few days to recuperate as it is.”

  “You were a little bit eager the first time.”

  “And the second time.”

  “And the third.”

  He shifts our bodies, allowing him to roll onto his side to face me. He runs a fingertip along my jawline. “This is crazy, isn’t it? Us, like this, again?”

  I lean in to touch his nose with mine. “Crazy, but in the best way,” I whisper, my lips grazing his. “Are we going to do this?”

  His lip curls with a sexy smirk. “I think we just did this.”

  “That’s not what I mean.”

  Kyle’s throat bobs with his swallow. “Aren’t you worried about how it looks at work?”

  “Why? Are you embarrassed of being seen with me?”

  He chuckles, but when he pulls back to look into my eyes, his are filled with earnestness. “There’s a lot of outside factors that could make things difficult. We need a game plan.”

  Really there’s only one outside factor—a sixty-seven-year-old man in a three-piece suit.

  I hadn’t planned anything beyond showing up on Kyle’s doorstep to tell him how I feel and seeing what might come of it. But he’s right; we do need a game plan. One that keeps the workplace gossip mill at bay and my father blissfully unaware for as long as possible. “We should keep things quiet for now. Because if people find out, then my father finds out. And, I swear, Kyle, his opinion of you doesn’t matter to me—”

  “You’re right, we don’t want him knowing just yet,” Kyle agrees.

  I smooth a hand over his jaw, coated with dark stubble. “I hate it, but I think that’s smart. For now.”

  “Are you sure you’re going to be okay with people knowing that the future CEO of Calloway Group is dating the building’s security guard?” His voice drips with doubt.

  I press my lips against his in a slow, tantalizing kiss. “I’m okay with people knowing that Piper Calloway is . . .” My voice trails. Could I still be in love with Kyle? I never truly fell out of love with him. “. . . dating Kyle Miller.”

  “Kyle Stewart.”

  My face pinches. “I can’t call you Kyle Stewart. You’ll always be Miller to me.”

  His hand slides over my shoulder and down my arm, dragging the sheet off my body. “Call me whatever the hell you want to,” he murmurs, guiding me onto my back, his gaze taking in my naked body as he settles himself in between my thighs, his mouth leaving a trail of moisture as he begins shifting downward along my stomach.

  “I’m ordering pizza!” Jeremy calls out from the main room. “Do you and Piper want in?”

  “You hungry?” Kyle’s tongue teases my belly button.

  “Kind of,” I admit. The salad at lunch didn’t fill me up.

  “The usual?”

  I frown curiously. “What’s my usual?”

  “Hawaiian. That’s what you’d always go for at Wawa.”

  “You remember that?”

  He rests his chin on my pelvis and looks up at me. “I told you, I remember everything about you.”

  I smooth a hand over his hair, now dry and wild, while emotion rises in my chest. “How does Jeremy know it’s me, anyway? I could have been anyone,” I murmur. “That would have been awkward.”

  “ ’Cause Kyle hasn’t so much as blinked at another woman since we moved to Lennox!” Jeremy hollers.

  Kyle rolls his eyes.

  “Do you know he called me Sarah when he first saw me?” I call out.

  “My brother’s an idiot, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  “Order us a Hawaiian and get the fuck away from my bedroom door, you perv!” Kyle hollers back, glancing over as the shadowy figure strolls past the frosted glass, chuckling.

  “You’ve got twenty minutes. I’ll be on the balcony.” A moment later, I hear the door slide open and shut.

  Kyle groans and rests his head on my abdomen. “This place is too small.”

  I stroke his hair. “We can stay at my place. My bedroom is down a hall, away from the others.” In truth, I have my own wing that might be the size of this entire condo.

  “But then I’d have to deal with Christa.”

  “And her psycho cross-eyed cat.”

  “Why am I not surprised.”

  “But on the flipside, it’s only a fifteen-minute walk to work.”

  “Hmm . . . that’s tempting, seeing as I have to catch the bus at five from here.”

  “Eww.”

  “Right? So, you know you’re welcome to stay here tonight, but I’ll be gone early in the morning.”

  “It’s okay. I have to get home soon, anyway. I have this construction proposal to go through before tomorrow.” I should have been combing through it all afternoon, looking for issues to arm myself with in my power struggle against Tripp, not searching half of Lennox for Fun Dip powder packs and tangling in Kyle’s sheets.

  Kyle lifts his head to regard me for a long moment, a curious look in his eyes.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. I’m still in shock that you’re here,
with me.”

  “I know. Me, too.” And it still somehow feels like Kyle and me. We’ve changed, of course—the man looking up at me now is all muscle and strength, with the finest of fine lines touching his forehead and an entire arm and shoulder decorated in art—and yet there is still something so familiar and boyish about him.

  Something that feels so right about us.

  He bites his bottom lip, his gaze drifting over my breasts. “So I guess I only have twenty minutes, then.”

  “For what?” I smile coyly.

  I get a knowing smirk in return, and then his sinewy arms are tensing as he climbs up onto me.

  Chapter 20

  THEN

  2006, Camp Wawa, End of Week Five

  “Are you still having a good time, honey?” Mom’s voice sounds breezy and light. We’ve been catching up on Saturdays, when I come into town and can get solid cell phone reception, but last weekend she never answered my call. It’s been two weeks since I spoke to her—a record.

  I smile. “The best time. Really. It’s been great.”

  “I’m so happy to hear that. And that you’re staying out of trouble.”

  “It’s not hard. I’m still on probation.”

  “What about that boy?”

  I glance over at Kyle, to see him and Eric punching each other in the arm as Ashley draws money from the bank machine. I wonder if my mother would consider me losing my virginity to that boy last weekend “staying out of trouble.”

  “He’s fine.”

  “Piper—”

  “How are things on the island?” I ask, to divert the conversation.

  “Oh, I’m having a fantastic time. It’s exactly what I needed.”

  “But you’re coming home in three weeks, right?”

  “Of course I’m coming home. You’ll be home.”