Say You Still Love Me: A Novel

by K. A. Tucker

“He figured it out.”

  “It?” His eyebrows rise. “You mean us?”

  “Yeah. Apparently you stripped me with your eyes and I was oozing pheromones or something.”

  “True. And . . .” He grins. “Definitely true.”

  My cheeks flush. “What is with you guys? Honestly.”

  The humor slides from his face. “So, what does this mean? Do I need to be putting in for a building transfer tonight? Am I going to be escorted out tomorrow?” He swallows, looking ready to say something else, but he doesn’t.

  “I would never let that happen. And David was . . . okay about it.” Or at least tolerable. He listened and kept his insults to a minimum. “He promised he wouldn’t say anything. That was surprising, actually.”

  “And you believe him?”

  “I don’t know, but I didn’t have a choice. If he thought you were just some guy I was screwing, there’s no way he would have kept quiet. But I’ve probably bought us a few weeks. Hoping, anyway.”

  He nods slowly. “As long as you can control those pheromones of yours.”

  I poke his side, earning his smirk.

  “It feels like being at Wawa again, doesn’t it? Pretending not to be together all day long?”

  “You’re right. And I didn’t like it then, either.” I fall into his body with a groan, marveling at how comfortable I am with Kyle, how easily I throw myself at him after just one night back in his arms, not caring if this needy, emotional version of me doesn’t match up with the hard-nosed version that just negotiated a multimillion-dollar rental deal over grilled salmon. “Come on, I’ve been waiting to get you upstairs all day.”

  A soft curse slips through Kyle’s lips as we step through my front door.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He shakes his head, smoothing his hand over the small of my back. “Nothing. Just . . . this place is nice.”

  I set my purse on the hallway desk and kick off my heels, sighing with relief as my bare feet hit the cool hardwood. “Make yourself at home. Seriously.”

  “Is that you guys?” Ashley hollers, and I hear the twinge of excitement in her voice.

  “Depends on which ‘you guys’ you mean,” I call back, smiling and slipping my hand into Kyle’s to lead him in.

  Ashley is sitting cross-legged on the couch, with balls of pink and white yarn scattered beside her, a knitting needle in each hand. Her eyes widen at the sight of Kyle. “Oh my God!” Casting her blanket aside, she leaps up and runs for him, throwing herself into his arms. “I can’t believe it!”

  Kyle is grinning as they embrace. It’s an entirely different response than he got from Christa. “Good to see you, too, Ash.”

  She pulls away, smoothing her blouse over her hips. “This is crazy, isn’t it? Us, all together again like this?”

  He cocks his head, peering down at her with genuine affection. “How have you been?”

  She shrugs. “Single and looking for a job. You know . . . living the dream.” They share an awkward laugh. “Oh, hey, Piper, those chairs Marcelle picked out arrived today. Wait ’til you see them.” Her emerald eyes light up. “She’s so good.”

  Ashley and my interior decorator have hit it off, exchanging dozens of emails a day. Somehow the scope has expanded to include the patio, as well as my home office and the empty sitting area in my bedroom.

  Her gaze shifts back to Kyle. “Piper mentioned that you still talk to Eric, right?”

  “Uh . . . yeah. ” Kyle nods, ducking his head. “It’s been a while, though.”

  She slides her hands into her pockets. “Say hi to him for me, next time, will ya?”

  “I will. For sure,” he promises, his eyes solemn. “Do you want him doing that?” He points to something behind us.

  I follow Kyle’s gaze to the couch, where Elton is batting at the white ball of yarn that Ashley’s using.

  “Hey! No! Don’t you do that!” she scolds, charging for the living room. Elton takes off, skittering across the floor with the yarn, dragging her blanket behind him. “Bad kitty!”

  Kyle frowns at Elton as the cat races past us, having abandoned his toy. “What’s wrong with his tail?”

  “Anxiety.”

  His dark eyebrows rise. “Cats get anxiety?”

  “This one does.” I slip my hand into his once again, intent on not letting go for the rest of the night. “Come on, I’ll show you around.”

  “And this is my bedroom.” The last room to show him in my condo, with the added surprise of two silver-blue wing chairs and a creamy shag rug now set next to the gas fireplace. Marcelle has exquisite taste.

  Kyle hasn’t said much through the tour. Now he stops in the middle of the room, tossing his backpack as he takes it all in. His gaze drifts to the French doors. “Is that a different patio than the other one?”

  “Yeah. But it’s just a small one.” I push my bedroom door closed.

  “ ‘Just a small one,’ she says,” he murmurs, strolling over to the other set of doors. He flicks the light switch on. “This is your closet?” His gaze takes in the custom cabinetry and shoe racks.

  I sidle up to him to settle my hand on his abdomen. “Yes.”

  He smirks at our reflection in the bathroom’s vanity mirror across the way. “Your closet is bigger than my bedroom.”

  “No, it isn’t,” I say, trying to brush it off, though we both know it is.

  He looks down at me with odd reluctance in his gaze.

  “What?”

  “Nothing, I’m just . . . I know this all feels normal for you. But it’s not normal for me.”

  “It’s just a condo! Ashley and Christa are fine living here.”

  “They’re not dating you. Or whatever we are.”

  I feel a pinch in my chest. “Is this an ego thing? Because, honestly? I deal with fragile male egos all day long, so please don’t tell me you’ve developed one now, too. I’m tired of it.” My voice is escalating, but I can’t help it.

  “No, you just don’t understand.”

  I fold my arms over my chest. “So enlighten me, then.”

  He sighs. “Do you remember those shitty little cabins at Wawa?”

  “How could I forget. They were hot and stuffy . . .”

  “Mine smelled like dirty socks and dead things.”

  I laugh.

  Kyle bites his lip. “Sometimes I wish we could go back for a night.”

  I reach for his arm, dragging my fingers over the tattoo of the cliff, and us. “So do I.”

  His jaw tenses. “I already knew you were way out of my league, but there, it felt like we were on an even playing field. Here . . .” His gaze skates over my bedroom again. “I can’t even afford standing-room-only with an obstructed view in this stadium.”

  “But I told you, I don’t care about”—How do I word this delicately?—“our financial differences.”

  “Yeah, but I do. Because people are going to think I’m with you for your money. That’s something my shitty father and brothers would do. But I’m not them and I don’t ever want you to think that. I don’t want your money, Piper. I hate myself for ever taking it from your father.”

  “Is that what this is really about?”

  He bows his head.

  “You didn’t have a choice. My father threatened you.”

  “Yeah, I did have a choice, Piper. My options might not have been ideal, but I had a choice. I could have cut you out of my life to get your father off my back but not taken the money. I chose to take it and I’m ashamed of that.” He frowns. “And I know that’s going to come up again and again.”

  “No, it’s not.”

  He gives me a flat look and I have to avert my gaze, because he’s not wrong. Christa condemned him for it. My mother’s opinion of him is low, in part because of the money. Even I chastised him for it, the day he told me.

  “If my father offered you money now—”

  “No.” He shakes his head.

  “More money. Ten times as much—”

&n
bsp; “No.”

  “A hundred times—”

  “No.” His voice is cold and hard, his jaw set with determination. “I’ll never take a dime from him, ever again.”

  “So then, what are you worried about? What other people think of you?”

  “No, I don’t give a shit what they think about me. But I’m worried about what the people who matter to you think.” Resignation fills his eyes.

  “If they really care about me, they’ll accept you.” And as I say those words, I know them to be true.

  He swallows, then nods, though he still seems unconvinced.

  “Remember when I first got to Wawa? How out of place I was?”

  “Yeah.” His gaze drifts over the length of my body. “You were the hot new girl.”

  I begin unfastening the buttons of my emerald-green blouse, one by one. I tug the zipper on my pencil skirt and let it slide down and pool at my ankles so I can get to the rest of the buttons. Kyle watches with curious eyes but doesn’t make a move. Taking a step backward, I shed my blouse. “I was the girl whose mom drove her to Camp Wawa in a Porsche, and who didn’t know a single soul.” I reach up to unfasten the clasp to my bra and let it spring free.

  Kyle’s eyes flare with heat.

  “The girl who fell head over heels for a boy the first moment she laid eyes on him.” I keep backing up until my thighs hit my mattress. “And every time she caught his eye after that, every time he looked at her the way only he did, she felt like the luckiest girl in the world.”

  Kyle’s gaze lifts to meet mine. “That’s because he knew he was the luckiest guy in the world for that one summer.”

  “Money didn’t matter to them then.” I bite my lip, pushing my lace panties down over my hips, letting them fall to the floor. “Please don’t let it matter to them now.” I let vulnerability fill my voice, a sound that has become foreign to me in recent years, as I’ve learned to maintain the edge I need to become Piper Calloway.

  Here, though, with Kyle, I don’t need to wear that armor.

  He sighs. “I’m sorry, you’re right.” He stalks forward, taking my chin in his hands and kissing me deeply. “I just don’t know how to fix what I did.”

  “Start by always choosing me—us—no matter what, from now on.” I tug at his T-shirt, a sly smile touching my lips. “Starting with right now.”

  Chapter 22

  THEN

  2006, Camp Wawa, End of Week Six

  “Smirnoff?”

  “Hell no. That tastes like ass.” Eric cringes. “Absolut, all the way, baby.”

  Kyle rolls his eyes. “You can’t even tell the difference.”

  “Sure, I can!”

  Kyle turns to Ashley and me. “What do you want me to grab you?”

  “Mike’s Hard Lemonade,” Ashley requests, handing him a ten-dollar bill. “I think that should cover it?”

  “Piper?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. Whatever’s good. Surprise me. Just not beer.”

  “Mike’s Hard, Surprise Me, Smirnoff—got it.”

  Eric smacks Kyle in the shoulder. “Absolut!”

  Kyle holds his hand out. “Fork it over, and fast. They close at nine.”

  “Nah, man, you owe me.” Eric waggles his finger between Kyle and me. “Don’t think I didn’t notice. Seriously? You couldn’t leave me just one?” he adds when Kyle dips his head, grinning.

  Meanwhile, my face bursts with heat. The door had barely shut behind Shane this afternoon when Kyle and I landed in his bed, the week of waiting leaving us pent up with frustration and anticipation. He had two condoms and I accidentally tore one with my nails, trying to roll it on him.

  And one apparently wasn’t enough for us this afternoon, so Kyle yanked on his shorts and darted over to Eric’s cabin to “borrow” the fresh box.

  We didn’t use them all, but we definitely used a few.

  “Yeah, fine . . .” Kyle digs out his wallet and thumbs through the few dollar bills in the fold. We just got paid, but he’s been saving his money.

  “Here.” I pull out my wallet and count out ten dollars.

  “You haven’t cashed those yet?” Ashley frowns at the three Wawa employee checks that are tucked inside.

  “Best way to save.” It’s the truth, but it’s also a lie. The fact is, I don’t need the money. I have an account that Mom transfers money into plus my Mastercard that she pays off each month. “Here. Just use this for everything.” I hand Kyle the credit card. I don’t have enough time to get to a bank machine to pull out more cash, and the card will definitely cover whatever he’s buying for us.

  “Dude.” Eric’s eyebrows rise. “Must be nice.”

  I ignore him. “Do you think they’ll check against the signature?”

  “Probably not. This place is small.” Kyle studies the card sitting in the palm of his hand a moment, as if considering whether to take it.

  “Tick tock!” Eric taps his watch. “Five minutes left.”

  “All right.” He shrugs. “Let’s see if this works.”

  “And grab me another box of condoms, too, you thief!” Eric hollers after him.

  “Why? They’ll just expire,” Kyle throws back.

  We pile into the car and wait for him, because a bunch of teenagers loitering outside a store that sells booze on a Saturday night is a touch suspicious.

  As it is, I’m wary of bringing alcohol back to Wawa. “Is this a good idea?”

  “Darian’s chill on Saturdays. And we’re not gonna be dumb enough to get caught,” Eric says, biting on his thumbnail, his eager eyes locked on the entrance to Provisions. He’s the main instigator in this whole plan to get drunk tonight, though we are willing accomplices.

  Kyle returns five minutes later, his arms filled with brown paper bags.

  “No issues?” I ask when he climbs into the driver’s seat after loading the trunk.

  “Didn’t even I.D. me. I didn’t know what to get you, so I grabbed some coolers and Jägermeister. Hope that’s okay.”

  “It’s fine.” It’s not like my mom will have any idea what I bought. Provisions sells everything.

  He slides my credit card into my hand and leans in to kiss me. “Thank you.”

  “Of course. I don’t mind at all.”

  “Let’s rock and roll!” Eric drums his hands on the back of the driver’s seat.

  “Shhh!” Ashley warns as Eric stumbles over his own two feet in the dark and the bottles stuffed into his backpack clang together, the sound unmistakable.

  “Shit, I’m not even drunk yet,” he whispers, tipping the bottle of vodka back to take a swig of it straight. He smiles through a cringe. “Wait ’til I’m drunk.”

  My attention veers to Darian’s cabin. Light flashes in the tiny window. She doesn’t usually venture out on Saturday night, preferring to spend the night in front of her TV. However, a loud and obnoxious Eric might draw her out.

  I have to admit, while a part of me wonders if maybe we should just stay in our respective cabins and keep out of trouble, the other part feels the thrill of a Saturday night, having fun with friends. We’ve been under watch for too long.

  “Where are we hanging out tonight?” I ask.

  “My cabin, I guess?” Kyle offers. “Unless you think Christa wants to play drinking games with us.”

  “Uh, my guess would be no to that. So . . . what kind of drinking game are we playing, anyway?”

  Kyle and Eric exchange a look.

  “The only drinking game.”

  “Oh, God, have I told you guys how much I hate black licorice?” Olivia’s tongue hangs from her mouth as if that will dispel the taste of it.

  “Only, like, a thousand times already,” Avery mutters, rolling her eyes.

  I grin from my spot sprawled across Kyle’s bed, my body relaxed and buzzing from more shots than I can count. Kyle sits on the floor in front of me, the perfect spot for me to draw lazy circles over the back of his neck and toy with his wild hair, reveling in the feel of gooseflesh sprou
ting along his skin every time I touch him.

  We picked up Avery, Olivia, Colin, and a counselor named Frank—a decent-enough guy whose only fault is his crush on Olivia—on the way to Kyle’s cabin, and the eight of us have been playing Never Have I Ever as the rain softly pitter-patters against the roof and the glow of a camp lantern casts a dim light. Much cozier than the naked bulbs overhead and perfect to hide flushed cheeks and sheepish smiles as the questions quickly turn more risqué.

  “It’s your turn,” Avery prompts Ashley.

  “Aren’t we done yet?” Ashley whines, falling back into the bunk across from me.

  If she’s irritated about Eric messing around with the beautiful redhead, she doesn’t show it anymore. “Fine. Never have I ever . . .” Ashley’s nose pinches with thought, “experienced love at first sight.”

  Colin groans. “Seriously?”

  Kyle looks over his shoulder at me, smiles, and then takes a shot.

  I follow suit, cringing at the taste of black licorice. I sense Avery’s curious eyes on us. I know it’s wrong and petty and unnecessary, but I feel somehow victorious, that I have achieved something that she—even with her allure and beauty—could not.

  I won Kyle’s heart this summer.

  “My turn,” Eric warns with an impish smile, filling our plastic shot glasses for the next round. “Never have I ever rubbed one off while fantasizing about someone in this room.” He tips his head back and downs a shot. Frank and Colin follow almost immediately.

  Giggles erupt around the cabin, but slowly, hesitantly, everyone else takes a shot. Kyle casts another knowing glance my way, his eyes hooded and slightly red, as he downs his.

  “Okay!” Eric tips the bottle upside down to drain the last of the Jäger. The emptied bottle of vodka has rolled under one of the beds. “Well, that didn’t last long. Last question. Never have I ever—”

  “Hey, it’s my turn!” Colin scowls.

  “We brought the booze, we get the last question. You assholes are buying next weekend, by the way. Never have I ever gone skinny-dipping with my fellow Wawa camp counselors!”

  They all let out a cheer and down their shots.