Other Books by Selena Laurence
The Hiding From Love Series (New Adult Contemporary Romance)
Hidden (Hiding From Love #1)
Camouflaged (Hiding From Love Novella #0.5)
Concealed (Hiding From Love #2)
Buried (Hiding From Love #3) Coming April, 2014
The Lush Series (Rock Star Contemporary Romance)
As Lush As It Gets (Lush #1) Coming February 2014
Lush #2 Coming Spring 2014
Lush #3 Coming Summer 2014
To the culture of my childhood: For chile verde, tamales, flamenco, Spanglish, barrios, cholos, La Llorona, arroyos, luminarias, acequias, patrones, compadres, y más importante de todos:
La Vida.
Gabe
A donde el corazón se inclina, el pie camina.
Follow Your Heart.
THE guy standing in front of me is a pussy. Granted, I don’t know him, but I can tell. Little wire-rimmed glasses, floppy brown hair, t-shirt with the damn chemical formula for coffee on the front of it – a pussy. And he’s just answered the door at the apartment of the woman I’ve come four thousand miles to see.
“Can I help you?” he says as he fiddles with his iPhone.
“Yeah, I’m here to see Alexis.” I inhale and smell the faint odor of bacon from inside the apartment.
The guy finally quits fucking with the phone and looks up at me. I see when it happens. That moment he realizes who I am.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he mutters, a scowl settling on his face.
I smile – sort of. “Excuse me?”
“Marco? Who’s at the door?” I hear her call from inside. The adrenaline shoots through my system and I clench my fists, the need to take some sort of physical action nearly overwhelming. Knowing she is so close, but this asshole is literally and figuratively in between us, is almost more than I can bear.
Marco, the pussy, is still standing there, staring at me, and before he can gather himself to answer, Alexis peeks out from behind him, trying to see who’s interrupting their domestic bliss at nine a.m. on a Sunday morning.
The smile she starts with drops from her face, and I can see her skin visibly pale. She steps out from behind her boyfriend, the same boyfriend she’d said she was done with two years ago, and gapes at me.
“Hey, babe,” I say cheerfully. “How the hell are you?”
Alexis
No hay rosa sin espinas.
Every rose has its thorns.
I stand next to my boyfriend of four years and look into the face of the man I cheated on him with. Here. At the front door of my apartment. And it all comes rushing back. The way he made me feel. His heat and his size and his obnoxious, overbearing personality. Marco looks down at me as if I had something to do with this very unwelcome intrusion.
“So, Lex, you going to ask him in…or what?” he drawls at me.
I look up at Marco, wondering if he’s lost his mind. He stares back at me blandly. “Uh,” I clear my throat. “Um, yeah. Why don’t you come on in.”? I gesture to the living room with my arm as I move out of the way.
Marco, however, seems to be planted in concrete in the doorway. Gabe steps toward him, and they stand there, chest to chest. Well, not exactly, since Gabe is about three inches taller, but in any case, neither one of them moves, and I can feel the testosterone churning like water in a Jacuzzi.
“Marco?” I ask quietly. “Are you going to let him by?”
He blinks one more time at Gabe, who bares his teeth at him – yeah, I know it was supposed to be a smile, but I’m just sayin’.
“Sorry about that. Come right on in. Looks like she’s invited you,” Marco says, his voice full of bitterness as he steps out of the way.
“Cool,” Gabe responds, moving inside. “But I’m not a vampire, you know. I don’t need an invitation.”
I swallow. Marco’s face turns an interesting shade of burgundy and his jaw clenches. Gabe walks on in and sits down on the sofa, looking like he owns the place. Some things never change.
Holy crap. Why is this happening to me? Haven’t I been punished enough for what I did? I look at Marco apologetically. “I swear I had no idea,” I grit through my teeth to him as we continue to stand in the doorway. “I haven’t had any contact with him, just like I promised. None.”
Marco avoids eye contact with me. “I believe you. So what the hell is he doing here?”
“I have no idea, but I’ll get rid of him fast, I promise.”
“Do you think you’re safe alone with him?” he asks.
If there is one thing I’m not, it’s safe alone with Gabe, but not in the way Marco thinks.
“Yes,” I say truthfully, sticking to Marco’s definition of “safe.”
“Then I’m out of here,” he replies. “I’m sorry, but I can’t deal with this right now. I’ve got to keep my head in the game if I’m going to take those LSATs next month. I’ll go grab a cup of coffee. Call me when he’s gone.”
“Okay,” I lean up and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “I’ll see you later.”
He grimaces at me and walks out, shutting the door behind him. I stand there for a minute, afraid to turn around and face what comes next. Suddenly a low voice speaks next to my ear and I jump, turning to face the 6’1”, 210 pounds of male beauty who is standing close enough for me to feel his heat and smell his cologne.
“Two years, babe,” he growls. “Two fucking years, and not a word.”
I swallow and try to look away. He brings his fingers up underneath my chin and forces my eyes to his.
“We had an agreement. And don’t try to tell me your feelings changed. I can see it in your face. Nothing’s changed in those two years. Not one damn thing.” He steps closer, forcing me to back up against the door. Then he puts his hands on either side of my head. He leans into me and breathes deeply. “God, you still smell the same. Like flowers and Alexis.”
My heart rate skyrockets even higher, something I didn’t think was possible right now. He brushes his cheek against mine, and I can feel the stubble there, my nerve endings flaring to life as I remember the last time he had his face this close to me. I can almost smell the dust and diesel fumes from the trucks where we stood in the center of the US Army camp in Afghanistan, chaos erupting around us while he caressed my face and murmured how he loved me.
“What are you doing here?” I whisper, trying hard to keep my hands at my sides so I won’t touch him back.
He pulls away enough to look me in the eye. “What do you think I’m doing here? I came for you.”
I gather up all my emotional strength and give him a little shove. He moves just enough so I can step away from him and the door. I know it’s only because he’s letting me. If Gabe wanted to keep me pinned here for the next twelve hours, he could.
I walk into the living room and sit down in the armchair. No couch for me. Huh uh. I need my own – very private – single space.
Gabe smirks as he eases past me to sit on the sofa, as if he knows exactly why I made the seating selection I did.
“You know, you can’t just show up at people’s homes unannounced like this,” I scold, trying to keep things as formal as possible. “You really upset Marco.”
Gabe snorts. “Marky Mark will get over it,” he replies, rolling his eyes.
“I’m serious, Gabe. This is totally unacceptable.”
“And I’m serious too, Alexis,” he responds, cool as the proverbial cucumber. “He’ll get over it, and I don’t give a damn what’s acceptable or not. You and I had an agreement and you reneged. I want to know why, and I’m not going anywhere until you explain it to me. I might not go anywhere then
either, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”
I run my hand through my dark hair in frustration. “Give me a minute to catch up here. You know we haven’t spoken in two years, and suddenly you’re at my door on a Sunday morning with no warning. The last time I heard from you was a letter from Hawaii like eighteen months ago or something.”
He leans forward and his jaw is set in a hard line, his eyes narrowed. “Really? You really want to bring up the fact that I wrote you eighteen months ago from Hawaii? You want to talk about the last time you heard from me? Because I can tell you the last time I heard from you. Oh, wait! That’s right. I never did hear from you. No phone calls, no letters, not one fucking word, Alexis. After I told you I loved you, after you swore you and college boy were done.”
He stands up and starts pacing the room like some sort of caged jungle cat. The apartment is small and he’s big, and I feel claustrophobic suddenly, like the room doesn’t have enough air.
“What do you want me to say? Does it even matter why it happened? It’s over. It’s been over for two years. Why are you doing this now?”
He continues to pace the room, touching little things as he walks around, observing my physical environment in a way that makes me feel like he is undressing me, seeing my vulnerabilities in my knick-knacks.
“You really think it’s over?” he asks softly. Dangerously.
I stand up and fold my arms protectively across my chest. “Yes, I really do.”
He stalks closer to me. “Yeah?”
I swallow, my breath coming faster the closer he gets.
He reaches me and stands almost flush against me from head to toe, his arms at his sides. I should step back, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let him know how uncomfortable he is making me. His voice is deep and heated, and I feel it low in my core, where it circles around places it shouldn’t.
“If it’s over, then you won’t mind if I do this, because it won’t mean a damn thing.” He leans down and brushes his lips across mine. I moan softly, unable to control the involuntary reaction to the sexiest man I’ve ever known.
His lips return, pressing more firmly this time, his tongue sliding out to lick my top lip, then my bottom one. I feel his hand come up behind my head as he digs his fingers into my hair and pulls me closer. My mouth opens to him and his tongue slides inside like temptation into a sinner.
As I melt into his hold on me, my gut burning to touch him everywhere, a door slams outside and I start, pulling away. My eyes fly open as I realize what I’ve done. He has that look on his face that I hate. The one that says, “I can melt your panties any damn time I want.” In that moment I hate him, hate what he can make me do. Before I know what I’m doing, I bring my hand up and send it flying across his face with a loud smack.
He stands and stares at me for a minute, and I see something that looks a lot like hurt cross his face, making me regret what I’ve done almost before I’ve done it. But then he recovers and the cocky smirk returns.
“That’s what I thought,” he snarls at me. “This,” – he gestures between the two of us – “is nowhere near done. And I’m not going anywhere, babe, so when you’re done denying it, give me a call. I sent you my number plenty of times. I’m sure you’ve got it stashed away somewhere. I’ll be in town indefinitely.”
With that, he strolls out the door. I have a vase in my hand before he’s even cleared the opening, but the shattering sound it makes as it hits the door is no more satisfying than kissing him was.
Gabe
De buenas intenciones está empedrado el camino al infierno.
The road to hell is paved with good intentions.
WELL that went fucking great. After two years of trying to forget the only woman I’ve ever fallen for, I chased her down halfway around the world, barged in on her and the boyfriend, did all the things I know she hates, and thoroughly pissed her off. I hear the ceramics hit the door after I close it, the noise of shattering mimicking the pieces of my broken ego.
She fucking hit me. And damn if it didn’t hurt. My heart and my pride, if not my tough jaw. For the first time since I decided to make this trip, I wonder if it was a mistake.
Alexis and I met in Afghanistan when I was a soldier and she was a UN volunteer doing humanitarian work. I was assigned to be her official escort during her month-long stay, and initially she hated me. Sort of like today. But after spending several days locked up together in a cave while Taliban insurgents had snipers stationed all around us, we got to know each other better. I was well aware she had a boyfriend, but I’d been lusting after her for two weeks before we got trapped, and when faced with my mortality and hers, I couldn’t be the good guy. I took every advantage offered to me and had spectacular sex with her. What I hadn’t counted on was that I was going to fall in love too.
I reach the parking lot outside her building and swing a leg over my bike. A month ago, I dropped out of college then flew from Hawaii to California, where my mother lives. I bought a used Harley and an old pickup truck, sold everything I could, and got ahold of a buddy of mine from the service whose cousin owns a garage in Austin. I’m going to start as a mechanic tomorrow morning, and now I need to find a better place to live than the cheap motel I’m staying in near the University of Texas campus.
The engine of the bike roars to life, startling everyone within a half block. I laugh to myself as I slide my aviators on my face. Me on this bike is a strong statement and thus, the reason why I ride it. I love nothing more than fulfilling the stereotypes Alexis has of me.
I’m slowly rolling out of the parking lot when Marky Mark comes cruising by in his little Nissan Leaf. Of course. An electric car. Pussy. I wonder if that’s the only reason she was ever interested in me. I’m the anti-Marco. His polar opposite – a walking, talking poster boy for sex, drugs, and rock and roll to his uber-hipster, socially conscious overachievement.
We glare at each other as we pass, and I vow that no matter what it takes I’m going to get her to listen to reason. I didn’t come four thousand miles to lose the woman of my dreams to fucking Marco and his Nissan Leaf.
I spend the rest of the day packing up and getting ready to move to my new place. It only takes one phone call to get the apartment I want, and I view it as a sign that the universe approves of my plans for getting Alexis back. I know she’ll be pissed at first, but in the end it’ll work out. It has to, because I’ve tried living without her for two years, and that shit isn’t going to cut it. I spent my last six months in Afghanistan hoping like hell there was some explanation for why the girl who’d promised to wait for me while I finished my tour hadn’t responded to any of my letters, emails, Skype messages, or even international fucking satellite phone calls.
When I arrived home in Sacramento after getting my discharge, the reality came crashing down. She wasn’t waiting for me at the airport. She hadn’t answered my emails with my flight plans. I’d been dumped. So I picked up my surfing shit, bought a one-way ticket to Hawaii, and devoted the next two years of my life to trying to forget Alexis and helping my best friend, Nick, get his life back from PTSD. In the end, Nick didn’t need me. He needed a curvy little blonde named Lyndsey, but all’s well that ends well.
With Nick and Lyndsey engaged, my major in school still undeclared, and the nights of meaningless sex becoming more and more repugnant, I knew it was time to make a change. The spitfire from Austin wouldn’t leave my head or my heart. I had to try one last time.
I wasn’t off to a great start, but when I saw her in domestic bliss with Marky Mark it hurt so fucking bad that I lashed out. It’s what I’ve always done. Let the anger course through me and come out of my mouth or my fists. It’s a really bad habit and I need to get it the fuck under control if I’m going to show Alexis the man I can be for her.
I go to bed in the tiny motel room thinking about how her skin felt when I touched her face. She hasn’t changed at all since Afghanistan, except for a certain sadness around her eyes. It’s selfish, but
I hope maybe some of that is due to losing me from her life. God knows I’ve suffered enough. I can’t stand the idea that I meant so little to her that she’s never mourned me at all. Visions of her beautiful smile and satiny smooth skin flash through my mind as I fall asleep, imagining a day when she’ll look at me like she loves me again.
Alexis
No sólo de pan vive el hombre.
Man cannot live on bread alone.
“YOU have got to be kidding me,” Marco snarls as he stomps back in my apartment. “That. Is the guy? That caveman? Jesus, Alexis. It was bad enough knowing you did it, but now I have to see that you did it with some sort of Harley-riding, muscle-pumping prick with tattoos?”
I cringe, so used to accepting Marco’s way of viewing the world that for a moment I forget Gabe might be those things on the outside. But deep down he’s generous and caring, and he loved me – of that I have no doubt. I feel my breath shudder as I try to inhale and maintain a steady voice.
“Look, I understand this is upsetting, but he’s gone now. He just had to, I don’t know, get some closure or something.” God, what a horrible liar I am.
“Closure.” Marco snorts. “He probably can’t even pronounce the word, much less understand the concept.”
I feel my hackles rise. I know I shouldn’t be defending the interloper to my damn boyfriend, but really.
I count to ten. “Marco, I don’t want to argue with you. I didn’t ask him to come, and he’s gone now. Don’t take it out on me.”
“Fine.” He stomps around some more, gathering up books and his sweatshirt. “I don’t want to fight either. Let’s just forget this happened and move on. I’ve got a ton of work to do at the library. You coming?”
My brain feels like it’s been knocked around inside my head, and my pulse rate has to be twice as high as normal. The thought of trying to study right now is overwhelming. I’m struggling not to flip out with this simple conversation. No way I can manage to sit in a silent library next to Marco for the next four hours and maintain my cool.
Concealed - A Hiding From Love Novel #2 Page 1
