More Than Words: A Novella

by Avalon, Lilly

  My heart is already lost.

  Chapter Seven

  It goes on and on, all night. One new sensation after another. Never-ending kisses on every inch of skin. Landon teases me, explores me, and brings me to the edge repeatedly. He luxuriates my body with delicate touches I’ll never forget. We finally fall asleep sometime in the middle of the night, tangled in each other.

  When I wake up in the morning, he’s gone.

  There’s no trace of him. My hand feels the side of the bed he was on. With my other hand, I rub my eyes, hoping that when I open them he will be there. When he doesn’t appear where he’s supposed to be, I lie back down and stare at the ceiling. I’d wonder if it was all a dream, but I know it wasn’t. The evidence is in the ache in my legs and the faint feel of where his lips touched mine.

  I slip out of bed and into some clothes. My mind is swirling with everything that occurred last night. I slink into the kitchen and make myself peanut butter on toast. I sit on the counter, chewing slowly as I replay every touch with my eyes closed.

  It was real. It happened. I can still feel Landon’s skin against mine, igniting me to my bones. For the last eight months, I never imagined Landon could be so passionate. Maybe it’s because he’s always been such a goofball. I guess that’s why they say you should never judge a book by its cover.

  Everything I’m feeling unravels like ribbon from a spool when I realize he left without saying goodbye. He let me use him. By the same token, I let him use me. I didn’t want the night to end, but it inevitably did. The research was finished and that meant Landon was, too. Everything goes back to where it was.

  But I don’t want to go back to where it was.

  *

  He doesn’t call me all week. I hole myself up in my bedroom and write like I never have before. I take the experience—every moment we shared from that night—and pour my heart and soul out in my story. The words are unfragmented and uncensored. What was felt couldn’t be ignored, not for me.

  Yet, it was for him.

  Ivy comes over on Thursday morning to unearth me from my cave. “You haven’t been out of these rooms since I took you out on Friday, have you?”

  I’m curled up on my couch with my laptop on my lap. “No. Been busy.”

  “Have you even changed clothes?”

  I glance down at the pajamas I’ve been wearing for the last five days. “Um…of course I changed clothes?” Once, I think.

  Her hand comes to her hips. “Did you just answer in the form of a question? You’re a terrible liar.”

  “I wasn’t trying to be truthful.”

  “I get that you need to finish writing this book, I do. But for the love of all that is holy, you need to step outside before the walls start closing in on you.”

  “I will.”

  Her eyes narrow. “Something happened.”

  I swallow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “What happened?”

  “Nothing.” I furiously type, my fingers slamming into the keys.

  “Oh no you don’t.” She yanks my hands up. “What’s wrong?”

  I rub my temples. “Remember your idea to find a guy to practice sex positions with?”

  “Yes.”

  “Remember my writer friend Landon?”

  “Yes.”

  “Remember when I said the only position I’ve ever tried is missionary?”

  “Yes.”

  “It isn’t anymore.”

  She finally catches my meaning, and grips my arm. “No. Way.”

  “Yes. Way.” I set my fingers back on the keys but she pulls them away again.

  “You are not going to stop there.”

  I groan, leaning my head back against the couch cushion. “What else is there to say?”

  “Um…only all of it.” She folds her arms across her chest. “What the hell, Dana? You can’t not tell me about this.”

  “Tell my best friend about how I’ve inadvertently fallen for a guy who only wanted me for one night?” I turn to her, my eyes filling with tears.

  “Oh, sweetie.” She wraps her arms around me as I quietly cry on her shoulder and tell her everything that happened. It feels good to let it all out, finally tell someone other than the document on my computer.

  After I finish, she lets out a sigh. “You know…I’m not a mind reader or anything, but I’m pretty sure Landon cares about you as much as you do about him.”

  I wish that could be the truth. “But he left.”

  “He was probably afraid to stay. Afraid that you were the one who considered all of that only research. But let me tell you something, hon. That wasn’t research. That’s full-on, pure ‘wanted it all along’ disguised as research.”

  I laugh, wiping my eyes with the sleeve of my shirt. “Is that right?”

  She nods resolutely. “Definitely. He has it bad for you. You just need to let him know you feel it, too.”

  Is it that simple? Tell him how I feel, then hope and wish and pray he’s willing to admit the same? I think back on moments Landon and I shared. There were many occasions it almost felt like something was there, but I overlooked it. Ignored it. That night it couldn’t be ignored any longer. It was there. It is there.

  I can’t help but wonder if I’ve been wrong all my life about passion and love. If Landon can give so much to me, what am I doing wasting my time with anyone else? There’s only one question. Does Landon feel the same way? Maybe he’s attracted and aroused by me, but that doesn’t mean he wants more. If he doesn’t, would I be okay with that? It’s not as though we’re best friends. Our friendship is built on writing, it centers on writing.

  Is it enough, though?

  *

  When I turn in my manuscript the next morning, Jamie hugs me. Hugs me. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Her words come out in a rush, like a sigh of relief.

  I let out a giggle. “You haven’t even read it yet. It could be complete crap.”

  She releases me. “From you?” She purses her lips and shakes her head. “Not possible. I know you well enough that you went through a lot of blood, sweat, and tears writing this.” She shakes the manuscript in her hand.

  I look at it, thinking of the last two weeks and how almost completely literal her words are. “You don’t know the half of it.”

  Later that afternoon, Jamie calls me. I’m back at home and snuggled under a blanket in my living room, contemplating my next clean romance. “Dana Darling, you are phenomenal.”

  “I know. Wait, why this time?”

  “Call Me Back. I just finished it.”

  I sit up straight. “Already? I gave it to you a few hours ago.”

  “And I couldn’t stop reading it.”

  “Really?” I try to bite back my smile, but I can’t contain it.

  “Yes! The emotion and the passion. It’s as if you’re actually there, like it’s happening to you. It certainly felt like it was happening to me. Oh my goodness.”

  I laugh. I can almost picture her fanning herself. “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

  “That’s not the only reason why I called, though. We’re still in need of a new Juliet Oliver.”

  “I know. Have you been able to find someone who fits the bill?”

  “Indeed we have.” She pauses for a few seconds, then says, “You.”

  My jaw drops. “What?”

  “You. We want you. Well, I want you, but I’m sure everyone else will be in full approval once I share your manuscript with them.”

  Me? Become the next Juliet Oliver? “But, I can’t just give up on the rest of my—”

  “You can still write as Dana Darling. But we also want you as Juliet Oliver.”

  “Um…wow.” It’s surreal, and a hell of a lot to take in at once. “Can I think about it?”

  “Take all the time you need. But don’t take too long. We want to get started on the next Juliet Oliver title soon.”

  When I sent Jamie my first manuscript, I had no idea that my cheeky q
uery letter would amuse her enough to sign me. I’ve published five books so far with them. If someone had told me back then that I would not only write a Juliet Oliver book, but also possibly become the next Juliet Oliver, I wouldn’t have believed them.

  And I certainly wouldn’t believe it if they told me I was considering it now.

  Chapter Eight

  Later that evening, I gather up my courage and head to the coffee shop. Other than my trip to drop off my manuscript, this is the first time I’ve been out since last weekend. It’s a much-needed dose of reality, but there’s a strong possibility of running into Landon here. I push the thought aside and tell myself that I need to get back to normal. If I run into him, I’ll deal with it then.

  I stare at the screen on my laptop, reading over the email Jamie sent me after we talked. I’ve probably reread it at least ten times since I got there. I should be writing instead of reading a freaking email until I practically have it memorized. I don’t want to think about the possibility of becoming Juliet Oliver, despite the fact that I experienced a night that gave me enough ideas to write at least one more. I shake my head and open a new document. Fresh start. Back to the familiarity I’ve grown to love.

  I start to type a scene idea I’ve had brewing for a while, but my mind begins to wander and the words start taking on a different shape. Almost as though Juliet Oliver is seeping into what should be Dana Darling. Well, damn it. I let out a sigh and look away from the screen, hoping to get a dose of reality and come to my senses. That’s when I spot Landon.

  I gasp loudly, which draws his attention immediately. When our eyes meet, the reaction is almost palpable. He pauses for a couple seconds before coming over to me. When he’s standing in front of my table, he says, “Hi.”

  “Hi.” I’m nervous, though I shouldn’t be. I mean, this is Landon, my writing partner-in-crime. Who says we can’t talk? His presence is staggering, though. As are those beautiful topaz eyes.

  “Did you finish writing your book on time?” he asks.

  I nod and smile. “Yeah. I turned it in this morning.”

  “Good.”

  “Did you hear back from Joel yet?”

  “Yeah, he called me on Wednesday. We scheduled an appointment for next week.”

  “That’s great.” This is some amazing small talk, I gotta tell you.

  He nods. “I’m gonna…” He points to the counter behind him.

  “Yeah, sure. Go ahead.” I let out a light laugh. “Don’t let me stop you.”

  “Okay.” He walks off, and I try to turn back to my screen to get back to work, but I can’t tear my eyes away from him. I can’t stop thinking about him, about us. About how from the moment we became friends, I should have known my life wouldn’t be the same. About how when he was inside me, we were like two halves of a whole coming together and it made me feel complete.

  How what happened between us was more than words written for a story I had to write.

  I keep my eye on him, not wanting to let him out of my sight. He doesn’t look back at me, not once. My heartbeat accelerates in nervous anticipation. Will he leave without saying goodbye again?

  Once he has his coffee, I see him heading for the door. I clutch my table, fighting the urge to chase him down. When I see him pause at the door, I take my chances and rise from my chair. “Landon!” I yell across the room.

  His head snaps toward me, and he walks back to me quickly, stopping in front of my table again.

  “You aren’t going, are you?” I ask him.

  He shakes his head. “Not if you don’t want me to.”

  “I don’t…and I don’t want this to be over.”

  “What?” The disbelief is written in his eyes.

  “I don’t want this to be over,” I repeat. “Yes, we were writing buddies, and I’d very much like to be that again. But I also want the rest of it, too.”

  “What are you saying?”

  I close my eyes, letting out a shaky breath. “I want you. I want to be with you.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah, I do.” I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I need to lay it all on the line, even if he doesn’t feel the same. “But if you don’t—”

  “You don’t think I want this?” His brows furrow in irritation.

  I blink up at him. “You left without saying goodbye. You haven’t…talked to me. Hell, you wanted to leave just now without even saying more than two words to me. You can’t be interested in a relationship if you can toss me aside so easily.”

  Landon runs his hand over his hair with a sigh. “Dana, do you have any idea how hard it has been for me? I’ve wanted you for awhile.”

  His admission startles me. “Since when?”

  “That first day in the coffee shop.”

  Shaking my head in disbelief, I ask, “Why didn’t you just ask me out back then?”

  “Because you didn’t seem like you wanted to be involved.” He sets his coffee cup down on the table and steps closer. “You’re so damn beautiful; I couldn’t take my eyes off you. When I found out you were a fellow writer, I knew things would be different. They would be better. You kept your distance, though. Kept our relationship light. Kept it safe. But you felt the connection, didn’t you? I felt it from that first day and it hasn’t stopped.”

  “If you felt that way, why did you—”

  “Why did I leave?” He winces as if in regret. “I thought that’s what you wanted. One night of research. I didn’t want to complicate things by being there in the morning, creating that awkward moment where you’d tell me that it was time to go back to the way it was before. It pained me more than you know to leave. I wanted to stay. I wanted to wake up with your arms and legs around me. I wanted to kiss you again and again and again. But I couldn’t stay if one night was all I had with you.”

  My heart pitter-patters nervously as it clings to the hope. “Does this mean you want me?”

  “Of course I want you,” he says, reaching for my hands. “I want you forever. I want to spend every waking moment by your side—writing in this coffee shop during the day and between your sheets at night.”

  I breathe a sigh, and the relief from his words sets me free. “That’s good, because they liked my manuscript so much that they asked me to be the next Juliet Oliver.”

  His eyes brighten. “They did? What did you say?”

  “I haven’t given them an answer, but I’m leaning toward yes.”

  “You’re giving up on your one-horse town romances?”

  “Not at all. I’m still going to write those, too. There’s just one problem.” I move closer to him, our bodies almost touching. “I’m going to need some inspiration if I do write another Juliet Oliver novel.”

  He places his palm against my cheek and murmurs, “I’ll give you all the inspiration you want.”

  “Inspiration is good, but I mostly just want you.”

  “You can have me as long as you want me.”

  He leans down, his lips on mine like he can’t get enough. I angle my head to match his fervent kisses, gripping his shirt and pressing my body to his, not caring that we’re in a public place. This is what I want, and I’m not going to hold myself back any longer.

  “My tigress,” he whispers against my lips.

  I softly chuckle. “I may be in love with your nickname for me.”

  His thumb runs across my cheek. “I may be in love with you.”

  My lips part at his declaration. “It’s possible that I’m in love with you, too,” I admit.

  “Thank God,” he says, his lips coming back down on mine.

  I hold onto this moment, not wanting anyone to take it away from us. It feels as though a great novelist has penned the beginning of our love story, sealing it with a kiss. A promise of the beautiful things to come.

  Our forever.

  THE END

  Acknowledgements

  I cannot thank everyone enough for helping me get to this point! Thank you Marie for the cover, tease
rs, and beta reading. Thank you Stephanie for your awesome editing skills. Thank you Cindy for formatting. Thanks Susan, Briana, and Lisa for beta reading. To the super R.W. for sitting there that night when I read MTW out loud all the way through. To S.R.H. for being an awesome writer friend. Thank you everyone who read and reviewed the ARC. A huge thank you to my spectacular Street Team and all your support and assistance in promoting MTW.

  X’s and O’s for all my family, friends, and fans for everything you do on a daily basis to bring joy to my life. Thanks in advance to everybody who picks up this book (and essentially any of my books anytime). All of you are the reason why I’m motivated to keep writing. I couldn’t do this without you. At all. Seriously.

  I love you all!

  XOXO,

  Lilly Avalon

  About the author

  Lilly Avalon is the author of the erotic romances Here All Along and Resist, and the upcoming novella More Than Words. She’s somewhere in the midst of her twenties and lives mostly in the stories in her head. When she’s not enveloped in the worlds she creates, she’s out in the real world making stories happen. That or reading other romances. It’s a toss-up.

  Copyright 2014 Jessica Sankiewicz

  All Rights Reserved

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please go to Barnes & Noble and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Original cover design by Marie Landry

  Edited by Stephanie Parent

  Available Now and Coming Soon

  Available Now:

  Here All Along (Here All Along #1)

  Every time Hazel Bell goes on a date, she returns home unhappy and disenchanted about love. At least her best friend Adrian Williams is always there for her, even more so now that they’re roommates. After both of them have a bad night out, they decide to just relax and forget the world for a while. It’s been a long time since they’ve been alone together. They certainly weren’t counting on the close quarters bringing out hidden desires. Now it appears their platonic friendship is being put to the test—one that neither can resist. By the end of the night, will it be the end for Hazel and Adrian—or a new beginning?