Start Over: A Novel (Start Again Series #2)

by J. Saman

  “You’ll get sand critters in your hair that way, doll,” Sophia says from behind me as she comes up to join me.

  “Good. I’m hoping they’ll burrow into my brain. If I’m really lucky, they’ll be the flesh-eating sort, and I won’t have to think ever again.”

  “There’s my upbeat girl,” she says, sitting beside me with her knees bent, leaning back with her hands in the sand near my head. “I take it this isn’t just a friendly visit?”

  “I love you, Soph.”

  “Ah, this is serious. I’d bet big bickies this has to do with your bloke.”

  I can only sigh. Suddenly I’m exhausted. The lack of sleep and perpetual overdrive my brain is on with all of this is wearing me down. “He told you about his past, yeah?”

  I shoot upright, but when my face is next to hers, I can only stare at the knowing, unapologetic look in my sister’s beautiful eyes.

  “You knew?”

  “Yes, of course I knew. Don’t scowl at me, you’ll get wrinkles. It’s part of what I do. I investigate and probe into people’s lives, and when my wee little sister tells me that she’s mad over some bloke, I dig.”

  “Why didn’t you ever tell me?” I ask, my voice reflecting the depth of my chafe. I’m not entirely sure I have a reason to be hurt by her withholding, but I am. No, screw that, I have a bloody reason. She’s my sister.

  “Because you were in love with him, and I was afraid the truth would scare you off from that. Especially coming from me. And I did urge him to tell you, so when he ended things without doing so, I figured it was for the best and you didn’t need to know anything else.”

  “Ah, Soph.” I drop back into the sand, raising my forearm over my eyebrows to shield my eyes from the penetrating California sun.

  “Don’t, Ah Soph, me. There was no bloody way I could tell you that story, so ease up. You can hardly blame the wanker for holding that one back from you, though I think he did right.”

  “You do?”

  “Of course I do,” she says in earnest. “That father was bad news. A drunk, a gambler, a child and wife beater, and was steadily working himself up to molester. Scum like that deserve what they get, and according the court documents, Luke wasn’t going to do the deed when it came down to it.”

  “How do you get that information?” I’m stupefied right now. My sister—much like everyone else, I’m quickly learning—isn’t who she appears to be.

  “Information is absurdly easy to procure if you know the right people and have the money to do it. I work in Hollywood, luv bug, so don’t play Connie Coy with me. You know very well what I do.” Sophia leans back into the sand, propped up on her elbows, staring out into the azure waters of the Pacific.

  “So, you don’t think the whole government covert piece is an issue either?”

  Her bleach blonde curls whip in my direction. “Come again?”

  I grin at her, bouncing my eyebrows. “Apparently, your informants are slacking and you don’t know as much as you think.” Sophia frowns, narrowing her bespectacled eyes. “And I can’t talk about it. But yeah, he’s involved in something much larger than his regular nine-to-five.”

  “Oh, I love this man,” she laughs lightly. “You need to marry him straight off. Seriously, Ivy girl, nothing will ever be boring with him.”

  “I like boring.”

  “I know, but you like him more.”

  And that’s it, isn’t it?

  The crux of everything.

  I like Luke more.

  Amazing how a simple statement like that can settle something so convoluted.

  “Yes, I think I bloody well do.”

  “Then stop all this nonsense. You’ve always been a chronic over-thinker, Ivy girl, and that’s as dangerous as it gets. Sometimes things don’t require further analysis. You love him, he loves you, so just get over yourselves already.”

  Laughing, I reach over and grab my sister, pulling her down on top of me and sinking us deeper into the sand.

  She’s laughing too, but she’s also fighting, pushing me away and attempting to bury my face in the sand at the same time. We must look insane to any passersby, but I don’t care and neither does she.

  “What if he hurts me again?” I ask when we’re both breathless and our laughter is starting to subside.

  “Then you tell me and I have him taken care of. You never even have to be involved.”

  I roll my eyes. “Hold back there, Hollywood Homicide. You sound eerily serious. While I appreciate your loyalty, that may be taking it a bit too far.”

  “Suit yourself there, doll, but if that bloke messes you about again, and just so happens to disappear, I wouldn’t go around asking too many questions.” She holds her hands up in surrender. “That’s all I’m saying.”

  “But you think I should give him another go?”

  She chews on the corner of her permanently stained red lip, staring out at the surfers in the distance. “Tell me true blue here, Ivy. Do you love him? Do you think he’s really going to give you the toss again, or is he wanting a ring and babies in whatever order that may come in?”

  “I think the latter.”

  “And you love him? I mean, I know he’s tasty as sin and could probably make a lifelong lesbian such as myself rethink things, but he’s the real deal for you?”

  I laugh, leaning my head on her shoulder. “Yeah. I love him.”

  “Then I say go for it, and if he’s daft enough to hurt you then he’ll have me to answer to. And probably your mate, Claire, too, because she adores you.”

  “Thanks, Soph. You’re the bestest big sister I know.”

  “Right?” She grins, looking at me. “I wish I could commiserate with you here on the way men ruin lives, but I can’t. Women are so much easier to manage and tend not to have clandestine, top secret, murderous pasts.”

  “Thanks so much for that,” I say sarcastically. “No really, that’s so very helpful.”

  “Aww, you always were way too serious.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

  “Let’s just say I go with the flow much more often than you do, and I am happier for it.”

  “Touché, my love.”

  Sophia leans over and kisses my temple. “Go home, Ivy girl. It’s time you face this nonsense straight on.”

  “I will,” I smile. “After lunch.”

  Sophia takes me out in Hollywood to one of her ‘hotspots’. It’s really just another restaurant with overpriced, mediocre food, outdoor seating and a lot of paparazzi hanging about. When I went to Caltech, I rarely came into this area unless I was visiting Sophia.

  This world is not for me.

  I eat my twenty-five-dollar salad that was little more than grass clippings on a plate with goat cheese, and as we’re rounding the corner, heading back to her car, I slam into a tall, hard body that knocks me to the ground on my bum with a heavy oomph.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” someone says, and as I lift my head to see who it is, my mouth drops open and I freeze on the ground in the middle of the sidewalk.

  “Ivy?” he asks, just as shocked as I am and if this were any other ex from my past, I’d get up, give them a hug and a hello. But it’s not just any ex, it’s Jason, my stalker.

  I’m too stunned, and frankly a little scared, to respond.

  Sophia hoists me back up, because apparently my legs refuse to work as well. “Keep on moving, Jason,” Sophia says with a warning.

  “Relax, Sophia,” he puffs out slightly aggravated, but his green eyes soften as they turn back to me. “I’m sorry, Ivy. I didn’t mean to knock you down. I wasn’t watching where I was going.” He reaches a hand out like he’s about to touch me, but thinks better of it and it drops to his side. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I manage. “I didn’t see you there either.”

  A smirk twists his lips as his eyes dance all over my face and body.

  “It’s been a long time,” he says in that way of his that once upon a time I found
so charming. “You look as beautiful as ever. Are you practicing?”

  I can feel Sophia’s eyes on me and in truth, it has been a long time, but yet I’m still on edge around him. I wonder if restraining orders count in another state? I doubt it highly.

  “I am,” is all I offer. “You?” I ask, continuing the pleasantry for some unknown reason, though I’m edgy and desperate to go.

  “Yup. Orthopedics here in L.A.”

  “That’s great, Jason. I’m happy for you,” I offer a small smile that he feasts on. “Sophia and I should get going.”

  When I look at him, all I can visualize are the scenes he made in the hospital and in public so long ago. I picture the paramedics’ pitying expressions as they hoisted me out of my car after he ran me off the road. I see everything that I’ve been trying to stay away from all these years.

  Sophia and I attempt to maneuver around him, but he intercepts us by grabbing my arm. Instantly I yank it away, alarm bells going off inside my head as my heart races to a punishing rhythm.

  He holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m sorry. I just meant to stop you. I won’t touch you.” He’s eyeing me now like I’m a caged animal and I don’t like or appreciate it. “I want to apologize to you, Ivy. For everything.” The sincerity in his voice doesn’t do much to soften me, but I do stop to listen, because I feel like I need this.

  The way things ended between us was so very bad. Restraining orders, a car accident, and me spending the night in the hospital with a concussion.

  “I, um . . .” He shifts his weight, looking down quickly before meeting my eyes again. “I was in a bad way when we were in school. The stress of everything was getting to me and I just felt out of control and overwhelmed by the pressure to perform at a perfect level. I’m sorry for how far things went. I never meant to hurt you. I loved you and I was hurt you didn’t feel the same. I’m sorry.”

  I don’t know what to say to that except, “Thank you.”

  “Are you still up in Seattle?” he asks, far too hopeful for my liking. Jason may have been in a bad place, but no apology or excuse can change what he did.

  The fear and distrust he instilled in me has lasted far longer than our relationship did.

  “Do you really think she’s going to tell you that?” Sophia asks with an incredulous note. “I think you should keep going, Jason. You said what you had to say and now it’s done.”

  Jason’s expression falls like Sophia just knocked all the wind out of his sails.

  Finally, he nods, but looks forlorn as his eyes sweep over me with such longing that I know if I stand here with him any longer, things could turn in a bad direction.

  “Take care of yourself,” I say.

  “You too,” he says with a sad smile before grabbing me quickly and pulling me in for a hug that stuns me paralyzed.

  My heart jacks up instantly. My memory is assaulted with all that he’s capable of. His mouth comes down to whisper in my ear and I can feel Sophia trying to pry him off of me, but Jason is large and strong and she’s no match.

  “I’ve missed you,” he mutters, sending the most nauseating, stomach turning, chills throughout my body. “Still to this day I regret everything I did to mess it up with you, and wish we could go back. I’ll be in touch.”

  I push him off, prying myself free of his grasp and then move past him quickly, practically at a sprint. Why didn’t I knee him in the bollocks? Why didn’t I smack him across the face? Dammit!

  Sophia is hot on my heels and as we approach her car, I yell over my shoulder, “Unlock it.”

  She does with a loud double beep and I catapult myself into her Mercedes SUV, slamming the door with ferocity behind me. My breaths are coming out in strong, hard pants, and I feel like I can’t get enough air.

  I can’t get enough air.

  “Breathe, Ivy,” Sophia sooths, rubbing my back. “You’re hyperventilating.” I can hear the worry in her voice but I can’t slow my response. “You’re safe. He’s gone and he won’t hurt you again.”

  “Dammit,” I half yell, once I manage control of myself. “Five bloody minutes and I’m reduced to a weak cowering thing.” I’m so angry with myself right now. So furious at my reaction to him. Why didn’t I push him away sooner? Why didn’t I get up and keep walking?

  Dammit!

  “Ivy, stop this,” Sophia says as she pulls into traffic heading for the airport. “You’ll probably never see him again. That was a fluke thing. Go home. Return to your life.”

  She’s right. I’ll go home and back to my life and the things I know.

  But no matter how hard I try to shake it, Jason completely rattled me.

  Chapter 34

  Luke

  By the time I reach my building, I have a headache everywhere. I didn’t get out of my coding fest with Ryan until well after six, and I haven’t had much to eat or drink since early this morning. It was just one of those days.

  That and I sat up all night outside on freaking stairs across from Ivy’s building, again.

  I really need to quit doing that.

  Hopefully now that Ivy agreed to a date I will.

  That thought makes me smile as I punch in the code for the back door that will lead me to my apartment. The stairwell is well lit, which is the only way I am able to distinguish the female form slumped against my door at the top of the stairs. Her face is obscured, having found one of the few shadows in here, but I’d know her anywhere.

  “Ivy?” I call out, but she doesn’t move and she doesn’t respond. “Ivy?” I try again a little louder, but still no movement and now my heart is racing as I take the stairs two at a time.

  Is she hurt? Is she sick? What is she doing here?

  It takes me less than two seconds to reach her, but it feels like two seconds too long.

  My panic recedes marginally as I jostle her shoulders and she stirs with a groan. Her crystalline gray-blue eyes blink open, but the fatigue in them is evident and they quickly close again, as her lips curve up into a grin.

  “What are you doing here?” I whisper.

  “My flight landed and I didn’t want to go home,” she says in that raspy, sleepy cadence of hers that drives me wild.

  “You okay, honey?” I touch her cheek, looking her over in case I’m missing something.

  She nods, but doesn’t verbally respond and something about that feels off.

  “Do you want to come in, or continue sleeping in the hall?”

  She giggles a little and points to my door, but instead of allowing her to stand, I scoop up her slender body into my arms, pulling her against me where she belongs.

  “I’m not a child, Luke, I can walk.”

  “But you’re tired and I like carrying you.”

  She doesn’t protest further, just sinks into me, resting her head against my chest over my heart.

  “Your heart is racing,” she whispers almost to herself.

  “I wasn’t expecting to find you passed out on my front step.”

  “Oh. Sorry.”

  I kiss the top of her head. “It’s fine, baby. Just gave me a start, is all. How come you didn’t want to go home? Not that I’m complaining or anything.”

  “I just didn’t.”

  I hate that answer. It’s way too vague for someone who’s normally very direct.

  “Are you hungry? Do you want me to fix you some supper or just tuck you into bed?”

  “Bed.”

  “Guest room or mine?”

  “Yours,” she says and I’m smiling like an idiot. “Wipe that smile off your face, Lucas. I’m going to sleep. You’re not getting lucky.”

  “Ivy, baby, anytime you’re in my bed, I’m lucky. Even if you’re just sleeping.”

  “Luke Walker, my own personal sweet talker,” she snorts out a laugh. “Ha, that rhymes.”

  I set her down on the edge of my bed before walking over to my dresser and grabbing a pair of boxer shorts and a t-shirt, both of which will be way too big on her.

  “Here,�
� I say, handing her the clothes. “I’ll go get you a glass of water. Do you need anything else?”

  She’s sitting on the edge of my bed, staring at the clothes in her hands so I stand there, waiting, because something is clearly not right.

  “I know your past. I know all of the ugly that ran it for so long, but how did you become you from that?” Her eyes make the journey up toward mine and my breath hitches. They’re filled with anguish. “How did you end up not hurting or stalking or threatening women?”

  The hairs on the nape of my neck stand on end, and I take a small step to her, desperate to grab hold of her and get to the bottom of her words. But I don’t do that, and after a moment of deliberation, I answer her with sarcasm.

  “I do stalk you. As frequently as this morning, remember?”

  She nods once, her gorgeous face fixed on mine. “And for some unexplained reason that never once frightened me. Yet you have this horribly violent past that could have so easily shaped your character in a different way. And then there are men who come from everything. Normal families, money, opportunity and somehow manage to become something dark.”

  “Ivy, what are you talking about? What happened?”

  She shakes her head and I know she’s not going to tell me, and that has my blood running cold. I have half a mind to call Sophia, but I know that will piss Ivy off and we’re already on thin ice as it is.

  “I just want to go to bed here. Is that okay?” Her voice is despondent. Isolated. It makes me want to tear the world to shreds, eliminating anything that could possibly hurt her.

  “Of course. You can stay forever.” That gets a half-hearted grin as she stands up, clothes in hand and walks toward my washroom without further comment.

  By the time I return with her glass of water, she’s in bed with the lights out. I don’t say anything as I place the glass on the nightstand and kiss her forehead. She doesn’t either, but I know she’s still awake based on the modulation of her breathing.

  Her silence might be the most disconcerting thing of all.

  I make myself something to eat, though I hardly touch it, and spend my evening bouncing back and forth between doing work in my office and checking on a sleeping Ivy. I can’t stop myself from studying her. Watching her sleep in my bed, in my home, and wondering what scared her enough to make her show up on my doorstep.