by Noelle Adams
She’d meant what she said.
Lucas had really lost her—even the small pieces of her he’d had up until this point.
She was just… gone.
Taken from his life the way anything good could be taken, at any moment, without any warning.
“Hey,” a voice came from behind him. “Hey, are you all right?”
Steve. He’d come into the kitchen at some point. Lucas had no idea when. He looked at Steve blankly.
“Shit,” Steve muttered. “I know it sucks, but it’s your own fault. What do you expect her to do?”
This.
Lucas expected her to do exactly this.
Steve made a face. “Okay. Well, let’s not just sit around here all night. Let’s go out, and I’ll buy you a drink.” He clapped Lucas on the shoulder. “Or maybe three.”
Three sounded better than one.
However many drinks it would take to dull the endless ache he was feeling, to fill this emptiness that was tearing him apart.
That was how many drinks he needed.
DESPITE WHAT SHE’D told Lucas, Jill didn’t end up having sex with Hal that night.
She wanted to. She really wanted to want Hal that way, want any man other than Lucas.
But she didn’t.
It wouldn’t have been fair to Hal for her to use him that way, and it wouldn’t have been good to herself to do something she didn’t want just to prove that she could.
So she had dinner with Hal and said good night at the restaurant, walking the half block back by herself a little after eleven that evening.
She wondered what Lucas was doing.
She hoped he was okay.
He’d looked really hurt—dazed—by what she’d said to him earlier. Even if it had been true and necessary, she wished she’d been nicer about it.
She hadn’t wanted to hurt him.
He’d been hurt enough in the past. He’d been hurt so badly.
She was confused by what she saw when she approached the apartment.
Steve’s car was right out front in the loading zone, and he and Michelle were both standing on the sidewalk, staring in at the open door to the back seat.
“What’s the matter?” Jill asked, speeding up as she grew closer. “What’s going on?”
“Oh. Jill.” Michelle gave her a flustered smile as she approached but then turned back to stare into the back seat of the car.
Jill was close enough now to see.
“Oh God!” she gasped. “Is he okay?”
Lucas was stretched out on the back seat of the car, face down and half hanging off the edge of the seat.
“He’s drunk off his ass,” Michelle whispered. “He can’t even walk.”
“I… can… too… walk,” Lucas announced from the car. “I’m getting… up. Now.” He didn’t move.
“What happened?” Jill asked, hugging her arms to her chest and looking from Steve to Michelle. “How did he get this way?”
“We went to a bar,” Steve explained. “He was… upset… about things. So I took him out. He kept drinking. I guess I should have stopped him, but he’s always been able to handle his liquor. I don’t know what happened. Damn, what a mess.”
Jill’s mind and heart were whirling. She’d never seen Lucas look so helpless, so completely out of it. She was terrified that she had somehow done it to him. “Do you think he’s okay? I mean, we don’t need to take him to the emergency room or someth—”
“I think he just needs to sleep it off,” Steve said. “I need to get him upstairs.” He reached into the back seat and tugged on Lucas’s shirt. “Make an effort here, man. You’re embarrassing yourself, and you’re going to hate it tomorrow morning.”
It was a bit of a process, but Lucas finally managed to stumble out of the car. He couldn’t stand up straight, so Steve supported him on one side.
Then suddenly it seemed to register with Lucas that Jill was standing on the sidewalk next to Michelle.
He made a hissing sound. “Why aren’t you out there…” He flailed one arm wildly. “Why aren’t you out there fucking your… forever man?”
Jill’s face contorted briefly with emotion.
This was about her after all.
“Shut the hell up and start walking,” Steve told him. “We’ve got to get up the stairs.”
Lucas was so out of it that Steve could barely keep him up, and Jill couldn’t stand to see him looking so pitiful. So she hurried over and supported Lucas from the other side, and that made it easier for him to move forward.
Lucas leaned on her heavily, smelling strongly of whiskey. “What about your… forever man?” he kept asking as they slowly made their way up the stairs.
At one point, they had to stop because Lucas started to gag. He didn’t throw up anything. Just made the choking sounds. It was awful. He was never like this.
Never so helpless, so out of control.
Eventually he was able to start moving again, and they finally reached the landing to their apartment.
Michelle opened the door, and they got Lucas inside, through the living room, and into his room where they could finally let him drop onto the small bed.
Lucas lay where he landed, breathing harshly with his eyes open.
He looked so uncomfortable that Jill reached down to try to reposition him, lifting the arm that was hanging over the side up onto the mattress.
Lucas grabbed her forearm. “Jill. Jill.”
“What?” she asked.
“Where is… where is…”
He was still trying to ask about Hal.
There was no other explanation than that he’d fallen into this drunken mess because she’d gone out with Hal, because she’d told him she was going to sleep with him, because she’d told him she was moving on from him for good.
She couldn’t believe he had reacted this way, that he’d gone to these lengths in response.
Steve had said he’d been upset.
He must have been really upset.
He hadn’t even wanted her. Not in any real way. He’d just wanted to have sex with her.
Why would he have done this?
Practically in tears now, Jill tried to pull her arm away, but Lucas wouldn’t give it up. He was holding on to it with a surprising amount of strength. He wasn’t squeezing it. Just holding it.
She tried again. “Lucas, honey, let go.” She tried prying off his fingers, but they wouldn’t budge.
“Don’t leave,” Lucas mumbled. “Don’t leave me.”
Steve had gone to get a bottle of water and set it next to the bed, but now he saw what Jill was doing.
“Hey,” he said sharply, leaning down to give Lucas a punch on the shoulder. “Let go of her. Let go.”
Lucas grunted at the punch but didn’t let go.
Steve reached for his hand, clearly intending to pry off his grip the way Jill had been trying to earlier but much less gentle than she’d been.
“Don’t hurt him,” Jill said, worried and bewildered and protective. Tears were streaming freely down her cheeks now.
“But he’s hurting you.”
“He’s not hurting me. He’s just holding on. It’s not tight. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s just holding on.” She adjusted so she was lying on the bed with him, turned on her side so Lucas could keep his grip on her forearm. He wasn’t squeezing. She wasn’t going to be bruised. He couldn’t seem to relax his fingers. “It’s fine. I’ll just wait until he lets go.”
“Are you sure?” Michelle asked. “Are you all right?”
“I’m all right. I want to… I want to stay here. He’ll let go soon.” Lucas had pulled her forearm toward him now, almost hugging it to his chest.
“Okay,” Steven said, sounding a little dubious. “If he pukes all over you, don’t blame me.”
“He’s not going to puke. He’s not just drunk. He’s… sad.”
She knew as she said the final word that it was the true one.
Lucas wasn’t just bri
stling and jealous. He wasn’t just being a childish jackass.
He was sad.
He was broken.
And she didn’t want him to be alone.
“Just call out if you need anything or if you need him to let go,” Steve said, giving her a careful look as if to verify that she was really all right.
“I will,” she told him. “I’m fine. I want to stay here with him.”
“Okay. We’ll be right across the hall,” Michelle said as she and Steve started to leave.
Jill kicked off her shoes and adjusted to get a little more comfortable. The only way she could lie was on her side, facing Lucas, who was still clinging to her forearm like it was the only thing keeping him from drowning.
“Jill,” he mumbled after another minute.
“I’m here.”
“What about… your forever man?”
She let out a long sigh. “I found him. But he didn’t want me forever.”
Lucas didn’t reply. She was pretty sure he hadn’t followed what she’d said, and it was just as well.
She’d really expected him to release her arm after a few minutes. But he didn’t.
Even after he appeared to fall asleep, he was still holding on to her.
Nine
SOMETIME DURING THE night, Lucas had a brief flicker of consciousness. He knew that his head hurt and his mouth tasted like garbage and that every muscle in his body ached.
He also knew something else.
He knew Jill was in bed with him.
He couldn’t see her, but he could feel her, smell her. He reached out and pulled her closer to him, wrapping both his arms around her little body.
He heard her give a soft, pretty moan as she snuggled against his chest. She was sleeping and clinging to him at the same time.
Letting out a slow breath, he relaxed again, holding her against him tightly.
It didn’t matter that he felt terrible in almost every way.
Because Jill was here. He could touch her, hold her.
She hadn’t slipped away yet.
WHEN LUCAS WOKE UP for real, it was with the certain knowledge that he’d been a fool.
More than a fool. An embarrassing, immature, vulnerable fool.
A fool in front of his friends.
A fool in front of Jill.
He didn’t even remember every detail, but he knew for sure that he’d blown it. Big time.
He didn’t even want to open his eyes.
If he did, the sun would be up. The morning would have come. And he’d have to face up to what had happened last night.
He didn’t want to do it.
Jill was still with him in bed. They’d moved during the night, and he wasn’t on his side anymore, holding her against his front. She’d rolled over, and he’d rolled with her, so now he was half spooning her from behind and half lying on top of her.
He was still wearing the jeans and T-shirt he’d had on last night, and he was uncomfortably hard in his pants, his erection pressed up against the zipper. His brain pounded against his skull, and he needed to pee so badly he was in serious danger of losing it.
That was the thought that prompted him to finally open his eyes, roll away from Jill’s small, sleeping body, and heave himself painfully out of bed.
The apartment was quiet as he walked across the hall to the bathroom.
After he’d gone, he splashed water on his face and returned the bedroom, where he shucked his jeans and T-shirt and dropped them onto the floor. In just his underwear, he returned to the bed and found the bottle of water on the box he was using as a nightstand.
He sat on the edge of the bed and drank down most of the bottle in several large gulps.
Jill was still sleeping, curled up on her side. Her hair was loose and falling into her face. She wore the sexy little dress she’d worn for her date with Hal the night before. She still had on her high socks.
His heart lurched, like it was literally reaching toward her, trying to get to her, trying to take hold of her.
He sat like a statue on the side of the small bed, making himself breathe slowly. He finished the last swallow of water.
Then he got up, went back to the bathroom to pee yet again, and then went to the refrigerator to grab another bottle of water.
When he returned to the room this time, Jill had turned over onto her back.
As he approached the bed, her eyes opened just a slit.
He sat down, looking at her quietly.
“You okay?” she asked hoarsely.
He opened his mouth to tell her he was fine.
Instead, he heard himself saying, “I don’t know.”
She lifted one hand, extending it toward him. He took it instinctively, automatically, letting her pull him back down onto the bed. He adjusted their bodies so she was pressed into his side, one of his arms holding her close.
“What happened last night,” Jill asked after a few minutes. He’d thought maybe she’d gone back to sleep, but she hadn’t.
“I… don’t even know.”
“Do you remember anything?”
“Yeah. Enough. Too much.” He swallowed hard. “God, what a fool I am.”
She didn’t object to that sentiment. She must have known it was true as much as he did.
He couldn’t help but stroke her hair with his free hand. It was soft and messy and draping over her face and shoulder. She sighed against him, as if she liked how it felt.
“I thought…” she began after another minute or two. “I thought you didn’t want… you didn’t want anything from me. But sex.” Her words were stilted, and he could tell she was uncomfortable saying them.
She’d always been honest. Far more honest than he’d ever been.
“That’s all I was supposed to want,” he managed to say.
She lifted her head slightly so she could meet his eyes. “So you want… more?”
He heard the slight note of hope in her voice, and it wounded him.
It wounded him.
She wanted him still—no matter how much of a fool he’d always been.
There was no way in the world he deserved her.
“Yes,” he admitted since she was waiting for his answer. “Of course I do. But I don’t know…”
He didn’t finish because there was too much lurking in the remainder of that sentence.
He didn’t know if he could offer her more.
He didn’t know if he was capable of more.
He didn’t know if his scars had healed enough.
He didn’t know if he would ever be able to follow through on what he wanted again.
“Tell me what you don’t know, Lucas,” Jill said, her voice so incredibly gentle.
He took a shaky breath. “I don’t know if I’m… me anymore.”
He hadn’t meant to say that. He didn’t even know what it meant. He’d broken out in a cold sweat, and he was staring up at the ceiling blindly.
Jill pulled out of his arm, turning over as she sat up so she was leaning over him. Her blond hair slid forward over her shoulders, and the neckline of her dress drooped, exposing a pretty pink lace bra and her lovely rounded breasts.
Lucas’s body sprang to attention, but his mind and heart were too full to pay much attention to it at the moment. He was waiting to hear what she would say.
“Of course you’re you,” she murmured thickly, stroking his chest with one hand. “Lucas, why wouldn’t you be you?”
He couldn’t look away from her eyes. “Because I’ve spent all this time trying to be someone different, someone… stronger, safer. I’ve spent so much time trying to leave the man I was behind.”
“Why, Lucas? What was so wrong with the man you used to be.”
“He… got hurt.” The words were forced out of his throat in a harsh rasp.
“Everyone gets hurt. It doesn’t mean you can’t still be you. Can’t you… can’t you show me the man you were before? I want to know him too. I want to be with him too.”
; His breath was coming out in ragged pants now, and he was sweating even more than he’d been before. There was a throbbing in his head that completely overwhelmed his headache. It was a throbbing he could feel against his skull and in his groin, but it was centered somewhere else.
It was centered in his heart.
He reached out for her. There was no way he could stop himself.
He pulled her over on top of him, and she came willingly.
Then he was kissing her, and her mouth was opening to his tongue, and every molecule in his body was screaming that this was right, she was his.
He was hers.
He wasn’t in fit shape to think clearly or work through the best way to please her the way he normally did. He couldn’t do anything but grope for her, hold on to her, desperately cling to her. His tongue was sliding against hers but not with any strategy or skill. His hands were moving all over her, feeling her soft flesh, lush curves, dips and edges and textures. And his erection was so hard now it was causing his whole body to pulse. He kept groaning into her mouth. Loudly. Uninhibited.
She seemed just as uncontrolled as he was. She was straddling his hips and rubbing herself against him eagerly—with her whole body. Her fingernails were gouging holes into one of his shoulders and the back of his neck from how tightly she was clutching at him. And she was making little whimpers and grunts that were driving him absolutely wild.
Before he knew what was happening, he’d dragged the dress off over her head, and she’d pulled off his underwear. One or both of them had managed to remember the condom, and she was rolling it on for him. Then he was guiding her hips over him, and she was sheathing him in the warm, wet clasp of her body.
He groaned loud and long at the sheer pleasure of it. Like a boy, like a horny teenager. She was already trying to ride him, so far gone that she was flushed red and panting out a building rhythm.
He took her hips in a firm grip and started to buck up into her.
They had no steady rhythm between them. No unified motion. Both of them were out of control, frantically clinging to the other as the sensations overwhelmed them.
“Lucas,” she was crying out. “Oh, Lucas, please. Please, please, please, please. I need… I need… you.” She kept babbling out the words as she rode him with shameless abandon.
He’d never seen anything more beautiful. More pure.
