Kiss Me Now

by Wylder, Penny

  He doesn’t look so confident today, though. He’s slumped against my door, and his hair is a tousled mess. Even before he turns to face me, I already guess his face will look gaunt, drawn with stress.

  Lark.

  It’s only been a few days since I last saw him, yet it had already started to feel like a lifetime. As if my time with him were a dream, pleasant and all-consuming when I was in the middle of it, but painful as hell to wake up from. It made the real world stark and gray by contrast.

  As I start up my steps toward him, a welcome counter-emotion floods in. Anger. He has no right to keep showing up like this. We made it clear the last time we spoke. Things were over between us. I thought he was finally respecting me, giving me the space I needed to get over him. But now…

  The anger, however, is short-lived. It falters the moment he hears my foot on the steps behind him and turns to look at me.

  God. I knew he looked dejected, but seeing his face… His eyes are red, lined in deep purple bruises, like he hasn’t slept since I saw him last. He’s still handsome, of course. Handsome enough that I want to shove him for it, back up against the door he’s leaning against, and then grab his lapels and pull his face down to—No. I stop myself right there.

  Handsome or not, sad or not, he still lied to me.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask. My voice comes out harder than I intended, but I don’t apologize for it. He’s over the line right now.

  “I’m sorry,” he says, immediately. “I know I shouldn’t be here. But I tried calling. I didn’t get an answer.”

  I think about my phone, shut off for the duration of my lunch with Mom. I didn’t turn it back on afterward. I was still buzzing from finally standing up to her. That, and I didn’t want to see if she called me afterward, to leave me guilt-tripping voicemails about how I’d just acted.

  “You can’t just show up like this,” I say, shaking my head. “We talked about this. About how I need space now.”

  “I know, but.” He takes a step toward me, hands outstretched, and for a moment, I catch his scent, the familiar, heady musk that always makes me want to close my eyes and sink into his arms. To let myself go, to feel safe in his embrace—even if that safety’s a lie. “I can’t stop thinking about you, Cassidy,” he says.

  My stomach tightens. That makes two of us.

  “I just… I know I messed up. I should have told you everything, from the beginning, and let you decide whether you wanted to get mixed up in my damn drama. I realize that now. Keeping this from you was wrong. Which is why…” His throat bobs with a tight swallow. But he holds my gaze. The whole time he’s saying this, those green eyes of his never leave mine. “I want to tell you everything now. The full truth.”

  I bite my lower lip. Glance away, toward my front door, hesitant. This is pretty much the opposite of what I promised to do in therapy—to set boundaries and hold them firm. I told him we were over. To let him in now would be…

  As if reading my mind, Lark lifts both hands, palms extended toward me. They hover in the air between us. Even his hands seem nervous, trembling a little, the nails bitten down to the quick. “No strings attached,” he says. “You don’t have to take me back or give me another chance or anything. But even if we never see each other again, you deserve to know the truth.”

  That, at least, I can agree with. I press my lips together, still internally debating. But searching his gaze, curiosity rises inside me, overwhelming the part of me that says it would be safer to tell him to leave. “Fine,” I say, eventually, and his shoulders sag, relief blooming across his face. I hold up one finger, though, to stop it. “But you’re right. No strings are attached. This doesn’t mean I’m giving you a second chance or anything. You do owe me the truth, though.”

  He nods, all too eager to agree. “Whatever you want, Cassidy.”

  What I want is to go back in time, I think bitterly. What I want is for him to have opened up to me from the start. But since I don’t have a time machine, I step around him to unlock my front door.

  Inside, I take a seat on the couch. I don’t offer him a drink, or even water. He doesn’t seem to expect it, at least. And unlike last time, when he sat so close to me that I could hardly breathe, he takes a seat at the far end of the couch, perched on the edge of it, his whole body still tense, like he’s ready to jump up and leave any moment that I order him to.

  “First of all, I just want to apologize, again,” he starts. “It… I know my life is a mess. And I don’t blame you for not wanting to get involved in it. Honestly, that’s the smart reaction.” He squeezes his eyes shut for a breath.

  I hold mine. I’m not giving him anything. No sympathy. Because he’s right. It is smarter of me to stay detached.

  When he opens his eyes again, they find mine. Lock on. “Sheryl and I are getting a divorce. We filed for it a year ago. Well, actually, I filed for it. She contested… it’s been a whole back and forth.”

  I press my lips together, waiting. I knew this much, at least.

  “But… well. Due to some bad decisions on my part, the contract of our company, Anderson Investments, it’s…” He clears his throat. “We set the whole thing up in Sheryl’s name when we first founded it. She talked me into it; I wanted to make us 50/50 partners, but she convinced me it would be simpler to keep it all under her. She was the finance person, after all; I was the one who worked with our clients face-to-face, and more on the marketing and business-building side. I don’t…” He bites his lower lip. “My only explanation is that I trusted her, back then. I mean, she was my wife. I thought…” He shakes his head.

  My chest tightens. I take another breath, unaware I’d been holding mine.

  “Anyway, long story short, she has complete control over what happens to the company. And we’ve spent years working on it, I… I poured everything I had into this business. When things between us soured, when I started feeling unfulfilled and unhappy in my marriage, I dealt with it by working harder, putting all my hopes and dreams into the company. It’s my baby, really.” He laughs, a little bit bitterly. “And now, well… That’s her leverage, I guess.” He blows out a long sigh. “Sheryl knows how deeply I’m invested. She couldn’t care less about how the business does, whether it thrives or not—as long as she can skim her usual cut off the top of the profits and sustain her lifestyle.”

  I wince, and glance across the room, at where my stacks of makeup supplies sit. I know how that feels. To pour your heart and soul into a company. One that may or may not succeed. I spent so much time struggling on my own company, after all. And it was only with Lark’s help that I was able to break out.

  “I like helping people,” Lark says, as if reading my mind. “I like being that angel investor who can swoop in and make dreams come true for people like you. Smart people with great business ideas who just need that first leg up to make it in the world.” He smiles, for the first time since he stepped inside.

  Too late, I realize I’m smiling too. My mouth answering his without my permission. With effort, I wipe the smile off my face and stare at him, waiting for him to go on.

  “Anyway, at first, Sheryl said she’d change the company structure. She’d let me buy out her shares and take over the company as the sole investor. She’d have enough money to start something new, and I’d have what I want: the whole company to myself, to run how I want. But her stipulation was a year of marriage counseling first. She told me, she promised that if I went to counseling for one year, she’d change the business structure, even if I still wanted a divorce afterward. I guess she thought we could work things out, I don’t know… But counseling only made it clearer than ever that we don’t belong together. She spends every session beating me up, and even when the counselor asks her to confront her own issues, to look at places where she may have contributed to our relationship breaking down, she refuses. Just twists everything back on me.”

  I sigh, thinking about my mother earlier. And about Norman. I know how that feels. “So that�
�s why you’re still married,” I murmur. “To try to save your business.” The realization washes over me slowly. All this time, I thought I was the one being taken advantage of—that I was just some side fling for Lark, while he worked on his marriage in therapy. When really, he’s been trapped. The same way I was once trapped with Norman. Being manipulated, made to feel like I could never get free, never survive on my own…

  He leans toward me, eyes bright. “Yes. That’s the only reason, Cassidy. But I realized something, when you and I split up, and when Sheryl started in on me…” He bites his lower lip for a moment, keeping his gaze fixed on mine. “She’s never going to give it up. She’s just going to keep moving the goal posts, to keep me attached to her by any means necessary.”

  “That’s terrible,” I murmur. I know what it feels like to be controlled like that. To have someone dangle your wants and needs over your head to make you dance on their strings.

  “Yes.” And then, to my confusion, Lark smiles. I blink, thrown, but he shuffles closer to me across the couch, his expression more intense than ever. I couldn’t look away if I wanted to. “But then you came along, Cassidy, and you made me see…” His eyes jump back and forth, searching mine. “You made me realize, I don’t need the company. I don’t need the security I built. I created that once; I can do it again. The way you did with your makeup—you didn’t have the funding you needed, you didn’t have the security when you set out to do what you loved, but you made it anyway. So can I.”

  I swallow hard. “What… what do you mean?”

  He catches my hands, and I let him. His hands are warm and solid around mine, and when he folds them against his chest, my heart jumps at the same rhythm as his. Erratic and jagged. “I’m going to tell Sheryl to keep the company,” he says. “You inspired me.”

  My lips part. “But…” I can’t ask him to walk away from his dream. Not for me. It would make me just as bad as Sheryl. “But you can’t do that for me,” I start. “No one should give up on what they love for someone else, even someone they care about—”

  He shakes his head, cutting me off. “It’s not for you, Cassidy. Although you’re the one who made me realize I could do it.” He squeezes my hands again, tight enough to hurt, but I don’t mind. I realize I’m squeezing his back, too. “It’s for me. I can’t let Sheryl control me anymore. I need to be free of her, so if the only way to do that now is to walk away from Anderson Investments, then that’s what I’ll do.”

  “Are you sure?” I breathe. I don’t know when he moved, but he’s closer to me than ever now. Sitting just inches apart on this couch—the couch he bought me, what feels like a lifetime ago now. His leg brushes mine, and it sends sparks through my whole body. I remember the last time we sat like this, side by side. The way he pulled me onto his lap, spilling makeup everywhere.

  Heat surges through me. I want him to do it again. Even though I promised myself I wouldn’t.

  But I didn’t know the full story then. I didn’t realize he was in the same position I used to be in myself. And I know what it feels like—the fear, the uncertainty, the how can I do this on my own dread.

  Lark reaches up to tuck a long strand of my hair behind my ear. His fingertips brush the curve of my ear, making me shiver. “I’ve never been surer of anything in my life,” he murmurs. And suddenly, I don’t think he just means his marriage or his business.

  My eyes jump back and forth between his. It feels like the air between us is filled with sparks, heavy and electric. I tilt toward him, slowly, all too aware that he’s doing the same thing, mirroring me.

  “Lark, I…”

  He stops at the sound of my voice. Takes a deep breath, like he’s trying to remember his place. His promise to leave me alone. He starts to pull away, but I reach up to catch his shirt in one fist, stopping him. He freezes in place, his eyes going wide.

  “Thank you,” I say. “For telling me.”

  His throat bobs with a tight swallow. “Like I said,” he replies softly, “you deserved the truth.”

  I nod slowly. “And so do you.” I lean back a little, releasing his shirt. Just far enough to get some air. Although neither of us shift apart on the couch, our legs still pressed together, as I look away. “I know how you feel,” I tell him, my gaze focused on my living room table now. “I’ve… been in a similar situation, before. It’s hard to get free from that, when you’ve been manipulated by someone you loved and trusted.”

  Lark’s hand comes to rest on my thigh, searing heat through my jeans. “I’m sorry, Cassidy. I didn’t know that you…”

  “My ex.” I shut my eyes, which are suddenly stinging. Then I laugh, a little bitterly. “Well. Not just him. My mother did it too, before him.” When I open my eyes again, I feel hot all over. Fierce, suddenly. “But you’re right. I made it on my own. And you can, too, Lark. We can get free together.”

  I spin around to face him, and before I can think about what I’m doing, I swing one leg over his. Shift until I’m kneeling over his lap, my hands cradling his face between them, gazing down into those familiar, deep green eyes.

  “You can do this,” I tell him, and I’m talking to him, but also to myself. To the past me who fought her way free from Norman. To the me who just told my mother off earlier today. And then, I lean down and press my lips to his.

  26

  Lark

  For a moment, all I can see, hear, smell, think about is Cassidy. Her soft lips against mine, which part in a sigh as I pull her further down over me, my hands tight around her soft curves, sliding up her back to trace her shoulders, then back down, down, until they land of their own accord on her firm ass.

  She moans a little, a soft breathy sound, the one that always drives me over the edge when we’re in bed together. I love hearing her make those noises, knowing I’m the reason she can’t help herself. That I’m making her forget about everything but the heat between us.

  I part her lips with my tongue, and she inhales sharply. I pull her body flush to mine, her soft curves practically melting into my pecs, my abs. I kiss her harder, claim that perfect, pert little mouth of hers, and revel in the feel of her wriggling against me. She arcs her hips, presses them down over mine, and now it’s my turn to groan, faintly, in the back of my throat, because fuck. She’s wearing jeans, but even through them, the feel of her hipbones hitting mine, her mound pressing down right over my rock hard shaft, drives me wild.

  All I want to do is flip her over right here and tear off every layer of clothing she’s wearing.

  But I hold myself back. Take my time. Because another part of me, a stronger part, wants to savor this. I finally have Cassidy where I want her; where I’ve been dreaming about having her for weeks. Hell, ever since the first night I touched her, if I’m being honest. She’s a drug, and I don’t give a damn what I have to do to get more of her, I will.

  She draws back from our kiss, just far enough to gasp for breath. I take advantage and trail my lips along her jaw, down the side of her neck. She lets out another of her faint little sounds, almost a mewl this time, and I grin against her pulse point, tracing my tongue over her soft, smooth skin for a moment. “You like that?” I whisper, knowing my breath will feel hot where I just licked her.

  “Mm, can’t you tell?” she replies, and of course I can, because she’s already breathless, and with my arms around her and her body pressed to mine, I can feel every twitch and tremble in her limbs, every inhale she takes and every shiver that passes through her.

  I bend to nip at her neck, gently, right where my lips had been a moment ago. There’s that shiver again, more violent this time, her arms tightening their grip around my neck. “I had some idea you might, yes,” I reply, grinning, and she laughs.

  “Damn it, Lark.”

  When I look up again, she’s gazing at me with new emotion in her big brown eyes. “What is it?” I reach up to tuck a stray strand of hair, newly fallen across her face, behind her ear. She shivers again. But whereas before, she’d normally pull
away from me now, put up a wall between us, now… She stays.

  “I thought the right thing to do would be to stay away from you,” she finally admits, her voice low with feeling. “I thought I needed to learn how to… to be on my own, and to walk away from messy situations. But now…”

  I raise an eyebrow. “You’re elbow-deep in my mess, is that what you’re saying?”

  She laughs again. “That’s not exactly how I’d phrase it.” She leans in to kiss my cheek. I can feel the graze of those soft lips against the 5’o-clock shadow that’s on my cheeks. Then she shifts. Kisses my lips, feather-light. It’s too quick for me to catch her and deepen it. She’s there and then gone, sitting back to look into my eyes again, and I want to have this conversation, I do, but God, fuck she’s still sitting with those hips against mine and her thighs draped around mine, and another part of me just wants to reach down and push those stupid jeans of hers off.

  Her cheeks turn a delicate shade of pink, as if she guesses what I’m thinking. But she doesn’t move, either. “I just mean… I’m sorry.”

  I blink, taken aback. “What for? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “Well. Maybe.” She shakes her head. Worries at her lower lip, in a way that makes me jealous. I want to be the one biting her lip right now, damn it. “I could’ve heard you out sooner, though. Demanded the full story.”

  “You did,” I point out. “I wasn’t ready to tell it yet.”

  “Yeah, but…” She sighs. “I just, this could have been easier if we’d both opened up to one another fully from the start.”

  “True.” I tilt my head. Slide one hand up her back to brace against her spine, right between her shoulder blades. I can feel the steady pulse of her heartbeat against my fingertips, like a drum. Steadying me. Fortifying us both. “But we’re doing that now,” I say. “We might have gone through some difficult things, but… it’s so worth it. To have you here now, to be totally open with each other.”