As Long as You Love Me

by Ann Aguirre

  “I don’t need anything from in there. I just thought you could practice driving around the parking lot. It’s empty over there.”

  “Got it, boss.” Without prompting, I started the truck, and the engine only sputtered a little when I backed out, swapping from Reverse.

  We had been looping for half an hour while I practiced going from first to second when a blue Honda Civic pulled into the lot. I didn’t recognize the girl driving it, but Rob clearly did. From what I could see through her window, she was in her early twenties, shoulder-length dark hair, round face and turned up nose. I’d call her plain, but that might be a result of the scowl. After a few seconds, I placed her as someone who’d hung out with Avery in high school, though she’d put on some weight since graduation, judging by the fullness of her cheeks.

  Staring at Rob, she nearly hit us, and he shifted all the way around, clearly torn on how to handle things. Since it was a near miss, not a collision, I didn’t have to stop or give insurance information, but he signaled for me to park near the other vehicle. The girl glared until Rob hopped out, hands in his pockets, and he went to the driver’s side. He didn’t ask me to come, so I stayed where I was, but a nosy impulse made me crack my window to eavesdrop.

  “This is what you’re doing when Avery’s out of town?” she was snapping.

  “What?” He glanced over his shoulder at me with a puzzled look.

  “I can’t believe you’re hooking up with some skank behind her back.”

  Hey. This is not a skanky outfit. At most, these sweats are hoochie. They didn’t even claim that my ass was “Juicy.”

  Sadly, there was nobody to appreciate the genius of my silent retort. Besides, Rob had more class than to cruise the Walmart parking lot with his side piece, but this girl didn’t know him at all. If she did, she wouldn’t be spitting accusations like that. I half wanted to get out of the car and pull her hair, then shout at her that he’d never cheat on Avery, especially with me, but that would likely make things worse and escalate the situation to reality TV levels of awful.

  Shock must’ve paralyzed him for a few seconds. Then he said, “Lauren is my sister’s best friend. And I’m giving her driving lessons.”

  “Let me guess,” the girl purred. “You’re teaching her all about how to handle stick?”

  Rob’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t answer. She screeched off, nearly running over his feet in the process. He was pale when he came up to the window, anger written all over his face. No good deed goes unpunished. When Avery found out he was loaning me Tessa Green-tea, her head would explode. She couldn’t understand what kind of guy Rob was, or that he was thoughtful without expecting sex in return. Or maybe I was just being judgmental; for the sake of his relationship, I should probably hope I was wrong.

  “Sorry,” he said, “for getting you involved in that. It never occurred to me that anyone would take this the wrong way.”

  I found it pretty surprising, too. Avery’s friend had leaped to that conclusion so fast, I had to wonder what kinds of reports she had been getting. Were there problems I didn’t know about? Rob didn’t talk that much about his girlfriend with me...not that I wanted him to. It was painful hearing about her and then imagining them together.

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  He shook his head. “Looks like we’re cutting this short today. I have to call Avery before Jillian does.”

  I understood why he wouldn’t want to with me sitting here, listening in. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for messing things up for you.”

  “You didn’t. It’s a misunderstanding. I’ll fix it.”

  A tiny, horrible part of me hoped that he couldn’t.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The next morning, Rob delivered my bed. I was expecting him to pick me up to work on his house, not for my furniture to arrive, but I stepped back so he could bring the pieces inside. He was quiet as he disassembled my old bed frame, then he asked, “Where do you want it?”

  I could tell he was upset, but if he wanted to talk, he’d invite me into his business. So I answered, “Let’s store it in the attic for now.”

  We had one of those doors that pulled down from the ceiling. With easy physical prowess, he stowed the components and then put the new bed together. Like Rob’s, it was made of salvaged wood, platform base attached to railroad ties and a slatted headboard that gave it an intricately woven aspect. The red chestnut stain was beautiful, too. My mom was still working on the red plaid cover and curtains, so my lavender stuff looked even girlier against the rugged wood, but the bed gave the room some much-needed character. Once we repainted, it would look like a different space altogether.

  “This looks fantastic.” Inwardly I was giddy as a schoolgirl over having a bed that matched Rob’s. There was no way I wouldn’t fantasize about that.

  As he finished up, he said without looking at me, “I broke up with Avery.”

  My immediate reaction was, Yes! But I knew better than to say it out loud.

  “What happened?” I had some idea, but it would do him good to get it out. And selfishly, I wanted to hear it.

  “She said some unforgivable things.” He set the mattress in place, and with his help, I made up the bed.

  Then I sat down on it, inviting a longer conversation. It was a little weird to have Rob in my room, given how many of my fantasies he’d starred in over the years, but right now, he needed a friend. “Like what?”

  With a faint sigh, he plonked onto the foot. “She didn’t believe me when I explained that you’re helping me with the house. Or why you needed driving lessons.”

  “Didn’t she know about the house already?” The lessons had been an unexpected development, and it would be weird to call your girlfriend at work for permission.

  Rob blinked at me. “It didn’t seem like a big deal. I’ve known you forever.”

  Mentally I sighed. While he might see me as a sexless foster sister, Avery probably didn’t view our hanging out in the same light. I hated empathizing with her. Again. But this didn’t seem like the time to tell Rob he’d screwed up. Clearly he already felt bad enough.

  He continued, “It sucks that she thought I’d cheat, but—”

  “With me of all people?” His incredulity stung, reinforcing how he absolutely did not see me as a woman. “Yeah, right.”

  “No, that’s not what I mean. You’d never hook up with someone else’s boyfriend. And it pisses me off that she said you did. Especially when I’m him.”

  “Wait...so you broke up because of what she said about me?”

  His mouth tightened. “She crossed the line. I can fix a lot of things, but I can’t change a person with that kind of mind. And if she doesn’t trust me now, it’s unlikely to get better.”

  Since I didn’t want him dating Avery in the first place, I could hardly argue, but it seemed odd that he was more bothered by what she said about me than by her condemnation of his own behavior. “You’re mad about what she said about you, too, right?”

  Rob shrugged. “I’ve heard it before.”

  “What?”

  “That I’m too dumb to notice when somebody’s hitting on me. Mind you, I don’t enjoy being accused of shit I didn’t do.” But he seemed more resigned than angry; his outrage was reserved for me, apparently.

  “And wouldn’t. You’re positive I’d never go after a guy who’s taken, but I know you, Rob. You’d never cheat on your girlfriend, either.” I paused, wondering if it was too soon to ask. But what the hell. If they got back together, at least I’d know the answer. “What did you like most about her?” It couldn’t be as simple as her looks.

  He sighed softly. “She said I had potential.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Avery was always saying I could make something of myself if I tried. Nobody else ever thought that, not even whe
n I was a kid. My parents talked about Nadia going to college from the time she was eight years old, but with me, it was always, ‘Rob’s got a good heart. Rob gets along so well with people.’ My aunt’s always mumbling, ‘At least he’s handsome,’ like I don’t know what that means.”

  Wow. I normally liked Rob and Nadia’s family, but right then I wanted to punch them.

  He went on, “There was a state school that offered me an athletic scholarship. Football. But my dad goes, ‘Some people are meant to work with their hands, and there’s no shame in it. I got you through high school but I can’t carry you to a four-year degree. So unless you can make it on your own, I think you have to pass.’”

  “Why didn’t you try?”

  “Because he was right,” he said quietly. “I’d have needed tutors to get through pretty much every class and I’m not so great at football that the university would’ve paid for that, definitely not good enough to go pro. Even if I did squeak out a degree, I can’t think of any job that would suit me better than what I’m doing. So what would’ve been the point?”

  I had no answer for that. Though I had all kinds of quirks, my brain was sharp enough to do pretty much anything I wanted it to. Rob’s pain was tangible, built up over years of people dismissing him as a sweet, good-natured lummox without the acuity to register the offense of it. And that just wasn’t true. I reached over and took his hands; they were big and rough, a testament to years of building. He cupped his fingers around mine, apparently taking comfort in the connection. For me, it wasn’t enough. But he didn’t let down his walls often enough for me to pull back.

  “So then Avery came along. She was smart, pretty and ambitious. When we started dating, she said she saw the potential for greatness in me—between the two of us, we could go places. With her help, I could run my own business. That’s why she was so critical...she was trying to make me better.”

  I didn’t think that was why at all, but now I understood why Rob let her get away with it—because of what she represented. She was clever, no question, and if it took her questioning my morals to make him break free, then I wouldn’t argue that point. But I couldn’t let the other assumption stand.

  “That’s predicated on the bullshit opinion that you need fixing,” I snapped. “You don’t need to be molded into somebody else. Right now, without Avery’s help, you can run a business. Outsource the bookkeeping. A lot of business owners do it to free up time for more important stuff. And you can do it without listening to somebody catalogue your faults.”

  He stared at me with a guarded expression. “You think I can make a go of the furniture design thing we talked about?”

  “Absolutely. That, or house flipping. You’re kind of amazing. I mean, you’re a great cook, you bought a house already and you’re renovating it top to bottom. I’ve already learned a lot from working with you. Bottom line, I believe in you, Rob, and not because I’m sleeping with you. I don’t want to change anything about who you are. I also don’t expect you to make a ton of money and buy me things.” I stared at him, hard, willing him to make the connection.

  Comprehension dawned slowly, but there it was. “I had a lucky escape, huh? If I’d married her, the divorce would’ve wiped me out.”

  There was no benefit to being anything but brutally honest. “Knowing you, if there were kids involved, you would’ve stuck it out, no matter what she did or said.”

  “Probably,” he admitted.

  I grinned. “Then you should thank me for being such an irresistible home wrecker.”

  “Thanks, Lauren.” He tugged gently on our joined hands and I tumbled into his arms.

  He smelled of minty soap and snowy air, a freshness that made me breathe him in. I was in no hurry to get free, so I tucked my face against his neck and shivered each time he exhaled into my hair. Maybe he thought it was weird that I didn’t just thump him on the back a few times, but the last time he held me this way, I was sobbing too hard to enjoy it. This time I registered the strength of his chest and arms, his fierce, protective heat. Once Rob came down on your side, he never wavered. His hands were gentle as he stroked my back; each pass lit me up with more tingles.

  I never saw him touch his sister like this.

  Though I’d be happy to do this all day, we had work to do. So I sat back and curved my hand against his cheek, not something I’d have done before this talk, but we were closer now. “You okay?”

  “Yeah,” Rob said in apparent surprise. Then he pulled my palm down so it was open, facing up, and with one fingertip, he traced a curve. “You...” Then he repeated the motion on the other side, joining the invisible lines. “Are good for me.”

  As he released me, and I curled my fingers instinctively, I realized he’d drawn a heart on my hand. Flustered, I tried to downplay my role in this conversation. “Avery wasn’t right for you. Anyone who cares would say the same.”

  “Not everyone sees me like you do,” he answered.

  Tiny shivers washed over me as I replayed how good it felt in his arms. “Their loss.”

  Our eyes met for a long moment. I fell into the deep blue, briefly veiled by the thick fringe of his lashes when he blinked. His jaw was lightly stubbled, his mouth soft with the hint of a smile. I wished for some kind of secret message hidden in this silence, but it was enough that Rob seemed to be in a better mood; I considered cheering him up for a job well done.

  “Thanks,” he said, clearing his throat. “Ready to get to work?”

  When we got to Rob’s place, the dining-room floor was ready to be stained. He must’ve been up half the night, completing preparations, but he didn’t reveal any hint of how exhausted he must be. That was when I realized fully how much he’d mastered the calm facade—to protect his privacy and keep the world at bay. People made the mistake of thinking he didn’t feel much, but it wasn’t that way at all. Everything was just hidden like a deep, deep well, and then sealed shut with an iron lid. Wistfully, I wondered what it would be like if he let me in. In retrospect, my crush seemed embarrassingly juvenile, based mostly on, OMG, he’s so hot. But there was so much more to him. Because after getting to know him better, I was falling hard. I couldn’t write it off as infatuation; these feelings were real.

  He seemed oblivious to my inner turmoil. More cheerful now, he showed me the proper way to apply the stain. I was surprised when he damped the wood with meticulous care. At my puzzled look, he clarified, “It’s the best way to make sure the stain soaks in. I’m glad you’re here, this is actually a two-person job. I’ll apply the stain, then you go behind me and wipe it off.”

  That seemed counterintuitive, but he was the pro, and it wasn’t like I minded working so close. At some point, I needed to back off, invent a reason why I couldn’t see him every day, but I wasn’t heartless enough to do it the day after he broke up with his girlfriend. With luck, I’d get the receptionist job, solving this dilemma without any need for complicated machinations.

  By the time we finished the first coat, I was incredibly sticky. No euphemisms, I just wasn’t as tidy as Rob. Fortunately, he’d foreseen that we needed an exit strategy, and we finished on the side by the living room, not the far wall.

  He laughed when he saw I’d managed to smear it on my shirt. “That probably won’t come out.”

  “It’s well worth the sacrifice.” The floor looked fantastic, a smooth shade of golden oak that brightened the space. “Does it need another coat?”

  “I don’t want it darker, so I’ll probably do a satin finish seal next.”

  I nodded, like I completely understood what he was talking about. “What color for the dining room?”

  “White ceiling and baseboards. I haven’t decided on the walls yet.”

  “Lemon-yellow would be pretty.” But that might be too girly.

  “Come with me to pick out the paint...I’m not much of a color guy. You co
uld probably guess that from the tan bedroom.”

  Maybe I was reading too much into this, but it seemed too personal to help him decorate, like imprinting myself permanently on his house. “Are you sure?”

  “Yep. I trust you.”

  Nothing he could’ve said would have made me happier. “Then I’m in.”

  Before we ate lunch, he sent me upstairs with special solvent to clean up. It was no wonder he’d snickered; I was a mess. I yelled down the stairs, “Do you mind if I shower?”

  “Go ahead,” he called back.

  I’d used the bathroom before. Like his bedroom, it was finished, remodeled in blue and white tile. The space didn’t have much character, but the workmanship was sound. He needed some fluffy bath mats and pictures on the walls, maybe some candles and good-smelling soap. But he’d said decorating wasn’t really his thing. His house would be simple when he finished, waiting for some woman to add the finishing touches. A pang went through me, so sharp I couldn’t meet my own eyes in the mirror.

  I used the chemicals on my hands to remove the stain, then I soaped them, rinsing the stuff off my skin. Afterward, I hopped in the bath to wash up quickly. It gave me a silly, illicit thrill to use Rob’s soap and shampoo, but I shut those feelings down fast. Rob needed time to get over Avery, and in his eyes I was still just a supportive friend.

  Fifteen minutes later, I came out with wet hair; not my hottest look, but I felt much better. This wasn’t the normal way to attract a guy—I knew that—but Rob wasn’t the type to be drawn by cleavage shirts, fancy hair or makeup. It seemed like only honesty could pull him.

  Rob had BLTs and potato salad waiting down the hall in his room. Taking the plate, I settled in the chair beside him with a happy sigh. “I eat better here than I do at home.”

  “My mom made the salad. She thinks I’m living on ramen.”