by Ann Aguirre
“I can talk.” As always, I have this bizarre push-pull reaction when I talk to Nadia.
Part of me wants to be a dick and cut her off because when I hear her voice, I also get a thousand echoes of our folks saying things to her that I’ll never hear, no matter what I do. But it’s not her fault—it never was—and I remember how she used to tag along after me, convinced there was nothing I couldn’t do. She figured that for bullshit soon enough, but when she was eight, I was a god in her eyes; I pulled her out of trees and put Band-Aids on her knees.
“How are things?”
“I’m fine. Busy with work.” The first thing was a lie.
I’m anything but. I’m gutted. I’m a shell. But I can’t say that to my sister, Lauren’s best friend. There’s no way it doesn’t get back to her, and if I ever hear from her again, I don’t want it to be out of pity. There’s a pitiful flicker in me; maybe it’s hope, that this isn’t the end—that instead, we’re waiting, figuring things out. I don’t know what to do, other than let her miss me. I’m so afraid it won’t be enough. But she’s seen everything I’ve got to offer.
And I’m alone.
“You’re filming now, right? Is that weird?”
“Pretty much. I bet you never saw this coming.”
“You’ve got celebrity looks, bro.”
“I guess.” I try for a casual tone. “So how’s Lauren doing? Is she seeing anyone?”
Nadia pauses. “She seems okay. I don’t know about her social life, but she’s still working at the dealership, hanging out, working on her degree. You ever think about calling her?”
Only every day.
I mumble something. “Have you talked to Mom and Dad?”
“Yeah, a few days ago. They seem to be okay. Lauren’s filling in when Mom needs a hand. I should send a present.”
It sucks because I can’t even hear her name in casual conversation without an iron vise tightening around my ribs. “Let me know. I’ll chip in. Ty and Sam doing all right?”
“Yeah. In fact, it’s bath time. I have to go. I’ll talk to you next week.”
In the background, I hear her laughing and the sound of Sam giggling. Nadia hangs up before I can answer. I can’t wrap my head around the fact that my baby sister is parenting right now. I mean, what the hell? But Ty seems like a decent guy, so there’s no need for me to step on his neck and terrorize him.
There’s no need for me to do anything, except work out and talk about home remodeling projects on camera. This should be the best thing that ever happened to me. And...it’s cool, no question. More than I expected to achieve on my own. But really, I didn’t. Lauren was with me the whole way, mapping the route; I just followed the trail she marked, something any monkey could manage.
I can’t bring myself to look at any of the paperwork Annette has emailed me. No point, as I’ll have my lawyer check it before I sign. I remember my grandma sighing once when she didn’t know I could hear. Poor Rob, she’d said. He’s just smart enough to know he’s dumb. That pretty much sums it up. So I won’t pretend I understand this party of the first part, second part, with respect to whatever. Ignoring the fan mail, I shut down my laptop and head into the bedroom.
The binders I took from Lauren have been piled up on my bedside table for months. The pages are faintly yellowed, crinkled, and she’s doodled pictures of me in the margin. While she might be a decent writer, her art is awful. But I run my fingers over the smudged ink, seeing myself through her eyes. A king. A hero. I’m none of those things, but it kills me that she saw me that way, even for a minute.
I’m a slow reader, and even at thirteen, Lauren knew all kinds of good words. So I have a pocket dictionary, too. Which is embarrassing. Even if it takes ten hours, I’ll finish the last book tonight. Since I’m not a book guy, I can’t say if these stories are any good, but when I imagine her spending so much time on them, I can’t help but love them.
Just like her.
Settling back against the headboard, I flick the light on and open to the final quarter of the third volume. When I left off, the sorceress and the young king had been separated by two armies. He was leading one, and she’d been captured by his enemies. I flip until I find the exact sentence where I stopped before. I hate the idea that Laurenara is locked up while King Robert is too far away to help her, but I should’ve known it’s not that kind of story. Twenty pages later, the sorceress rescues herself and then rushes off to help her guy kick some ass. Book Robert is kind of dense, though. He doesn’t seem to realize that she’s crazy in love with him, and that’s why she’s always around, why she’ll do anything for him.
I settle in. Read one page. Another. It’s past midnight when I turn to the last page. My eyes feel grainy; I’m not used to focusing this hard, and I have a headache tapping at my skull. But I keep reading.
“This woman has been by my side for years,” King Robert decreed, taking Laurenara’s dainty, slender hand. “And I have come to value her more than my own life. Let any man who would keep us apart face my sword.”
The court was silent, not even a whisper from the lush velvet skirts worn by the ladies in waiting who had eyed the young noble from behind their fancy lacquered fans. Then a courtier broke from the crowd to stride toward the king.
“You object?” Robert’s sparkling cerulean eyes narrowed dangerously.
“There is no precedent,” the man lisped, as was the court custom.
“I have waged one war for her already,” King Robert said coldly. “Shall we have another?”
“N-no, sire.”
The king fixed a hard gaze on his court. “I care nothing for her lineage. Know this, she has a pure heart, a lion’s courage, and she will be my queen.”
I close the binder. So they got a happy ending. I’m glad of that, but the real Lauren seems really far away right now. So much that it hurts. I only feel whole when she’s looking at me, and without her, I might disappear.
But something’s bugging me. If King Robert’s dumb for not realizing that Laurenara does everything because she loves him...I wonder. Digging isn’t my specialty, and I’m really scared of being wrong. Maybe I’m reaching because I want this to be true. But...maybe Lauren sent me off alone because she loves me. I’m not really sure why; in the story, though, the sorceress lies because she doesn’t want the king finding out the truth and getting hurt.
This is all I have; I’ll hang on until she tells me I’m wrong. I’ll believe that the end is a beginning waiting to happen.
So I go into the living room and find some paper. I write six different drafts, but I can’t find the words. I sound like an idiot, no matter what I say or how I put it. Eventually, I just head out to a twenty-four-hour parcel store with the binders. If I think too long about this, I’ll chicken out. The lights are too bright in here, and the guy behind the counter looks tired and bored. While he’s typing in my information and getting a box big enough to hold what’s left of my hope, I hug the binders, hard. Hope he didn’t see that. The corners bite into my arms, a good, sharp pain, better than being numb.
Call me. Call me, beautiful.
She’s everything to me. And I’ll wait for her forever.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from I WANT IT THAT WAY.
Playlist for
As Long As You Love Me
“Looking for Shelter” —Good Old War
“Across the Ocean” —Azure Ray
“Hard Out Here” —Lily Allen
“A Moment Changes Everything” —David Gray
“May It Be” —Enya
“It’s Time” —Imagine Dragons
“If I Had a Heart” —Fever Ray
“This Isn’t Everything You Are” —Snow Patrol
“Wrecking Ball” —Miley Cyrus
“In You
r Arms Again” —Josh Ritter
“Unpretty” —TLC
“Ho Hey” —The Lumineers
“Hey Ya” —Obadiah Parker
“Come & Find Me” —Josh Ritter
Thank you!
I’m so glad you read As Long As You Love Me. I hope you enjoyed it.
Would you like to know when my next book will be available or keep up with my news? Visit my website at www.annaguirre.com and sign up for my newsletter. You can also follow me on Twitter at twitter.com/msannaguirre, or “like” my Facebook fan page at www.facebook.com/ann.aguirre for excerpts and contests.
Reviews help other readers, so please consider writing one. I appreciate your time and your support.
As Long As You Love Me is the second book in my new adult romance series. The first was I Want It That Way and the last is The Shape of My Heart.
Again, thanks for your readership; it means the world to me.
Acknowledgments
Thanks to Margo Lipschultz for being incredible. We’ve both worked so hard, and the books reflect our effort. The whole Harlequin team has been phenomenal, practically achieving feats of wizardry on my behalf, and I appreciate their tremendous support more than I can say.
Thanks to Laura Bradford for being my chief ally and biggest fan, always.
So much appreciation for Bree Bridges, who shared her experiences with earning a computer science degree when you possess two X chromosomes. Any mistakes or liberties are my own.
I must also acknowledge the contributions of women who have shared stories with me over the years. Please know that your voices were heard and that I remember. I did my best to speak...because the world silenced you.
All gratitude, respect and admiration to Donna J. Herren, Lauren Dane, Megan Hart, HelenKay Dimon, Tessa Dare, Courtney Milan, and Yasmine Galenorn for the unconditional friendship and sisterhood.
Karen Alderman and Majda ˇColak have been my beta readers for years. At this point, I have no idea how I’d write books without their input. Ladies, don’t ever leave me.
Thanks to anyone who offered me a kind word when I needed one. And thanks to those who never kick me when I’m down. Thanks to the people who help restore my faith in the fundamental goodness of others.
Which leaves my family. I’m so proud. The fact that you believe in me is the only reason I’ve come this far, and I adore you all. Thank you for your patience.
Readers, you’re always on my mind. I hope my words make you laugh a lot, cry a little—feel all the things—and that you close the book a little happier than you were. Thanks for supporting me, and as always, read on.
“A tender, sweet and sexy story about how life—and falling in love—can never be planned.”
—Jennifer L. Armentrout, #1 New York Times bestselling author of Wait for You
If you loved As Long As You Love Me by New York Times bestselling author Ann Aguirre, be sure to catch the following two titles in her contemporary romance trilogy, available in ebook format:
I Want It That Way
The Shape of My Heart (December 2014)
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CHAPTER ONE
The first time I saw Ty, I fell down the stairs and tore my pants.
A superstitious person might call that an omen. He had nothing to do with it, of course; that was just a quirk of timing. While Lauren and I struggled with the sofa, a guy I presumed to be a new neighbor came into the building. He had auburn hair, brown eyes and a strong jaw dusted with gold scruff. I’d always had a soft spot for gingers, probably a result of growing up on Harry Potter movies. He was also tall and lean with a sculpted, ascetic face, like an austere warrior who would be at home on the prow of a ship. Okay, it was possible I’d watched too many episodes of Vikings this week.
When he saw us wrangling such a heavy piece of furniture, he only sighed, stepped around the boxes cluttering the foyer and checked his mailbox. No greeting, no “welcome to the complex.” I was halfway up the stairs to the landing, heaving my end of the sofa, when my hands slipped and the couch bounced away. I lunged for it, missed and came tumbling after. Lauren jumped aside like it was a sled on the slalom track, so the brown plaid monstrosity thumped ahead of me back down to the floor. The couch just missed slamming into the wall; I wasn’t so lucky. In honor of moving day, I had on old comfy pants, and they’d been washed one too many times, judging by the audible rip as I bounced off the wall and landed at Lauren’s feet.
She pulled me up, eyes wide. “You okay?”
“Just bruises to pride and pelvis,” I mumbled.
She tilted her head at the workload awaiting us. “Maybe we should wait for the guys to get back from their beer run?”
I surveyed the mess we’d created in front of the entrance and just outside, conscious that we were inconveniencing our neighbors. “We can’t really leave things like this.”
“I’ll help you with the couch.” As greetings went, it wasn’t the warmest. Grumpy Ginger strode toward us, rolling up the sleeves on his dress shirt to reveal very nice forearms: lightly tanned and dusted with auburn hair, lean but strong with prominent wrist bones. His hands appealed to me just as much, long-fingered and elegant, without being overly manicured. You know, if you liked that sort of thing. I was bad at estimating ages, but he was probably out of school, judging by the business casual he had on.
Belatedly, I realized I’d been studying him for thirty seconds too long. “If you’re sure.”
“It’s fine. I’ll walk backward and guide it up.”
“Thanks,” Lauren put in. “We’d prefer not to commit soficular homicide our first day in the building.”
Since my back was to the wall, I escaped the ignominy of the new neighbor seeing my panda underpants. He slid by and hefted the sofa up a few stairs on his own. Lauren and I worked together, and it was much easier with him doing the heavy lifting up top. With a minimum of fuss, we maneuvered the couch up to the second floor, where GG paused.
“A or B?” he asked.
“B.” I should win the prize for hilarious banter.
Nodding, he helped us carry it down the hall and into the apartment. We’d left the door open since we had so little in there. Most of it was still cluttering the lobby downstairs. Max and Angus had taken off as soon as we got everything unloaded: my car, Angus’s and the rental truck. After that, they were gone like the wind with the excuse that moving in would be more fun with pizza, cold beer and a buzz on.
“You’re right above me.” He didn’t look particularly happy about it, either.
I shot Lauren a what’s with this guy look, and she shrugged.
“I’m Nadia,” I said.
At first he didn’t say anything, so she tried, “That makes me Lauren.”
“Ty,” he said finally, like this basic introduction was akin to signing a long-term cell contract.
Lauren started, “The guys will be back with drinks in a bit, if you want—”
“No, it’s okay. I need to get home.” If curt was a hat, he would be wearing it with jaunty disregard for our feelings.
Awkward. And I still need to change my pants.
“Well, thanks for helping us out. We can handle the rest of the boxes.”
Ty took my comment as his cue to leave, so we followed him downstairs to work on the rest of our stuff. He looked tired as hell as he headed toward apartment 1B, the unit to the back of the building; it had a nice co
urtyard, unlike the front or upstairs. We had a balcony, but it wasn’t big enough for a barbecue, unless you bought the kind people used for tailgating.
Lauren and I were moving in with a couple of friends, and since we’d lost the coin toss, we were sharing the master bedroom, while Angus and Max got their own rooms. The biggest perk was that we didn’t have to use a grungy dude bathroom; we had an en-suite bath, along with a walk-in closet. Four people in a three-bedroom made the rent more manageable, and since I was often living on ramen by the end of the month, I couldn’t complain. I grabbed one of my boxes, marked CLOTHING, and ran upstairs with it, wincing at the sore spot where I’d collided with the wall.
“Nice panda,” Lauren said, deadpan.
“Shut up.”
I ducked into our bathroom to put on sweats and then went back down, passing Lauren on the stairs. As I hefted a box, a gray-haired woman stepped out of 1B. She was distinctly pear-shaped, moving like her feet hurt, but she smiled as she came through the foyer, giving me a friendly wave.
“Normally, I’d say ‘see you tomorrow’ but this is my last day.” With that cryptic remark, she left, and I hauled my carton upstairs.
As Lauren and I traipsed down to load up again, Max and Angus were just coming in. When I smelled the pizza, I decided they didn’t suck as much as previously estimated. They each grabbed two boxes and let Lauren and me carry up the pizza and beer. With four of us on the job, pretty soon we had all of our stuff in the apartment. The place was a jumble, but at least we could close the door.
“Sorry we were gone so long.” Angus was genuinely concerned. “Did the couch give you any trouble?”
I warned Lauren with a look not to mention my pratfall or wardrobe malfunction. “Somewhat, but I gave it a stern talking-to, and it settled down. Promised to be less of a malcontent in the future.”
Max dismissed the topic by frowning at the spot where we’d left the sofa. “It needs to face that way. That wall is better for movies and gaming.”
