Love Me (12 page)

Chapter Fifteen

Dinner was the last thing on Brianna’s mind.

By the time they finished eating, all she could think about was Thomas. Thomas in Vegas. Thomas in California. Thomas naked in her bed. But mostly, Thomas not leaving.

He had insinuated he might be open to staying in Vegas, but she hadn’t opened her mouth and told him she would like that very much. Hadn’t said a word about it. What if she asked him to stay, and he later resented her for keeping him away from his family? What if they didn’t work out and he ended up stuck in a city he hated, working with an ex he could no longer stand?

Okay, she needed to stop thinking so much. And she knew the perfect way to accomplish that. She needed to kiss Thomas. That would wipe all the worries and doubts away. Every time his fingers brushed hers, or his knee glided along her thigh, the heavy pressure inside her grew. By the time they finished eating, Thai cuisine at a lovely restaurant a few miles from his hotel, she was boiling. She didn’t know how much more she could take.

He’d said they could take it slow. Just relax. The hell with that. She needed him too much. They’d been dating for a while now with only kisses and grade-school caresses to show for it. Part of that was her own fault, she knew. She’d been so hesitant. So uncertain of whether or not she was ready.

She was more than ready. She was aching.

Thomas had been respectful and kind, but the time had come for something more. He pulled the truck into the hotel parking lot. She stole a peek at him. His jaw was taut, and his fingers gripped the steering wheel so tightly the tendons stood out sharply against his skin. She knew he wanted her. She didn’t need a magic ball to figure it out. She also knew he was brimming over the edges with anxiety.

She cleared her throat. “Ready to go in?”

“Right. Of course.” He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, not looking at her. “Yeah. But we need to—”

“Thomas.” She rested her hand on his thigh. Her fingers trailed up, tracing the hard, tense bunching of muscle beneath his slacks. “Relax.”

He went very still. His gaze dropped to her hand, following it with an almost unnerving intensity. Slowly, he nodded. “Let’s go.”

She followed him from the truck into the hotel, never taking her eyes from him. His slacks did fabulous things to his rear end, and that was only the start. The moment they were inside, she thought, she’d probably climb him like a tree. She pictured herself clawing up his leg like a kitten and couldn’t help a sudden laugh. God, he’d probably look at her like she was crazy. She clapped a hand over her mouth to stifle her nervous giggles.

He stiffened and looked over his shoulder. “Did I do something funny?”

She shook her head. “No, I just had a random thought. It was silly.”

He looked at her, tense, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. She faltered… Why was he—oh.
Oh.
Of course. He was flashing back to another time with another woman. Brianna exhaled and stepped closer, resting her hand on his arm.

“I’m not Nicole,” she murmured. “I’d never laugh at you like that. I was laughing at myself.”

“Why?” he asked after a long, hesitant moment.

“I. Um.” She averted her eyes and shrugged. “Nothing.”

“Oh.”

Oh, God.
She closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to her temples. “I was thinking I’d like to touch your butt.”

He choked on a laugh. “What?”

“Oh, shut up.”

She was saved by the arrival of the elevator. She knotted her fingers in the sleeve of his shirt and nearly dragged him inside. He stumbled after her, a surprised look in his eyes. But she also saw hunger. For her. “That eager to get me upstairs?”

“Maybe,” she muttered. “Keep laughing and I might change my mind.”

“Brianna.” Suddenly he was close, too close. He backed her against the wall. Hadn’t they been in this situation once before? His hands fell to grip her hips. “Don’t be embarrassed. I like how frank you are.”

“I know.” She pressed against him and ran her nails over his chest. “If you want me to be frank, I’ll be frank. I want you.”

The heat igniting in his gaze almost set her aflame. “I want you, too. But—”

“No buts.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and dragged him down, rising up on her toes to meet him. “Just us.”

“Brianna,” he breathed, and kissed her.

His lips captured her breath and gave it back to her in rushed pants. She trembled and melded her body to his. She needed to feel more of him. All of him. He locked her to him with a fierce hold. When his tongue slipped between her lips, she met it eagerly. He tasted like scotch and strawberries and Pad Thai. With each stroke of his tongue, with each touch of his lips, she melted more. Needed more.

She kneaded at the hard muscles of his chest, bunching up handfuls of his shirt. Her forearm brushed against his abdomen, and his stomach flexed into delicious ripples that she ached to explore. He groaned, ripped his mouth from hers, and stepped back.

For a moment she thought the elevator had stopped on his floor, but it was still moving, the yellow dot of light pinging through the numbers just over his head. She blinked at him. He ran a shaking hand through his hair, his cheeks flushed. His eyes met hers, dark with uncertainty, closed and careful and utterly shuttered.

Her heart rolled in a seasick sway that left her queasy. “What? What is it?”

“This…” His voice was stilted and curt. “This isn’t working for me anymore. We need to talk inside my room.”

The chill in each word cut into her like slivers of ice. This was it. The moment she’d been fearing. He was going to break it off with her and go back to California. “Are you…are we…?”

She broke off. Just a few hours ago, he’d told her he was happy with her. Had made it seem like he was interested in staying with her in Vegas. Now he was pushing her away? Why?

What had changed so suddenly?

“No. But we need to talk about our future,” he said, and her stomach dropped out. “I don’t want to just continue dating you.”

Oh my God. They were breaking up.

“Why?” she asked, her voice cracking. She wouldn’t cry. She couldn’t cry. Damn it, she liked him too much
not
to cry, but she wouldn’t in front of him. She wrapped her arms around herself, hugging tight. Trying to hold her heartache in. “Never mind. Don’t answer. You’re not interested anymore. You want to leave. I get it. You got the contract signed and now you’re ready to return to your old life. Just take me home.”

“Wait. I started this wrong.” He took a deep breath and looked down at her with wide eyes. “Brianna, it’s not that I don’t want you. It’s that I—”

“It doesn’t matter what your reasons are. I don’t need to hear them.” She smoothed her clothing and lifted her chin. “It’s fine.”

“Jesus, will you let me fucking talk?” he snarled. The elevator door opened behind him, but he stayed where he was, glaring at her with something like desperation.

That was the last straw. He was going to get ugly with her after he’d dropped this on her out of nowhere? When she was trying to remain calm and collected? She clamped her lips together until they stilled their trembling.

“You don’t need to. I’ve been avoiding this conversation, but it’s about time it came up. We’re done.” She stepped closer—and shoved him back, out of the elevator. His face blanked with shock and…was that hurt? No. She wouldn’t think about that. He didn’t get to be hurt right now. While he stumbled, struggling to regain his balance, she stabbed the button for the lobby. “Good-bye, Thomas.”

“Brianna, wait—!”

The elevator door closed, almost on his reaching fingers.

Brianna stood there watching the numbers count down. Numb. Frozen. God, she’d been so stupid. So obliviously happy. She felt the knot welling in her throat, her eyes burning, but the hot, painful tension inside her wouldn’t break into tears. She wondered distantly if she was in shock.

That hadn’t just happened.

She’d thought he’d been perfect. Maybe that was the problem. He was too perfect. He said all the right things, did everything perfectly, was too handsome, too witty, too intelligent. Too good. She’d been lucky enough to find a good man once, who loved her until the day he died. She hadn’t thought love had been possible back then, but Michael had showed her it existed. But not with Thomas.

To hell with Thomas. To hell with men.

She had her kids and her memories of Michael. They were all she needed. And right now, she had every intention of flagging down a cab and going home to a tub of mint chocolate chip ice cream. She could spend her night in her pajamas, watching chick flicks, and sobbing into her tub of mint-chocolate calorie overload.

After she got rid of Jeremy and Erica.

Her vision blurred. She wiped at her eyes with a curse and pushed past the elevator doors before they fully had a chance to open, stalking out into the lobby. The front desk staff was probably staring at her, but hell. It was Vegas. They should be used to seeing crying women storm out of hotels.

A door banged open behind her, and Thomas’s voice rose in a ragged shout. “Brianna!”

She glanced over her shoulder just in time to see him lunge out of the stairwell. No. She couldn’t face him right now. Couldn’t face his excuses and whatever reasons he wanted to spill out just to make him feel better about himself. Just so he could get his closure. She’d been through it too many times, only before it had been just casual dates during the brief period she’d spent venturing into the dating pool.

It hadn’t been a man she’d thought she’d fallen in love with and could see herself with for the rest of her life.

His voice chased her, but she ignored him and walked faster, the impact of each sharp-clicking step quivering up through her heels. She pushed the lobby door open so hard it jingled and bounced off the outside wall and nearly ran across the parking lot. It was getting harder and harder to see. She needed to get home before she busted out bawling. And goddammit, if he didn’t stop calling her name—

“Brianna, if you’d just let me explain—”

“No!” She whirled and glared at him. “You said you don’t want to date me anymore. And I’m fine with that. Okay? I’m trying to make this easy for you. For both of us. So just leave me alone. I don’t want you near my kids—or
me
.” Inspiration struck. She knew how to make him feel better—while simultaneously leaving her alone. “I was going to call it off between us, anyway.”

“O-Oh.” His face crumpled. His outstretched hand dropped to his side; his other hand was hidden behind his back. For a moment her heart broke. How could he look at her like that? Like she’d torn his heart out, when he was the one who’d just decided to break things off with her, in the damned elevator of all places?

“I just can’t. I
can’t
.” She backed away a few steps, then turned and ran. She barely saw the crosswalk, only knew the light was red and the little man was telling her it was safe to walk to the southbound side of the street and flag down a cabbie who was going her way. Even better, there was a bus pulling up to the curb; public transit worked just as well. Anything with wheels that pointed somewhere toward home. She ran faster. She probably looked stupid, bolting in front of traffic in heels with tears running down her cheeks.

As long as it got her away from
him
, she didn’t care.

The light changed just as she reached the sidewalk and nearly fell against the signpost when one of her three-inch heels twisted underneath her and nearly pitched her to the sidewalk. The bus was easing forward. She struggled upright and ran for it.

“Wait!”

The bus slowed, lights flashing. The door opened, and she stumbled up the steps, fumbling in her purse for change. Fuck.
Fuck,
she could still hear him, calling her name, begging her to wait.

“Go,” she told the driver. “Now!”

The man stared at her strangely. She must look a fright, sweaty and red-faced with her eyes brimming with tears and her hair flying everywhere. She shoved a dollar bill into the slot with shaking fingers. The doors started to squeak closed, and the bus rolled forward.

“Bri—”

Thomas never finished. His voice broke off in a sharp cry. Brianna turned so quickly she nearly stumbled. Thomas had thrust his hand into the door, stopping it from closing, and it was caught, clenched tight between the folding accordion halves and squeezing tighter.

And the bus was still moving.

The momentum dragged him forward so sharply his entire body smacked into the side of the vehicle. Cries of curiosity and surprise rose from the back of the bus. Someone shouted something about 911. Thomas’s face crushed against the glass door with a sickening
crunch
that turned Brianna’s stomach, and blood blossomed from his nose.

“Thomas!”

“Shit, man!” the bus driver cried, slamming on the brakes. He yanked the door release. It slammed open, releasing Thomas’s arm. He staggered back, clutching his nose with a hand turned nearly purple. His eyes were wide, dazed.

“I dink du broke by dose,” he said thickly.

Brianna tumbled down the steps. “Oh God, are you all right? What were you thinking? Why would you do that?”

His eyes focused slowly. He looked at her, and then smiled. It was the most ridiculous smile she’d ever seen, with blood streaming down from his swollen and reddened nose—and it was almost heartbreakingly sweet. “Du wuddin listhen. I hadda gatch du.”

The tears that had been threatening were so close to spilling over. She reached up to touch his swelling face gingerly; he hissed and flinched. She bit her lip. That idiot. He couldn’t even talk, and he was still standing there smiling at her.

“Nothing you could say is worth hurting yourself like this,” she said.

“Dumthink ish. Du diddin leg be dell du.” His smile widened. “Du diddin leg be gib du thig.”

What the hell had he just said?

His other hand came from behind his back. He was holding one of her missing shoes—the cute little Dior with the artfully tapered heel and the bow on the toe. But it wasn’t the shoe that made her legs go weak, until she was forced to sit down heavily, bottom thumping down against the bus steps.