Never Letting You Go (Being Yours Novella Series Book 1) (2 page)

He gives me a small smile and holds out his hand. “Friends?”

I shake my head and give a small laugh. “Yeah, friends,” I say sadly.

What I thought was going to be the best day ever has ended up being the worst. Although, I apparently get a great friend out of it. Whatever. I would have made him so damn happy. We could’ve been so damn happy. Our children would have been beautiful, too. Now, we won’t have that chance. At least he didn’t ask me to give him a child to further solidify his plans. That would’ve been awkward.

There was this country song that my mom would play in the car sometimes. It was about a girl who went through all this trouble to look amazing for her man, and he totally bailed on her.  Ok, so he was too distracted by TV and alcohol to pay attention to her. But I now understood how she felt. Did I really shave my legs for this?

Chapter 1

6 years later

Ava

I get home a little after four in the afternoon, happy as can be. Six years ago last month, I married Cameron. Last week, after waiting for the blow to come, I took matters into my own hands and called a lawyer to start divorce proceedings. Today, I went in to sign everything, and the papers are being delivered to him at work tomorrow.

I don’t know why he didn’t get this started right away himself. I figured he would have had the papers drawn up years ago, but for the past two years, things have been weird between us. He’s gone more often than not, and we fight all the time. I really think that adding sex to our stupid arrangement was the worst thing we have ever done.

For a while there, I thought maybe we were trying our hand at a real marriage. But then, three months ago, I turned on this stupid gossip show on TV and saw him, my husband, being photographed with stupid ass Becky, who was clearly pregnant. That’s another reason I didn’t have a clue as to why he hasn’t started the divorce proceedings himself. Fool me twice… There sure as hell won’t be a third time.

Tonight, I can still pretend. He is still coming home, giving me a quick kiss like he does every evening, and sharing a shower. We will go on a date or have sex, or sometimes, we even just watch movies. I thought things were great, but now, I know they aren’t. I was foolish to think he could actually want me for more than just a pretend wife.

I see Connie in the kitchen starting supper, and I smile at her. “Hey, Connie,” I greet her.

“Hey, Ava, sweetheart. How are you today?” she asks. She looks at me, almost trying to assess something, like she knows. I don’t like the way she is staring at me; it makes me uneasy. If she can see through me, so will Cameron. I need to get my game face on. I’ve had plenty of practice masking my true feelings over the years.

Plastering on my smile, I tell her excitedly, “I’m good. I finally finished my book this morning. Going to do a reread tonight and then send it to my editing team tomorrow.” I got into the self-publishing business about a year ago. After discovering that there are authors out there who do it themselves, I tried my hand at it. I’ve been offered contract after contract, but I don’t want to get into that. Doing it for myself is just fine. Heck, all of my books have been on the bestseller lists, too.

“That’s great. Which book is this one?” she asks me while chopping some onions.

“It’s just a romance this time. My motorcycle club books have done amazing, but I want to try out something a little different from them. We’ll see how my readers take it,” I tell her. “Do you need any help?” I always offer, but she never accepts my help.

“Oh, no, dear. Why don’t you go on, have a shower? Cameron should be home soon, and supper will be served.” She turns back to the stove, dismissing me.

I go upstairs and turn the shower on, setting my clothes out on the bed while waiting for it to heat up. Not even two minutes into my shower, the curtain opens and Cameron steps in. He grins at me.

“Hey, babe, need a little help?” he propositions me, his façade firmly in place. It’s so seamless that on the outside looking in, it looks like he’s being serious.

I shake my head, smiling slightly. God, why can’t he be real? Why is he pretending everything is okay? He got his other woman pregnant. Was there some other term of the will I didn’t know about. He’d brought up children before, when I believed he fell in love with me and we became intimate. I brushed it off because I didn’t want to bring a child into something that wasn’t concrete. If I were in a healthier marriage, I would’ve outright asked him about our future, about our real future. About the future that had an expiration date. But I loved him so much that I allowed myself to be swept up again, instead of sticking to the original plan. Well, now that expiration date has come and gone, and yet neither one of us has moved on.

It’s time for us to move on. It became time when he knocked up Becky. Hell, before then. I try not to think too much about how he was sleeping with us both.

“How was work?” I ask him as he rinses the soap out of my hair, his hard body pressed against mine. I press my butt into his crotch. I want him to think everything is okay. This time tomorrow, I won’t even be in this house. I’ll be gone by the time he has the papers. At least, for one last night, I can pretend everything is okay with us. I can play his game one last time.

“Long. I have a meeting tomorrow, so I’ll be home late. Maybe Friday night we can go out? That new Cinderella movie is out
.
I know you’ve been wanting to see it.”

See what I mean? He’s so caring and loving. I just wish it were real. But it’s not, and I signed up for this, albeit after the ink on the marriage license was dry.

“Yeah, really? That would be awesome!” I squeal in mock excitement, also totally lying. I’ll still go see it, just not with him. I turn to face him as his eyes roam over my body.

He leans in once all the soap is out of my hair and kisses me softly. I moan into the kiss then step back. “Supper should be ready, but we can pick this up when Connie goes home,” I say, winking.

He slaps my ass as I hop out of the shower with a loud giggle. A part of me is sad that it has come to this, but it has to be done—the divorce. I can’t continue to live his lie.

Cameron

Watching Ava walk out of the bathroom, I grin. God, I love her. I didn’t think it would happen. We started this whole thing out because I had to. I didn’t think I’d fall for her, but I did. Two years ago, I had enough of wanting her and never having her, and made the step to take my wife the way I should have years ago, if I hadn’t been such an idiot. We’ve been like that ever since. I’ve come to love her, care for her, and she’s been amazing. I don’t know why I kept her in the friend zone for so much of our marriage.

Of course, Becky was pissed, knowing my feelings for her are now long gone. Three years ago, I got rid of Becky for good. Six months ago, though, she showed up at my office, talking about how happy she is that my marriage to Ava is almost up, and letting me know she’ll be sending out invitations to our wedding as soon as my divorce from Ava is finalized.

I never realized before how much of a screw Becky had loose, but there it was, on display.

Though I know I should probably bring up some things to Ava, since it’s past the six
-
year mark, we’re happy, so I don’t see the point. Now that the terms are up
,
maybe we can start a family
,
finally. I tried asking Ava a year ago if she wanted children, but she brushed it off. Probably, I guessed, she wanted to wait until the terms of the marriage were up, not wanting to bring a child into this weird thing until we were solid, sure. But I’m more than sure. Hell, I want to remarry her and start over.

I want to make all of our wasted years up to her.

As I finish my shower and head downstairs, the smell of Connie’s homemade spaghetti greets me. My mouth waters, but not because of the food. Ava is sitting at the kitchen table, her hair up in a messy bun, drops of water still sprinkled across the back of her neck. I come up behind her, lean down, and lick the water off. She shivers, and I grin.

“Stop that, you, or Connie’s gonna have a show,” she taunts, smiling at me. I see something, this look in her eyes. She has this dead look. Fear grips at me.

“Are you okay?” I ask her.

She blinks at me and shakes her head. “Of course, just tired. I’m in for a long night. I have to reread my book before sending it to my editor in the morning.” I can’t shake the feeling she’s lying, but I don’t question her on it. I know how she gets when she is working on one of her books. I am so proud of her. At first, I thought it was some silly hobby, but she’s talented. I’ve never been one to read for pleasure, the nature of my job burns me out when it comes to words on paper. But after the path of our relationship changed, she would wake me up at night sometimes for ‘research.’ I love research when it comes to tasting and touching every inch of her. So finally, one day, I broke down and snagged one of the books with a shirtless male chest on it and dug in. It was hot, knowing my sexy wife had this naughty of an imagination.

All the girls at the office gush over her work.

We enjoy our meal, and she relaxes, seeming more like herself as she sips on her wine. Connie leaves for the day, giving us our much needed alone time. Since she has to work late tonight, I decide to make tonight about her. I grab her hand and lead her to bed. She unzips her dress, letting it fall slowly to pool at her feet.

Taking her hands in mine, I help her finish stepping out of it. Her bra straps are sliding down her shoulders, so sexy. She tugs on my belt, undoing the buckle quickly, and then her slender fingers are shoving my pants down my legs. My erection stands proud and prominent.

Hooking my thumbs in the dainty waistline of her lace thong, I tear the delicate fabric at the seams easily, tossing the material to the floor.

Ava lies back on the bed and makes a come-hither motion with her finger, giving me those come and get it, sultry bedroom eyes.

I massage the balls of her feet, and work my hands over her calves and up her thighs, before settling between her legs. Her core is wet and ready when I kiss her swollen clit. Her nails dig in my scalp as I lick her delicate skin and spread her walls with two fingers, getting her ready to climax for me.

Her cheeks flush pink as she pants, breathing hard as her knees shake. I know she is close, so I shove her legs open wider and slam into her, impaling her with my cock. I love making love to her. I wish we were trying to make a baby and start the family I have been hinting about.

Laying into her, I’m driving her orgasm home as she shatters around me. I want to talk to her about a baby, but she is up and in the bathroom, cleaning up, and then off to her room to work on her book. It hurts. Makes me feel like a cheap one-night stand when she does this.

I know it isn’t personal, but it sure feels that way. 

Later, I go to her room to demand she talks to me about starting our family.

Her head is resting on her hand in front of the glowing monitor.

Coming up behind her, I tell her, “I want a family.” But she is fast asleep.

I gather her in my arms and lay her in her bed, wishing she would open up to me just a little bit more.

Chapter 2

1 year into marriage

Ava

“Ava!” I hear Cameron shout as he opens the front door.

The past year has been okay. It’s not been great, of course, since I found out our marriage isn’t what I thought it would be, but we’ve built a great friendship.

“What?” I shout back, coming out of my bedroom.

“Have you seen my red tie? It’s the only one that matches this shirt,” he explains as he stands in front of me.

I narrow my eyes at him and think. “Did you check your tie drawer?”

Cameron blushes and puts his head down. “Uh, no.”

I laugh hard and shake my head. “And why not?”

He gives me an impish look and shrugs. “I always forget that you made that special tie drawer.” He leans down, giving me a kiss on the head. “I’ll go look now. Thanks, Ava.”

Still, it hurts every once in a while, when I realize our marriage isn’t what I wanted. I still have all these stupid feelings for him, and, of course, every single time I know he’s going out on a date, I get extremely jealous. I can’t help it. What woman wants to know her husband is taking another woman out.

Why aren’t I enough for him? Why can’t he see that I am crazy in love with him? I would do anything for him, including being his fake wife. I have tried to move on from him, but it’s hard living here with him putting on the show. Some days, it feels real.

I watch Cameron go into his room, and I follow. “Hey, Cam?”

“Yeah?” he asks, pulling out his red tie.

“Um, would you mind if I went out tonight?” I ask him hesitantly.

He looks at me and frowns. “Why are you asking permission?”

“Well, um, it’s because I was asked out on a date,” I admit and immediately start biting my lip. I haven’t really ever seen anyone outside of our marriage. I know we have an arrangement, but it feels wrong when I know his ring is on my finger and I carry his last name.

I don’t look at Cameron. It’s kinda weird, even though we’re married but not. The air in the room changes as he processes my words.

“Uh, who is he?” Cameron asks.

“Um, he’s in my English Lit class. He knows I’m married, but he also know
s
you and I are only friends. I told him yes, but I wanted to check with you first,” I blab, digging my teeth in my lip, nearly drawing blood I feel so anxious.

I hear his drawer shut, and I look up. Oh, dear, Cameron looks pissed—like pissed with a capitol P. “Where is he taking you?” His eyes narrow on me, and I blush under his scrutinizing stare. I wish he didn’t have such an effect on me, but he does. I can’t help the feelings that still linger in my heart for him.

“Um, well since we are married, we were just going to do the date here so people don’t see us out in public.” Even though I still get highly upset at times about this whole marriage business, I would never do anything to hurt Cameron’s image. “I was gonna get Connie to leave early, and make my cheesy potato wedges and salsa chicken.”

Cameron looks about ready to explode. I don’t get it, considering he’s going on a date himself tonight, and probably with that witch, Becky. His face is heated—red.

“Yeah, that’s fine. I appreciate you asking me before you went through with it,” is all Cameron says before he brushes by me. Ten seconds later—I counted—he’s slamming the front door.

“I think that went well,” I whisper to myself. Why is he angry with me? I do anything he asks of me. I keep my mouth shut when he goes out. I don’t get it.