Shattered Heart (The Hart Series) (11 page)

I want to take
my time with her, I want to make her mine again, and the look on her face makes
my dick so hard it hurts.  I brush her hair behind her ear and continue to
graze my fingers down her jaw.  “You’re so beautiful.” 

She clutches my
hand and turns it to place a kiss on my palm.  “I’m sorry, Alex…for the other
day…for everything.”  Releasing my hand, she reaches up, and brushes her
fingers against my cheek.   I lean into her touch, closing my eyes before
breathing her in. 

“I can feel how
much you want me, Hart.  Why are you fighting this?” I plead.

“Before you left
I asked you to give me time, right?”  I nod, keeping my eyes closed, foreheads
attached, in fear this is, yet again, coming to an end.  “I still need that
time, Alex.  It was wrong of me to completely ignore you and it was even worse
coming to New York and giving into you.  It’s no secret I want you.  I think my
body pretty much gives it away, but that doesn’t change the fact that I need
time to figure out what to do with everything that I’ve been handed.” 

I can’t look at
her.  If I look at her, I’ll want to break something. 
Everything she’s been
handed?  What the fuck does that mean?
  I’ve been handed much worse and you
don’t find me cowering away.  Instead of giving into the anger, I tilt my head
back and look to the ceiling.  “I don’t get it, Elyssa.  I really don’t.  You
said you still love me.”

“It has nothing
to do with love, Alex.” 
The hell it doesn’t!

“Ughhh…you can’t
say it, can you?”  Frustration laced with annoyance and sadness is not a good
look on me, but this is what it boils down to.  “Are you confused about your
feelings for Oliver?”  Fuck me if she says yes.  Time, I can deal with.  Her
being scared, I can also deal with.  But her exploring her feelings for another
guy…over my dead fucking body I’ll let another man touch her.

“When you
accused me of having something with Oliver, I was so angry with you.  But not
for reasons you think.  I slapped you because you thought I could replace you
that quick.  That what
we
had didn’t mean anything to me.”

“I see the way
he looks at you.”  It frustrates the hell out of me the way he eye fucks her
every time he sees her.  It makes me want to kiss every inch of her, rub myself
against her, bury myself so deep inside her so that any man, including Oliver,
no, especially Oliver, will know that she’s mine.  “For now, I don’t see you
looking at him that way, but I’m telling you right now, Elyssa, I refuse to let
that change.  I’m not giving up on us.  You may be confused or scared or
whatever it is that you feel right now, but I’m not.  I’m certain.  I knew the minute
I saw you that I wanted you.  I knew the moment I kissed you that I had to have
you and I knew the second we were first together that I wanted forever.  So,
listen to me when I say this.  I’m not giving up.”

She bites her
lower lip before leaning in, placing one final kiss against my lips.  “I’m not
asking you to give up.  I’m just asking for time.” 

Remember what I
said about time.  Well, time can go fuck itself.

Face flushed and
stumbling, I hurry out of the men’s restroom.  I must have the worst of luck
because just two steps out, I see Oliver walking towards me.  I panic.  Even
though his face is an unreadable mask, I don’t take a chance and rush to meet
him.  I hope to God he didn’t see me leaving the bathroom, better yet, let’s
hope Alex required a few minutes before walking out.  The last thing I need is
another Alex versus Oliver confrontation.

“Ely, what’s
going on?” he questions, with an odd expression.  I have to give it to him. 
I’d ask me the same question if I was yanked in the opposite direction, locked
arms with a crazy person.  I don’t give up anything until we’re in the privacy
of the small copy room.  Alone.

“What’s up?”  I
cross my arms over my chest protectively as Oliver tilts his head, looking at
me with confusion. 

“Nothing.  What’s
up with you?” 

“What did you
need?”  I purposely chose the copy room because it’s at the opposite end of
Alex’s office and because I’m a nervous ball of confusion.  I keep peeking over
Oliver’s shoulder hoping that Alex doesn’t stride by.  I can’t help my foot
from tapping against the tile beneath me.  Oliver continues to look at me in
speculation.

He grins as he
rests his side against the copier machine.  “What makes you think I need
something?” 

“Well, you were
coming to see me, right?”  Silence.  “Were you not?”

“Not unless
you’re located inside my pants.”  I give him a lopsided look as he bursts out
in laughter.  He tries to hold the serious look on his face, but loses control
almost instantly.  “I was headed to the bathroom, but you dragged my ass in
here.”  He slaps his hands against his thighs, leaning over breathless. 

“Misunderstanding,
never mind.”  I can’t keep the blush from my face, and because I’m me, I try to
escape.  But trying to blow off Oliver has always been a little more difficult
than it should be. 
Determined little fucker.
  Right when I step towards
the door, he stops me with his body and his loud mouth.

“Wait!” Oliver
barks while he grabs my elbow.  His eyes search my face for a hint of what has
me all riled up.  We’ve gotten closer over the past few weeks and he’s
freakishly intuitive.  So before he can accuse me of anything, I eye his hand
wrapped around my arm anxiously. 
  

“Yah?”  I turn
to him, trying to curve my nervousness.  He has to sense it, my unease and skittish
behavior.  He knows, he must smell Alex all over me.

“What are you
doing to celebrate Thanksgiving?”  Okay…definitely not what I expected him to
say.

“Do people
really celebrate Thanksgiving?  Isn’t it just another reason to stuff our faces
and gain ten pounds during the holidays?”

 “What are you? 
A Thanksgiving scrooge?”

“And what are
you?  A damn pilgrim who saved Thanksgiving?”

“No, I’m the guy
whose car is in the shop and is stuck in Vegas when all he really wants is to
head back home to his family.” 

Dang.  Now I
feel somewhat guilty for my smart comment.  It’s not that I don’t like
holidays, in fact I used to love every single one of them when my parents were
still alive.  And although I love that Rachel tries to replicate the holidays
from our childhood, it’s just not the same.  Something always seems to be
missing.

“Okay, so if you
can’t go home, what
are
you doing for Thanksgiving?”  I never considered
while he uprooted himself, for me no less, that he would essentially be on his
own.

“I don’t know
that’s why I was asking you.  I figured I’d grab some food from one of the
restaurants and didn’t know if you had plans or not.” 

“Seriously,
Oliver?  Why didn’t you tell me?  You can’t spend Thanksgiving alone.”  The
holidays may not be my favorite anymore, but I’d beat myself up if I found out
one of my friends was alone.

“Well, since you
aren’t into being festive, how about we skip the entire thing together.  You
can slave over a dinner for us and we can hole ourselves up in my apartment for
the day and watch movies and stuff our faces.  What do ya say?”  You can see
his eyes bursting with excitement as he pushes away from the copier machine,
bouncing from one foot to another, anxious for my answer.

I smirk at his
offer.  Although tempting, Rachel would have my ass if I even considered it. 
“Nice try.  But, what about you come with me to my sister’s house?  She always
makes too much of everything.  I know she won’t mind.”

“Taking me home
to meet the family, huh?”  Oliver wags his eyebrows teasingly.

Leave it to
Oliver to change a friendly gesture into something more profound.   I roll my
eyes and cross my arms over my chest.  “Don’t push your luck, buddy.” 

“Alright,
alright.  You gonna pick me up?”

I nod before
turning and glancing at him over my shoulder.  “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at
three.”

Thursday, November 22, 2012

Knock! Knock!
Knock!

With a bouquet
of autumn flowers in one hand and a green bean casserole in the other, I sneak
a glance to my right.  Oliver stares at the door with a bottle of red wine
clutched tightly with a large nervous grin on his face.  I think it’s pretty
endearing that he’s actually anxious.  Right now I wish I was Inspector Gadget
and had Go-Go-Gadget arms so I could have an available limb to take a picture
of this moment.  I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him like this. 

And it wouldn’t
be our relationship if I passed up the chance to take a dig at him.  Bumping
into his arm, I whisper, “Are you okay?  You look a little pale.”

“I’m not
nervous,” he scoffs.  He adjusts the collar of his shirt as if there’s an
imaginary button constricting the air to his lungs.  He scrunches his face and
takes a large breath of air as he dismisses the notion. 

I chuckle at the
exact moment Bryan opens the door with his plastered smile.  Except that when
his eyes move from me to my dinner companion, his large smile fades into a
glare.  No greetings or salutations, nothing.  No, instead Bryan folds his arms
and straightens his spine, planting a grimace on his face. 

Oliver doesn’t
seem fazed as he reaches out his hand to greet him.  “Hey, you must be Rachel’s
boyfriend.  It’s nice to meet you.”

Again,
completely out of character Bryan goes from glaring at Oliver’s face to glaring
at his extended hand. 
What is with him?
  He’s treating Oliver as if he
has a communicable disease.  I shove the casserole into Bryan’s stiff chest and
lean in for a partial hug, hoping to break the awkward introduction.   
“Oliver, Bryan. Buttface, Oliver.”

“Buttface?” 
Oliver questions.

“She thinks
she’s funny.”  Bryan points to his dimpled chin. 

I shove past him
and into the house.  I leave Oliver to awkwardly slide past the large scowling
man, who I apparently don’t know anymore. 
Men.

Ah Fuck.
   My heart
stops when I realize why Bryan has his panties in such a bunch.  The downstairs
guest bathroom opens, revealing a sexy as sin Alex standing in the doorway. 
Somewhat casual, Alex has dark blue jeans and a simple white button up shirt. 
His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows.  His expression is playful and soft up
until the moment he sees Oliver walking in.  Then a murderous glare along with
a look of disbelief is teeter tottered between the two of us.  The tension in
his forearms reveals the control he’s trying to exude as he stands staring in
shock. 

Awkwardly, all
four of us remain in silence for what feels like eternity.  My eyes move from
Oliver, standing with a large taunting grin, to Alex who isn’t hiding an ounce
of ill will toward Oliver, to Bryan who’s now holding back a laugh as he looks
between the three of us holding my casserole.  I hold back the temptation to
punch him in the arm to wipe that smirk off his face.  And just when I thought
things couldn’t get any worse, Rachel comes skipping along from the kitchen
squealing with delight. 

“El…we have a
surprise for yo-…”  Her face drops as she joins the party happening in the
front entry of her house. 
Yah su-fucking-prise Rachel! 
Coming closer
to take the flowers from my hands, Rachel brings me in for a hug and whispers
in my ear, “Uhhhh El, you didn’t tell me you were bringing someone with you.” 

I whisper back
through clenched teeth, “You didn’t tell me you were inviting anyone.”  We both
plaster fake smiles when we turn to the three men staring at us.

“Well,” Rachel
yells, “The more the merrier.”  She grabs Bryan by the elbow and hauls him to
the kitchen.  “Green beans…yummm….my favorite,” she again yells over her
shoulder in an all too high pitched sarcastic tone.  Rachel hates green beans
and that is precisely why I bring them.  “Be right back.”  I can hear her
whispering to Bryan as they both flee the room.  I’m sure they’re tweaking
their scheming ways.  Yippee. 

And then there
were three. 
Fuck. My. Life.
 

I stand, once
again in between Alex and Oliver, feeling more and more like that damn rope
between the both of them.  The tension is causing a burning sensation all over
my skin.  Oliver’s hands are tucked behind his back, smug grin on his face,
while Alex’s hands fist at his side, his stone cold glare hitting the room like
an ice brick.  I almost feel like a third wheel and wonder if they even realize
I’m still standing here.

“What is he
doing here?” Alex breaks the silence, tilting his chin in Oliver’s direction. 
His jaw tenses as he waits for an answer.  I know he’s asking me, but nothing
comes out.  My mouth continues to open and shut, but no words escape my lips. 
Again, trying for an answer I open my mouth, but Oliver decides to answer for
me.

“Ely Bean here invited
me.”  Oliver glances in my direction glowing at me.  I don’t know how he does
it, but with the death stare Alex is giving him, Oliver seems cool as a
cucumber.  “Question is what are
you
doing here?”