Swoon (11 page)

His eyebrows drew together. “Don’t you have something more… I don’t know. Maybe less… loud?”

I felt myself shrink a little. It sounded like something my mother might have said. But then my mind flashed back to Lawrence. Never once had he questioned my clothes, or my hair, or my opinion.

I squared my shoulders. “Have you been to many polo matches?”

“One or two.”

“Have you ever ridden polo?”

“No.” Justin shook his head.

“Okay then. Why don’t we let me decide if I’m dressed correctly?”

I stomped out my front door and waited for him at his car. His eyes were still studying me as he walked up.

“Are you going to act like this all night? Because this is a company party, and I don’t need any embarrassment.”

I huffed out a breath while I situated myself in the passenger seat, considering the idea that perhaps I wasn’t being fair. “I’m sorry. It’s just been a long day. I’m not sure what’s wrong.”

His eyes cut to me as he started the engine, but he didn’t respond.

In fact, we hardly spoke during the drive, all throughout the polo match and company party, and for the drive home. He barely introduced me to people, touched me twice, and never once brought me a drink. I’d spent most of my time sitting with a crew of wives, most of whom were nice, but I had nothing in common with them. Most specifically, I wasn’t a wife and certainly had no intention of becoming one anytime soon.

The air in his Mercedes on the drive home was uncomfortable. I felt myself fidgeting in my seat, ready to escape.

He pulled back into my drive and shut off the engine, opening his door to get out. I wasn’t expecting that. My eyes followed him as he walked up and waited at my front door. I slowly unbuckled myself and climbed out of the car, following him up. Finding my keys after a minute of scrounging around my purse, I unlocked the door and pushed it open. He followed me in.

I set my purse down and kicked my shoes off. “Do you want a drink or something?”

“Do you have some wine?”

I nodded and walked into the kitchen. I poured Justin a glass of Chardonnay but paused before pouring my own glass. Instead, I poured myself a tumbler of bourbon, the aroma instantly reminding me of Lawrence, and I wished I was anywhere else.

As I returned to the living room, Justin was seated on my couch, one ankle crossed over his knee, tapping his finger on his leg. I handed him his glass and sat in the love seat across from him.

He eyed my drink distastefully as we sipped in silence, the heat from the bourbon spreading warmth throughout my chest.

Finally, he stood and placed his glass on an end table. He walked over to me and pulled me to my feet. I eyed him warily, unsure of where this was going. He cupped my cheek with his hand, much like Lawrence had done earlier, but I didn’t feel any comfort. His face dipped down and he kissed me hard, roughly parting my lips with his tongue, groaning into me. I tried to respond appropriately, to feel something other than stiff and cold. I pushed at his chest to try to get some air, but his fingers tangled in my hair, tightening hard and holding me in place.

Alarm started to course through my veins. His free hand came up to grope my breast roughly, and I struggled in his grasp. He ripped his head away from mine, breathing harshly as he glared down into my wide eyes.

“What’s wrong with you?” he asked, jerking back on my head as he spoke.

“You’re hurting me,” I said breathlessly.

“You’re different,” he growled. “Why? Is it him?”

I slowly reached up and pried his fingers from my hair, which he allowed me to do, thankfully.

“I’m not different, Justin.” I took a step back and swallowed. “But you are.”

He spun around, running his fingers through his golden hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” He waved his hand around in a circle as if it could dismiss his behavior. “But you are different.”

I blew out a breath. “The past couple of months, the past year really, that’s when I’ve been different. Now I’m starting to feel like myself again. It’s just a me you haven’t been introduced to.”

“So you’ve just been lying to me?”

“I didn’t think you… cared.”

“Caring has nothing to do with it.” He continued to glare at me.

I blinked my eyes and sat back down cautiously, shaking off his last comment. “This past year has been really rough for me. My dad died and I got sued and then I found this job that I pretty much hate. My head hasn’t been in a very good place. I shouldn’t have started anything with you. I just thought I was convenient to you and it didn’t really… matter.”

He looked at me silently for a long moment, then finally spoke. “Yeah, I can see how wrong I was about you.”

Then he turned and walked out, not even bothering to shut the door.

I sat for a moment, breathing heavily after the exchange. As my heartbeat started to slow, I took note of… feeling. I’d been so numb. I’d numbed myself on purpose. Then Lawrence swooped in and suddenly… feelings. Fucking feelings.

I hugged my sweater tight around my chest, remembering the feel of Justin on my skin and suddenly wanting nothing more than a shower and a locked front door. I stood and walked over to it, using both arms to release a little aggression and slam it shut as hard as I could.

I yelped when it bounced back at me.

* * * *

Lawrence

I’d waited around all afternoon, trying to figure out what I was going to say to her. I made phone calls, had afternoon tea with the same damn client I took out to dinner, trying to get them to sign a frigging contract. Yes. Afternoon tea. For fuck’s sake. I deserved a raise.

Then I took Tina to dinner. I had to. She’d come with me to be my date for these meetings. Most of the time I did these things by myself, but depending on the client, a date helped smooth the waters. Unfortunately, she was getting a little clingy. It wasn’t like we were actually dating.

I’d dropped her off at the inn, giving her a vague excuse about something I needed to do. Which probably made me an asshole, but she knew what she’d signed on for. She left the car in a huff. She’d find ways of entertaining herself though.

I still didn’t know what I was going to say. I just needed to talk to her. To Steph. I needed to see her. I wanted to touch her. I needed to just be near her again. And I needed to figure out what had happened. What had happened to us that was so god-awful we had to spend all this time not speaking?

I pulled slowly onto the school grounds. She was teaching at a riding school. Crazy. I couldn’t even begin to understand how she’d gotten to this place. It was so far from what she wanted and from what she’d worked so hard for. What she’d dedicated her life to.

A dark car screeched past me on its way out, but I paid it no attention. I followed the directions Ethan gave me to park in front of a small staff house. All the lights were on, and the front door was hanging open.

I jumped up the steps and was just leaning my head in to see if she was in there when it smacked me right in the face.

Chapter 13

Steph

T
he instant I realized the towering form standing in my doorway rubbing his forehead was not Justin, I started to giggle. Uncontrollable, high-pitched, maniacal giggles coming from some deep and repressed place within my chest. I slid to the floor, leaning against the back of my couch, feeling Lawrence’s glare.

“The fuck, queenie?”

The giggles turned to tears, and he sank down beside me as I sobbed. His arm slid around my shoulders and pulled me into his lap as my emotions poured out painfully. It was the first time I’d really cried in… years, I thought.

How long we stayed that way, I had no idea. I might have even drifted off for a minute or two. I finally raised my head when I felt his lips press against my hair.

“You okay?”

I nodded, wiping my face with the sleeve of my sweater. His body tensed and shifted away from mine.

“What the hell is that?” His voice grew louder as he moved farther from me.

I blinked and looked down at myself, unsure what he was referring to. A long red mark disappeared down into the neckline of my dress. I hadn’t realized until then just how rough Justin had been.

I started to tremble as I thought back to my stupidity, my naivety. Lawrence’s arms tightened around me once more.

“Hey, seriously. Are you okay? You’re worrying me, sweetheart,” he mumbled into my hair.

I nodded again and pushed off him to stand, wobbly on my feet. He watched me cautiously as he stood as well.

“I’m fine,” I said, mostly reassuring myself. And I found that I really was. “It’s been a long day and a stupid night. I just need a shower. I’ll be all right after a shower.”

“Do you need help?”

I started to chuckle and pushed at his chest. He captured my hand in his.

“No, I don’t need help, you pervert.”

He cradled my hand in both of his and kissed my fingers. “I didn’t mean in the shower. Although I do live to serve.” The twinkle in his blue eyes made me realize how much I’d missed him. “I just meant… I don’t know what I meant, but is there something I can do?”

“No I’m good. You can”—I waved my free hand around—“make yourself at home, and I’ll be right out.”

He nodded and let me step away to wash off the ick from earlier.

I rinsed as fast as I could, the water scalding my skin in the best possible way. I dried and lotioned myself and walked into my bedroom wrapped in a towel. Where Lawrence was propped up in my bed, watching.

“Dude!” I screeched, laughing and clutching my towel tighter.

“I can’t believe you still have these sheets.” He waved a hand around my pink bed.

“I can’t believe you’re in my bed.”

He shrugged his shoulders. “You said for me to make myself at home. This is what I came up with.”

“You feel at home on my pink sheets?” I raised an eyebrow.

“No, I feel at home watching you come out of the shower.”

I snorted and grabbed some clothes from my dresser drawer, stomping back to the bathroom to change.

I returned to my room in an oversized sweatshirt and a baggy pair of sweatpants. Lawrence was still watching with amusement. He patted the bed next to him, and for some reason, I climbed right in, leaning my head on his shoulder.

“What are we doing?” I asked, staring straight ahead.

“Just talking.”

“Why are we in my bed?”

“Because it’s the only place that’s
you
in this entire house, so it’s the only place I feel comfortable.”

I turned to face him. “You don’t even know me. Not really. Not anymore.”

“I don’t think you even know yourself anymore.”

My body stiffened, his words hitting too close to home.

He rubbed a hand down my arm. “I’m not saying that to hurt you, Steph. But… what the fuck is going on? What are you doing to yourself? And what the fuck is that scratch down your chest?”

I let out a long sigh. “The scratch is just a scratch. It’s no big deal.”

“What about everything else?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well, let’s figure it out.”

I struggled out of the bed, stomping off into the kitchen for a drink.

“It’s not that easy, Lawrence,” I called over my shoulder. “Not everything is fixable.”

He called back from his place on my bed. “You’re right. Not everything is. But this is.”

I returned to the bedroom with two beers, passing one over to him and sitting cross-legged on the end of the bed, facing him.

“What, exactly, needs to be fixed?”

“You do.” He tipped his bottle at me before taking a long swallow.

“That’s horribly offensive.”

“Truth hurts.”

“Why are you here?” I raised my voice, exasperated.

He just looked at me for a second, then said, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you, Steph. Since last summer. Even when I shouldn’t have. Seeing you last night… everything came rushing back. When I touched you… it all came back. I want it back.”

“We can’t go back, Lawrence. I can’t. It’s too much.”

“I’m not talking about going back. I’m talking about helping you move forward.”

“I don’t need help.” I shook my head.

“Yes. You do. You’re a wreck.”

I started to laugh. “You’re such an asshole.”

“If my being an asshole means you get your shit together, then I’m fine with that.”

I considered his words for a moment. “Everything’s messed up,” I finally confessed. “And it’s my own fault.”

“So fix it.”

I rolled my eyes. “You and the fixing. Life doesn’t work that way.”

“It can. If you stop fucking wallowing.”

I flinched and felt anger creeping through my veins. “Wallowing? Really? Do you understand the shit storm I went through? I couldn’t walk through town without getting stares and whispers. My mistake caused a woman to almost lose her business, and that kid could have died.”

“But did he die?” Lawrence’s voice started to rise to match mine.

“No. But my dad did,” I shot back.

Silence.

“And how do you feel about that?”

“Oh, fuck you.” I rolled my eyes and started to push off the bed, but Lawrence leaned forward to grab my thigh, holding me in place.

“I mean it. How do you feel about your dad?”

“I don’t care!”

“Bullshit.”

“My dad was an asshole. I barely knew him.”

“It still hurts. How’s your mom?”

I shook my head. “I don’t even know. I can’t imagine she was too broken up about things. They weren’t even married anymore.”

Lawrence blinked a few times. “That’s fucked up.”

I threw up my hands. “See? That’s my point. It’s really fucked up. I’m allowed to be fucked up. It’s not normal that I should be okay coming out of a situation like that.”

“You have a point.”

“I know.”

“But you also have a choice.”

I sighed and moved his hand off my thigh, however much I wanted it there. I turned around and hung my legs off the side of the bed.

“I have a job here. A life.”

“You hate it. A life? What kind of life is this?”

I shook my head in confusion. “I mean, I’m alive. I live here. I do my job. I breathe… my heart beats. Life.”

He stared at me hard. “There’s so much more to life than that, Steph. You think I don’t know that? You think I haven’t lost in life? Fuck.” He threw up his hands. “Your soul. That’s what matters. Whether or not your heart is beating is just physical. It’s a muscle you don’t even control. That’s nothing to take pride in. But your soul and your mind—now those… those are impressive things to change. Those are elements that… move me.”

I shrugged, though his words made my little black heart flutter and my stomach clench and rebel. My mind was racing, but my mouth didn’t get the memo. “It doesn’t really matter. I have a contract here. I don’t really have anywhere else to go. Anything else to do.”