A Fine Mess (Over the Top) (24 page)

I shake my head, Raven always quick to reel in the men. “If you don’t teach, what will you do?”

She shrugs, still eyeing the man-candy at the bar. “Maybe pursue my photography. Not sure the best way to go about it, but I could apprentice somewhere, then branch out on my own. I just have to make sure I can earn a living.”

Suddenly serious, Shay leans forward. “This might sound nuts, but we could do something together.”

Raven swirls her wineglass. “Like what?”

“Not sure, exactly. But I haven’t been happy at the firm, and my mind’s been all over the place, trying to decide what to do. I was at an opening for a store a colleague designed, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how much cooler the Moondog reception was. Then I was picturing designing spaces for elaborate parties.”

“You mean event planning?” Raven asks.

Shay nods. “It’s probably a crazy idea.”

Raven taps her fingers on the table. “I’ve heard crazier. I could photograph the parties. It could be a package deal or something. But I suck at organizational stuff.”

They turn my way.

“What?”

Shay’s so excited she bounces on her seat. “You helped pull together the opening in Toronto. You’re great at organizing things, and we could make our events really creative. Offer something more dynamic. We’d all have to earn money elsewhere. For a while, at least. But we could start small and do it on the side.”

I sip my wine, more excited than I should be at the prospect. “But I don’t live here.”

“You were thinking about moving for Sawyer,” Raven says. “Why not move here for your girls? How much fun would it be working together?”

My mind jumps forward, envisioning the three of us pulling together stunning events with cool themes. Helping organize the Moondog opening was a blast, and researching bands and browsing flower stores put my shopping to good use. I’d never give up my design work completely, but there are so many ways to be creative. “Let me think about it.”

When Sawyer and I were together, I was thrilled with the prospect of moving to Vancouver. Not just escaping the farmhouse and my issues. I loved the idea of living by the sea, less snow in the winter, a more laid-back vibe, having the ocean, mountains, and beach at my fingertips. The dream doesn’t have to disappear; I could do it on my own.

If I listen to my heart and forgive Sawyer, I could still do it with him.

The girls are chatting, but I can’t focus on anything but this choice. This momentous decision. Letting Sawyer back in my life would be a risk, but life isn’t about playing it safe. I’d find a therapist here and fly home to visit my folks. And Shay’s right: no matter what happens, I have my friends, especially if we’re in the same city. The music gets louder, my heart thumping in my ears. Sawyer messed up. He hurt me. But he apologized, and I’ve missed him like crazy. If I forgive him, I get to wrap my arms around him. Kiss him. Touch him.

Live my life for the future instead of holding on to stories past.

Thoughts of the girls and him and possibilities lift my spirits, my decision suddenly clear. I
want
to forgive him. I
want
him in my life. I reach for my phone to text Sawyer, to tell him I’m ready to talk, but Kolton approaches our table. “Mind if we join you?”

We?
I nearly jump out of my seat to talk to Sawyer, but all I see is Nico’s enormous body. The guy is a wall of muscle.

“One of you can,” Raven mutters.

She leans forward and glares at Shay on the other side of me, who whispers back, “I didn’t know they were coming.”

At the sight of the two men, my excitement deflates. I place my phone on my lap. Sawyer said he wouldn’t give up, but he’s not here. Maybe my reaction hurt him too much. Maybe he needed more. Next to me, Raven scowls, tension rolling off her in waves, enough to distract me from my turmoil. This is the second time she’s seen Nico since Aspen, the first being at the opening of Moondog in Toronto, where she avoided him all night.

Doesn’t look like she’ll manage that this evening.

Drinks in hand, Kolton slides into Shay’s side of the booth and kisses her cheek. Nico squeezes in beside him, his bulk making the rest of us shift over. Raven doesn’t glance his way. In fact, she resumes making sexy eyes with the blond man at the bar.

“Excuse me,” she says. She pushes up from the end of the booth and shakes out her long black hair, her body looking killer in her black jeans, black heels, and black strapless top, all her ink exposed. Nico, who hasn’t said a word, takes an eyeful.

Shay leans on her elbows and says to Nico, “I don’t know what happened in Aspen, but she has a serious hate-on for you.”

Nico peels his eyes off Raven as she flirts with the man at the bar. “I noticed.”

“A little FYI,” she says. “Raven is moving here. You need to fix whatever’s wrong if you plan on hanging out with us.”

He freezes midsip of his beer and lowers his drink. “You serious?”

“Apparently.”

Again, he glances at the bar, this time licking his lips. “When is she moving?”

“After her school year is done. Probably July.”

Raven’s man of the hour slides a hand around her waist, and Nico turns his back on the show, frown in place. He chugs his beer.

Kolton drapes his arm over Shay’s shoulder. “You must be excited.”

Beaming, she nods. “Can’t wait.”

They talk about the best places to help Raven apartment hunt while Nico broods, and I keep glancing at the door, hoping Sawyer will walk in. But he doesn’t. I don’t ask Kolton why he didn’t come. I don’t want to hear the answer. Then my phone vibrates. I pick it up from my lap and glance down.

Sawyer.

If you forgive me, I’ll eat an oyster for every day we were apart.

The music becomes white noise, the bar and the people fading to the background. All I hear is my hammering heart. More messages appear:

I’ll burn my comic collection.

I’ll trade my car in for a Yaris.

I’ll give away my samurai sword.

The pounding in my chest intensifies, my heart desperate to be near him.
I’m
desperate to be near him.
Where are you?
I text.

Outside.

I shove my phone in my purse and turn to Shay. “Sawyer’s outside. You okay if I leave?”

She grins. “Go. I’m here if you need me.”

Kolton runs a hand down his long hair. “He’s been a mess since you guys broke up. Worse than I was with Shay. Go easy on him.”

She elbows his side. “You were a miserable ass while we were apart and couldn’t survive without me.” She faces me. “
Don’t
go easy on him. Give him the hell he deserves, then make up.”

With that advice I say good-bye to Nico and interrupt Raven to let her know, too. Then I hurry out the door so fast I slip in my wedge heels. Breathing hard, I smooth my white lace dress, the short skirt swinging around my thighs. Gooseflesh flares down my bare arms as I search the busy street. No Sawyer in sight. A bus is in front of me, cars parked along the curb, groups of people chatting as they head to bars and restaurants. But no Sawyer.

Then the bus pulls away.

Sawyer is across the street, thumbs hooked in his front pockets, leaning on his black Dodge, his brown eyes locked on me. The end of
Sixteen Candles
plays in my mind with Jake resting on his red Porsche to surprise Samantha, and my belly flutters. I don’t hesitate. I don’t second-guess my choice. Love is as controllable as the weather, and his honesty this morning washed away my reservations. Dodging people and cars, I run across the street.

“You look beautiful,” he says when I’m beside him. Then, “Do they sell oysters in there? Because I wasn’t lying. I might puke, but I’ll eat a bucketful.” It’s dark out, the streetlights and businesses along the street casting his face in light and shadow. He smiles as he jokes, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

I’m ready to forgive him, to move forward with our lives, but there has to be ground rules. One rule, really. “Remember, at my folks’ place, when I kept telling you there was no way you could love me?” He nods, and I go on, “You fought me on it, saying I had no right to tell you what you could and couldn’t feel.”

“Yeah…” He rocks on his feet, drawing out the word.

“It’s the same for me. If I say yes, if I open my heart again, it’s not up to you to decide what is and isn’t good for me. As much as you wish you were, you’re not a superhero. You don’t get to save me from you or your family. If I let myself love you, my heart’s not yours to throw away. I won’t go through that again.”

He moves forward and presses my back into his car, his body tight to mine. I nearly burn up, my lust for him making me feverish, but I need to hear the words.

Gone is his goofiness, honesty and conviction in its place. “I swear to God, I’ll never pull that shit again. If I’m having doubts, if I’m worried, I’ll come to you. We’ll talk it out. I love you, and if you give me another chance, I’ll spend every day proving it. Please, Lil, say you forgive me, that you’ll give me another chance. I love you so fucking much.”

His words are like a light switch to my world. My fever rises, heating my chest and neck, my body alive with want. All his power pins me to the car, and I slide my hands down his hips. “I love you, too. Never stopped.”

He cups my jaw, twining his fingers behind my neck. “Please tell me that’s a yes. That you’ll give this another shot.”

“I’m still nervous, but yes…definitely yes.”

He exhales for an eternity. “Thank God.”

I lick my lips, desperate to get drunk on the taste of him, but as he leans toward me, I shove my hand between our mouths.

“I thought you said yes,” he says against my palm.

“I did.”

“Then what’s this? I totally mouthwashed before driving here, and if you don’t let me kiss you soon something bad will happen. There’s a lot of pent-up shit going on in my body. It’s worse than when I was thirteen.”

He licks my palm, so I tug it back. “I never got the glittery reunion.”

Instead of backing off, he drags his nose up my neck. “Babe, I will bathe in glitter if it means I get to kiss you, but I’ll need more details to make that happen.”

I sigh as he kisses me below my ear, his tongue sneaking a taste. “I’ve been watching a lot of John Hughes movies, and fantasizing about you, which I probably shouldn’t admit because you deserve to suffer.”

His hips press closer, and I nearly die. “You can torture me all you want,” he says. “But let’s get back to these fantasies of yours. Do tell.”

Embarrassed, I focus on his chest. “Aside from the makeup sex, I imagined us running at each other. You spinning me around. There’s kissing. Lots of kissing. And there might have been glitter and roses.”

He chuckles, his breath traveling down the neckline of my dress.

Maybe I don’t need the reunion.

“The makeup sex marathon will happen,
that
I promise. The rest sounds like something Hazel would choreograph, but we’ll manage.” He steps away and gestures across the street. “Haul your cute ass over there. I got this.”

“Really?”

“Believe it.” When I jump and squeal, he says, “You’re so cute, I want to bite you. Now get over there.”

Jogging on the spot in my heels, I wait for a break in traffic and hurry to the other side, shifting from foot to foot when I’m ready. “Now?” I call.

“Nope.”

One car passes. Two. “Now?”

Smirking, he folds his arms and leans on his car. “I’m getting in the zone.”

“You’re not playing fair.”

“I’m not the one who shoved their hand between a perfectly good kiss.”

“Now?”

“Soon.”

“I’m dying.”

“Serves you right.” When I slump and throw my head back, he calls, “Now!”

I jump and run forward as he strides across the street, his hand held up to stop the approaching cars. Brakes screech, horns honk, and we collide as he grabs me by my ribs and lifts me up, up, up. We’re every ending to every romantic comedy. We’re glitter and roses. We’re love finding its way home. He spins me around, a look of pure devotion on his face. “You’re gonna get so sick of me.”

As he lowers me down against his body, I whisper, “Not a chance.”

Then we kiss.

And kiss.

And kiss.

The drive to my place is totally unsafe. My foot is heavy on the gas, I barely focus on the road, and I jerk the wheel. All because:
Lily, Lily, Lily.
It gets so bad, I pull over once and drag her on top of me. Her dress rides up, all that soft skin mine to touch. To kiss. To worship. She grinds down on me, as desperate as I am to shed the layers between us.

Fuck, do I love this girl.

We maul each other on the elevator ride to my loft. If there’s a camera in here, someone’s getting an eyeful, but I don’t give a damn; she’s solid in my hands, alive against my mouth. I’ve dreamed of her so often the past months, waking hard from the imagined feel of her, the real thing is almost too much. Too perfect. Better than perfect.

We stagger out at my floor, and she steps to the side as I fumble with my keys, my balls so tight, basic coordination is a challenge. When she drags her hands under my shirt and over my abs, her pinky slipping below the band of my jeans, I let my forehead hit my still-closed door.

A gravelly “Christ” rumbles from my throat.

I thought perfect was driving Vancouver’s Sea to Sky Highway, or a sun-drenched day fishing, or pushing my legs and lungs on an intense bike ride.

Lily’s hands on my body puts it all to shame.

A few attempts later, I get my key in the lock and kick the door shut behind us. She tries to look at my place, craning her neck to study the open loft and glass-partitioned bedroom. I don’t give her a chance. Not when she’s here. In my apartment. My life. I’m not sure I deserve her, but I don’t really care. From this moment forward, all my energy will be spent proving my love.

Starting with a string of orgasms.

I walk her toward my bedroom, unzipping the back of her dress as I go. It falls to the floor, pink lace bra and underwear beneath. Aloha, Lily.

“You got sexier.”

A shy grin sweeps across her face. “You, too. But I feel underdressed. You need to join me.”

Grabbing the back of my T-shirt, I pull it over my head, her hands on my button and fly, then dragging my jeans down. She wastes no time with my boxers, my dick springing to attention for her. Only ever for her. She moans softly and feathers her fingers over my hip bones. “Girls go crazy for these.”

I struggle to find my voice. “For what?”

“These lines, the defined V that leads down.” She follows the deep grooves until she’s fisting my dick.

My abs tense, the smallest squeeze from her rocketing down my spine.

I pull her against me as I unlatch her bra. “I only care what one girl thinks.”

I kiss her neck, her shoulder, her collarbone. I’m dying to suck a line down the backs of her legs, across her wrists. Mark every part of her as mine. I span my hands over her ribs, so tiny in my grasp, and I chart a course downward, hooking my fingers into her pink underwear, kneeling as I slip them over her feet. I grip her ass and kiss her strawberry birthmark, her legs quivering as she clutches my shoulders. I can’t wait another second. Need her like nothing I’ve ever known. She’s it for me. My girl. My lover. My best friend. The source of all my superpowers.

I stand, and we kiss our way to my low-slung bed, her creamy skin like heaven against my navy sheets. I cup her tits and write love letters with my tongue, pulling whimpers from her belly. I don’t want to fuck her or have meaningless sex. I want it deep and slow, savoring every second, dragging out the ecstasy until we can’t handle the burn.

First, there’s a matter to address.

I hover over her, all that white-blond hair fanned over my pillow. “I got tested after Belize and haven’t been near another woman since.” Here comes the question, the one I’ve lain awake dreading since I walked out of her life. “Have you been with anyone?”

She lifts her hands and traces my eyes, my cheekbones, my lips. “No,” she says. “There was only ever you.”

The heavens open up. Angels sing. Praying to multiple porcelain gods must have worked in my favor.

Then she says, “Don’t use a condom. I’m still on the pill.”

Make that a choir of angels. She’ll be my first, and hopefully my last. The only girl I’ll ever sink into bare, absolutely reborn. I nudge her thighs apart, my dick as hard as it’s ever been. Needing to watch, I sit on my heels and pull her toward me, her legs falling wide. I rub the flat of my thumb over her clit, pushing her wetness around until she rocks against my hand. “So beautiful,” I murmur as she inches closer and lifts her hips. A question. A demand. She probably thinks she wants me as much as I’m aching for her. She doesn’t have a clue.

I position myself at her entrance. Then I push in. Hotter. Wetter. There’s nothing between us. No bullshit. No lies. Just her and me and the rest of our lives. One deep thrust and we’re flush, my bare cock so far inside her the room disappears. I fall forward onto my elbows, needing my skin against hers. “I love you,” I say.

“So much,” she replies, her eyes swimming with emotion.

I’m Superman. The Flash. Green Lantern. Daredevil. Captain America.

I am Sawyer West, forever owned by Lily Roberts.

With a kiss I roll my hips, slow, controlled, our bodies fusing. She latches her legs around my waist, pulls my hair, and rocks with me. Like we’re on that paddleboard, waves below us. The rise and fall. The gentle sway. Sweet perfection. I drag my length through her, each time sinking deeper, pressing closer. If she weren’t so small, I’d lower my full weight on top of her. “Love,” I whisper each time we connect, and “Always” and “Sorry” and “Mine, mine, mine.”

“Yours,” she answers.

Kissing gets messy, our heavy breaths allowing the brushing of lips and flicking of tongues. Our rhythm builds, the heat around my cock flooding my brain with all things Lily. So wet. So hot. Nothing between us. Her walls pulse around me as she nears her release. Grinding deeper, I keep our hips flush. I rock harder into her, my dick and pelvis hitting the right spots. Her nails scrape my shoulders, her head back and eyes heavy. “I’m so close. I can’t…” Her words trail off as she falls.

And falls.

And falls.

I catch her. I always will.

Then I follow.

My orgasm rips through me, each of her contractions tearing her name from my chest. I pump into her until I’m spent. Gone. Completely done for. I don’t pull out. I cover her body with mine. We whisper and kiss, our hearts pounding in time.
Always. Forever.
Never again will I push her away. Never succumb to my fear. Never lose this perfect connection.

Superpower wish: immortality,
spend ten lifetimes making Lily happy.

I keep our hands clasped as I drive to Brighton Lake, some part of me touching her for the whole two-hour drive. My mission: Shock and Awe. Overwhelm Lily with spectacular displays of affection to paralyze her fears and ensure she feels only love when she looks at me. No reservations. No insecurities about when I’ll screw up next. The mission included waking her up twice last night and kissing my way down her body this morning.

I’m pretty sure she’s on board with the assignment.

As we cruise toward our destination, she says, “Your car is hot.”

“Are you flirting with me?”

“I know your weakness.”

That she does. “Is that why you forgave me? Because you have a thing for my car?”

“Definitely,” she says, laughing.

I shrug. “I’ll take what I can get.”

I’m in my usual jeans and T-shirt, while Lily looks delicious in her loose linen pants and a cropped tank that barely covers her belly, long necklaces layered on top. She leans into her seat and grins at me. “I love
you
, but your ride is seriously sexy. Maybe we can park somewhere.”

I wink at her as the mountains loom closer, the lake a few minutes away. “You’ve nailed that telepathy thing.”

If she really
could
read my mind, she’d probably freak out with what I’m about to do. Thing is, I’m impulsive. Greedy. I know what I want, and I won’t risk losing her again. At its basics, love is a transaction—every kiss and touch a deposit, mutual support a down payment. If you invest wisely, the payoff is tenfold. I plan on going all in and scoring big.

We pull into the parking area, and I turn off the engine. A half-dozen cars are spread out, some tents visible through the trees at our left, the calm lake ahead. The picnic tables are empty, white-capped peaks encasing the area. Serene. Quiet. Exactly as I remember it.

Lily squeezes my hand. “You okay?”

“I haven’t been here since I was seven. The few decent memories I have of my father were here, though. We’d boat down the lake, then sit for hours. Fishing. Talking. Not talking. It’s where Finn and I learned to love the water and marine life.” After my talk with my mom, I knew I needed to come here—the perfect place to quiet my mind, reassess family relationships, plan my future with the woman at my side.

Lily shifts in her seat and angles toward me, still clasping my hand. “Have you spoken to him since that night, since everything with your mom?”

I shake my head. “No. I will. Soon. I thought coming here would help. You know, remembering something decent about the guy instead of focusing on how I’ve treated him, and all the lies.”

“Looks like we both have uncomfortable parent conversations ahead.” When I frown at her, she adds, “I haven’t told mine about the farmhouse yet. I keep putting it off.”

As angry as I am at myself for pushing Lily away, I’m busting with pride at how well she’s done: seeing her therapist, talking to her friends, beginning the difficult process of donating things. All on her own. Last night we talked until our eyes got heavy. Followed by Shock and Awe. This drive has been needed, solitary time to catch up. Our own therapy. The good. The bad. For me mostly bad. From now on we get to weather storms together, especially since she’s agreed to move here and work at Moondog part-time.

I kiss the back of her hand. “I’ll come for moral support, if you want.”

“No. These are conversations we both need to have on our own. Knowing I have you in my corner helps, though.”

“Always.”

We watch a family of ducks waddle across the grass, then I grab her waist and haul her over the center console as I shove the door open. It’s not a smooth move. No “Rico Suave” points. Her leg gets stuck on the steering wheel, and her butt drags on the seat.

She squeals and shouts, “
Sawyer,
” until I have her on her feet. Then, “What are you doing?” She rubs her ass and attempts to scowl at me. So damn cute.

“I prefer to touch you at all times. If you went out the other door, that would’ve been, like, thirty seconds apart.”

She rolls her eyes, my favorite Lily move. “That might be awkward when I use the ladies’ room.”

“I’m not shy.”

Another eye roll. “And me flying back home? How do you plan to deal with that?”

Not a pleasant prospect. She’ll have to go back, organize her life before she moves in with me, but the thought of being apart from her again thins the air in my lungs. I press her against my car, our bodies flush. “By not letting you go.” I’m all for denial.

An intense make-out session later, I grab my bag and lead her toward the motorboat I rented. A woodpecker hammers a tune, the trill of a warbler weaving around the beats. The only sign of other campers is a wisp of smoke through the trees, the smell of ash and fire sharp in the fresh air. I picture Finn and me running toward the beach and crashing into the water with our clothes on, my father hollering at us while laughing. I remember the pride on his face when I’d reel in a fish, and how his attention puffed up my chest. I remember being happy.

I help Lily off the dock and into the boat, then I power it up. I make her sit on my lap for the ride, and my dick wakes up. Of course. Amused, she wriggles around until I latch my arm around her. As much as I’d like to get naked outdoors, the mountains at our backs, that’s not what this outing is about. She needs to know I’m serious. That I’ll love her and stand by her no matter what comes our way. I eye the bag I brought along and try not to give anything away with my smile.

As I round the final bend and cut the engine, she looks up, and her mouth drops open. “It’s so beautiful.”

“It is,” I say, my eyes full of her.

She takes in the thick pine forest and mountains and rocky shore, the blue sky and soft clouds reflected in the clear water. Nature. Life at its essence. Healthy. Alive. It’s cooler on the water, the intermittent sun warming my face. I ease her up to her feet, pull her to the center of the boat, then we straddle the bench.

I scoot forward until her knees are between my thighs, her hands tight in mine. “Remember in Belize, when I talked about climate change? How one degree difference in the arctic creates chaos?”

She inches closer. “Yeah.”

“I always think of this place and how precious it is. How everything is connected. Without the sun, the algae wouldn’t grow and produce oxygen. The fish wouldn’t eat the algae and release carbon dioxide through their gills. The plants would suffer. The animals that eat the plants would die. One thing doesn’t work without the other.” From our vantage point, the water looks clear, no hint of the fragile world floating below.

Her gray eyes shine, her pupils wide with question. I grab my bag, unzip the front pocket, and pull out a white box. By the time I look up, her hand is at her mouth. “Sawyer,” she whispers, and nothing else.

I open the lid, and she gasps. “Thing is, Lil, you’re my sun. You’re the start of everything. Nothing works without you. I lose you, and the rest is chaos. I know I fucked up, and I still need to prove myself, so I’m not asking you to marry me today. I’m asking for a promise.” Her hand trembles, a tear threatening to fall, but she doesn’t speak. I lift the long gold chain, and the ring attached dangles between us. Still trembling, she pulls it toward her and studies the oval pink stone—the color of her lips—the surrounding gray diamonds—her eyes—and the detailed gold setting binding them. It took six antique shops to find the perfect one.

“If you promise to consider marrying me, I promise to never let things get away from us. If I get worried about something, I’ll talk to you. If I piss you off, which is highly likely, you have to speak to me. We can’t let things spiral out of control. We have to contain the chaos. I love you, and I can’t imagine my life without you. But we don’t do this thing until I’ve erased any doubts you have about me. So”—I breathe in the memories of my youth, the present, my future—“will you wear this ring around your neck, and when you know I’m it for you, when I’ve proven I’ll never hurt you again, will you put it on?”