All of Me (All of Me #1) (3 page)

“Am I interrupting something?” I ask with an amused tone.

Her cheeks darken in color and she looks down for a moment before meeting my eyes.

“No,” she clears her throat, “you’re not. I, uh, just got out the shower.”

A tall, lean, half-naked body walks behind her, and I can barely make out who it is. But I have an idea.

“Oh my God,” I gasp, sitting upright. “Did you just have sex with
Kyle?”
I whisper his name and gape at Cassandra. She throws her hands in the air, defeated and caught out.

“Okay,
fine
,” she huffs, “you caught me. I was…busy.”

“Nuh-uh,” I say, shaking my head, “you have to give me more than that. Spill it sister. I’ve been waiting
months
for this to happen!”

Kyle’s body appears in the camera and he spins Cassandra around in her chair. He presses his lips to hers in a feverish kiss and I have to look away. It’s intimate, too intimate, and makes me feel like I’m intruding. When she moans I clear my throat, drawing their attention to the fact that they aren’t really alone. Kyle is the first to break the kiss, and then he turns to me.

“Hi, Lace.”

He waves, giving me that surfer boy smile, and disappears from the screen again before I can respond.

Cassandra fans her face, mouthing the words “Oh my God,” and then attempts to fix herself up.

“I see you finally decided to take my advice,” I say, feeling smug. She’d been teasing Kyle, playing hot and cold with him, for much of the time I’d spent in Cape Town. I’m glad she finally listened.

“Several times,” she quips, fluffing her bed hair, “but he’s still here and I doubt he’d like to hear what I think about his very big…foot.”

My jaw drops as she proceeds to show me just how gifted Kyle is, and when she laughs I can’t help but join in.

“Anyway, what’s new with you? Any more run-ins with the Brady Bunch?”

More like The Adams Family,
I think.

“I have been summoned. My mother is throwing me a birthday party next Wednesday.”

Cassandra responds with an exaggerated eye-roll, and then says, “Wear your most provocative dress, and be sure to piss mommy and daddy dearest off.”

A giggle slips from my mouth. “That’s the plan.”

“So,” Cassandra begins, “any other news on the Jason front? Have you seen him again?”

Hearing her say his name reminds me just how much I’ve been thinking about him, despite the fact that I haven’t had any unfortunate run-ins with him again.

“No, but - ”

My sentence is cut off when the doorbell rings. I tell Cassandra I’ll be right back, and cross the short distance to the door. When I open it, I’m greeted by a young messenger boy, judging by his pimple-ridden skin, with shoulder length blonde hair, dressed in a red and yellow uniform. He’s holding a large bouquet of big, purple flowers.

“Can I help you?” I ask.

“Miss. Forbes?”

I frown. “Yes?”

“I have a delivery for you.”

He hands me a clipboard, and I sign before accepting the flowers.

He smiles, tells me to enjoy my day, and then walks away. I shut my door and walk to my desk.

“Ooh,” Cassandra chimes, “those are pretty! Who sent them?”

“I have no idea,” I reply, opening the card. The envelope is embossed with my name, and on the inside is a card with a neat black script.

Dinner on the roof. 7pm. Tonight.

P.S I’m not asking.

“Well?” Cassandra presses. I almost tell her I don’t know who sent it, since there are no initials and no signature, but only one man would ask me to dinner as a demand.

“Jason,” I sigh, feeling my brows knit. It’s so out of the blue.

“What does it say?”

I place the card on my desk, and lay the flowers down before looking at my computer screen again.

“It’s a dinner invitation for tonight.”

“Are you going to accept?”

I don’t have to think about my answer. “No.”

I see Cassandra regarding me, and I know the look in her eye.

“You’re not even going to think about it?”

I stare at her incredulously. “Are you serious, Cass? Weren’t you the one drying up my tears not so long ago while I was trying to get
over
him?”

This earns me another eye roll.

“Having dinner doesn’t mean you’re going to invite him back into your panties. I mean, aren’t you the least bit curious as to why he’s asked you to dinner? Or what he’s been doing with his life for all this time?”

Her questions are fair, and if I’m being honest it’s the second one that has me the most curious. But I know sitting down to a meal with him is asking for trouble. I’m not sure it’s the right thing to do.

“I can see those wheels turning,” Cassandra remarks, “and I can already tell you’re overanalyzing it. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Uh, hello, what have you done with my best friend? The one who wanted to castrate Jason and feed him his own testicles for hurting me?”

“I’m still here Lace,” her face softens, “and I’m not saying you need to sleep with the guy again. I’m merely suggesting that you see this as a chance to get the closure you didn’t get when you came here. It might be what you need to move on, and finally close that chapter.”

“But I have closed it,” I retort, knowing it’s not the complete truth.

It’s Cassandra’s turn to look cynical. “Lacey Forbes, you’re a terrible liar, and I wouldn’t be encouraging you to do this if I didn’t think it could be good for you. You deserve to start over, but you can’t move forward if you’re always looking over your shoulder, babe.”

I know she’s right. I’m just not ready to admit it yet.

“I think you should wear your sexiest dress, and show up,” she adds. “I bet he’s not expecting you to show up.”

I shake my head. I hate giving in, but he definitely won’t be expecting me to show up. It might be my only way to really move on and close that chapter, like Cassandra seems to think. I check the clock on the wall, and see that I have an hour to get ready.

Cassandra gives me a triumphant grin. “You’re going?”

“Yes,” I groan, “I’m going.”

“Wear that tight little red dress I bought you for your birthday. Jason won’t know what hit him.”

***

I open the door that leads to the roof and look around. When I round the corner I see Jason leaning against the wall, looking over the city. To his left is a small table set for two, candles lit. There’s a three-man ensemble a little way from the table, each playing a string instrument. It’s all very clichéd, and very
Jason.
He was always a charmer. I see that hasn’t changed.

The
click
of my heels gives me away and Jason turns to find me. His piercing blue eyes travel down my body and I fight the shiver wanting to crawl up my spine. I won’t be affected by him or his sea blue eyes or his pink pouty lips or his sexy smirk.

Granted, I’m wearing a tight red dress that will without a doubt get his attention, but its purpose is to show him what he no longer has. What he gave up. Everything I am without him.

“You came,” he says, walking towards me.

“I have no idea why,” I reply honestly.

He chuckles. “I see you haven’t lost your feisty attitude.”

I remain quiet, unwilling to give in to his charismatic banter.

He leads me to the table and I take a moment to gather my thoughts. I look out at the horizon, marveling at the way the city lights blend with the starry evening sky. It’s a beautiful landscape, and it makes it feel more romantic than it should.

I don’t want to be romanced. I’m here to close a chapter of my life, not reopen one and keep writing it. Our story, however brief, ended, and I want to walk away from him knowing it’s time. Time to let go and really start over.

“I hope you’re hungry,” Jason says. He takes the seat opposite me, and leans back into his chair. We stay silent for a moment, each of us staring at the other in silence. I feel vulnerable under his gaze. Like he can see through the walls I’ve worked so hard to put up.

I break the moment and shift in my seat, hating how unsure I unexpectedly feel.

A waiter appears out of nowhere and places trays on our table. He removes the silver domes, revealing an assortment of hors d’oeuvres. They range from mushroom-polenta diamonds,
Spanish ham with olives and oranges
, and stuffed piquillo peppers with goat cheese, to tuna nicoise crostini’s and grilled scallops wrapped in prosciutto. It smells delicious.

“Your favorites,” Jason murmurs, his eyes fixed firmly on me from across the table.

Yes. They are indeed in my favorites. A small part of me hates that he remembered.

“Why did you ask me to dinner?” I decide to cut straight to the point before he has the chance to
woo
me. He has the ability to charm clothes of a mannequin, and the last thing I want is for him to do the same to me. That’s why nipping it in the bud is the only option I will allow myself to consider.

I used to be weak when it came to this man, but now’s the time to prove that I have changed, that I’m no longer the weak helpless girl who blindly gave her heart to someone who was unavailable.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” he replies. He diverts his gaze and I realize that he may be feeling as vulnerable as I do.

“I needed to see you,” he continues, “I’ve been going crazy not knowing where you’ve been.”

Silence descends and I process what he’s saying. I get the distinct impression that he said more than he meant to.

“Cape Town,” I reply. “I was in Cape Town.”

“For two years?”

I nod and slip one of the delicious foods into my mouth.

Jason mutters “shit” under his breath and rubs his hand down his face. His brows furrow, and he looks angry.

I stiffen, readying myself for an argument. It’s a natural occurrence between the two of us. Or at least it
used
to be. He would push my buttons, and then I’d push his. We’d fight and then we’d…

No,
I berate myself. I won’t think about the hot make up sex we had. Or the angry hate sex for that matter.

It dawns on me that I am nowhere near ready for this. For him. For our past.

“This was a mistake,” I say, standing up. Jason watches me, studies me. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come. I’m not ready for this.”

I start walking away and the sound of a chair scraping almost makes me stop and look back. Jason grasps my elbow, spinning me around to face him.

“Don’t leave, please. Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on in that head of yours.”

For a moment I consider it, but part of me, no matter how small, knows it wouldn’t be smart to lay all my cards on the table for him. I did it once, and it landed me on a plane flying over eight thousand miles away. I’m not going to make that same mistake again.

“No,” I reply, pulling my arm free of his hand, “I can’t do this with you, Jason. There’s too much between us, and I can’t go through this now.”

So much for not laying my cards on the table. Idiot.

“You can, Lace,” he pleads, “This is me you’re talking to. I know you better than anyone, and I can see the storm in your eyes-”

“Don’t do that,” I snap, cutting him off. “Don’t pretend you know me anymore. You have no idea who I am.”

Jason remains quiet, and I take that as my cue. I’m right and we both know it.

I should have never agreed to this dinner. I thought I was ready to face him and our history, but I’m not. I walk away wishing this is the last time I’d have to do it.

CHAPTER 5

L
ACY

I shut the door to my apartment and throw my purse onto the kitchen counter. That was a disaster.

I take a deep breath and change into my silk robe. The view from my living room is comforting and I feel safe up here, high in my tower looking down. I wrap my arms around my body and try not to allow what just happened to upset me. I owe it to myself to forget about it. I just don’t know how.

How do you forget about someone who was so deeply embedded in your heart that you were sure it wouldn’t even beat without them? How do you forget someone who brought you to life and showed you what living really is?

My eyes close and I press my forehead against the cool glass. A mere half hour with Jason has unearthed everything I fought so hard to bury. One step forward and six steps back. That should be the story of my life.

And really, the only person I can blame is myself. I was dumb enough to fall for him in the first place. But then again, any woman who comes into contact with Jason Tate can’t resist falling for him. He makes it easy.

The door to my apartment flies open and I spin around, startled. Jason fills my doorway, a murderous expression on his face.

“Jason, what the fuck?”

He shuts the door behind him and closes the space between us.

“You can’t just waltz in here like you own the place!” I snap. Resting my hands on my hips, I fix him with a ferocious glare of my own. Who the hell does he think he is?

“Guess what, baby,” his breathing is harsh, “I do own the fucking place.”

I frown. “What? What do you - ”

I don’t get the chance to finish my sentence. Jason seals his lips over mine and pulls me into his hard body. I resist, pushing him away from me, but it does little in the way of stopping him. He only holds me closer, and presses his fingers into my hips until I’m sure they leave bruises.

His tongue traces the seam of my lips and pushes inside my mouth. Trust him to do that without permission. He forces his way in the same way he forced his way into my apartment. Into my life.

I pull away, my body begging me to keep going and get some distance at the same time. That familiar
push-and-pull
between Jason and me comes roaring to life. With a hard shove I’m able to get some space between us, even if your chests are still almost touching.

“W-what are you doing?” I ask between breaths. Jason wipes his mouth, and then replies, “If you have to ask then I’m doing it wrong.”