Swoon (12 page)

“I thought you loved helping people.”

“I still help people. Just in a different way.”

He snorted behind me, and I felt the shift in the bed as he stood.

“You know what?” he asked as he walked around to the bedroom door. He lifted his hands above the door frame and leaned against it, his back to me. “You’re right. I can’t help you move forward. Only you can do that. The girl I knew kicked ass and would never let herself wallow in misery for months on end. Quit punishing yourself. Get over yourself. And if you figure that out, if you find that girl you used to be, give me a call.”

And he walked out.

And that was the time I got dumped twice in one night.

* * * *

Lawrence

“There’s nothing to talk about, Tina. She’s just an old friend.” I rolled my eyes inwardly.

“I’m not an idiot, Lawrence. And I don’t think my father would approve.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Your father has nothing to do with us. At all.”

She huffed as she sat back in her airplane seat, allowing us to resume blissful silence. We were flying back to Kentucky after a range of successful meetings for me. I’d brought Tina because I needed a date for some of the functions. But I’d rather I hadn’t. Now anyway.

I was still so fucking mad at Steph. And it alternated between turning me on and pissing me off. She was the most frustrating woman I’d ever met and was never far from my thoughts. I hadn’t actually beaten a dead horse before, but suddenly the phrase made a whole lot of sense. My heart raced when I saw her, every time. I’d never forget her, would never be able to cut all my ties from her, but I was done trying to talk her into something she clearly didn’t want.

“Lawrence?” Tina drawled in a saccharin tone, bringing me out of my thoughts.

I turned my head to look at her. She let her fingertips trail over my shoulder.

“I didn’t mean to be so possessive. I know you aren’t looking for anything serious. Neither am I, honestly. But I flew all the way out here with you. And we spend a lot of time together. Our families know each other. I think we owe it to each other to… at least admit we’re more than friends. Don’t you think?”

I nodded absently.

“Yeah, friends isn’t the right word.”

She leaned over and kissed my cheek, bouncing in her seat. “Excellent. Then can you come to my birthday dinner next week?”

I nodded again. “Sure, why not.”

Chapter 14

Three Months Later

Steph

I
t was the night before Thomas’s first birthday. He was the beautiful demon child who made Ethan and Lissa’s lives alternately happy and miserable. In all seriousness, he’d been sick, like from day one, and my best friend was a total trouper. He’d been doing better though, so they were having a small get-together to celebrate.

Lissa warned me that Lawrence would be in attendance.

I hadn’t spoken to him in months or even attempted contact. The words he’d said as he left that night had hurt, deeply. But he was right.

I’d been working on finding myself again. On being a person I liked. I was still a work in progress, but I was feeling a little more positive. I did stop spiking my coffee. During the day anyway.

Like a coward, I’d sent Lawrence a text earlier, asking if he’d come over so we could talk. I didn’t know what to say, but I didn’t want to see him for the first time over at our friends’.

I made way too much effort to look cute, but not like I’d tried too hard. Like maybe I dressed this way all the time to sit around my house, when in actuality I wore pajamas most of the time. I had on white short shorts and a big slouchy sweater thing that hung off one shoulder. It was very Victoria’s Secret model-y, or it would be if I were a foot taller and had boobs.

I had a tiny bit of makeup on, and my hair was piled messily on top of my head. My house was super clean and tidy, and I even had some dinner in the oven in case he wanted to stay and eat. I was being stupid.

Finally I poured myself a glass of wine and flipped on the TV to wait. He was coming straight to my house after his drive and then grabbing a room at one of the small inns in town and sticking around for a few days.

Despite having waited for what seemed like forever, the knock on my front door startled me, sending my heart fluttering slightly.

I set my glass down and straightened my shorts as I stood, then adjusted my sweater to show a little more bare shoulder. Don’t judge me.

Clearing my throat and rolling my shoulders, I swung open the door. I tried to hide the sharp intake of breath that filled my lungs, but I couldn’t help my eyes sweeping him from head to toe.

He looked… the same. His same lean self, his arms defined, shoulders broad, filling my doorframe. He was wearing dark jeans, frayed at the cuffs, and a plain white T-shirt that looked soft and touchable. His blue eyes held a glint of humor that contrasted with the edge he carried around with his shaven head. When I finished my perusal, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and looked in my eyes, his lips spreading into a grin. His jaw had some scruff on it. I was totally into it.

“Hey,” I said quietly with a smile of my own. I stepped back and opened the door wider to allow him in.

As he walked through the door, he leaned over and kissed my cheek. My stupid heart fluttered again and I inhaled his scent, a fresh, sandalwood type.

“You smell awfully good for someone who’s been driving all day,” I blurted without thinking.

He chuckled as he found his way into my kitchen, opening the fridge and helping himself to a beer. I watched him with my arms crossed over my chest, lips pursed. He still hadn’t actually uttered a word.

“Make yourself right at home.”

“How you doing, sweetheart?” he finally asked, making himself comfortable on the couch.

I cocked my head. “I’m okay,” I said, walking over to pick up my wineglass. I moved to sit on the very opposite side of the couch, pulling my knees up and to the side. Then I hugged a throw pillow into my lap as a security blanket. “Thanks for coming.”

He nodded slowly. “I’m glad you got in touch. Finally.”

“I’m sorry. I should have sooner. I just… I just had a lot of stuff to figure out.”

“And did you? Figure things out?”

I smiled a little. “I’m getting there.”

He chewed his lower lip. “Why am I here, Steph?”

“You’re here because I didn’t want to bring this”—I waved between us—“to Lissa and Ethan’s when they’ve been through enough.”

Lawrence took a deep breath, standing and pacing across the room to prop a hip on the windowsill across from me. He started fiddling with his beer bottle and looked up at me from beneath his lashes. The twinkle in his eye was gone, replaced by seriousness.

“That’s why I’m here? To make nice so we don’t cause a scene tomorrow?”

“Well, yes. No… I…” My words fumbled as my mind scrambled to keep up.

He walked past me into the kitchen, and I heard him toss his bottle in the trash. Walking back into the room, he stopped, hands in his pockets.

I didn’t say anything right away, just watched him walk to the front door and swing it open.

“I’m trying,” I finally said, quietly.

He paused when the sound of my voice carried to him.

Without him turning around, I saw his head dip down.

“Want me to pick you up tomorrow before the party?” he asked.

I nodded, then realized he couldn’t see me. “Sure.”

He nodded. “Okay. I’ll be here.”

* * * *

A morning when you realize you’re out of coffee is never a good one. The real bummer was that I’d known I needed some yesterday, but the thought got lost somewhere throughout the day. I held Lawrence responsible.

I still wasn’t sure how I felt about our non-conversation yesterday. I did know that I’d never figure any of it out without coffee. I looked down at my sloppy, bright pink sweatshirt with Book Whoreder scribbled across the front, courtesy of Lissa, and black yoga shorts. It wasn’t the most inappropriate thing I’d ever worn in public, anyway. I grabbed my phone and some cash, slid on flip-flops, and skipped out the door to hop in my car and drive to the local coffee shop.

I hugged myself, trying to snuggle into my sweatshirt until I could climb into the driver’s seat and make the short journey. The air was humid, but there was still an early-morning damp chill. To me anyway. It was only six fifteen, so while the coffee shop did, thankfully, open at six, that didn’t mean most normal people were up and about on a Saturday. I was always a bizarre morning person. I got grumpy if I accidentally slept in. It would feel like the day was wasted, even if I had nothing to do. Who would want to waste the luxury of doing nothing?

The bells on the door to the shop clinked and jingled when I pushed it open, and I smiled at some of the regulars at their tables reading the paper. I didn’t read the paper, but I liked to see people doing it. I loved the sound it made when they rustled the paper to flip it inside out. I remembered my dad sitting on the couch some mornings, reading the news. Even though he sucked, it still made me nostalgic and reminded me of childhood simplicity. It’s not like my childhood was horrible. I wasn’t beaten or abused. But it was nondescript, lacking in joy. Even with that, it was simple. Kids tend to look at things without complicating them.

I was learning that I had a tendency to complicate things.

I placed my coffee order, doodling with my phone while I waited. A great big latte was passed to me, and I decided a scone would be good too, so I got that and turned to find a spot to chill and sip for a bit. My favorite table was around the back corner. It sat four, so it was pretty rude when only one person used it, but this early I felt like it was fair game. I loved it because while one side had two upright chairs, the other was a curved love seat with piles of pillows. It was like being at home except you didn’t have to clean up after yourself.

I stopped short when I walked around the corner and saw a guy in my spot. My first reaction was annoyance because his back was toward me, which meant he was sitting in one of the wooden chairs, scrolling on his laptop, clearly not making use of the comfy side. I was debating if I could ask him to move when the man in question removed his ball cap and rubbed his hands over his buzzed hair. It was move I knew well because I seemed to cause much of the frustration that preceded the action.

At least then I felt comfortable sliding into my nook and nestling into the pillows, which I did with a long sigh, kicking off my flip-flops and moving around to find the perfect position.

I hadn’t really looked at Lawrence yet, unsure if I wanted to see the annoyance on his face. But after nibbling on a piece of scone, I looked up.

I probably shouldn’t have. He was leaning back in his chair, chewing on the inside of his lip and glaring at me. And he was wearing glasses. Holy shit, he wore glasses. I just… Well, I think I just had a spontaneous orgasm.

“Morning,” I chirped, willing my hormones under control.

He grunted.

“You’re up early,” I continued, taking a careful slurp of my hot coffee.

He grunted again.

“If you’re not a morning person, then why are you up?”

Finally he sighed, loudly. “I am a morning person. I’ve grown up with racehorses. It’s a prerequisite.”

“Ah, so you’re not a Steph person. Is that it?”

“We don’t have to be friends, Steph.” Now he was back to studying his computer.

I frowned. “I kind of thought we were working on the whole friends thing.”

“No. We had part of a conversation we probably never should have had in the first place. You’re still soul searching.”

I threw my hands in the air. “Why are you being such an asshole? I don’t understand. You weren’t even this big of a dick yesterday. Did you grow into a bigger one overnight?” I widened my eyes. “Is it like morning wood?”

I said that last part way too loud for the quiet of the cafe. Whoops.

Lawrence’s arms were crossed over his broad chest, but I saw the corner of his mouth twitch as he suppressed a smile. Who doesn’t laugh at morning wood? I giggle every time.

“I’m tired of the runaround, Steph. It’s not my style. I’m usually pretty cut-and-dried. I deal with things head-on. I move on. I don’t do complicated. And you seem to thrive on it.”

Wow.

He went back to his laptop, and I sipped my coffee and picked at my food, contemplating his simple breakdown of me. Of us.

“What if we’d just met?” I asked.

He sighed and folded down his screen with a click, taking off his glasses and setting them aside. He then regarded me with a raised brow.

“I’d hit on you. Ask you out.”

“And if I said no?”

“I’d smile and leave.”

“Really? That’s it? I’m a little offended.”

He shrugged. “Why would I waste my time on someone who wasn’t interested?”

“What about fighting for what you want?”

“What if what you want has no interest in the fight?”

I slid out from the love seat and jumped to my feet, hastily sliding into my shoes and walking away. I felt Lawrence’s eyes on me, burning through my ridiculous sweatshirt. I disappeared around the corner, then spun on my heel and marched back. I leaned my hip against the table as he tilted his head to look up at me.

I reached out my hand. “Hi. I’m Steph.”

He stared at my hand a moment before taking it in his own. His large, callused hand engulfed mine in warmth, and I tightened my knees to keep them from buckling.

“Lawrence.”

He didn’t let go of my hand, so I continued. “What are you doing later, hot stuff?”

His eyes sparked and he raised a single brow. “Well, I have plans this afternoon to pick up this pain-in-the-ass girl and head to a little kid’s birthday party.”

“Uh, right.” Duh. I’m not sure how I’d forgotten that, but it gave me an idea. “Well then, how about tomorrow?”

“I’m wide-open, sweetheart. What’d you have in mind?”

I laced my voice with the Texas accent I could turn on or off depending on my mood. “How’s about I pick you up in the morning, around ten? You’ll see what I have in mind.”

His eyes widened a fraction. “All right, darlin’. You’re on. You need to know where to find me?”

“Oh, I’ll find you. No problem.” I winked and picked up my coffee, giving his shoulder a pat as I left.

See, coffee helps you make decisions. Whatever they may be.

* * * *

Lawrence