Illicit: A Forbidden Romance (12 page)

O
n the night
my mom returned from Indiana, I went over to the house bearing a gift in the form of her favorite selection of sushi. I rang the doorbell and waited, holding my breath until she finally answered the door.

“Joss,” she said with a smile that almost appeared relieved. She stepped out and threw her arms around me.

I held her tighter and longer than was comfortable. “Welcome back.”

She laughed softly as she let go. “I was only gone a week.”

“Felt like a million years.”

She took hold of my hand and pulled me inside. “Why didn’t you just come in? Did you lose your key?”

I shrugged as tears stung my eyes at the friendly reception I most certainly didn’t deserve.

We sat down for dinner, and it was almost like old times. But even though she was talkative, I could still sense her holding back. Still, I was grateful we were here at this point at all.

After we cleaned up the dishes, we sat on opposite ends of the couch with a cup of tea each and talked some more. She told me about her latest trip, the difficult clients, and the man she met on the plane.

“Did you get his number?” I asked, spreading the blanket so that it was covering both our laps.

“No. I’m not ready to be dating again.” She watched me for a long, tense moment, a thousand questions in her eyes. And I was ready to answer them all. But she said instead, “So, how are you?”

I let out a breath. “Busy but good. Getting As in all my classes, and I’m looking at an internship at a small publishing house this summer.” I waited a beat, weighing my words. “I met someone,” I said in a soft voice.

An emotion flashed in her eyes before she blinked it away. “A boy?”

“His name’s Tristan,” I said and told her about the date, feeling lighter with every word.

“He took you to a bookstore for a date?” she asked with a smile. “Sounds like the perfect guy.”

“I don’t know about that,” I said, sipping my tea. “He’s too smooth for me. One of those guys who knows how to charm the ladies.”

“But you like him,” she said with a knowing nod. “I can see it in your eyes.”

And I saw in hers that she really wanted to believe that, because it meant I was over Jake. “We do have a lot of chemistry. I wouldn’t say no to another date.”

Her mood shifted then, the smile fading along with the light in her eyes. “Joss, we have to talk.”

I steeled my nerves, preparing for the long-overdue conversation. “I’m sorry, Mom,” I said, tears stinging my eyes already. “I didn’t do it to hurt you.”

Her lips thinned. “But you did.”

“I tried to fight it. We both tried to fight it.”

She took a deep breath, her face hard as stone. “Who initiated it?”

“Me.” I cleared my throat in lieu of looking her in the eye. “I developed a crush on him and stupidly acted on it. I’m sorry.”

“Did he flirt with you before then? Did he make any advances?”

“No,” I said, finally looking up. “It was all me. He was just being his usual self.”

“And you couldn’t help but fall in love,” she added, sarcasm lacing her voice.

I picked at imaginary lint on the blanket. “I really couldn’t. I’m sorry.”

“Joss, look at me.” Her stern voice had me cringing but I met her eyes eventually. “Stop saying sorry.”

“Why? I am.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s mine.”

Her words knocked me back. “No, it’s not. Not even close.”

“I should have been around more. You two asked me to slow down and stop working so much, but I didn’t listen. I practically pushed the two of you together.”

“No…”

She let out a hollow laugh, shaking her head. “I even made that stupid wish for you on your birthday, not realizing the great love of your life was going to be my own boyfriend.” She wiped at the corners of her eyes but gamely went on. “But a man like that has no honor. Coming into our house, taking advantage of both of us.”

I wish it had been that simple. Then maybe it would be easier to get over him. “Before he and I… before anything, he wanted to break up with you. He didn’t want to cheat. He didn’t want to do anything behind your back. He was going to tell you. But then the baby…”

Mom said nothing, but I could tell she was trying her best to keep from falling apart.

My own face crumbled. “I’m sorry. For everything.”

“Come here, honey,” she said, patting the space beside her.

I went to her, snuggling under her arm like I used to and wrapping my arms around her waist. “He and I are through, Mom. He doesn’t want anything to do with me.” My voice cracked at the last word, betraying my emotions.

“You love him, don’t you?” she asked quietly.

I pressed my cheek to her chest. “I don’t want to.”

She kissed the side of my head with a sigh. “I guess he broke both our hearts.”

T
hat night
, I came home to find that some douchebag had parked in my designated parking spot. I had to drive around the block and park my car at the street. I was then faced with two choices: Walk around the entire block or take a shortcut through the narrow alleyway between the apartment building and the grocery store.

I chose the stupid route. Story of my life.

Even as I walked through the dark alley, I knew I was making a huge mistake. But I kept going, pure pig-headedness propelling my feet forward.

My breath caught in my throat when I heard someone call out behind me but I chose to ignore it. I had almost convinced myself that I’d imagined the noise when it came again, louder this time and more clear. “Hey!”

I looked over my shoulder and saw a tall man following me, his eyes gaunt and cheeks hollowed out.

He leered, giving me an all-body look that made me prickle with disgust. “Hello there, pretty lady.”

I walked faster. “Leave me alone,” I said, reaching into my purse and feeling around for my can of mace.

“Come on, I’m just being friendly. I just want to talk,” he said, sounding closer and closer.

“I don’t want to talk.” I didn’t stick around. I broke out into a run, cursing myself for being so stupid. If this were a horror movie, I’d be the first to die.

The man followed, calling out to me and laughing even as he gained ground on me.

When I rounded the corner, I ran smack dab into something or someone, I couldn’t tell. Before I could figure it out, two large hands clamped around my arms, trapping me in place.

I screamed. I threw my fists around, fighting for my life. I channeled Mia Hamm and kicked like hell.

“Stop! Hey!” The man held me at arm’s length to minimize the damage.

I looked up and realized I was face to face with the man in the black hoodie. “You!”

“Hey, that one’s mine!” my assailant yelled. I twisted around and saw he had stopped several yards away, balling his hands into fists.

The man in the hood let out a snarl before letting me go and giving chase. They ran half a block before the hooded guy caught up to him and tackled him to the ground. I watched, frozen in terror, as the two men struggled back to their feet, grabbing each other and throwing punches. When taller man grabbed at the black hood, the face underneath was suddenly thrown into sharp focus.

The breath rushed out of me. “Jake.”

As if he heard, he turned around and looked me right in the eye. A moment later, the other man’s fist hammered the side of his face.

I ran. I had no idea what I’d do when I reached them, but I had to protect Jake. I felt like I was underwater, moving in slow motion while the two men continued fighting in real time. Jake eventually gained the upper hand, delivering blows that sent the guy crumpling to the ground.

By the time I reached them, my assailant had run off down the street.

Jake huffed when he faced me, his lip cut and bleeding, the right side of his face already starting to swell. But he didn’t say anything. He just shook his head and pulled out his phone, dialing 911.

Overcome with emotion, I wrapped my arms around his waist and pressed my face into his chest. Tears burned my eyes as I breathed in his familiar scent, felt his familiar warm body.

But he pushed me away, turning his back as he reported the attack. After he hung up, he let out a big breath before facing me.

“Are you purposefully trying to get killed?” he demanded, his face contorted with anger.

I panted, feeling like I couldn’t draw in enough breath. I could only shake my head and say, “No.”

“So why is it that every time I turn around, I have to save your ass?”

The coarseness of his voice made me flinch. I could almost see the anger radiating off him. “Nobody asked you to do that!”

“Well somebody needs to!” He took a deep breath, his voice losing its edge. “I was trying to take care of you the only way I knew how.”

“Have you been watching me?” I asked.

His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he stared at an indistinct point over my shoulder. “Watching over you. Making sure nobody harms you.” His eyes finally met mine, a million emotions running through them. “I almost didn’t come out tonight. I don’t know what would have happened if—”

I pressed my hand to his mouth. “No. Don’t.”

His eyes were full of fear and longing as he stared at me, saying nothing, only pressing his lips to my hand.

“Do you want to come back to my apartment?” I found myself asking then added lamely, “to put ice on your face, I mean.”

Gently he tugged my hand away from his face. “I can’t, Joss.”

“I miss you,” I blurted out. “I still don’t get why we’re not together.”

He sighed, folding his hand over mine. “Joss, there are ten thousand other guys like me, but you only have one mother. I can’t let you destroy that relationship. Not for me.”

I could barely see past the tears, even when he gathered me in his arms. How could something feel so good and yet hurt so much at the same time?

“I want you to move on, Joss,” he whispered, brushing hair away from my face. “And I swear I’ll do the same.”

I pressed my face into his chest, my tears bleeding onto the damned black sweatshirt. “I think… I think I finally met someone who can help me get over you.” I didn’t know why I said it. Maybe I wanted to hurt him as much as he was hurting me.

He stopped breathing, stopped moving altogether. “Who?” His voice was so faint, I almost didn’t hear him.

“His name is—”

“No, never mind. I don’t want to know.”

He pulled away, his eyes averted. Taking hold of my hand, he walked me back down the street to my apartment building and up the stairs. “Promise me you’ll take care of yourself, okay? Don’t do anything stupid.”

“You mean stupider than falling for my mom’s boyfriend?”

The corner of his mouth tilted up, his eyes full of warmth. “Yeah. Stupider than that.”

With my arms wrapped around myself, I watched Jake make his way down the concrete stairs. “You’re wrong, you know,” I called out just as he’d reached the bottom step.

He looked up. “About?”

“There aren’t ten thousand other guys like you,” I said with a sad smile. “There’s only you.”

A
few days later
, Tristan walked in to the bookstore and headed straight for the information desk. “Miss, can you help me please?” He set his elbows on the counter, a charming grin on his face. He reminded me of someone right then, someone I’d promised to forget, so I pushed the thoughts to the very back of my mind and returned Tristan’s smile.

“Hi.” I ran a hand through my hair. “What are you doing here?”

“I’d like some information, please.”

Despite the lousy day I was having, the sight of him lifted my spirits. “What can I look up for you?” I asked, my fingers poised over the keyboard. “Something in the self-help department, perhaps?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Believe me, for what I have planned, I don’t need a self-help anything.”

“Oh? What did you have planned?”

“I was thinking of inviting this awesome woman over to my place and cooking her dinner.”

I narrowed my eyes at him and said playfully, “So you need a cookbook?”

“Nope. The information I need is whether this woman is interested in coming over or not.” He straightened. “What do you say? Saturday? I can pick you up around six.”

I bit my bottom lip, considering his invitation. “Okay. But I’ll just drive to your place instead.”

“Okay, now that that’s settled,” he said, rubbing his hands together. “I need to find a cookbook.”

I laughed and walked out from around the counter. “Come on, I’ll show you where they are.”

With a grin, he took my outstretched hand. “The service here is exceptional.”

T
he drive
to Aventura that night took longer than expected due to typical Miami traffic. Drivers wove in and out of traffic without using blinkers, random cars stopping in the middle of the road for no clear reason.

On the upside, the anxiety of being late afforded me no time to stress over the date itself.

“Sorry I’m late,” I said when Tristan answered the door of his tenth floor apartment. “There was an accident on the expressway. Some guy stopped on the shoulder to text and was struck by a semi.”

Tristan shook his head. “Gotta love South Florida.” He ushered me in with a hand to my back, kissing my cheek. “I’m glad you made it in one piece.”

His apartment was typical Miami modern, with white couches and sleek, modern furniture. On one side was a bay of windows with a panorama of the city lights. “Nice view.” It was then I noticed the table on the balcony, all set up with napkins, wine glasses, and of course, a lit candle in the center.

Tristan came up behind me, his hands on my waist. “You’re just in time. I just finished setting the table.”

“
S
o
,” he began after we sat down to eat. “Now that we’re on our second date, will you tell me about the stupid mistake you made? The one that got your heart broken?”

“I never said my heart got broken.”

“You didn’t have to. I saw it on your face.”

I took a bite of chicken and chewed. For a long time. “Why do you want to know?” I finally asked.

He flashed me a lopsided grin. “So I know what to avoid from becoming just another mistake.”

I turned to the view of the city, drinking my wine while considering how much to say. I wasn’t a big dater but it didn’t take a genius to know that it wasn’t appropriate to talk about failed relationships with a potential new one. Still, something about Tristan’s open expression made me want to trust him.

“I fell in love with a man who was already taken. He was with someone I really cared about but I still pursued him.” My eyes dropped down to the table as a fresh wave of shame washed over me. “It ended… badly.”

“Do you still love him?”

My eyes flicked up to Tristan’s face, at the lines creasing his forehead, wishing I could tell him no. When I said nothing, he nodded and turned his attention back to the food.

“I guess I should have warned you beforehand that I have some baggage,” I said.

He shrugged. “None of us are perfect.”

“Really? Tell me about your flaws,” I said, embracing the shift in subject matter.

“Well, for one, I’m terrible with names,” he said with a chuckle. “I may have botched a few relationships because of it.”

“Oh no.”

He laughed. “Oh yes. It might be the reason why I can’t do relationships.”

“You do remember my name, right?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Joni, right?” he said with a grin.

“One point for getting the first letter correct.”

He lifted his glass and with a wink. “How about a toast then?”

I followed suit. “For?”

“For hope, however misguided sometimes.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Without hope, we wouldn’t be here, trying again even though our past relationships left us scarred.”

I clinked my glass to his. “Here’s to moving on.”

“So who is he?”

I shook my head. “No way. I’m having too good a time to talk about him right now.”

An almost bashful smile curled his lips. “Yeah, I am too.”

A
fter dinner
, we put the dishes in the sink and sat down to watch a movie. The couch, despite its spartan appearance, was surprisingly comfortable.

“More?” Tristan asked, holding up the wine bottle.

I shook my head, already riding the sparkly wave of a buzz. “I’m good, thanks. I still need to drive home, remember?”

He set down the bottle on the glass coffee table and settled in beside me. “You’re more than welcome to spend the night,” he murmured, moving closer so that our thighs touched. “But you’d have to stay in my bed since my brother is currently using the guest room.”

“How convenient.”

“Very.” He stretched his arms out, draping one over my shoulders.

“Oh, smooth,” I teased, poking him in the side.

He brushed hair away from my ear and leaned close. “Do you want me to show you just how smooth I can be?”

I turned my head just as he leaned down. “Maybe…” I said, suddenly entranced by his lips.

I heard the jangle of keys behind me but was too distracted by Tristan’s nearness to notice that someone was about to enter the apartment. The door opened just as Tristan’s lips touched mine.

“Hey, T,” came a voice behind us.

I buried my face in the crook of Tristan’s neck, my face burning from embarrassment at being caught necking.

“Dude, knock,” Tristan said over my shoulder, his palm smoothing over my back. “I’m kind of on a date here.”

“Sorry. I just forgot something.” Heavy footsteps crossed the room and from somewhere further into the apartment Tristan’s brother asked, “Hey, you haven’t seen my sketchbook around, have you? The leather one with the strap?”

I should have recognized the voice as soon as I heard it; I’d certainly dreamed about it enough. But when Tristan’s brother came back to the living room and said, “I haven’t seen it since—” I lifted my head and found Jake standing right behind me, the area around his right eye black and purple.

The words fell from his lips like a gasp. “What the hell?”