The Trouble With Before (29 page)

Moments later, I’m stretched out on the couch and he’s kissing every part of my body. Unable to speak, I can only whimper as his tongue makes his way inside me. I’m floating. Each stroke of his tongue goes deeper, faster, and I’m falling harder. Each moment is better than the last. I’m on a cliff and about to throw myself over into the deep end, then I let go. I’m afraid to fall, but I can’t stop it.

I can’t hold in the pleasure that explodes in me. I call his name so loud that I’m afraid the neighbors have heard it. When he stretches his body over mine, I feel whole, like I’m a puzzle piece missing its other half. He comes up with a mischievous glint in his eye and the sexiest smirk I’ve ever seen. His body is stretched entirely over mine. I can feel how much he wants me, and I want him so badly. I want to feel him inside me.

I’m desperate for it, but he pulls back and looks me in my eye. He still hasn’t kissed my lips and I want to beg him to. He seems hesitant, and it terrifies me. Why is he hesitating to kiss me after he’s kissed every inch of my body? My heart beats frantically and I feel his heartbeat as well. My skin has gone from warm to cold.

“What’s wrong?”

His voice breaks the spell. I lean up to get him off of me, but his body is heavy and solid and I can’t move him.

“This is wrong,” I choke out.

He shifts his weight so I can sit up. I feel tears in my eyes. He doesn’t say anything, and I almost start to cry right in front of him. Aidan never just shuts up; he regrets this.

I snatch up my clothing, close my eyes, and when I turn back around, I’m wearing a believable grin. “You’re drunk. We’re best friends, and I don’t want to mess that up.” I’m shocked by the steadiness in my voice.

He looks confused, and it cuts me deeper than a look ever has.

“Because eventually one of us would mess this up, right?” My tone is sarcastic, but I silently beg him to say that we won’t.

He’s sitting now, a bewildered look on his face.

I bite my lip. “I’m the daughter of a whore and a man who leaves at the first sign of trouble, and . . . well, you’re the guy who can’t commit to save his life. I don’t want what could happen to ruin us. If we’re good at anything, it’s fucking stuff up.” I sound completely sure and unaffected, even amused, but inside, I’m dying.

He looks at me as if he’s devastated, but it’s only for a second. Then he nods, almost in agreement. “You’re right.” He stands and walks toward me, and my breath hitches. “That’s what we do, isn’t it?”

His voice is like ice and sends a shiver down my back. He grabs my waist and pulls me toward him. I feel tears in my eyes.

“That’s how you see me?” He shakes his head. “Is that how you see yourself?” The hurt in his voice is apparent.

Seeing the confusion, hurt, and disappointment in his eyes, I want to smack myself. He lets me go.

“Good night,” he says with a shake of his head and a defeated expression.

I quickly leave the room. When I make it to mine, I break down. Emotion, lust, and damage crumble inside me, mixing in a pool of tears.

T
HE NEXT DAY
, I wake up and morning has melted into early afternoon. My head is light, my stomach is disgusted, and my thoughts . . . let’s not even go there. I grab my phone to confirm the time, and my heart drops when I see a text from Aidan.

Going to Chicago for awhile. Call me if you need anything.

I was wrong. We’re not both fuck-ups. I hold that title alone.

I heard you’re back in Chicago . . . You should come visit . . . ;-)

I
GLANCE AT
my phone and see the text from Hillary. I let out a deep breath. I’ve been in Chicago a week, tying up things for my business and crashing at Chris and Lauren’s. Chris and I are at the bar. I’m on my third beer, and two months ago, a text like that from Hillary would have made my night.

“I’m about to have three kids. Me.”

I glance at Chris, who has a goofy smile on his face. He’s so ridiculously happy, I want to slap him. Not really, but when you’re around a guy who’s on cloud nine and your cloud is teetering around a two, you can’t help wanting him to shut up.

“I’m happy for you,” I say, trying to muster up as much excitement as I can.

He looks at me with amused disbelief. “What’s up with you, man?”

I let out a belch. “Nothing, that’s what.”

He laughs. “I’d think you’d be a little happier. You’re opening up your business—our business—doing what you always wanted before the end of the year. You’re single, not tied down as you say, and the waitress has been eyeing you all night.”

I shrug. I want to tell him the truth about Lisa, how I’ve fallen for her and she basically ran away from me with a cross as if I was a member of the undead. I want to tell him that I don’t understand why I feel like a chick on her period and I can’t get her out of my head, but I can’t tell him that because of our complicated history. He doesn’t even know Lisa’s staying with me.

“I just . . . I don’t know, I think I want something different out of life, man,” I tell him, shaking my head.

He doesn’t say anything. I look over at him and see he’s looking at me as though he’s shocked.

“Different like what? Are you trying to tell me you’re gay?” he asks.

I elbow him. “If I was, I’d pull more dudes than you.”

He chuckles.

“Let’s take the waitress over there. I could take her home, screw her brains out, and it’d probably be pretty awesome . . .” Through the course of the sentence, I realize it would be pretty good.

Chris shakes his head at me and laughs.

Maybe that’s exactly what I need to shake this funk I’m in. So what if Lisa doesn’t think I’m good enough? I know exactly who’d want to ride on the Aidan train tonight.

“OH MY GOD
, I missed this so much,” Hillary purrs as we fall onto her bed.

She smells good, she knows the right places to kiss me, and I tell myself this is awesome!

“Why have you been MIA?” she asks between trailing kisses down my neck.

“A lot going on,” I tell her, undoing her jeans.

“No, you first,” she tells me with a wide grin.

She climbs on top of me and starts kissing down my chest. Hillary’s an expert with her lips. I already know her tricks and my dick is already hard, but . . . something’s off. This is hot, Hillary’s hot, but why the hell am I in my head, instead of inside of her? Why doesn’t this feel right? She’s reaching into my underwear, and when I grab her wrist to stop her, she looks up, confused and amused. She stretches her body over mine and leans into my ear.

“Playing hard to get? I’ll play along,” she whispers before she nibbles on my earlobe.

I slide my hands up the backs of her thighs to her ass to try to get in the moment, to shut my brain off, but it’s not working . . . I can’t keep my thoughts from that night with Lisa and how different it felt, how charged the atmosphere was, how she felt, how I felt. I try to think of why this is different. Hillary is just as beautiful, her body is a ten, and she knows my body better than almost any woman, but this feels empty. Something is missing.

Shit!

I sit up, and Hillary stumbles back and looks at me as though I’ve lost my mind.

“The feels!” I say.

“What? Are you trying to tell me you’ve got something?” she asks with a perplexed expression.

I shake my head and stand up, pulling my pants back up. I know what she meant! I know what Lisa means, and I have
the feels
for Lisa.

“What the hell are you doing?” she asks.

I look at her. “I-I’ve got to go.”

“Are you serious?” she asks angrily.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come. I just . . . I messed up?” I say, genuinely sorry. I shouldn’t have come. Lisa’s right—I do fuck up.

“Sorry? Are you kidding me? What are you talking about you messed up?” She asks frantically as she follows me down the hall to her door.

“You deserve a guy who’s really going to love you, Hillary. Who you feel everything with. You deserve that,” I tell her.

I shouldn’t be surprised when her hand comes across my cheek, but I am. She steps past me and opens the door.

“You’re full of shit. Get the hell out of my house!” she growls.

I do as she says. “I really am sorry,” I tell her before she slams the door in my face.

As soon as I’m out of Hillary’s apartment building, I call Lisa. She doesn’t pick up. I call her again and get her voicemail. I drive all the way home, and when I get there, Lisa’s gone.