Wish for You (9 page)

Jumping up, I walk with her to the door. Before she can leave, I grab her up in a big hug. “I’m going to miss you, Momma.”

“
I’m going to miss you, too. But you’re brave and strong. I have faith in you,” she says, as if that’s all it will take to get over them moving half a world away. “Remember, baby girl—be brave, be strong, and have faith. That’s all you need to make it in this world.”

“
What about love?” I ask, tears falling on my cheeks.

“
Love requires all of those things. Just you wait and see.”

Reluctantly, I let her go, watching her walk down the hall and to the elevator. She waves at me as it opens. I wave back, and then close the door as she steps inside the elevator. My throat feels as though it’s about to close up, and I wipe away my tears. The lump I keep swallowing returns, and I remind myself to breathe. I remind myself that I’m okay here.

I’m okay
.
I’m okay.
This is nothing new. It’s just Wyatt and me, hanging out at his place. It’s just Wyatt and me, and we’re having a sleepover for the next two years.

“
Are you hungry?” Wyatt asks, and I almost jump.

Closing the door, I turn around and fix my gaze on him. He stands there in dark jeans and a blue t-shirt, patiently waiting for my answer. The tattoos on his arms are on full display. He crosses his arms, making the muscles move under his skin. I can’t tear my gaze away, and his lips part. Mine part in response.

We’re alone.

Automatically, my hand goes to my hair, finding purchase. I’m terrified and excited at the thought of truly being alone with Wyatt.
Again
. I’m terrified by my excitement. I’m terrified that the impact of my family leaving will hit me
again
while I’m here. I wind a length of hair around my fingers, and his eyes narrow.

Be strong. Be brave. Have faith.
I let go of my hair. “Can we order a pizza?”

He quirks a black brow. “The usual?”

“
Extra pepperoni,” I say, feeling a little better now.

Food is a safe topic. Food doesn’t change for me. Wyatt and I always eat pizza from the same place. A place that’s been open for twenty years and still has the same waitresses and managers. If we had been dating at the time, Wyatt and I would have had our first double date there with Rae and Cole.

He grins, so heartbreakingly beautiful and sexy that my fingers curl. I remember the feel of his lips under my fingers, the shape and size as he let me explore his face, the thickness of his neck, and the breadth of his shoulders. I remember what it felt like to skim my palms down his biceps. How they tightened and how he laughed when I drew back, startled.

He’d been so patient, so completely calm on the surface, while I memorized his body, but I’d noticed the racing of his heart, the way he—

“
Lacey,” he says, the warning in his voice loud and clear, but I can’t help but ignore it. I can’t help but keep staring, keep remembering… “I need for you to stop looking at me like that.”

“
Okay.” But I don’t.

Suddenly, Wyatt is directly in front of me, tipping up my chin. His body is only inches from mine. Our gazes collide. Darkest brown to lightest brown. His touch makes me feel weak inside, all gooey and hot. My body gets all tingly, remembering what his hands can invoke. How fast the heat inside of me can travel, until I’m gasping his name. He’s only touching me with one hand, and only on my face, but I feel him
everywhere
.

I want the weight of his body on mine. I want him to press me to the floor, to rock against me until sparks dance behind my eyes, and I’m on edge. I want… I want… God, I want
him
. My nipples become hard points, so quickly that it almost hurts. I begin to throb, between my thighs… and the last time we were together hits me.

“
You can say it,” Wyatt murmurs.

I shake my head. “I can’t.”

“
Yes, you can. It’s just you and me, and this hot, little pussy.” He cups me, and I let out a strangled moan. “This is your pussy. Say it for me, baby.”

“
This is your pussy,” I whisper.

“
I didn’t mean…” He briefly closes his eyes and, when they open, they blaze with lust and desire. “That’s right. Your wet, hot, little pussy is mine. All mine.”

Right now, at this moment, I’m wet and hot. For him.
I know it.

My face burns.

His eyes glitter.
He knows it.

“
Wyatt.” I can’t say the rest. I can’t tell him what I want. What I want is irrelevant, because it’s unfair to him. What I want is selfish, and without the future he deserves.

“
You’re not playing fair, Lawless. Not when those pretty brown eyes are looking at me like that. Not when I can see how hard your nipples are. Not when I know…” He turns his head. “
Fuck
.” His jaw tightens as he turns his attention back to me. His dark gaze fixes on mine, but with desire comes a hardness I recognize even more. “I know how much you like rules. So here’s one of mine.” The rawness of his voice scrapes over me. “Don’t look at me like that
unless
you want something more.”

I want something more. I’m
dying
inside for something more. But I make myself say the words he needs to hear. “I won’t.”

“
Friends
don’t break those rules, remember?” he points out, like I need the reminder or the emphasis from him. I’m reminded of our friendship every time we’re in the same room, and I can’t touch him like I want. I can’t tell him the truth of how I feel.

“
I remember,” I whisper, dying a little more.

“
And you feel the exact same way you always have about me,” he says.

I love you, Wyatt. I’ve always loved you.
“Yes.”

“
Friends
respect each other’s boundaries and limits. Staring at me like I’m like the extra pepperoni you want to eat is unacceptable.”

I’ve hurt him badly, more than I thought possible, and I’ve been so incredibly naïve to assume otherwise. It doesn’t matter what I think of myself, not when he’s always made it clear what he thinks of me, what he wants of me. Especially not when he’s attended every one of my games he could, when he’s always picked me up when I’ve fallen, when he… I bite my bottom lip.

“
I’m sorry.”

He lets go of my chin. “Don’t be sorry.” Turning around, he heads to the kitchen. “Just remember what I told you.”

Rules. I can live with rules and with boundaries.

But I don’t know if I can take living with Wyatt.

Chapter Ten

Wyatt

Lacey’s only been here for an hour, and I’m already at my breaking point. We’re standing in the kitchen on opposite sides of the island in the middle. I’m already on my third beer, while she nibbles on her third slice of pizza. I’ve barely touched the pizza, because the last thing on my mind is food, but I’m not going to leave her alone for her first meal.

Finishing the slice, she places the crust on the plate and looks at me, her gaze questioning. It’s marginally better than before, when she’d looked at me like she wanted to eat me for dinner.

I never should have touched her. Hell, I shouldn’t be thinking of her right now, like this, but I can’t get the image of her out of my head… of her nipples poking at her thin shirt, of her full lips parting, of her face flushing.

“
I’m going to finish unpacking,” she announces. “But I’ll help clean up first.”

Glancing at the few items on the granite countertop, I give her a wry smile. “I think I can manage.”

Her eyes widen. “But I always clear the table.”

“
We’re standing at the island, so I think this time it’s okay.”

She starts chewing on her bottom lip. “At home, I always clean up.”

“
You’re not at home anymore.” She flinches, and I set down my beer, exhaling. “What I mean is that you have a different home now, and we can make up our own rules.”

“
All right.” Her eyes brighten, just a little, but it’s enough to ease the tightness from my shoulders. “Do you want me to clean up now?”

I’m not going to win this—this, whatever it is—with her. Maybe she’ll be more comfortable if I let her continue whatever routine she had with her family, and not have a panic attack.

God, I hate those. I hate feeling so helpless, so worried and—how I feel can’t compare to how she must feel. I know how embarrassed she gets. How quiet she gets afterward, a reverse of the calm before the storm. She’s the aftermath of the storm, like when her parents had moved and she’d come to me, incoherent and screaming, until she passed out in my arms.

I had been scared as fuck, out of my mind with worry and, in the end, I just held her. That had been almost as bad as when I saw Nathan, lying on the ground with his stupid, blank eyes staring at nothing. Except, her beautiful brown eyes had opened and focused on me. Only the next day she’d come to me, twisting at her hair and saying the words I hated.

“
We can only be friends. It’s for the best.”

“
I need another beer,” I say, moving to the fridge. I can feel Lacey’s gaze on me. “Want one?”

“
You know I’m not old enough to drink.”

“
No one would know, Lawless.” I like to call Lacey by her roller derby nickname when I want her to be wild and reckless with me. I grab two bottles and pivot, holding them in the air and bumping the door closed with my shoulder.

She shakes her head, clearing off the island. “I would know.”

The sight of her cleaning annoys the shit out of me. She’s not under her parents’ thumbs anymore. “I said I’d clean up everything.”

“
I know.” She walks to the sink, soaps up a clean sponge, and then starts wiping off the counters. “I’ll be done in a minute, and then I can help with—” She freezes, the sponge midair. Bubbles plop onto the floor. Her frantic gaze flies to mine. “I need to help with something.”

“
You need to finish unpacking,” I remind her, preparing for the worst. Who gives a rat’s ass about beer, when the girl I love is about to have a nervous breakdown because she can’t help whoever she normally helps out at this time?

“
Unpacking?” She blinks, a smile curving up the corners of her lips. “My new room.”

I hold out my hands, gesturing to, well, the entire condo. “Your new everything. Nothing’s off limits to you. This is your home.”

A deep breath seems to come out of her entire body, settling her. “Thank you.”

“
Give me the sponge.”

She eyes the sponge, the countertops, and then me, hesitating.

“
Your room needs help looking like your bedroom.”

“
It’s not very homey, is it?”

I laugh. “Not really.”

She hands me the sponge, and I feel like I’ve just won a tactical battle. “Have fun. Just don’t make it too girlie,” I tease. She can paint the walls pink and purple and throw glitter on them, if it will help her adjust to what her parents have done to her.

She rolls her eyes. “I don’t have to share a room with Meredith anymore. So no pink.”

“
Purple?”

“
Maybe I’ll paint the entire house that color.” A giggle escapes her. I grab a towel and flick it at her ass. Sadly, she’s not wearing jeans tonight. “Ouch!” She cups her bottom, and I want to groan. I want to cup that ass. I want to hold her right there, while her legs are wrapped around my waist, and I’m inside of h— “You can’t look at me like that either.”

“
Huh?”

She shifts her weight to one side, making the tail of the dog on her shirt wag. “Rules. You said friends don’t look at each other like the extra pepp—”

“
I know what I said.” My good mood and the need to make her feel at ease is gone. Rather than stay in this kitchen, or even this house, with her any longer, I put the towel down and return the beer bottles to the fridge. “I’m going out tonight.”