chapter 24 #2
Lakers were still in the playoffs. He couldn’t go gallivanting around the globe.
Asking for a divorce was a momentary lapse of judgment. If you can’t love me through something small like that, you never
really loved me to begin with.
After that last message, she’d finally written back.
Cliff, please stop. Take a deep breath. No matter what happens, I will always be your biggest fan.
I have enough fucking fans!
Calm down. You started this.
How?
You kicked me out!
So you’re looking for revenge? You’re trying to make me pay? I just told you it was a lapse of judgment. I wasn’t thinking
straight!
I’m not out for revenge! It’s just that I have Lilly to think of now.
Lilly isn’t your responsibility. Stop acting like she’s the kid you’ve always wanted.
She needs me. That’s the point.
So support her like a sister should—in whatever home she goes to. You don’t have to be her mother, for God’s sake.
He’d said before that Lilly could come live with them.
This revealed he’d never really meant it.
And the way he was acting . . . It reminded her of how possessive he’d always been of her time, how little he’d allowed her to include her parents and friends in her life.
He’d made her live for him, and she was simply not willing to do that any longer.
What he’d done over the past two months had been like throwing a cup of cold water in her face.
It hadn’t been pleasant, but that—and her trip to Italy, where she remembered what healthier relationships were like—had certainly woken her up.
I love her.
What about me?
She hadn’t known what to say to that. She still loved him—not the way she once had but because he’d been such a part of her
life. Her actions now were more about recognizing the truth. She owed it to herself to demand fair treatment, could see that
having him break up with her was a gift of sorts—a chance to take a different path—and if she handled it right instead of
giving in to what was easiest, she’d be much happier.
Even if she wasn’t, at least she’d be able to do right by the other people in her life.
You won’t give me what I need.
I’ve never been stingy with you!
That was true. But he was talking about money, and that wasn’t what she was referring to.
I know, and I appreciate it. I tried not to take advantage of that.
The way his family did.
But I think we should at least take a break and see how we feel later.
Why? I’m ready to get back together now.
I need some time to focus on myself—on my career and raising my sister.
So you’re going to keep her?
If that’s what she wants.
You don’t even know her!
Do we ever really know anyone?
That last text had been a jab at him for turning on her so suddenly, for breaking her heart and upending her life. Truth was,
she couldn’t trust his love anymore. She simply didn’t believe in it. Her marriage felt like it had gone up in smoke so quickly
and easily—far too quickly and easily to have been real in the first place.
She checked her phone. Cliff had sent her a lot of other stuff after that. But she’d decided if she didn’t stop responding
to him he’d go on forever. He wasn’t used to hearing the word no. She didn’t take the time to read the rest of what he’d sent. Julian was outside, trying to clean up something—she couldn’t
see what but guessed it had to do with the noise that’d jarred her awake again—and she felt he needed her, even though he
kept pushing her away.
Leaving her phone on the bed, she hurried downstairs to find Julian kneeling in the silver wash of moonlight, a thin line
of blood sliding from a cut on his hand.
“What’s going on?” she asked, startled by the wound.
When he looked up at her, he seemed so lost and filled with despair she couldn’t help gripping his shoulder.
“Whatever it is, I’m here for you.”
Julian wasn’t sure how Charlotte managed to get him into the house. The first few minutes after she came out were a blur.
He knew she cleaned and bandaged the cut he’d gotten attempting to pick up the glass; he had a Band-Aid on his hand and he
wasn’t bleeding anymore. He also knew she’d taken care of the mess he’d made on the deck; he could remember hearing her go
in and out while she insisted he rest on the couch. Other than those two things, he couldn’t say what had happened or how
long it took. He’d drifted off while she was gone, hadn’t been aware of anything until she came back in and helped him from
the sofa to his room.
“Julian, I need you to tell me what’s going on,” she said, having him sit on the bed while she took off his shoes and socks.
“Something’s wrong. I can tell. So can Sloane.”
“I’m fine,” he mumbled.
Standing, she made him raise his arms so she could pull off his shirt. “No, you’re not.”
“Just had a little too much tonight. That’s all.”
“You’ve been having ‘too much’ almost every night since we got here. Why? Drinking like this . . . It isn’t you.”
“Vacation.”
“It’s not that! You’re not partying. You’re staying away for long periods of time, drinking alone. But whatever’s going on
with you, we’ll help. I hope you know that.”
“I know you’d try,” he said.
“What does that mean?” she asked. “What is it?”
He couldn’t help touching her face. She’d always been so goddamn beautiful. “If things were different, I’d marry you,” he announced. “Cliff wouldn’t stand a chance of getting you back because I’d treat you so fucking good you’d never want to leave me.”
Her mouth dropped open in apparent shock, which made him laugh, and that made her scowl.
“You don’t even know what you’re saying,” she said.
“I do,” he insisted.
“You just said you’d marry me.”
“I would.”
She gave his bare shoulder a slight shove. “You’ve never shown any interest. You’ve pushed me away every time I’ve . . . I’ve
crossed that line!”
“Because I can’t have you. But I’ve always known you were special. The guy who gets you is going to be damn lucky.” He thought
of her current husband and grimaced. “I just hope it’s not Cliff.”
“I already told Cliff that I won’t go back to him, and I meant it.”
“Good! He doesn’t deserve you.”
“Julian . . .”
He’d just closed his eyes, but the gravity in her voice caused him to summon the energy to open them again.
“You’re scaring the hell out of me, you know that?” she said. “What’s wrong? Are you dying?”
He chuckled. “No.” Not yet, anyway. He thought he’d rather die than live what he believed his life might become, but maybe he was just feeling sorry for himself.
“Then what is it?” she pressed.
“I don’t want to be alone tonight,” he replied. “Stay with me—at least until I fall asleep.”
She looked undecided for a moment. Then, while he scooted down under the covers, she closed his bedroom door, came back and
climbed in beside him.
“I wish you’d trust me,” she murmured as he found her in the bed, wrapped his arms around her and pulled her up against him.
This was better than nothing, he thought. “I do trust you,” he said. “I trust you too much. That’s the problem.”
“How can that be a problem?” she asked.
His eyelids were so heavy, he could no longer keep them open, and neither could he bring the words swirling in his head to
his lips.
Charlotte woke up slightly disoriented. She wasn’t in her own room. It took a moment, but as soon as Julian shifted beside
her, she remembered putting him to bed and how closely he’d held her, seemingly comforted to have her in his arms.
She told herself to get up and quietly let herself out. But his words—I’d marry you—echoed in her ears while the memory of that kiss they’d shared on the beach played in her brain. What was going on? Her life
was taking some unexpected turns, but she wasn’t eager to leave him. Quite the opposite. She wanted to touch him . . .
Her heart banged like cymbals in her ears as she imagined running her hand over his bare chest. She knew what that chest looked
like. She’d been trying not to focus on it every time they went to the beach or got in the hot tub. She’d become fixated on
him and his body. She’d just explained to Cliff that she wasn’t going back to him. Why wasn’t she in her room crying? How
could she be feeling so much desire for another man?
But this wasn’t just any man. Jules had been part of her life long before she’d ever met Cliff. And there’d certainly been
periods when she’d flirted with the idea of having a romantic relationship with him. They’d just never really had an opportunity.
Until now. Why shouldn’t she take advantage of it? Her marriage was over. And Jules couldn’t think of her as a sister, not if he said he’d marry her if he could. As much as she’d tried to talk herself out of it, she’d recognized the desire in his kiss . . .
He was shoving her away for some reason. But maybe he needed her . . . Maybe the only way to reach him on a deeper level was
to pry away the layers.
She knew it was a risk. If tonight turned out badly, she could lose his friendship. But she also knew that whatever small
flame had started to burn inside her felt like a beacon in the storm.
Gathering her nerve, she reached over and smoothed the hair off his forehead.
When he opened his eyes, she slid closer to him, cupped his face in her hands and gently pressed her lips to his.
He stiffened at first, enough to make her fear he was about to break away like last time. But then he groaned and rolled her
beneath him while deepening the kiss—and only stopped kissing her long enough to get rid of her shirt.
She wasn’t wearing a bra.
Julian had sobered up enough to know he was making a mistake. But he’d been making a lot of them lately, so it didn’t seem
all that alarming. Charlotte in his bed was just too tempting to resist, especially since she was already wriggling out of
her sweatpants.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked as her panties came off right after.
“Stop it,” she said breathlessly. “Don’t you dare ruin it like you did when we kissed at the beach.”
He didn’t want to ruin it. He wanted to forget about having Parkinson’s disease and make love to her with all the confidence
he’d once had. But it wasn’t fair not to tell her there was something seriously wrong with him…
Problem was that would definitely ruin what they were doing, and she’d just told him not to.
He started to touch and taste her, to give in to what he wanted, but then his conscience got the best of him once again. “Wait. I feel like I need to say something.”
Suspicious, she glared up at him with those gorgeous eyes of hers. “Not now,” she warned. “If you screw this up, I’ll seriously
never forgive you.”
Her bare body was pressed against his, and he held her breast in the palm of his hand as he nibbled at the curve of her shoulder.
Finally making out with her was a heady experience. That and her nakedness were clouding his judgment, but he decided to take
her at her word.
“Yeah—fuck it,” he said. “There’s always tomorrow.”
“There’s always tomorrow,” she agreed and dragged his mouth to hers.
After that, there was no going back. She tightened her arms around his neck as he shifted in the bed and lowered his hand
to the moist spot between her legs.
As she gasped and arched toward him, he knew he’d have to answer for this eventually. His sister would probably hate him as
much as Charlotte, once they learned the truth.
But the life he’d had, the one he really wanted, was essentially over, anyway. So he let go of the last shred of his restraint—possibly
his decency, too—and simply handed himself over to the desire that was driving him.
Almost before he knew it, it was too late to make a different decision. He’d pressed inside her, and she’d locked her legs
around his hips as he began to move.