Chapter 11
Luke
Kissing Annie feels like coming home.
My arms find her hips, grabbing her hard enough to leave bruises, her arms looping around my neck and pulling me in closer.
As her lips move against mine, I swallow her soft moans, jasmine and rose overwhelming my senses. This moment makes all the waiting, all the loving her from afar, completely worth it.
Her kisses taste like pine with a hint of cherries, and her body fits so perfectly against mine. I haven’t kissed her since I was 18, yet my body reacts to her as if the past seven years were no more than just one night away from her.
My hands roam to her lower back, molding her body into mine as much as I can, so I never forget what it feels like.
Her fingers move up the back of my neck and into my hair, pulling tightly, the slight sting of my scalp like oxygen to the fire inside me.
My tongue slides against her bottom lip, asking politely for access.
I need to taste more of her.
My mind just keeps repeating the mantra: more, more, more.
More of Annie.
More of my Annie girl.
More because it’ll never be enough.
My bottom lip gets caught between her teeth, and the growl that comes out of me just makes her bite harder.
I should have known that I’m not kissing the Annie I knew in high school. Kissing this version of her isn’t just sweet kisses and gentle touches.
It’s fighting for control; it’s dominating.
It’s fucking heaven.
And then it stops.
I open my eyes just in time to see her take a step back, her hand going to her swollen lips, her eyes both hazy with lust and widened with worry—maybe even regret.
Against my better judgment, I reach for her, only for her to widen the distance between us, until she’s in her room, the door to the guest room closing before I can convince her that this wasn’t a mistake.
***
Saying I didn’t sleep well last night would be the understatement of the century. It was already past two in the morning when we got home from the hospital, and I remember seeing light coming in from under my curtains when I finally stopped tossing and turning.
By seven in the morning, alternating between dreams of kissing Annie and nightmares of her face when she pulled away, I got up and took a cold shower, knowing sleep was not in the cards today.
Every time I feel like I’m one step closer to Annie, she pushes me fifteen steps back. Last night being a perfect example. She seemingly let me in—making me think all my hard work was paying off—only for her to shut me out again.
I know it felt too real to her. I could tell by the way she looked at me when I told her it’s always been her. I heard it in the shakiness of her voice when she said there was nothing between us.
She’s lying to herself as much as she’s lying to me.
She’ll tell me, our friends, herself that she hates me when she doesn’t.
She kissed me .
That kiss was like nothing I’ve ever experienced, which isn’t hard to believe. No one has ever made me feel the way Annie does—the spark, the heat, the thrill that I feel every time Annie rolls her eyes at something I say or gives me her signature death glare.
I know, with everything I am, that she is worth it.
Last night proved that I’m getting somewhere with her, and the more she tries to convince herself that it’s over between us, the harder it makes me want to fight.
I glance at her door, not surprised it's closed, and I tiptoe closer to see if I can hear her moving around. I swallowed my pride when it came to Annie years ago, and I have no shame pressing my ear to the door if it means I might cross paths with her this morning.
Rosie didn’t sleep with me last night, and she’s not on the couch, so I know she’s in there with Annie, and it sounds like they’re both fast asleep; there’s no movement coming from the other side of the door.
I walk over to the kitchen, my mind turning with all the ways I could keep myself busy today. Knowing I can’t sit with my own thoughts too long, I glance at the clock on my oven and see it’s just past nine.
Rosie won’t stay in bed much past that—lucky for me, I adopted a dog that matches my energy and inability to sit still for too long—and a buzz of anticipation comes over me knowing I’ll get to see Annie, but it quickly fizzles out.
Before the kiss, I was hopeful that both of us being off today would get me a little time with her, maybe convince her to take Rosie for a walk or get lunch. But now?
I know Annie. She is going to avoid me like the plague today.
If Little Miss Lennon hadn’t made her grand appearance into the world last night, I could’ve gone to talk to Emmett about my last shift, but I suppose that’s on the back burner for the foreseeable future—there is no way I am on his short list of priorities right now.
The three new bartenders are on their own today and will be more so now that Emmett is on paternity leave. I’ll probably still head in later to make sure everything is okay.
My last shift at Lenny’s is supposed to be at the end of August, but I want to throw up every time I imagine what my life will turn into if I move back home and work with my dad.
I might be able to put off quitting Lenny’s and working at the law firm now that Emmett has his family to worry about—running the bar could be something I take off his hands for a month or two—but that conversation with my dad also makes me want to throw up.
A conversation that is weighing so heavily on my shoulders, one I need to get off my chest before it buries me. One that I’ll put off a little longer while I figure out what to do with myself today .
I decide to see if my brother is busy, hoping I can take my mind off all this stuff with Annie and my dad, even if it’s easier said than done—especially the Annie part.
Bennett is technically my half-brother, just like Caleb, but it has never stopped me from seeing them as family. I sure as hell don’t see my parents as such.
“Hey, Lu. You caught us at the perfect time.” Bennett answers on the first ring. As a firefighter, I know it’s usually a hit or miss on whether or not he’ll be able to talk. He alternates between 24-hour shifts and having 48-hours off, and I’m not surprised that he isn’t alone—almost always with his best friend, co-worker, and roommate, Jack, who I assume is the “us” he is referring to.
“Hi, Luke,” Jack says, confirming my thoughts.
“We’re on our way to get breakfast, not too far from you actually. Want us to pick you up?”
I take one more look at Annie’s door. Knowing she’ll want space after last night, I take out the notepad and pen I’ve been using for my notes to her all week from my junk drawer.
Holding my phone up to my ear with my shoulder, I write her a quick note that I’m going out with Bennett and Jack.
“Yeah, I’ll tag along. See you guys in a few.”
The three of us spend the short car ride to the diner a few minutes from my apartment catching up about our jobs, and both Bennett and Jack update me on all the latest Owens and Hastings family drama—both families having their fair share of issues. The biggest one always seems to be how my dad still hates Jack for convincing Bennett to become a firefighter with him.
When we sit down at the diner and each order a coffee, I fill them in on my timeline with the law firm and how my dad won’t get off my ass about it.
“So, you’re still planning on working with Dad?” Bennett asks before taking a sip from his mug.
“Yeah. I’m sure he can’t wait to finally have the ‘sons’ part of Owens I’m doing what I want. You deserve the same. Who gives a fuck what Dad thinks?”
Jack nods, agreeing with my brother. Bennett’s right. I don’t care what my dad thinks—not anymore—but why can’t I feel anything but guilt for not wanting to stick to what I made the choice to do?
“I’ll figure it out,” I finally say, but there is nothing in my voice that sounds convincing. I can tell Bennett is thinking the same, but he doesn’t push it. Our waitress comes over to take our order, and the rest of breakfast is more of catching up and filling each other in on our lives.
I tell them about last night and meeting Lennon, updating them on both Drew and Emmett. They ask about Eddie and Mia, and I fill them in on their courthouse wedding last week and how both the band and Mia’s photography business is doing.
Jack and Bennett, along with my oldest brother, have met the Lenny’s crew on many occasions over the years. Drew, Eddie, Mia, and I, being the ones with siblings, always try to bring our brothers and sisters around our friends—Emmett’s sister, Lennon, is always around in spirit.
Finally, as we finish our breakfasts, Bennett asks about Annie.
Both Jack and Bennett know my history with her because they had front-row seats to not only our whole relationship but when she up and left me too. The two of them watched the two of us grow up, and they both always gave me a hard time about her, thinking that she was the one who got away.
Little do they know that I love a challenge, and Annie is the biggest one of all.
“You’re telling me you have to live with the girl who broke your heart for the next month?” Bennett exasperates. They both got a kick out of me convincing Annie to live with me, not knowing the whole story of who she is now.
I let out a real laugh this time. “It’s a living hell,” I tell them, deciding that I can disclose more about Annie and me to them than I can our friends. “I just can’t get over her, you guys. There’s no one like her.”
“No one like Vivian Mitchell? She was the quietest little girl I think I’ve ever known. I don’t think she ever said one word to me even though I was at your guys’ house as much as she was,” Jack recalls with a smile and shake of the head.
The memory of the quiet Annie who used to come over to do homework or study hits me right in the heart.
From the moment our first-grade teacher sat us next to each other, I followed Annie around like a lost puppy. Her shyness intrigued me, even at such a young age, because it was such a stark contrast to me, and all I ever wanted to do was get her out of her shell .
I would talk her ear off, ask her questions, and try to make her laugh, and those moments she gave me more than a nod of her head or a small smile became addicting.
I knew I loved Annie from the moment I saw her, but that love transformed when we got to high school. Admiring her turned into needing her, and it wasn’t until we made things official in that she opened up about her parents and her life at the trailer park.
I realized that maybe she needed me as much as I needed her.
When she told me about the shit her parents said to her—especially her mom—she thought I was joking when I told her she should move into my bedroom.
“She’s nothing like that anymore,” I tell Jack. “Now, she’d tell you anything you want to hear, even the shit you don’t,” I joke, not being able to fully put into words who Annie is now.
Vivian , as Jack remembers her, hated being called by that name.
We were in fifth grade when Annie told me she wished she didn’t have to have the same name as her mom.
I didn’t think much of it at the time, not making the connection between Annie hating her name and hating how her mom treated her until much later.
My 10-year-old brain went straight to the conclusion that if she didn’t like it, I would call her something else—simple as that.
And from that day on, she was Annie to me.
“Well, be careful. We both saw what it did to you when she broke up with you,” Bennett says as the waitress drops off our check. We each throw down a $20 as he continues. “I’m not going to sit here and tell you she isn’t worth it because that look in your eyes when you talk about her tells me you’re going to do what you want anyway. So, just be careful, okay?”
“Yeah, it sounds like she’d enjoy hurting you this time around,” Jack jokes, and, as we’re walking back out to the car, I can’t help but think about how right he is.
The guys drop me off at my apartment, and I feel a little lighter than I did this morning. Talking about my dad and all the decisions I have to make sucked, but it needed to happen. I have a lot to think about because whatever I decide isn’t going to just affect me.
I start heading into the complex at the same time a familiar head of brown waves and cherry lips walks my dog towards me, and I don’t even try to hide the grin that forms on my face, the same one I wear whenever I see her.
“Fancy seeing you here, Lukey-poo,” she sing-songs as she takes a headphone out of her ear. “Good breakfast with Jack and Ben?”
“Those endorphins from your walk put you in a good mood or something?” I tease. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
Her smile has a sinister twist, and I know she is either planning my demise, or has already put the plan into action. “Is me being nice to you that out of the ordinary?” she asks, feigning innocence in the way she bats her eyelashes.
I take Rosie’s leash from her. “Yes,” I reply without a second thought.
She laughs, and the sound is music to my ears. “You just know me too well,” she answers. “I might possibly need something from you.”
I open the door and follow her in, knowing all too well that whatever she wants, it’s already hers.