Chapter 44
Shay
Landon was in town for a few more days after Jameson’s birth.
When I texted him to see if I could visit him to forget about my so-called life for a while, he’d invited me to come over.
In the past, when I felt any form of anxiety, I’d go for a run to help me relax.
Yet there was nothing better than having Landon undress me and roam his hands all over my body.
Each time he thrust into me, my mind went elsewhere, far away from my current problems. I lost myself in him, and at times it felt like he lost himself in me.
But what was he running from?
Every now and then, we’d lock eyes, and I’d feel as if he had that same look as the boy I once loved.
Sad, beautiful eyes.
Was he still sad?
Weeks passed with our arrangement. Landon would find himself in the neighborhood much more than he should’ve, but I didn’t argue it. If he was going to fly into town for a random fling, then I was all about it.
Each kiss felt like comfort, each orgasm rocked my world, and each day I kept reminding myself that it was strictly physical. I wouldn’t become attached to him again like I used to be.
It was purely sex.
It was really great, mind-blowing, make-you-curl-your-toes kind of sex. But still, just sex.
Nothing more, nothing less.
Even if that small corner of my naive heart wanted it to be something more.
* * *
As those weeks passed by, my job search continued.
I tried my best not to get disappointed, but to be honest, I was starting to feel disheartened.
A person could only be told no so many times before it started affecting their spirits.
I couldn’t spend the rest of my life working in a coffee shop. I just couldn’t.
Luckily, after yet another rejection, Landon was in town, and he showed up uninvited to my apartment. To my surprise, I let him stay. I needed to get my mind off my disappointing life situation.
“Bad timing?” he questioned, looking down at me wrapped in a towel. I’d just hopped out of the shower, and the last thing I was expecting was him standing in front of me.
“Would a little notification hurt you?” I yipped. “What do you want?”
“To hang out.” He smiled. “Can I come in?”
I wanted to say no, but more so, I craved a yes. It bothered me slightly how much I liked when he was around. I wished that feeling would’ve gone away.
“Give me a few minutes. I’m gonna get dressed,” I told him, stepping to the side of the door so he could walk in. Unfortunately, Landon wasn’t one to respect someone’s personal space. When I came out of the bathroom, I found him holding my manuscript in his hand.
“What are you doing?” I exclaimed, snatching the paper from his grip. “That’s private.”
“That’s fucking amazing,” he breathed out. “I knew you were good when we were younger, but Shay, those words are masterpieces.”
I felt my cheeks begin to heat up from his comment, and I tried my best to push my emotions to the side. He had no clue that I’d found those words when I rediscovered him. He’d been my muse this whole time, and he hadn’t even known it.
“They’re OK,” I replied.
He laughed. “I think you’re being humble. You need to get your work made into movies.”
“Easier said than done. Not everyone magically has a career fall into their lap.”
“If you give me a chance, I can get your script in the right hands.”
I shook my head. “That’s OK. Strictly sex, remember? No personal favors.”
“But—”
“Landon,” I scolded. “We stick to the rules of engagement.”
“OK, but if you ever change your mind, the offer stands.” He continued to rummage through the scripts on my desk. “It’s just ironic.”
“What’s ironic?”
“How you write love stories yet you don’t believe in love.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “I believe in love.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do.” I locked eyes with him. “Like I said before, I believe in love. It just doesn’t believe in me.”
Landon’s blue eyes softened, and he sat on the couch. “Then why do you write about it?”
I swallowed hard, feeling more vulnerable than I’d allowed myself to feel around a man in a very long time. If they saw you as gentle, they’d use your softness as a weakness. If they heard your voice crack, they’d deem you fragile.
And then that heart of yours?
They’d shatter it.
I sat across from him on the couch and wrapped my arms around my body. “We don’t do this, Landon,” I whispered.
“We don’t do what?”
“Converse.”
“We could, Shay. You could let me in.”
“I tried that once. It didn’t really work out for me.”
He grimaced. “I broke your heart all those years ago.”
“It doesn’t matter. We were stupid kids. That wasn’t real love. It was fiction.”
“Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Underplay what we had. That was the most realistic thing I’d ever felt in my whole life.”
Then why wasn’t I enough?
My chest tightened, and I felt my emotions beginning to swirl as Landon worked his way into my heart. A heart that I worked hard to keep closed off from men—especially him.
Stop it, heart, I ordered. Don’t you dare skip for the man who shattered you in the first place.
I asked him to leave because I couldn’t take the flurry of emotions building inside of me.
“Can I come back tomorrow?” he questioned.
I should’ve said no.
But stupidly, I said yes.
Even though I wanted to tell him to just stay.