Chapter 41
ELLIOTT
Chaos
You thirsty?
The Loren who climbs into my truck isn’t the same confident, flirty woman from the bar. She fidgets and keeps tapping her phone screen, watching it light up and then letting it go dark again. Like she’s expecting someone to text her.
Tell me it isn’t her ex.
After what we just did, she shouldn’t be wasting her time on him.
Was I wrong? Is she still hung up on that asshole? Is that why she was crying?
I told myself it was too soon, that she was still on the rebound after what he did to her, but did I really believe it? No.
I paced that damn apartment until it felt like the walls were closing in on me. Then Loren sent that text, asking if I was thirsty.
The moment that text came through, I made the decision I’ve been struggling with ever since we kissed.
To be her rebound if that’s what she needs. To show her how she deserves to be treated, whether it lasts for a day or a decade.
And it’s already coming back to bite me in the ass.
My hands strangle the wheel. “I thought you were over him.”
She looks at me as if she doesn’t have a clue what I’m talking about. Which, to be fair, is probably true considering I’ve been holding an entire conversation in my head.
“I am.”
“Then why are you so upset?”
There she goes again, pressing the buttons on her damn phone. “He threatened me.”
My hold on the steering wheel slips, and the truck weaves toward the shoulder. I correct quickly enough, but my mind isn’t as quick to recover.
“He what?”
“He said he was going to lie to Rebecca, tell her I was the one coming on to him, that I knew he had a girlfriend. Make me look like the villain. And it’s so shitty because she is honestly the nicest person.”
And nice people are too forgiving. Narcissists like Josh know that, which is why they attach themselves to nice women like the leeches they are. Someone who will forgive all the bullshit they have to put up with.
It’s fucking infuriating.
“What if she fires me?”
“She can’t fire you for sleeping with her boyfriend.”
Loren’s head falls back as she mulls it over. “Maybe.”
Not maybe. That’s the law. They must have reasonable cause to fire her, and something like that isn’t it. Now, this Rebecca could certainly make Loren’s life hell until Loren wants to quit, but if Rebecca is as “nice” as Loren claims, I doubt that will happen.
That doesn’t mean Loren won’t quit all by herself. I can see her giving up and running away instead of staying to fight. That isn’t always a bad thing, but in this case, it would do more harm than good.
She loves her job—earned that promotion.
She doesn’t deserve to pay for his shitty decisions.
Now I’m sorry I didn’t hit her ex in his smug face.
I rack my brain for something to say that’ll make this better, but all that does is make me want to turn this truck around.
Fifteen minutes later, we finally get back to our apartment complex.
By the time I make my way to Loren’s side of the vehicle, she still hasn’t budged.
I open the door for her and release the belt.
I take her hand in mine, and she feels so small and fragile as she drifts along next to me, up the stairs to our front door.
Enough is enough. If there’s anything I can do to resurrect her smile, I’m going to do it. “Do you want me to have August slash his tires?”
She blinks up at me, her eyes round as an owl’s. “What?”
“If Josh is still at the bar. August would be more than happy to do it.” My cousin loves a good misdemeanor.
Finally, a laugh. “I appreciate the thought, but I wouldn’t want your cousin getting into trouble because of me.”
August wouldn’t get into trouble. Hell, even if a cop saw him commit the crime, he’d probably be able to convince the officer that Josh deserved it. “Fair enough, but if you change your mind, let me know. You want another drink?” Might help calm her nerves. Her hands are trembling.
“Sure.” She shrugs out of her jacket, leaving it on the dining table instead of the hook beside the door. When August does that shit, it bugs me. When Loren does it, I find it endearing.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m going to hang it up the moment I get a chance. But I appreciate her chaos.
I grab two beers from the fridge and set them on the counter.
She wraps her hands around her bottle but doesn’t drink. “Thank you for coming tonight.”
“Thank you for coming tonight.”
Her blush is the prettiest shade of pink before she decides to hide it behind her hands. “I can’t believe that actually happened.”
“Why?”
“Look at you. You’re like… a Nashville nine and I’m an Oakton seven.”
I’ve never been to Oakton, but there is no town on earth where she is a seven. It kills me that she looks down on herself so much. “Only a nine, huh? Ouch.”
“Oh, shut up. You know what I mean. A ten is perfection and nobody is perfect.”
“That pocket of yours might disagree.”
She drops her hands in favor of her beer, drinking until the bottle is half empty before setting it down to pick at the corner of the label. “Why did you come to the bar tonight?”
So many reasons. “August claims I have a hero complex. I see a woman in distress and must jump in to save her.”
“Oh…”
Except tonight didn’t have anything to do with that.
Tonight was about something else entirely.
It was about giving Loren Piper a reason to stay.
Being vulnerable terrifies me. When you bring a woman home for the night, the transaction ends the next morning. With Loren, she’ll still be here tomorrow. And the next day. And the day after that.
Hopefully, anyway.
I’ve only ever been completely vulnerable with one other person, and that relationship crashed and burned.
But I think this is what she needs. She puts herself out there, consequences be damned. Heart on her sleeve and all that nonsense. From what I’ve gathered, the guys she’s dated in the past haven’t done the same for her.
We might not technically be dating, but I refuse to be lumped into the same category as everyone else.
“But August is an idiot. I think it’s because I’ve had a crush on you since the moment you rocked up in those orthopedic shoes.”
“They’re not ortho—wait. You have a crush on me?”
“Contrary to popular belief, I don’t slip my hands into just anyone’s pockets.”
A smile curves her lips. “I’ve had a crush on you ever since you gave me that beer on the balcony.”
“While you were with Josh? Little devil.”
“I won’t tell him if you don’t.”
She sits in silence, sipping and scraping at the label while I watch a myriad of emotions play out on her face. After a solid five minutes, she nods to herself and our gazes connect once more. “So what do we do now?”
What a loaded question—one I’m not prepared to answer without a little more information. “What do you want to do?”
“What I want to do and what I should do are two very different things.”
“Why don’t you tell me what they are, and we can decide together?”
Her lips purse before she takes one final swig. “I should go to bed.”
That’s the opposite of what I think she should do, but I know when to keep my mouth shut.
Now isn’t the time for games or goading. Loren is in charge tonight.
“But I really want to kiss you again.”
“Why can’t we do both?” I ease forward until our breaths mingle, waiting for her to close the distance.
When she does, my heart goes into overdrive, pumping all my blood south.
She tastes like sunshine and smiles, happiness and effervesce.
I can’t get enough, capturing her straightened hair while longing for the chaos of her curls, angling her head so my tongue can dive deeper between her parted lips.
She kisses with the same madness she embodies, the same unbridled passion.
“I need to go to bed,” I murmur against her lips, “and you need to go to bed, and there’s a bed right in there.”
“True. But I’m not having sex with you tonight.”
A small part of me leaps at the fact that she said “tonight” instead of saying we are never having sex.
“Damn. That sucks because weepy women are such a turn-on for me.”
“Shut up.” Chuckling, she links our hands together, leading us to her room.
I sink onto the end of her bed and wait while she scoops up her pajamas from the floor and vanishes into the bathroom.
She comes back a few minutes later, her long legs on display beneath the shortest shorts known to man. “You don’t have to stay in here just for me if you don’t want to. I’ll be fine on my own.”
“What makes you think this is just for you? Why can’t it be for me too?” I like sleeping with a woman in my bed, whether we have sex or not. I miss the connection, knowing someone else is there.
She drops onto the other side of the bed. “Josh never wanted to sleep with me.”
“I think we can both agree that guy is a shithead.”
The smallest smile teases her lips. “True. I guess I assumed a guy like you wouldn’t be big on snuggling.”
“First, I’ll have you know that I fucking love snuggling. Second, what do you mean a guy like me?”
“Commitment-phobes.”
Shit.
Okay.
It’s time.
I swallow the flippant answer I’d normally give and tell her the truth instead. “This room? It belonged to my ex. She’d sleep in here sometimes when she had to work nights at the hospital.”
From the way her jaw drops, you’d swear I just admitted to being a serial arsonist. “Hold on. You had a girlfriend? How long were the two of you together?”
“Fifteen years.”
She snorts but sobers almost as quickly. “Wait. Are you serious?”
“Yep. We met our first year of middle school.”
“And you dated her until you were twenty-seven?”
Dated. Sure. We’ll go with that. “Twenty-eight, actually.” She waited until the day after my birthday to end things. Really thoughtful of her, right?
“Wow. Okay. Now I feel like the shithead. I don’t know why I assumed you weren’t the commitment type. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.” Not like I gave her any reason to believe otherwise.
I know how to be in a relationship. What I don’t know is how to be single. I fucked around for the last four years, but all I found was emptiness.
Loren doesn’t make me feel empty.
She makes me feel so full I could burst.
We fall down next to each other, her head tucked into the crook of my neck and my arms wrapped around her, like this is the most natural thing in the world for us. Like we’ve been doing this our whole lives.
“Why did the two of you break up?”
Talk about killing the mood. It’s like she just knocked me into one of those icy cold dunk tanks they have at my mom’s fundraisers.
As much as I hate talking about the past, August was right. If I ever want to move on, I need to get used to being vulnerable again. This feels like as good a time as any to start.
Let’s see. How do I explain what happened to Alice and me without telling her every single horrible detail? We stopped trying. In the end, neither of us had the energy or the inclination to stand our ground or meet each other halfway. We just kind of…evaporated.
“Let’s just say, guys aren’t the only ones who think the grass is always greener on the other side.”
Her palms flatten over my chest. “Hold on. She broke up with you?”
“That’s right.”
“She broke up with you?” Loren repeats, slower this time.
She’s so cute when she’s indignant. “This is really doing wonders for my ego.” If she keeps it up, I might never let her go.
“Seriously though. I don’t understand why anyone would give you up.”
She doesn’t know how much I needed to hear that. I don’t want to make Alice out to be the villain here. After everything that happened, we were both at fault. But Alice was the one who ultimately pulled the plug on us. Who decided that what we had wasn’t worth fighting for.
That I wasn’t worth fighting for.
I’m not saying that I’m a prize by any means, but I like to think I treated her well. That I loved her with all that I was.
“Alice and I were together since we were kids. I guess she just never got a chance to figure out what she wanted.” Only that she didn’t want me.
“Her loss.”
I can’t help but smile up at the ceiling. “Go to sleep, Loren.”
“Will you kiss me first?”
“Chaos, I’ll kiss you anytime you want.”
When Loren eventually falls asleep in my arms, I breathe her in, letting her chaotic energy soften my calloused heart.