Why Not Me? Page 5

  Landon as a nineteen-year-old was attractive. Landon as a twenty-six-year-old man is a work of art. His muscles flex as he lifts himself up before lowering back down at such a slow pace my own muscles ache in response.

  Licking my lips, I tear my eyes away. My body feels too warm, energy pulsing through me as I fidget with the sleeves of my sweater until I hear his feet hit the floor with a thud.

  This physical reaction to him is what lead us down the path of sneaking around. There is something irresistible about our connection.

  Switching the song over, I laugh at the story Landon is telling me. My fingers are weaving their way through my hair as he locks eyes with me. We’ve been hanging out for several weeks now, but here in the confined space of my car, the tension is palpable.

  By the time he finishes telling the story, I’m laughing so hard I can’t seem to stop. He smiles at me, his eyes twinkling.

  “Oh my God, just shut me up.” Turning my head toward him, I gasp when his breath caresses my lips.

  “Okay,” he whispers, before crushing his lips to mine.

  Taking a deep breath, I slowly turn to look at him again, still lost in the memory of our first kiss. Shoving away the memory, I meet his eyes. “Sorry, I’m a little early.”

  He gives me a wicked grin, his eyes locked on mine as he bends to nab his t-shirt from where it rests on a bench. Crossing my arms over my chest when he breaks eye contact to pull the shirt over his head, I grasp my elbows and hold on tight.

  I can’t believe the hold he still has on me. I should hate him, but the reality is, I hate myself. I hate the fact that I knowingly entered a relationship with someone who already had a girlfriend. I hate the fact that when he said he cared about me, that being with me had filled a missing hole and that he was going to end things with Melissa, I believed him. I hate that I fell for his pretty words, even though nine months passed and nothing changed.

  What happened was an experience of naivety, but I’m not that twenty-year-old girl anymore. I believe him when he says he made a mistake he regrets, which is why we can move forward with being friends. I can forgive myself for our past mistakes and I will ignore the way he still manages to drive my hormones crazy. If not, I’ll let the friendship go.

  His hair is all mussed up when his head pops through the material, his arms flexing as he shoves them into the holes and adjusts the hem. It’s not until he’s striding toward me and the table I’m standing next to that I quit staring at his hair. The memories of running my fingers through it are strong and bring up too many emotions. I need to be better at blocking both the memories and the feelings they invoke.

  “Hop up on the table.” His deep voice is gruff, his eyes intent on mine as I do as he says. His fingers probe the muscles in my neck, steady and warm before he guides me through a series of motions. My head is swimming, barely able to follow through with his requests and all I can think about is how much I hope I’m miraculously better so I don’t need to sit here with his hands on me anymore.

  “You’ve been doing your exercises.” His praise glides over me in a caress, a shiver running down my spine when he tweaks my ponytail the way he used to.

  Shrugging, I give him a small smile, his affectionate gesture sending my stomach into my chest. “Well, my physical therapist told me that doing them would speed up my recovery time. He doesn’t seem like a total idiot, so I listened.”

  His lips curl up in a lopsided smile. “Well, let’s see if we can move me into the range of not being an idiot at all. Let’s change up the exercises, your upper back is still too tight and I notice it’s impacting your lower back and hips. Lie down, face up.”

  My back hits the vinyl, my eyes locked on the ceiling as he works with my hips and lower back. Curling my fingers, I press my nails into my palms to ground me. It doesn’t work. My eyes flutter closed as I follow his warm touch.

  The trampoline is cool on our backs as we stare at the stars. Everyone has left the party and we’re finally able to relax, enjoy our time together without any pretenses. Landon’s fingers leave trails of tingles as he runs them up and down my arm, my sharp inhalation filling the silence.

  I bounce as Landon rolls onto his side.

  “I love how responsive you are to my touch, the sounds you make are so sexy.” He moans, his expression heated.

  He presses into me, shifting until he’s balancing on his forearms over me. We’ve been getting more intimate and I’ve been struggling with the fact that he’s still with Melissa, but when we’re together and he’s touching me, that guilt fades just for the moment as I lose myself in the way he makes me feel.

  When his lips brush against mine, I press up into him eager to connect our bodies even more. A moan slips out when he drops his weight onto me, his hands burying into my hair. I love the way his fingers massage my scalp in time with his kiss. Every part of me tingles, lost in the way he makes me feel.

  “Stay with me. Please. I can’t bear the thought of not holding you in my arms tonight.”

  I feel him standing above me before I hear him. “Did you fall asleep?” I pry open my eyes, blinking away the blurriness only to be met with his devastating smile, his expression teasing.

  “No, just—thinking.” Cringing at the throaty sound of my voice, I clear my throat and sit up, allowing him to help me off the table before stepping away in an effort to ignore the heat in his eyes.

  For the next thirty minutes he runs me through a series of exercises, tweaking them until he’s happy. My body is tired, my neck sore, by the time we wrap up.

  Tilting my head side to side, I stretch it out. A little whoosh of air escapes when I feel Landon’s large hands land on my shoulders, his thumbs kneading the muscles in my neck.

  I’m putty in his hands as he works out the tension, relaxing to the point I’m wavering on my feet. That is until a moan escapes from my lips. His hands squeeze my shoulders a little tighter, his fingers pressing into my collarbone. I almost take a step back, a step that would press my back into his chest, but I manage to keep my feet planted.

  I won’t go through this again. I won’t be responsible for another person getting hurt.

  His breath is hot on my neck as he exhales, his hands falling away. I take two quick steps forward before turning to grab my jacket.

  I’m completely bundled before I feel capable of meeting Landon’s eyes, my face carefully impassive. He examines my expression, but doesn’t comment as he brushes past me to unlock the door, holding it open for me.

  A blast of cold air whips my hair around me, falling snow hitting me in the face as we exit the building and he locks up behind us. “Ugh. More frickin’ snow.”

  He cocks his head to the side. “You love the snow. You used to talk about it all the time.”

  Hunching in on myself to fight the cold, I look up at him before glancing away as I answer, “I used to love it. I don’t anymore.”

  He doesn’t respond as we cross the road to an Irish pub I’ve never been in. McLaughlin’s.

  The door opens to a dimly lit room filled with music coming from a jukebox. Tables fill the center with booths lining the outer walls. The bar, lit with various beer signs, is against the wall closest to the entrance.

  Landon leads me through the room to a secluded booth in the back corner. His hand brands my lower back as we walk. Even when it falls away, I can still feel the pressure, the heat.

  He sits opposite me, resting his elbows on the table as he leans forward. “You disappeared on me fairly abruptly last night.”

  Tapping my fingers on the table, I lean back and meet his gaze. “Brendan was sleeping in the next room, sleeping and thinking I was in bed next to him, and there I was talking to you. It felt—familiar and wrong,” I bite out, knowing my tone is harsh.

  I won’t lie to him, he’ll see right through it, and if we’re going to be friends, I need to be clear. The boundaries are already blurring and I can’t seem to stop toeing the line. I know it’s wrong, I know I would be upset if Br
endan was behaving this way, yet here I am. That thought gives me pause and I pull out my cell to send him a quick text. He deserves to know where I am—and who I’m with.

  Me: Hi. I know you’re with clients, but I wanted to let you know Landon invited me for a drink. We’re at McLaughlin’s.

  Sliding my phone back into its pocket, I resume tapping my fingers on the table.

  “Would he be upset if you’d been talking to Blake or Dawn?” His tone is curious, but there is something else I can’t quite figure out. He leans back, his knee brushing mine as he stretches out.

  Glaring at him, I shift my knee away. “It’s different, and you know it.”

  He sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m being an ass, it’s just so difficult being near you and knowing I can’t brush your hair away from you face or hold your hand in mine.” He laughs bitterly, shaking his head. “That’s my fault and I hate myself for it.”

  It’s at this moment that a server finally appears to take our drink orders. I don’t look away from Landon, his form blurring a bit as he orders a margarita for me, my favorite, and a beer for himself.

  Chewing on my lower lip, I look down for a moment until I feel strong enough to meet his steady gaze and hold it.

  “Landon, please don’t.” Despite my best intentions, the words are laced with pain. Looking down, I whisper the words I can’t say while staring into those piercing blue eyes. “Maybe this is too hard. I can’t do this if it’s going to undermine my relationship with Brendan. I can’t do this if the conversation turns to topics he couldn’t be present to listen to. I won’t do it. I can’t go through this again, I can’t do that to him or myself.”

  “Shit, Allie, I’m sorry.” His voice is hoarse, strained. “I can do this. I swear. I want you in my life. It’s not too hard, we can be friends.”

  My knuckles turn white as I grip the edge of the table. He means the words he says, I know he does, but I can feel it in every fiber of my being that saying the words and meaning them is completely different from following through with the intent.

  Releasing my grasp on the table, I smooth invisible wrinkles out as I lift my head once more. His gaze is pained, repentant. “I want you in my life too.”

  I do. I will cut him out if I need to, but the thought of losing him for a second time is so painful, I need to close my eyes. Why is life so cruel? Things didn’t work back then and now we’re in a situation where both of us are going to get hurt, it’s not a matter of if, but when. The feelings between us are too intense and my heart still has cracks in it from the first time.

  He sags in relief, giving me a lopsided grin. I can tell by the look he shoots in my direction that his heart still hurts too.

  For the longest time I thought it was one-sided, but now I know better. That night we were both wrecked and yet here we are, repeating history. Both of us know it, neither of us strong enough to stop it. But maybe I am strong enough, maybe I can keep the boundaries. We’re older, wiser, and I like to think I’m capable of controlling myself.

  Our drinks arrive and we fall into easy conversation as one drink turns into two, the awkwardness fading into the background. I don’t know how much times passes, but our glasses are empty and the pub is near empty when my phone dings with a text.

  Brendan: You sure are beautiful when you smile like that.

  Snapping my head up, I search the bar, my smile becoming slightly forced when I see him meandering through the tables toward us. I automatically glance at Landon when Brendan slides into the booth next to me, his arm wrapping around my shoulders as he pulls me in for a hug and a kiss.

  It’s not possessive or jealous, it’s just Brendan, and yet—him just showing up puts a weird feeling in my chest.

  I meet Landon’s gaze once more, the introduction falling from my lips when I see the strained smile on his face. Clearing my throat, I pull my lips into a bright smile. “Brendan, this is Landon. Landon, this is my boyfriend, Brendan.”

  Despite my history with Landon, Brendan’s smile is friendly as he reaches across the table to shake Landon’s hand. I filled him in this morning on everything up to this point, and in true Brendan fashion, he was completely understanding and supportive.

  My heart pounds in my chest as two different aspects of my life collide, my ears ringing as Brendan strikes up a conversation with Landon about his work. Brendan sips his beer, his eyes light with interest. He seems completely oblivious to the tension surrounding us as I shoot furtive glances across the table.

  This is what I was worried about. This feeling of doing something that I shouldn’t. This time the excitement is gone, because even with the guilt, sneaking around with Landon always had an element of excitement. The thrill of doing something I know is wrong isn’t there, at least I know I’ve learned something.

  I sag in relief when the bartender rings the bell announcing last call. Brendan glances down at me in confusion over my physical reaction to the bell, while Landon throws a bunch of bills onto the table and slides out of the booth.

  The silence is awkward as we walk out together, pausing by Brendan’s car. With a lingering kiss and a promise from me that I’ll be home soon, Brendan turns to Landon and shakes his hand again.

  “It was nice to meet you.” His voice is genuine, one hundred percent Brendan.

  Landon glances down to the firm grasp Brendan has on his hand before giving him a small smile. “Likewise.”

  They drop hands and Brendan slides into his car and shuts the door. As he drives away, I hustle to my car with my head dropped low, a heavy weight settling over me. Landon creates a wall of heat in the chill of the night air as he walks me to my car.

  My skin is tingling and my heart is pounding while I try to think of something to say that will fill the silence but is safe.

  “He doesn’t like me,” Landon says in a quiet voice before I can come up with something to say. He glances down at me as we reach my car, waiting for my response. My car beeps as I unlock it and he opens the door for me, but I don’t get in.

  I sigh. “Brendan likes everyone. He just wonders why we’re hanging out after what happened, he knows who you are and he knows about our history, I filled him in this morning. I told you, I’m not lying to him.” I move to slide into my car, but I’m suddenly pulled into the warmth of Landon’s arms, his massive size enfolding me. I hug him back, sinking into it before I drag myself away.

  “Goodnight, Landon.”

  Getting into my car, I shut the door without a word and start the engine. A breath whooshes out of me as I grip the steering wheel. Conflicting emotions wage war inside my chest the entire drive home.

  It was unusual for Brendan to show up randomly, he’s never done that when I’ve been out with friends. It means he either felt I needed support, or he’s jealous for the first time in six years. Guilt sinks its vicious claws into me because I know that it would be my fault if jealousy drove the impromptu visit. I know that Brendan wouldn’t be jealous unless he felt our relationship, our happiness, was being threatened.

  It’s been four days since Brendan showed up at the pub, four days since I saw Allie hug and kiss another man. In those four days, I haven’t been able to think about anything else. Watching them together was one of the most painful things I’ve ever experienced. A small taste of what Allie went through with me and Melissa.

  It was eye opening, the fact that she trusted me and dealt with my bullshit for nine months, I wouldn’t get away with that now. We were both so young, but the connection was real—is real—losing her was probably the biggest loss of my life.

  I’ve felt short of breath from the moment he sat down and I still feel like I can’t get enough air. Seeing the live version as opposed to pictures online, it was complete torture.

  It’s obvious he loves Allie, there’s no misreading the way he looks at her. And as much as it pains me to admit, she loves him back. There are years of time spent and affection built on their foundation, whereas we ha
d nine months of intense falling.

  A part of me was hoping he wasn’t good enough for her, that he didn’t appreciate her or was uninterested in the relationship. Scoffing, I shake my head. Only an idiot would have Allie and not appreciate her.

  Melissa is laughing at something Tyler said, something I probably should’ve heard, but all I can focus on is Allie. Her hips sway to the music as she dances with her friends, her smile making my heart beat a little faster. I love her smile. It makes my day better every time I see it.

  She hasn’t noticed me sitting with Melissa and our friends, she’s distracted by the music and how much fun she’s having. I should turn away, but I can’t find the will.

  Someone kicks me under the table. Jerking my head over, I see Ty glaring at me.

  He mouths, “Dude, what the hell are you doing?”

  Shaking my head, I ignore him and scan the room in an attempt not to be so obvious. As my gaze glides over Allie, I meet her hazel eyes. Eyes that look sad as she glances at where Melissa is tucked right against me.

  I recall the feeling of my stomach dropping when Allie turned her back to me, returning her attention to her friend and thinking, “I need to fix this soon or I’m going to lose her.” Wasn’t that the truth. Forcing my thoughts to the present, I switch the plastic bag I’m holding to my other hand, pull my phone from my pocket and scroll through the messages from my brothers.

  Kellan: Where are you? I half-expected you to be on the couch with a pint of ice cream in hand with the amount of moping you’ve been doing.

  Me: I’m finally returning those shoes. And I’m not moping.

  Josh: You’re moping.