He wore two days’ worth of time apart well. I could see it in the scruff over his jaw, the darkness around his eyes. It gave him an edge—made him appear not even the smallest bit soft.
But that laugh softened it all, and softened my heart too. Not like it wasn’t already a pile of pudding, oozing in my chest. God, why did he have to be so attractive right now? Seeing him again more clearly defined all that turmoil in my chest. I wanted this man more than I’d wanted anything I’d ever stolen. Yeah, even more than the suede Christian Louboutin boots with the spiked heels I’d stolen once and worn every day for three months.
My legs swung nervously, but I kept my face placid as I tried to figure out what to say to him. I’d rehearsed my speech only about fifteen dozen times on the way here, but now that I sat, clad in a Catwoman-inspired leather suit, all of that went out the door and my mouth went dry.
“Hi,” he said.
I considered it for a minute. For greetings, it was mild considering what he could’ve said.
“Just thought I’d drop in,” I told him, and carefully set the screwdriver on the counter. “I see you haven’t heeded my advice about moving your security panel.”
“Maybe I was hoping you’d come back and prove to me again why its placement was terrible.” He braced his hand on the back of his couch. “You should work for a home security company.”
“Too many basements,” I said. “Spiders. Mice. Scary furnaces like the one in Home Alone.”
He gave me a small smile, but I was still nervous. I could say so much, but my thoughts had tangled like cold spaghetti and I didn’t have a fork handy. “You’re out of sandwich fixings.”
“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow and damn it—it did spectacular things to his face.
“I’m hungry.”
“Oh?” He repeated. He wasn’t going to make this easy on me.
I sighed and spun the screwdriver in a circle on the island. “I’ve been hungry before,” I said softly, watching as the handle spun so fast it blurred. “It’s not a big deal, but I’ve known what it’s like to feel like your stomach is shrinking in on itself.” I swallowed and raised my eyes to his. “I’ve never felt as famished as I have the last couple days.”
“I can order a pizza.”
“I don’t think a pizza will satisfy,” I said, and then shook my head. “Fuck it, I am literally and figuratively hungry. Starving, even. Order the pizza. Extra mushrooms.”
“Extra mushrooms?”
“So you can tell your mom you got in a healthy serving of vegetables today.” I rolled my eyes and hopped off the counter. “Kind of rude of you not to offer me a drink, since I’m a guest and all, but luckily I know where everything is.” I crouched and rummaged through the cabinet, noting a significant dent in his supply since I’d first opened this door. Behind me, X spoke softly into the phone and I breathed a sigh. Maybe once I got some carbs and cheese in me, I wouldn’t be so anxious. But the booze should tide me over until then.
After grabbing two glasses, I straightened, bumping into X who immediately steadied me with his hands on my shoulders.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want him to touch me—I did. Desperately so, which was why I stepped back far enough for his hands to fall.
“Uh, want one?” I asked, holding up the whiskey and two glasses.
“Do I need one?”
I was already pouring my first one. “I do.” I tossed it back and stared into my empty glass. “Gotta soften up my limbs; it’ll make the groveling that much easier.”
“Is groveling necessary?”
I closed my eyes, clutching the glass I’d refilled. Hearing that from him, knowing by him saying it that he’d already forgiven me, was enough to make my heart slide right through the gaps in my rib cage, to puddle at his feet. I didn’t have much to offer him outside of that, as pathetic an offering as it was.
“I said some super shitty stuff.” I met his eyes and held them. “I need to tell you I’m sorry.”
As I tossed back the second glass of whiskey, I felt it burn a path down my throat right to my belly. I rubbed my hands over my neck, wanting to cool the heat but unable to.
“Do you need to get intoxicated to apologize?”
“That’s not why I’m drinking.” I shook my head and picked up the bottle to pour again, my hand shaking the glass hard enough that it sloshed over the opening, spilling all over my hand and the counter.
“Why are you drinking?”
“We’ll get to that.” I held up a finger to him and sipped my third glass, not wanting to drink so fast that I couldn’t even remember what I’d come here to say. “How long until the pizza’s here?”
“According to their app, it’s in the oven right now. The pizza place is about five minutes away.”
Okay, so I had nine minutes to kill before the pizza got here. The leather outfit, though sexy, was suddenly a really bad idea. The whiskey was rapidly warming my body, causing the tight fabric to make me sweat even more. Perfect, because what I really needed was to be a super sweaty mess right now.
“So, you were talking to your mom?” I asked, pointing at the phone he’d placed on the counter.
He braced his arms on the island as he stared at me. “Mm-hmm.”
“That’s good,” I said absently, working through what to say.
I needed to apologize, to just get it out and over with so I could move on to the more painful parts. Rip off the bandage and dig into the wound a little bit. So, I ripped the bandage off.
“I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry. I said some horrible stuff. Maybe I was trying to inspire a reaction from you, but that wasn’t the time or place to do it.” I set the glass down and faced him full on. “You’re right, you do know things about me—and in the grand scheme of things, I’d rather you know and understand my neuroses than know that my favorite color is green.”
“Green? Really?”
I gave him a look, like Why are you interrupting me? and continued. “It doesn’t matter that you’ve only known me a couple weeks, because you know me better than anyone else in my life does. Doesn’t that sound completely pathetic?”
“Pathetic isn’t the word I’d use. Lonely is more apt.”
I pursed my lips as I considered. “Okay, that’s probably a better word choice. I haven’t had anyone stick, ever. Not biological parents, foster parents, foster siblings. My social circle consists of my friend Kissy from the diner and the people in therapy.” I cocked my head and lifted an eyebrow. “Now, come on, that sounds pathetic.”
He waited a beat before succumbing to a nod. “Yeah, that’s pretty sad.”
I laughed. “I mean, my social circle is hardly bigger than yours.”
He narrowed his eyes at my remark, but he didn’t appear angry.
“Anyway. I don’t count on people, but I’ve learned that I can’t trust that anyone in my life has the right intentions. They’re either using me to get to someone else, using me as a scapegoat, or using me for their benefit.”
Shit, this sucked. I was so tempted to toss back the rest of the whiskey, but I wanted to be lucid, and I didn’t want to start dripping sweat.
“I’ve been screwed over by a lot of people. People I’d get into messes with usually abandoned me once the mess was done with, or mid-way through, which was infinitely worse each time it happened. So when we got tossed together, I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like, you’d call the cops and get rid of me. No one would believe me over you,” I said with a palm out toward him. “Me, a felon. You, an upstanding member of Chicago’s royal elite. You probably fill the pockets of the very people who’d arrest me.
“So, I’m sorry for not giving you the same trust you gave me. You followed my ideas, no matter how silly they were. You gave me the benefit of the doubt, and I didn’t give the same to you.” I took another sip and swirled around the remaining whiskey in my glass. “When’s that pizza going to be here?” I scratched my head, feeling anxious as my apology was ramping up.
He glanced at his phone. “Out of the oven. So probably just a few minutes more.”
“Okay. The thing is, I have trusted you through this whole process. I don’t randomly stay with guys for days at a time, even if I’m tied to them because we murdered my ex-drug dealer and conspired to hide his body.”
“Because that happens often?” he asked sardonically.
“Usually only on Tuesdays,” I said with a shrug. “That group counseling can really screw with your head.”
His smile at my sarcasm was welcome, but I wasn’t nearly done yet. Shit. I needed the pizza to get here two minutes ago so I could keep drinking.
“I wouldn’t normally trust some guy I’ve known for five seconds with the stuff I entrusted you with. I barely knew you, and you killed Ron for me.” I tapped my finger on the island. “By the way, that reminds me. I need a new cast iron pan.”
“Noted.”
I twisted the ends of my hair nervously. “I’m so sorry, X. I should not have said those things to you—”
“A lot of it was true,” he interrupted. “The reason I go to therapy is to cure me of this social anxiety I have. And my irrational fears of what might happen if I do venture more than a few blocks away. I need to take back my life. I know that.”
“I’m still sorry for saying it the way I did. I could’ve worked on my delivery, but I was so pissed at you that I couldn’t see straight.”
“I should’ve asked for your opinion when Claude swooped in. I understand that now. At the time, I was only trying to protect you. I don’t want you to go back to prison. Not now.”
“Yes, you should’ve but that still doesn’t excuse what I said.”
He gave me a wider smile this time, one that did nothing to calm the rapid beats of my heart.
“I wish you wouldn’t smile at me like that. It’s too much.”
“What’s too much?”
“You.” I pointed at him. “Me.” I pointed at myself. “Us.” I waved a hand between us.
He moved toward me, but didn’t come all the way. It was as if his magnets shifted, recognizing where he needed to stand. “What I feel for you scared me. I imagined a hundred ways you or I could fuck it up, and every result left me hurting. And I didn’t want that again. What I’d gone through with my ex wasn’t worth repeating. But then there you were with all your neuroses, somehow charming me without even trying.”
“I wouldn’t say I didn’t try…” he began. I couldn’t read him, he was completely impassive. It was unsettling, and made my next words shaky.
“You know what I mean.” I leveled him with a look. “Shit, X, I just…” I held a fist over my heart. “I have so much for you right here. It’s big and scary and I’m worried that if I hold onto it too hard, it’ll crack in my hands and shatter at my feet. But I don’t want to let it loose, either. I’m selfish. I want a dozen more nights watching Titanic, a bunch more lap dances and sandwiches—preferably at the same time, because I can really work up an appetite. I want all of that because of you. There’s no one else I’d rather have.” I picked up the glass and tossed back the rest of the whiskey. “I’m not drinking because I need courage to apologize.”
“Why then?”
“I am drinking because I’m afraid you’ll reject me. And, at least if you reject me while I’m drunk, you’ll let me stay here to sleep it off and I’ll figure out a million ways to make it up to you while I’m not sleeping.”
He blinked, and opened his mouth to say something just when the doorbell rang.
We both whipped our heads toward the door, and then he moved down the hallway to answer it. Leaving me a basket case of nerves, sweat pooling in my stupid suit. He’d left me hanging. Like the worst possible cliffhanger ever. Sweat formed at my temples and I made a sound of annoyance in the back of my throat.
I heard a few murmurs at the door, but I was too busy running my hands under the cold faucet of the sink and wiping around my brow bone.
Just as I heard his footsteps enter the kitchen, I turned and saw him coming straight for me.
My heart kicked up at the way he leveled me with his gaze. He tossed the pizza box on the counter without looking at it and came right to me, his eyes intent and his mouth in a line. It gave me a little thrill of excitement and anticipation when his hands closed around my waist and he lifted me to sit on the counter.
His mouth was on mine a second later, hot and demanding, a homecoming celebration of our tongues and teeth and hands as we traced a thousand patterns on each other’s skin.
To be in his arms again was the safest I’d ever felt in my whole life. Hearing what he’d said to his mom, how resolute he was in defending me no matter what it came to, had secured the slot that he fit into in my heart.
My arms wrapped around his neck and I couldn’t hold him close enough, my mouth leaving his so I could suck in a breath and look him in the eyes.
“You left me hanging for a minute there.”
He framed my face with his hands. “I know. I’ll make it up to you.” He reached behind himself and slid the pizza box to the edge of the island, flipping the lid a second later.
The pizza smelled damned glorious. It made my mouth water almost as much as X did. When he turned to face me, he was holding up a slice in his hands and brought it to my mouth. With my eyes locked on his, I took a bite of it and chewed, closing my eyes and nearly moaning. “Sweet baby Jesus, this is…wow.”
“Right?”
I felt a towel dab at my face. “Why were you splashing yourself with water?” he asked and I opened my eyes, bringing my head down to face him.
“Oh, because I’m having an issue with my choice of wardrobe tonight.” I gestured to my outfit. “I was trying to be sexy. To make me irresistible to you. So you couldn’t kick me out.”
He smiled softly, staring directly into my eyes. “You really think I’d do that?”
I thought about it for a moment. “Not now, but yes, I selected this outfit with that being my exact worry.”
“Lucy,” he said softly, and I practically melted from the way he said it. “You don’t have to try to be sexy. You’ve been that since the moment you kicked your chair over in therapy to get my attention.”
“Could you tell, even then?”
“No. But knowing you the way I do now, I get it.” He fed me another bite of the pizza. “You’re sexy, Lucy. So damn sexy. In this outfit—in no clothes. In my clothes. In my house. Hell, there’s not a single thing you do that hasn’t made me realize just how irresistible you are. It’s haunted me, really. You’re disruptive, wild, and just the kind of the person I needed.”
I took another bite as I took in all the things he said, feeling the weight that had burdened me grow lighter. “You need me?”
He nodded. “But more importantly, I want you. It’s the wanting that’s selfish, and I want you.”
I let out a relieved laugh and wrapped my arms around his neck. “Well, you’re more than welcome to have me.”
His mouth descended and he licked along my lower lip. “You had a little sauce here,” he whispered against my skin. He kept moving, sucking along the skin of my neck, over the line of my chest.
“I’m a very messy eater,” I said on a breath, my head falling back.
“Very,” he murmured against the top of the front zipper of my outfit. As he slid the zipper down my chest, he looked me in the eyes. “I’ve been waiting for someone like you for a long time.”
My heart thudded painfully, but I was grateful that it managed to stay solid despite its tendencies for going to mush around him. “Oh yeah? You’ve always dreamed of going around as vigilantes and ridding the world of nasty drug dealers?”
“Not quite what I dreamed of being in kindergarten,” he said, nuzzling along my neck as he pulled the zipper lower and lower, exposing more and more inches of skin in his blessedly cool air conditioning. “I’m not letting you out of sight anytime soon—just forewarning you.”
“Well, I have those handcuffs…”
He looked me in the eyes. “I don’t need them. I’m already hooked.”
“That’s damn handy,” I said, barely able to speak coherent words at the way he traced a finger over my chest. “Because I’m hooked on you too, Xylophone.” He smiled, only mildly exasperated. “And I don’t have the keys anyway.”
He laughed, pressing his forehead against mine. “That doesn’t surprise me, which, coming from you is shocking.” He brushed my hair aside and kissed the shell of my ear. “Everything about you surprises me. In all the best, wildest ways.”
“You’ll like this then,” I said, reaching inside the suit and pulling out what I had for him. I held up his watch. “I didn’t even hock it.” Dropping it in his palm, I gave him a smile that showed how impressed I was with myself for not selling it at the first pawn shop I found.
He tugged at my zipper. “That’s a good surprise,” he said.
“Well, take this stupid sex suit off of me; I’m sure I can come up with a few more surprises.”
He obliged me and smiled. “Looking forward to it.”