Sam
THE FIRST THING I wanted to do after leaving the hospital was call London and tell her that her boyfriend was a lying sack of shit. But I’d watched enough Lifetime movies with my mother to surmise that lashing out would only paint me in an unforgiving light. A jealous, vindictive light. And that wasn’t me. No, I didn’t have to resort to that because I was the good guy and London would soon see that she was sleeping with the enemy.
There was no way in hell I would recklessly accuse him without proof. And believe you me, I was certain that SOB was hiding something beneath that very shallow surface of his. A huge part of me sensed he was being territorial because he knew I was also vying for London’s heart. What guy wouldn’t react to a threat like that when someone like London was at stake? But it wasn’t just that. There was more to it. Something I couldn’t quite figure out.
But I would. I was determined as fuck.
First I’d uncover whatever it was Bryce was hiding. Actually, first I’d get in touch with that asshole Memphis myself and then I’d get the proof I needed to show London who Bryce really was. A self-righteous, pompous prick.
I pulled my car over after exiting the parking garage and driving a few blocks from the hospital. I needed out of there, away from him, but there was no way I could wait until I was home to deal with Memphis. The adrenaline from telling Bryce the game was on had me pumped and ready to do whatever it took to step up and get shit done. Ella needed a kidney—my kidney—and Bryce was biding time by putting this whole rejection rate bullshit in London’s head. And while we were on the topic of Monroe women organs—London’s heart belonged to me.
I couldn’t wait to see the look on the good ol’ doctor’s face when she picked me. Because she would pick me, and not only because I was about to prove Bryce unworthy of her love. Because we belonged together.
For as long as I could remember, London was the air that I breathed, the reason my blood coursed through my veins, the only woman my heart beat for. And now I knew she felt the same because ever since I told her, the way she looked at me had changed.
She didn’t even have to admit it with words; her face said it all. She could no longer glance my way without a tinge of pink blushing her flawless olive complexion. The smile she tried to hide when I walked into a room or when our eyes met was unmistakable, and fucking adorable. I sensed these changes because I could define the meaning of every one of London’s expressions in detail. I had studied them for so long. And in all that time, I prayed and hoped that one day she would see me as more than a friend.
Now there was no denying it had finally happened. Regardless of what Bryce said back there, I knew the truth. She didn’t love him. She wasn’t moving in with him. And Memphis wasn’t the best match for their mother.
Memphis. What a fuck-up. I hated holding on to what I knew and not telling London. But I couldn’t. If I wanted to protect her, I had to keep it from her. And even if there wasn’t a legitimate reason why Memphis hadn’t returned any of his sister’s messages, everyone knew he was merely a ghost of the past. He hadn’t been around for years, and no matter how hard Bryce tried to convince the girls that he was the man for the job, he wasn’t.
In an effort to get Bryce off our backs and give everyone the peace of mind they deserved, I would take matters into my own hands and quash this shit for good. I didn’t have the most recent phone contact for Memphis, but I did have his email. I pulled up the address and started typing, my brain moving faster than my thumbs allowed.
Subject: Do the right fucking thing for once in your life, man.
Memphis,
I hope this email finds you well and if it does, you might consider stopping right here and going back through your inbox to read the most recent emails from your sister. Yeah, London. Remember her? She’s been trying to reach you to no avail, and to cut to the chase . . . time is running out.
As you probably already know, Ella’s health has taken a turn for the worse. Just to reiterate what I’m sure London has already told you, the doctors have placed your mother on the transplant list. She needs a kidney. Actually, I should rephrase that. She has a perfectly viable kidney at her disposal—I’ve been tested and confirmed as a match, but her doctor wants you to be tested as well before he can go ahead with the surgery she so desperately needs.
They fucking need you, dude. If it were up to me, they’d forget about you the way you’ve so conveniently forgotten about them. But being that Ella’s risk of rejection would be less of an issue if the kidney comes from a blood relative . . . I’ll say it again in case you didn’t get the picture the first ten times . . . they need you.
Time to get your head out of your ass. I have no idea how you got yourself into this mess or why you turned your back on your family, but I know what’s going on. I know about Hunter, I know about Vegas, and I know you’re in deeper shit than you’re willing to admit. Don’t worry, I haven’t said a word to your sister or your mother. They don’t need this shit right now; they have enough on their plates. But I want to make myself perfectly clear—my silence isn’t to protect you, my only concern is my girl’s safety.
On that note, I urge you to step the fuck up. At the very least, give them an answer so they can move forward. Tell them no for all I care, but don’t ignore them. They deserve better than that.
I went on to include every possible phone number and email where he could reach me, London, Ella, and even that prick of a doctor. I didn’t like him, but Ella’s life was in his hands, and doing right by those girls was first and foremost on my list of priorities.
A close second on that list was figuring out what the fuck made Bryce so goddamn entitled. He hardly knew London. They’d only been dating for a few months. Doctor or not, there was no way he was qualified to call the shots when it came to what was best for London. Ella, maybe. But not my girl.
I’d admit, when he dropped the bomb that London was moving in with him I saw red. For a split second, all hope was lost and my pride sank to the earth below my feet. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized Bryce was fucking with me. If London made a decision like that, I’d be the first to know.
I promised her she would never lose me, even if she didn’t choose me. While it would kill me if she didn’t, I would never go back on my word. She knew that. She knew what we had was unbreakable and she wasn’t a coward. If she truly loved Bryce, if she made the decision to move in with him, she would’ve come to me.
I could simply go to London and ask her for the truth, but she had her hands full right now. I was dead honest when I told Bryce the only reason I wasn’t putting up a fight was to not make this harder on her. But that didn’t mean I had to go easy on him.
If I took my last breath proving Bryce wrong, it would be worth it.
When I got home, I immediately changed and headed out for a run. I pushed myself until sweat soaked my shirt and my calf muscles burned. The entire time my feet pounded the pavement, my brain worked on overdrive, contemplating a way to get Bryce to show his true colors.
By the time I got home, my head was ready to explode. The pounding headache brought on by my persistent vendetta lasted well into my shower, and long after I settled on the couch with a beer and my laptop.
I Googled Bryce’s name and searched his recent posts on Facebook, but the throbbing at my temples was too painful to dig as deep as I wanted. Part of me was also pissed because I hadn’t heard from London all afternoon. She hadn’t called or texted to find out why I left without a good-bye. Which left her with Bryce, who probably comforted her by feeding her more lies. God only knew what he told her once I was gone. Bryce now knew where I stood—I wasn’t walking away without a fight. But I understood his desperation to win London for himself, and that meant Bryce would go to any lengths to do so.
Slamming the computer shut and tossing it to the side, I rested my head against the back of the couch and closed my eyes. When a soft knock sounded at the door, I imagined I’d fallen asleep and was dreaming. But then the knob jiggled and the knock became louder so I was forced to my feet to see who it was.
Only I knew who it was before opening the door. My heart drummed louder and faster than usual, knowing I would meet London’s honeyed eyes beyond the slab of wood that separated us.
Like an idiot, I fingered my still damp hair in place and checked the freshness of my breath by cupping my hand over my mouth and exhaling. London had seen me at my best and and at my worst, never failing to accept me for who I was, but now that my heart was on the line, this shit mattered.
When I was certain I was presentable and could hide my rampant eagerness, I undid the lock and opened the door, only to prove my intuition correct.
“Hey,” was all she said.
“Hi.” I smiled back.
She paused for a moment, looking down at her feet and then back up at me.
“Can I come in?” That glowing blush that gave her away had already spread to the apples of her cheeks. She was so fucking beautiful. Did she even know?
My chest deflated with a heavy huff and I rested against the door frame. No, she had no idea. No clue that just the sight of her made me weak. When she was this close, this vulnerable, it took everything in my power not to ravish her.
But I knew I had to wait. I sensed there was a purpose to this visit. This would be the turning point. I’d been nothing but patient for all these years. I would wait another decade if I knew she’d be mine at the end of it. It would be torture, but I could hold off a little while longer before showing her what my body was built to do to hers.