Adam Levine welcomed me when I walked into my apartment. At least she wasn’t playing that depressing song she usually did when she was sad. That was a good sign. The cushions on the couch were straightened and the throw was neatly folded, but there was no sign of Haven.
I called out her name as I walked to the kitchen island. Setting down our coffees and breakfast, I removed my coat when, “I’ll be right out,” came from the guest room.
She appeared a few minutes later with her hair damp from a shower, hanging around her shoulders in sexy curls. Paired with faded jeans, the oversized UCLA sweatshirt she had on may have hid the outline of her hips and the fullness of her breasts, but it did little to erase my memory of her body in that pink dress she wore last week. Just as it did that night, my excitement began to grow from remembering the way the fabric skimmed over her sexy curves. That led to thoughts of her robe falling open when we made out last night on the couch.
Forcing the images away, I busied myself by grabbing milk, sugar, and plates. That was until I looked up and my eyes betrayed me when they zoned in on her ass as she bent over to retrieve her handbag off the coffee table. Did her ass always look that good in jeans? Had I ever stared at my best friend’s ass to even notice?
Shit.
The music came to a stop and she straightened causing me to mumble, “Oh, thank God.”
“You pretend you don’t like him, but you can’t fool me, Mooner.” She misinterpreted my words. My sigh of relief had nothing to do with Adam-fucking-Levine.
“He sucks,” I played along.
“You’re just jealous of his amazing talent and stunning looks. You know how much I love dimples.”
“Yeah, I know,” I grumbled. The memory of when she drunk confessed the things she would allow my cousin, Jack, to do to her simply because of his dimples came to mind.
“Instant aphrodisiac for me.” She threw me a dazzling smile and took a seat facing me at the island. I placed her blueberry muffin on a plate before passing it to her. “Thank you. You didn’t have to go out in this weather, though. Coffee would have sufficed.”
“We both know how cranky you get without a proper breakfast.” I quirked up a brow and added, “Only for you would I brave icy rain and wind, by the way.”
“I feel very special.” She smirked teasingly, but now that she was sitting a foot away I could see sadness in her eyes.
“You should,” I answered in all seriousness. She accepted the coffee from my outstretched hand, but didn’t make eye contact or respond. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” Her small smile and nod didn’t convince me. “Hey, I’m sorry I passed out on you last night. You couldn’t have been comfortable.”
“I was very comfortable.” Until I forced myself to take a cold shower. “I was going to put you to bed, but I didn’t want to chance waking you.”
“I slept great.”
I nodded, falling into an uncomfortable silence. We picked up our coffees, took a long sip, and placed our cups back on the granite. Our movements were so synchronized it was comical.
I pointed to her damp hair and asked, “Did you use my shower?”
“No.”
“You’re so stubborn.”
“I just took a quick one. It would have been a tease if I used yours.”
She got another nod from me and then more silence. “Um… so, want to do something lazy and mindless today, maybe a Dexter marathon?” Haven loved Dexter.
A genuine smile spread over her lips. “As much as I’d hate to miss that, I can’t. I’m going to my place.”
Instantly, my good mood plummeted. “Haven, I said I didn’t want you going back there.”
“I have to. Knowing the mess that’s waiting for me? I need to go and straighten things up. I want to change the locks, and…”
“I’ll get a cleaning crew there tomorrow.”
“I don’t want anyone else going through my stuff. I need to do it myself.”
Her eyes held mine for a moment in a battle of wills. “Okay, then I’ll come with you. As soon as we’re done eating,” I retorted.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Again, we engaged in a staring contest. Her stubbornness infuriated me. I aggressively tried to tear open the wrapping on my bagel. Looking up, I saw a small smile lift the corner of her lips. “Who tapes a bagel?” I threw the thing to the counter frustrated over how she could frustrate me. She picked it up, and with an expert touch released my bagel from its waxed paper confines. Handing it back, she shook her head while laughing. “I’m glad I amuse you.”
“Daily.” Looking smug, she popped a piece of muffin into her mouth. “So, as I was saying, there’s no need to go with me. Lizzy is meeting me there, and Elliott said he’d help as well.”
“You called him?”
“He’s been texting me to see how I am,” she responded defensively.
Jealously consumed me in an irrational way. In spite of it, I bit out, “Why can you accept help from him and not me?”
“He’s my friend.”
“I’m your friend, too… more than a friend.”
Her expression softened. “I know you are. I just need some space, okay?”
And just like that I felt like a tool. How could I blame her? I ran a hand through my hair and nodded petulantly. “I’m sorry,” I uttered. She reached across the island and took my other hand in hers. The warmth of her touch sent a zip up my arm.
“Let’s not overthink things,” she said, just as I was trying to comprehend why, by simply touching me, my heart rate began to spike. When she released me, I almost clamped my free hand over hers to keep her skin on mine.
Seriously, what the fuck?
“I feel like we’re walking on eggshells around each other,” she went on to say. “It’s really not who we are. Can we just try to act normal?”
Was she serious?
Normal?
Once again, I had a fucking hard-on I had to hide behind my kitchen island, I’ve jacked off to her visual twice in a week, and I had to stop myself from storming around the island and throwing her over my shoulder… none of which was normal behavior.
Yet, I said, “Yes,” as a response to her question.
“Okay, good.” She picked a piece of muffin off the top and erotically slipped it into her mouth. Okay, I made that up… but it looked erotic from where I stood. “You have a busy week. Do you want to go over your schedule now?” she asked, again acting normal.
I was beginning to hate that word—normal.
“Sure,” I snipped.
She narrowed her eyes at my response before pulling out her phone. My mind raced with all these new emotions that came out of the blue. Haven recapped my upcoming week, but it was the mention of Joyce that brought my attention back to the conversation.
“What about her?”
“She sent three emails, and a fourth to your private account. She must think I don’t monitor that one because she said…” Haven looked down at her phone with a snide look on her face. “Where is it? Oh, here it is. ‘That assistant of yours is very irritating. You’re harder to reach than the President. Call me, Vaughn. I’m getting annoyed.’” Two large brown eyes speared me with a piercing glare. “Can you take care of this, please?”
“I’ll handle it.”
“Thank you.” The barstool she sat on swiveled to the right and she climbed off. “I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.”
“You’re coming back, right?” The panic in my voice was unmistakable.
“I’m really fine to stay at my place tonight, Vaughn. Now that the shock has worn…”
“Please don’t be difficult. I don’t want you there. Just stay here until we talk about it?”
She released an audible sigh. “Fine, I’ll be back later. We’ll talk then.”
“Fine,” I barked. Once she had on her coat and grabbed her bag, I softened my tone. “Haven, be careful.”
Her steps halted before she nodded with a smile. “I will. I promise.”
Two seconds later she was out my door, and I instantly missed her.
After spending most of my morning in the gym trying to punish my body to alleviate some of the confusion, I discovered it wasn’t working.
On the way back to my apartment, my doorman Victor stopped me. “Dr. Vaughn. You have a delivery.”
I waited while he retreated to the office and a few seconds later he carried out a huge gift basket of apples of all varieties.
“She dropped them off about an hour ago.”
“She? It wasn’t a delivery service?”
“Oh no, Sir. She said she carried it herself from the market,” he said in his thick Russian accent. “It very heavy. She so tiny, I surprise she could carry. Very pretty girl. I like blondes.”
“Um… thank you, Hector. Would you like some? I couldn’t possibly eat all of these by myself.”
“Oh, thank you,” he said with a huge smile. Before I could do so myself, he sliced open the cellophane and picked out a half dozen, placing them one by one on the marble reception desk. “Thank you, thank you,” he repeated.
“You’re very welcome.”
A bit unnerved, I lifted my gift and made my way to my apartment. To be honest, I was freaked out she knew where I lived. Once inside, I texted her an impersonal thank you. I couldn’t encourage her. Whatever she thought she wanted from me had to be deflected and discouraged… immediately. There was a time not long ago the thought of a meeting her, maybe even starting something up between us, intrigued me. Now that things with Haven have taken a weird turn, I couldn’t begin to think about this person who could be unstable.
In spite of my preoccupied thoughts, there were a few things I managed to accomplish. Like emailing Joyce to let her know it wasn’t a good time for a visit. The fact I didn’t get a response back yet meant she was traveling, thank fuck.
I always enjoyed her company, but I didn’t have the energy to deal with her tenacious behavior. Nothing could stop Joyce when she was horny… and guessing by the email she had sent that Haven saw and read, she was horny for me.
Haven spared me the details—the dirty talk, the things Joyce claimed she was going to do once she got her hands on me. Specifically, what she expected me to do to her. I could imagine Haven’s face when she read the line, I plan on my naked body being pressed up against those windows you told me about as you pound me from behind.
Yeah, it was time to end my fuck-lationship with Joyce. It wasn’t going to be easy, but I needed to have a chat with her sooner than later.
By noon I managed to plan out my shows for the week. That took no time at all, and soon enough I was faced with hours and hours of doing nothing but thinking. The weather stopped me from going for a long walk. Subjecting myself to freezing rain would worsen my mood.
So, I spent the rest of the day watching football without seeing any of the game. My mind reeled, analyzing the last week of my life. Some stranger fixated on me, and was now sending me gifts. The fact she was here, at my home, was creepy. Did she follow me home? The whole thing was messed up.
Then there was Haven. Even I couldn’t have predicted any of this to happen between us. And as I told Haven, now that it has I couldn’t help but believe it would have eventually anyway. We may not have been on a fast track to intimacy, but I wondered if we were heading that way regardless of the slow pace it took. Hindsight was 20/20, and looking back the signs we’d one day end up here now seemed obvious. After all the hours of analysis, I came to the conclusion I needed her, and I wanted her, but her happiness was most important to me.
Haven called once and seemed in good spirits. The male voice in the background meant she did have help. Elliott.
There was just something about the dude that irked me. He had known her all of ten minutes, and the two times I met him he had this possessiveness going on.
Fuck no.
No one got to do that but me.
That was just another thing I needed to talk to Haven about… her relationship with that douche. In spite of the fact she admitted she was in love with me, I knew she was into him. Being with him wouldn’t carry with it all the emotional baggage that came with me.
Should I encourage it because he’d be better for her?
I was a sex therapist who couldn’t see past my own fears. Yes, the possibility of this ruining our relationship was very real. However, wasn’t the possibility it could make it amazing in every way worth the risk? I had to trust that our foundation was solid. If things were to end, and that was the first time I used the word if and not when, we’d simply have to find a way back to being best friends. People did it all the time, and Haven and I were closer than most.
What felt like hours later, the door to my apartment opened and in came Haven.
“Hey,” she said, dumping a small duffle bag on the floor. Her hair was now up in its normal messy ponytail. Her gaze moved to the island and her eyes widened at the basket of apples. “Who’s that from?”
“Apple.”
She cut her gaze to where I sat in the living room. “She sent you apples?”
“Creepy, right?” When she stepped closer I first noticed how tired she looked. “You look exhausted.”
“I am. It was such a mess. I feel better, though,” she said, plopping down beside me with a sigh.
“I should have been there to help you.”
“Truth?”
“Of course.”
“You’re never much of a help.”
I pretended to be shocked, and then conceded. “True.” Without asking, I grabbed her ankles and settled her legs on my lap. I pulled off her boots, and when I began massaging her foot she moaned in pleasure.
“That feels amazing. Now—this is helping,” she said before closing her eyes and leaning her head back against the couch. The smooth skin of her neck looked so inviting. One long tress of hair escaped the elastic band and curled around her ear before settling at the base of her throat. The contrast between the chestnut curly lock and her pale flawless skin looked like a work of art.
With her eyes still closed, she moaned again and said, “What did you do today?”
“Not much.” I noticed the small bag sitting by the door. “You didn’t bring a lot with you, I see.” Her eyes slid opened just as she turned her head. “Before you say anything, let me say what I’ve been practicing all day.”
“You’ve been practicing?” she asked, pulling her legs away and tucking them beneath her.
“Kind of.” The way her breathing accelerated meant she was anxious, but otherwise her face remained void of expression. I reached over and took the hand that nervously twisted her sweatshirt. “First, do you like Elliott?” She went to speak and I added, “Like like him?”
“I don’t know. He’s very sweet. I told you he hasn’t initiated anything romantic yet, but then he does things that are so considerate I think he must like me.”
“That’s not what I asked, Haven. Do you like him?”
“If I wasn’t in…” She looked down at her hands and shrugged. “I guess, yeah. Why?” Her question bounced back at me.
“Well, a part of me worries your feelings for me will hold you back from something that could be great with someone else… someone like Elliott.” My admission caused her shoulders to sag.
“I see.”
“But it’s a very small part of me. The bigger part of me, the asshole part that’s selfish thinks we should… date. If he’s who you want, though…”
“Date?” she interrupted.
“Yes.”
A small giggle escaped… and then another… and then a third… until she was doubled over in full-blown hysterics.
“Seriously?” I asked, not bothering to hide my annoyance. There I was, going out on a limb, and she was laughing at me.
“I’m sorry. It’s just so…” She wiped her eyes with her free hand and took one look at me before losing it again.
“It’s just so, what?”
“Boring,” she managed to squeak out.
Boring?
When she looked up at me, the way she smiled, the way her eyes lit up, and the way she looked so fucking gorgeous flipped a switch within me that couldn’t be undone.