Page 7 of His to Cherish
I’m not sure I’ll be able to.
We’re quiet while Oliver pays the check and leads me out of the restaurant. We’re quiet while he drives me back to my car at Hoops. There’s a heavy tension between us as we sit in silence and I wonder if there’s any way back for our friendship.
“I’ll follow you back to your place,” he says softly when he pulls up next to my car in the lot outside the sports bar. He offers a wan smile. “We can watch the game highlights, okay? Then maybe a movie or?—”
Hot anger swells inside me. He wants to have a movie night? After all that? How many times over the years have we enjoyed exactly the kind of night he’s describing? How many hours have we spent sitting on my couch, watching sports or Netflix, snacking, teasing each other. That was enough for me for a long time. But I don’t think it is anymore.
“No thanks,” I say curtly, reaching for the door handle. He swears, hurrying to unbuckle his seatbelt, no doubt so he can rush around the car and open my door the way he always does. But now that doesn’t make me feel safe and cherished. It makes me feel patronized. It makes me feel like the immature little sister I’ve always feared he saw me as.
“Don’t bother,” I snap. “I can get to my car just fine.”
“Lilly. Wait.” His voice is low and authoritative, and I have to fight to ignore the instinct that tells me to obey.
“I’m tired and I’mmortified.” I refuse to look at him. I don’t want him to see the heartbreak that I’m sure is written on my face. “I’d like to be alone.”
“God damn it,” he growls, reaching for me across the gear shaft. I dodge out of his grasp and scurry out of the car, ignoring him when he calls after me. I already have my keys in my hands and I’m in my car before he can climb out of his. He glares at me through the windshield, clearly not happy about any of this.
Join the club,I think bitterly. I give him a brief wave and start my car, wanting nothing more than to get the hell out of here.
It doesn’t surprise me when he pulls out of the parking lot after me. And it doesn’t surprise me when he remains right behind my car the entire way home. Of course he won’t let me drive off on my own. That would go against every one of his protective instincts. Normally, I love that about him. Tonight, it just makes me want to cry.
I know he won’t drive away until he sees I’m inside so I hurry up the front steps then race to get the door open. I’m inside in record time and I slam the door behind me—hopefully he’ll get the hint and not try to follow me.
I peek out the window next to the door. His car is still waiting on the curb. It’s too dark to see inside his Jag and I wonder what he’s thinking right now. A moment later, his engine revs and he drives away.
That’s the end of that,I tell myself, leaning my forehead against the door in defeat.At least you know you tried.I go to slip off the painful heels—God, what had I been thinking, wearing those things? I am not a stilettos kind of girl.
So stupid to think something like that might actually get Oliver to pick me. Just because they’re the kind of shoes I’ve seen his dates wear before?—
My breath suddenly seizes in my lungs as I remember his refusal to tell me why he wore a suit to a casual place like Hoops. He was planning to meet someone after dinner. That has to be it, right? Why else would he have changed the subject so quickly?
I barely stop to think about what I’m doing as I step back into the heels and open my front door. My quiet, suburban block is dark and empty. But down at the end of the street, I see red brake lights at the corner. Oliver’s car, waiting to turn.
I rush back to my own car and get in.This is probably insane,I think to myself as I put the key into the ignition. Following him is the last thing I should be doing. There’s no way this ends well for me. What if I see him with another woman? I’m probably going to be heartbroken all over again.
But I can’t seem to stop myself from following him anyway. I know there’s no way I’m going to be able to rest until I finally find out where Oliver goes all those nights after he leaves me.
OLIVER
Idrove to Club Wyld on autopilot. Now that I’m actually standing in the lounge, though, I’m certain coming here was a mistake.
This place is usually my refuge. The place I go to calm the raging desires in my head. Where I find a distraction from the constant thoughts of the woman I can’t have. It had been a no brainer to come here after that hellish dinner. Never in my life have I needed a distraction more.
But now that I’m here, I know there’s no way I’m going to find it. There’s not a distraction in the entire world exciting enough to make me forget what happened with Lilly.
I close my eyes, memories of our dinner inundating my mind. If I live to be a hundred, I know I’ll never forget the way Lilly looked when she told me she wanted me.
Lillywantsme. This crazy obsession I’ve been fighting hasn’t been one-sided. I was so close to giving in. How am I supposed to keep fighting the thing I’ve wanted so badly now that I know she wants it too?
Because she doesn’t want it the same way as you,I remind myself. My eyes snap open and I glare around the room, more than a little disgusted with myself for being here. Isn’t this proofthat what I told her is true? I’m not good for her and I never will be.
There’s no doubt in my mind that when Lilly said she wanted me, this wasn’t what she had in mind. My girl is sweet and pure-hearted. She probably daydreams about a partner who will make gentle, sweet love to her. I grit my teeth at the thought of anyone making love to my girl—but I know it’s what she deserves. Because Lilly isit. She’s the most special, amazing person I know. She deserves the fairytale prince.
That man is not me.
When she said she could make me happy though, I’d considered it. God, I’d let myself imagine it. What if I gave in to the thing we both wanted? What if I took her back to my condo and finally found out what it felt like to taste her lips? To undress her? To know what she looks like naked and writhing under me?
I wanted that so badly I felt like I was going to come out of my skin. When she made that asinine comment about me not being attracted to her, I just had to show her how wrong she was. Having her warm, little hand on my hard dick, even through two layers of fabric, might have been the best thing I’ve ever felt in my life.
