Wicked Envy, page 22
On the flip side, I’m not a quitter. Perhaps she’ll tell me to go to hell, and then I’ll kiss her into changing her mind.
That brings a smile to my face, and I take a step toward her door. To my surprise, it opens and an ugly as hell cat that’s missing half an ear slithers through. It brushes by me and trots down the stairs. I watch it only a moment until the door shutting catches my attention.
I bolt toward it, rapping my knuckles against the gray painted wood. The door swings open, and there Avril stands. It’s been almost two weeks since Jamie died. Two weeks since I’ve been able to hold her close and inhale her fragrance.
Her eyes are wide, and she blinks in disbelief to see me there.
I give her an admonishing look. “You didn’t think I’d come to you if you weren’t going to come to me?”
“I… I… I…” she stutters.
“Invite me in, Av,” I say gruffly, emotion from just seeing her clogging my throat. “We have to talk.”
She blinks again, and then steps back from the door. I survey her apartment quickly when I enter. It’s tiny and sparsely decorated, and I’m guessing she rented it furnished as is.
When I turn back to her, I notice for the first time she’s wearing a bathrobe. I’ve never seen her wear one before. She’s always been naked, and if she wasn’t naked, she was either in the shower or dressed for the day. The bathrobe sort of a suggests she’s enjoying her time off from work, and that makes me glad for her. Avril’s worked so hard her entire adult life and rarely takes time off to just enjoy herself.
Avril turns from the door and crosses her arms over her stomach. Her gaze is wary, her posture guarded.
No sense in beating around the bush.
“Why didn’t you come meet me?” I ask. I just need her to tell me the truth so I can decide my next course of action. Because I haven’t kissed or touched her in two weeks… I’m thinking about perhaps just dragging her to bed. There I’ll give her many, many orgasms to wear her down so she’ll be forced to capitulate and take me back.
“You poisoned me,” she says bluntly.
My body jerks. “I what?”
“The stuff you had delivered to me,” she says with a grim smile. “I got food poisoning. I’m thinking the custard tarts.”
“You’re kidding?” I mutter in disbelief.
“Nope,” she says as she pushes past me to walk into her kitchen. I follow, which is nothing but turning forty-five degrees and taking three steps from her living room. She goes to the fridge and takes out a bottle of seltzer water. “Got sick within about four hours. Spent the rest of that day, night, and most of yesterday puking my guts up.”
“Jesus, Avril,” I say as I shake my head. “Why didn’t you text me? I could have come over and helped you.”
“Not my idea of a reunion,” she murmurs with a tiny smile.
“How are you feeling now?” I ask as she twists the top off the glass bottle in her hands.
She takes a sip and says, “Much better. I think I’ll even brave some food today, but it will not ever be croissants or custards again.”
Avril just stares at me, and I stare at her. The silence becomes slightly awkward, and I don’t know what I’m waiting for. It’s not like I expect Avril to do the talking as she’s not the one who needs to apologize for anything.
“Can we sit in the living room?” I ask hesitantly. Which fuck… I’m never hesitant in anything I want or have ever asked for, but right now, I’ve never had higher stakes. My nerves are on overdrive.
“Sure,” she says casually.
She goes to a chair by the window, sits on it, and pulls her feet up under her. Leaning on the armrest, she holds the bottle of water lightly in her hand.
I take the small couch that sits perpendicular. It creaks and groans when I sit on it and smells faintly like mothballs and incense. Before I can even settle down, I know immediately that I can’t sit for this. I’m vibrating with so much nervous energy and need for her to forgive me, I pop right back up to my feet.
Avril chuckles, and I raise an eyebrow at her.
She nods toward the couch. “You could never sit still when you were ready to give a big presentation. You’re a pacer.”
My heart fucking squeezes in response, the nostalgia of how well this woman knows me hitting me all at once. Suddenly, the stakes seem so dire that I’m pretty sure my life will be over if I can’t have her.
“I went to see my dad,” I tell her as a starting point, which really isn’t the start of my journey to self-realization.
Her return smile is sadly sweet looking. Her eyes are soft with understanding. “How did it go?”
“It went okay,” I tell her as I walk around the oval coffee table to the window by her armchair. I look down at the courtyard and see that ugly ass cat sitting beside a lamppost. I turn my gaze down to Avril. “Nothing monumental, though. He filled me in on details I didn’t know. Like where he was and why he never came back for me.”
“Did it help to understand?” she asks.
I shake my head with a smile. “Not to understand anything about me. But it did help me to understand him.”
“Is that why you came to Paris to see me?” she asks as she lowers her eyes to where her thumb is wiping condensation from the bottle.
Without thought, I reach out to put my fingers under her chin. I force her to look up at me, and the stark amount of fear mixed with a tiny dash of yearning hope I see in there makes my legs go weak.
I give a shake of my head. “My dad had nothing to do with me coming here. I already had my reservation booked and decided to see him while I had some time before my flight.”
“Oh,” she says softly. “Then what caused your epiphany?”
“You leaving me caused it,” I tell her. I squat down beside her chair, resting my hands on the armrest. “I didn’t need any great epiphany, and I didn’t need to psychoanalyze myself. I already knew I was cowardly and weak when it came to commitments, and I already knew it was because of my dad abandoning me.”
“You’re not cowardly—”
My fingers go to her lips to press them closed. “I was. You needed me to help you deal with grief, and I got caught up in all the ways you might not love me. I let every single insecurity get the better of me, and that’s never happened to me in my life. I’ve brought a miraculous medical concept to life, raised millions of dollars in venture capital, and staked my entire life and reputation on my company, and not once was I ever insecure or doubtful about it. And then here comes this woman, who I’ve known forever, and the minute she tells me she loves me, I figure she’s going to abandon me. I didn’t even give you the benefit of the doubt, Avril. That was my huge failure.”
My fingers drop away from her mouth. She stares at me a moment before she murmurs, “I appreciate what you’re saying, but why are you here?”
“I’m here,” I say as I lean in toward her, putting my face as close to hers as I can without actually ruining my view of her beauty. “Because I love you. And I think I always have, but I was just too afraid to accept that into my life. I fucked up so bad by letting you go, and I am here in Paris, sitting before you right now, begging you to please give me another chance.”
The tiny muscles around Avril’s mouth tremble with emotion, and her eyes get shiny. “You love me?”
“Always have,” I tell her. “In a different way as friends, but that way is still there. I admire and respect you. I trust you so much but was too afraid to admit it. And now I love you in a completely new way that involves my heart and soul. Avril… I want a life with you. I want a committed relationship. I want to be the guy who is there when you stumble so I can pick you up, dust you off, and help you walk again. I want to be the man you can lean on when you grieve over ex-boyfriends. I’m ready to accept all of those challenges, and any others you may face in your life. I’m so fucking ready, and if you don’t come back to Vegas with me, I’ll stay here in Paris with you. I’ll sell the fucking company or give it to Andrew, and I’ll be your house boy while you’re the career woman. But I’m ready, and I’m here, and I really just need you to say you’ll give me another chance. We can’t go backward, Av. We can’t just go back to being friends, and I don’t want to fucking lose the friendship either, so the only way is forward.”
A single tear slips from one of her brilliant blue eyes, and I watch it travel down the softness of her cheek. Avril takes in a quivering breath. When she breathes out, she says, “That’s quite a speech, Mr. Hawthorne.”
“I’m pretty sure groveling speeches are required in situations like this,” I tell her.
Avril then lets out the most beautiful laugh I’ve ever heard, and it gives me hope because she finds me amusing right now.
“So, you really love me?” she asks with faux skepticism.
“It’s not just about loving you, baby. It’s about accepting the concept of love and opening my heart fully to it. I’m there, and I’m ready for it. I’m ready to show it to you if you’ll let me.”
I’m not prepared for Avril’s arms to fly around my neck, nor the force of her pulling me out of my squat and over the top of the armrest. It’s an awkward position, but I let her bury her face in my neck and hug the shit out of me while I try to work my arms around her in return.
“Fuck it,” I mutter as I stand and lift her from the chair.
Avril’s legs wrap around me, and she clings hard to me. I take two steps, turn, and sink down onto the noisy couch. I position her across my lap, and let her continue to hug me while I hold her close.
Finally, she pulls her head back and looks at me with eyes still awash with tears of happiness. I’ll never mind her crying as long as there’s joy shining back at me.
She nods her head, placing her palms on my cheeks. “Of course, I’ll give you another shot. You’re my love. I’m going to give you shot after shot, Dane. If you falter, I’m going to give you another shot, too.”
“I’m not sure why you’re doing this after how badly I hurt you.” Apparently, I’m still plagued by some insecurities.
“For seventeen years, I’ve been by your side. Ups and downs and chasing your dad away with a bat. Sex clubs and threesomes and eating ice cream in bed. You’re it for me, Dane. It’s you or no one, so even if things get hard again, I’m not letting go.”
“I’m not either,” I promise. “I swear it’s us till the end.”
The smile she gives me is so sweet and full of love I can barely look at it. My head tilts, and I’m the one burying my face in her neck now. I am not about to show her my naked emotion.
Not just yet.
Instead, I murmur against her skin. “Tell me, Avril. Tell me what I really want to hear.”
Her hands come to the back of my head to hold me to her as she says, “I love you, Dane.”
“God, I love you too,” I mutter, and then press my lips to her neck. I kiss her there gently, then pull my face away so I can put my mouth on hers.
She opens up to me, and my tongue finds its homecoming alongside hers. Avril’s moan slides right down my throat, and my hand slips inside her bathrobe to cup her breast.
“I fucking missed this body,” I say as I pull back to stare at her. “Please tell me your bed doesn’t squeak like this couch.”
She laughs and nods. “’Fraid so.”
“Fuck it.” I stand from the couch and head toward the tiny hall where I’m assuming I’ll find her bed. “The neighbors can share in the happiness of our reunion.”
And I get that beautiful sound again.
Avril laughing all the way back to the bedroom.
EPILOGUE
Andrew
Three months later…
It’s the wedding all of Las Vegas and the entire biotech industry’s been talking about. Mega-millionaire entrepreneur Dane Hawthorne marrying his long-time best friend and chief operations officer Avril Carrigan.
The church is almost filled to capacity. Avril’s family takes up two rows on her side, and Dane just has his father sitting in the first row on his side. Lyndon Hawthorne is sitting up straight in what looks to be a new suit, although he tugs at the tie uncomfortably. He and Dane are still getting to know each other, but I can tell this is really what Dane needed to fully heal.
The doors to the back vestibule open, and Avril stands there looking radiant and happier than I’ve ever seen her in her life. She has on a pure white strapless dress that has no adornments on it. Her veil doesn’t cover her face and only comes down to her lower back. No clue what type of flowers she holds in her hand, but they’re really pretty.
The music starts, and everyone stands as Avril is led down the aisle by her father. His chest is puffed out with pride. Avril looks left and right a few times at the wedding guests, but then her face turns and she locks eyes with me. With every slow step that she and her father make, my heart beats faster. The closer she gets to me, the more chills race up and down my spine.
It takes them less than fifteen seconds to reach where I’m standing, halfway down the aisle, but it seems like an eternity. We’d rehearsed this once already with no hiccups, but still my palms sweat as her father turns her over to me. He claps me on the shoulder, and I take his place. Avril slides her hand into the crook of my elbow, giving it a slight squeeze.
“Ready?” I ask.
“Ready,” she says, and we step off on the same foot as we walk toward Dane.
I glance to the left at Avril, and she’s got her eyes locked on her soon-to-be husband who is waiting at the altar for us. They had quite the fight over whether I was going to be the maid of honor or the best man, and I assured Avril I was not wearing some poufy pink dress.
They compromised, which is what you should do with the love of your life who is soon to be your partner for life, and decided I would walk her halfway up the aisle to turn her over to Dane. I don’t think her mom was all that crazy with the idea, ruining the tradition of a father giving his daughter away, but Avril was adamant about me being the one to give her to Dane.
The three of us are the only ones aware of the irony here.
I glance back to Dane, and like Avril, his gaze is focused and intense. His eyes run up and down, taking in her dress before landing back on her face. His expression is hungry, but not in a carnal way. No, he’s starved for Avril to be hitched to him permanently, which is the reason this wedding is taking place so quickly.
When we reach Dane, I’m prepared to take Avril’s hand and place it in his, but I’m stunned when he loops his arm around my neck and pulls me into a hard hug. I almost stumble into him, and then Avril’s being mashed up against us as his other arm pulls her in for a hug.
The three of us huddle together, a unit of solid friendship.
Then I pull away.
I take each of them by the wrist, and then bring their hands together where they clasp tight.
Then I step off to the side, on the groom’s side of course—because again, not going to be a maid of honor—and I watch my two best friends get married.
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About the Author
Since the release of her debut contemporary romance novel, Off Sides, in January 2013, Sawyer Bennett has released multiple books, many of which have appeared on the New York Times, USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestseller lists.
A reformed trial lawyer from North Carolina, Sawyer uses real life experience to create relatable, sexy stories that appeal to a wide array of readers. From new adult to erotic contemporary romance, Sawyer writes something for just about everyone.
Sawyer likes her Bloody Marys strong, her martinis dirty, and her heroes a combination of the two. When not bringing fictional romance to life, Sawyer is a chauffeur, stylist, chef, maid, and personal assistant to a very active daughter, as well as full-time servant to her adorably naughty dogs. She believes in the good of others, and that a bad day can be cured with a great work-out, cake, or even better, both.
Sawyer also writes general and women’s fiction under the pen name S. Bennett and sweet romance under the name Juliette Poe.
Sawyer Bennett, Wicked Envy
