Текст книги "Lies Unspoken "

Автор книги: Lisa DeJong

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Текущая страница: 15 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

THIS HAS TO BE THE WORST silence I’ve ever experienced. Like a coward, I don’t want to wait to see his reaction. I carefully scoot to the edge of the bed until my feet hit the cold, hard floor. The room is dark, and my clothes are scattered everywhere. I pick up my bra and panties near the foot of the bed and put them on as fast as I can with trembling fingers.

My dress is in a heap on the floor where Pierce slid it off me. It was so hard to squeeze into in the first place; there won’t be anything quick about putting it back on.

“Here,” Pierce says, tossing me his dress shirt. I eye it curiously, not sure what he expects. “You’re just across the hall. I’m sure you can make it without anyone seeing you.”

I roll the soft cotton between my fingers, hating him for being so casual and mature about this.

I quietly watch him pull his pants back on, not bothering with his belt. I want him to yell, tell me I’m ridiculous for letting myself fall for Blake. He’s thinking it. He has to be thinking it.

Nervously, I slip my arms in and then fumble with the buttons. The first tear escapes, rolling down my cheek. I don’t want to be this woman I’ve become, and I can’t rely on a man to find me.

“Will you let me help you?” I hadn’t even noticed Pierce standing in front of me. I let my hands fall away from the buttons. God, why won’t he just yell at me and get it over with. I need it to erase some of my guilt.

He takes my non-answer as acceptance, buttoning the shirt to cover my exposed body. His fingers brush my skin a couple times, a painful reminder of everything that just happened. I should want a man like Pierce Stanley, and I’m angry with myself because I don’t. Not in the way he wants me.

When the shirt is perfectly in place, he cups my face in his hands, forcing my eyes to his. “I need you to know that you’re making a mistake. When you finally come to realize that, I hope it’s not too late.”

I shut my eyes tightly. It’s my only escape. “Some choices we don’t get to make.”

“Then how am I supposed to win?” he asks, his warm breath hitting my cheek.

Warm tears fall down each cheek. “I don’t know if you can.”

I open my eyes to find him looking down at me. In another time, Pierce could have made me happy. There’s no doubting that.

He rubs his thumb across my lower lip. My chest tightens. I hate what I’m doing to him . . . I hate feeling like I lead him on. “Promise me something, Lila.”

“Anything.”

“Don’t become someone you aren’t just to be with him.”

I nod against his touch, but I know it’s too late. Blake’s already turned me into someone I don’t like. Pierce deserves better than that. “Goodnight, Pierce.”

“Goodnight.” He kisses my forehead before letting me go.

I head straight for the door, picking up my purse along the way. I don’t want to look back, but I do anyway. He hasn’t moved from where I left him, standing with his hands tucked in his pockets. “Thank you for tonight.” I attempt to smile, but I’m sure I look ridiculous with tears falling at the same time.

Without another word, I open the door, and make my way across the hall. When I’m finally shut inside my room, I crumble to the floor. For what could have been minutes, or maybe hours, I fall back to the heartbroken woman I was months ago. This time, I have no one to blame but myself.

Blake warned me. I didn’t listen.

Pierce offered to catch me, but I’d already fallen.

The worst thing to wake up with is guilt. My swollen, tired eyes remind me of everything that happened last night. Dinner. The kiss. Dessert. Everything after. It all plays over and over again until I don’t even recognize myself.

Rolling to look at my clock, I realize I only have forty-five minutes until Pierce and I have to meet with Wade.

I tie my hair up and turn on the shower as hot as I’m able to handle, letting the steam fill the room as I unbutton Pierce’s shirt. I didn’t have the strength to take it off last night after my meltdown. Besides, it still carries that scent that always seems to comfort me, which only compounds my guilt. In a way, I used him. I took from him when I had nothing to offer in return.

Closing my eyes, I let the stream of water beat down on my face. I remember the expression on Pierce’s face when I told him to stop. If I let myself, I can still feel his skin on mine, and it disgusts me, because when he was with me, I was with Blake.

Not able to take anymore, I quickly dress, not too concerned about how I look. When you feel like a rainstorm just pounded your heart, it’s hard to look like anything less than that happened on the outside.

I untie my hair, pinning it into a more professional bun and do my best to cover the circles under my eyes.

I grab my luggage and coat, ready to make the journey to the lobby. When I pull the door open, Pierce is standing against the wall. My heart skips a beat or two. He’s well dressed, as always, in a gray suit with a lavender button-up underneath. I shouldn’t stare, but I can’t look away. If we could go back a month—before Blake—Pierce would be a force I couldn’t resist. I loathe myself for having to distance myself from him because I’m glued to the one person I should have stayed far away from.

“Do you need help with your things?” he asks, pushing off the wall toward me.

“I’m okay, but thank you.”

He rubs the back of his neck, avoiding my stare. “How did you sleep?”

“Okay.” I tuck a strand of invisible hair behind my ear, needing the distraction.

He nods toward the elevator. “We should get going. The quicker we get there, the quicker we can leave.”

He starts walking. I follow.

He takes one corner of the elevator. I take the other.

And when I climb in the car, I stick as close to my door as I can, knowing the ride won’t be anything like last night.

The silence is lonely, but loneliness is welcome.

I’ve never thought there could be a positive side effect of amnesia, but this one time, I wish I could choose it. There are so many things I’d just rather forget.

I wish Pierce and I could both forget, to go back to what we were before.

I dared to cross that line. Now, there’s no way to get back over.

Pierce finally breaks the silence as the car parks in front of Wade’s office building. “The jet is ready to leave as soon as we’re done here.”

I nod, wondering if he had something else planned originally . . . before the mess I made last night.

He holds the door open for me, but he doesn’t place his hand on my back like usual. Anger may not be Pierce’s thing, but the temperature between us is cold. He walks next to me without a word. It’s almost worse this way, wondering what he’s feeling instead of having him say it.

“Pierce Stanley for Wade Adams,” he announces to the receptionist before it even dawns on me that we stopped in front of her desk.

“You can go on up to the twenty-fourth floor. His assistant will show you to the conference room.”

My phone vibrates as the elevator closes, but I don’t move to retrieve it from my purse. It vibrates again a few seconds later.

“You going to check that?” Pierce asks, staring up at the elevator ceiling.

I pull it out, sliding my thumb over the screen. I have a slew of missed texts, but the one that catches my eye first is from Blake.

Blake: I might not be here when you get back. Going out of town for a few days.

I think about ignoring him but reconsider.

Lila: When will you be back?

When there’s not an instant reply, I start typing another message. It shouldn’t matter to me. We’re unfixable. Too much has been done and said that can’t be forgotten.

The elevator dings, interrupting my thoughts.

“Ready?” Pierce asks, narrowing his eyes on my phone.

I shove it back in my purse. “Sorry.”

This will be the second time in two days I’ve been in this suite, and it holds bad memories of the testosterone battle I witnessed yesterday between Pierce and Wade. I’m not expecting fair play today either.

Wade’s Barbie-like assistant appears to greet us. “Mr. Stanley. Ms. Fields, please follow me this way.”

We end up in the same conference room as yesterday, the one with the line of windows overlooking Times Square. Instead of taking a seat at the expansive marble table, I walk toward the picturesque view, placing a finger on the cool glass. I need a break from Pierce, from seeing him and hearing the smooth sound of his voice. Even more than that, I need a reprieve from myself, because, at the end of the day, it’s not Blake or Pierce who got me here . . . it’s me.

Professionals flood the sidewalks below. Posters and billboards line the street. It gives me something to focus on, a place for my thoughts to wander. It works until I see a man—who has the same hair color as Blake—walking. He creeps into my thoughts so easily. A part of me wishes he only existed there . . . that I could mold him into what I need him to be.

I’d keep his edge. The sides of him that people warned me about are the ones that make me feel the most alive. All I’m asking is for him to let me in, to give me a chance to see if everything I feel inside is valid, or if it’s a fucked up mirage I’ve caught myself in.

“Good morning.” I startle, glancing over my shoulder to see Wade entering the room. I already want to slap the smug look off his face.

“Sorry. Just admiring the city,” I say. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch him watching me as I walk to my seat. The guy gives me the creeps, but I put up with him for Pierce. That’s what I get paid to do after all.

Pierce hasn’t said a word since we walked in here. He sits at the end of the table like a king witnessing our exchange. He’s probably waiting for Wade to eat me up and spit me out after what I did to him. “Did you make a decision?” Pierce asks.

Wade clears his throat, leaning back in his leather chair. “I did.”

“And?”

“The project is yours with forty percent ownership under two conditions.”

Pierce lifts a brow but says nothing. I feel like a spectator at a powerful ping pong match.

Wade continues, “She stays on the project.” He points his pen in my direction. “This hotel is going to be the future of New York City hotels, and it needs her fresh eye.”

Both sets of eyes are on me, but it’s not my decision to make. Pierce pays me, and I don’t think I’m his favorite person at the moment. Then there’s the whole apprenticeship—nothing more permanent has been promised.

After a long pause, Pierce finally says, “She’s on the project. What else?”

Wade smiles. It has an evil undertone. “I want Blake Stone to work on all of the murals and art pieces. His style will blend in perfectly with what Lila presented yesterday.”

My breath catches, and my gaze whips to Pierce. The muscles in his jaw pulse, his teeth bared. “No fucking deal,” he barks across the table.

“Are you sure about that?” Wade asks, smugness washing over his face again, “There’s a lot of money in it for you.”

“I don’t need your fucking money! We’re done here.” Pierce stands from the table, motioning me to join him. I comply, too afraid of his current emotional state not to; I’ve never seen him like this.

“Hey, Lila!” Wade shouts behind us. On instinct, I glance back over my shoulder. “If you’re fucking him, be careful. He has a penchant for using things once and then letting them go, especially things that aren’t his to begin with.”

Pierce releases me, striding across the room to where Wade sits, relaxed in his leather chair. A gap between two speeding trains is closing before my eyes, but I can’t look away. Pierce grips Wade’s shirt, pulling him up a couple inches. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“You know exactly who I am, Stanley. You took something from me, and I don’t think you’ve paid me back yet. Now, I’m just going to take it.”

Pierce swings his arm back but hesitates. “You’re not worth it.” Just as quickly as he went to Wade, he walks away. “Let’s go,” he says as he passes me.

He moves quickly toward the elevator as I struggle to keep up in my heels. We step inside, him on one side, me on the other. Anger radiates off every tense inch of his body.

“What was that all about?” I ask, my voice low.

“This isn’t the time, Lila.”

I open my mouth but quickly shut it again. He’s right.

When the elevator reaches the first floor, Pierce surprises me, grabbing my hand in his. Behind almost sleeping with Pierce and frozen hot chocolate, elevator rides are going to be the most memorable part of New York City. It’s where everything starts, or ends, or where my thoughts get me all worked up.

Before I know it, we’re in the car, all the space in the world between us. It’s strange going from lovers one night to distant acquaintances the next.

“So, you want to know what that was all about?” he asks, rubbing his hand along his jaw.

I nod. Obviously I do. Who wouldn’t? “If you want to talk about it,” I answer.

He laughs sadistically. “I feel like I owe you some explanation, so here it is . . . a couple years ago, I slept with his girlfriend once after a night of having too much to drink.” He continues, “I didn’t know who she was at the time and had no intention of ever seeing her again. He can’t seem to let it go.”

“Were you friends before?”

He shakes his head. “No, business partners in some aspects.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t work with him anymore.”

“I wouldn’t, but he’s a smart asshole. We can either work together or be enemies. I guess the latter is where we’re heading.”

I fidget with the buttons on my jacket, not sure what to say. I pull my phone out and check for messages. There’s one from Blake.

Blake: I don’t know.

“Who’s that?”

I tear my eyes from the screen, looking into Pierce’s. “No one.”

“I hate being lied to, Lila.”

“I hate when people keep things from me,” I bite back. Frustration boils to the surface. There can’t be two sets of rules between us.

“And what exactly am I keeping from you?”

“Tell me what happened between you and Blake. Why do you hate each other so much?”

He stares at me long and hard, reading me as if I have some complex definition. “Have you asked him about Alyssa?”

Shaking my head, I glance out the window and watch New York City go by. I haven’t asked him because I’m scared. If it weren’t a big deal, Pierce would just tell me.

“Ask him. Tell me what he says, and I’ll fill in the blanks.”

“I don’t get why you can’t just tell me,” I respond. If we weren’t stuck in this car right now, I’d probably scream.

He shrugs. “There’s no way I can explain it and come out sounding like a nice guy, but if you want a glimpse into the past, let’s just say, when two men love a woman and both lose her, it turns into one fucked up mess.”

I contemplate his words—roll them around. In the end, I’m just left wondering if I should just walk away from both men. If the baggage they carry is more than I can take on my back. And even more than that, I wonder if I can ever compete with Alyssa . . . whoever she is.

BY THE TIME THE CAR PULLS up in front of my apartment building, the sky is completely black. I’m happy to be home—ready to climb into my warm bed and sleep the night away, but there’s still a Pierce hurdle I have to jump: goodbyes.

“Let me walk you to your door,” he says.

I don’t argue. I don’t have the energy. Instead, I stand quietly on the sidewalk and watch as Pierce takes my bag from the driver. The air is frigid, so much so it seeps through my jacket, peppering my skin with goose bumps.

“What did you think of New York?” Pierce asks as we make our way up the sidewalk.

“The hot chocolate was good.”

He opens the door, allowing me to step inside first. “Hmm, just the hot chocolate? You’re low maintenance, Ms. Fields.”

We make our way up the flights of stairs, and all I can think about is how I’m going to handle things when we get to my door. I need to smooth things over with Pierce. I’ve enjoyed the little bit of time I’ve spent at Stanley Development, and I want to be able to go into work without this giant cloud hanging over my head. Even if I know it won’t dissipate completely.

Then there’s Blake. I don’t know if he’s still going to be here when I open the door. Part of me hopes yes, the other no. It makes me nervous as hell. To top it off, I need to keep the two of them apart. When they’re together, it’s like watching a lit match hit gasoline, and I’m the one who seems to get burned.

“Pierce.”

“Yeah?”

“I know we’ve already talked about this, but I want to make sure that what happened last night isn’t going to affect our work relationship.” I stop walking, closing my eyes to clear my head. “I don’t want it to ruin what could be a really great friendship between us.”

I don’t want to look up, but I don’t have a choice when he uses his finger under my chin to lift my eyes to his. “Nothing has changed for you at Stanley.”

I nod, breathing out.

He continues, “And as far as friendship goes . . . if that’s what you want, that’s what I’ll give you, but I’ll always want more.”

“I can’t give you that. Not now,” I say, shaking my head.

His thumb brushes my lips. “I know, but I’m not going to be able to watch you with him either. You deserve better.”

“And so do you,” I whisper. Pierce has so much to offer. If he found the right woman, he could show her the world and give it to her too.

He kisses me gently on the forehead before letting me go. “Love isn’t defined by what you deserve. It’s about finding that one person you know you can’t live without and never letting them go.”

He’s right, in a way. I’ve known lots of great guys who I classified as a woman’s dream—successful, kind, good-looking—but it didn’t equate to me falling at their feet.

“Get some sleep, Pierce,” I say, picking up my suitcase. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Take tomorrow off. You deserve it.” He winks, but the playfulness doesn’t show in his eyes. He looks tired and mentally worn. Not the powerful man I’m used to.

“You don’t have to do that. Besides, I don’t do well when I have too much time on my hands.”

“It’s up to you, but the offer stands.” He runs his long fingers through his hair. “I’m going to wait right here until you’re inside. Have a nice night, Lila.”

I step back, waving one last time before sticking my key in the lock. I feel him watching me but don’t look back. My heart aches enough from staring into his forlorn eyes just seconds ago. He tempted me last night, and I led him on—made him believe there was a chance at something that just can’t be. Not now.

After closing the door behind me, I notice the apartment is dark. Disappointed, I carry my luggage into my bedroom and rummage through my drawers for something more comfortable to wear. It’s going to be another night where I sit alone and wonder what I actually escaped by moving to Chicago. Two cities. The same problems.

I curl up in the center of my bed, wrapping the thick comforter around me. Blake’s absence shouldn’t bother me, but it does. I need closure. I need to know if I ever meant anything to him, or if he was just a waste of a broken heart.

I grab my cell phone from the nightstand and dial Mallory’s number, tapping my finger on my knee as I wait for her to answer. She’s my voice of reason—the sanity to my insanity. And maybe, she’ll have some answers.

“Hello,” she answers, sounding a little out of breath. I wonder what the weather is like there, if she’s out for a run.

“Hey, we haven’t talked in a while so I thought I’d give you a call to see how things are going.”

“That’s funny because I was thinking about calling you after the gym. It’s been crazy busy. I swear the tests here are ten times harder than they were at UCLA. I’m either in class or studying. How are you?”

“Not too bad. I quit Charlie’s the other day. Doing that and working at Stanley was getting to be a little too much. I actually just got back from New York an hour ago.”

There’s nothing but silence on the other end . . . rare Mallory silence.

“Are you there?” I ask after seconds have passed.

“Sorry, did you say you’re working at Stanley? As in Stanley Development?” She sounds a little panicked. I start to panic.

“Yes, they hired me for an apprenticeship.”

Another long pause. “You’re working with Pierce Stanley?”

“He hired me,” I say simply.

“Shit.”

Mallory never swears. Ever. “What?”

“Does Blake know?”

“Yes. What’s the matter, Mallory?” There’s so much I want to know about Pierce and Blake. Most importantly, why they hate each other so much.

“There’s a history between them.”

“I’ve already gathered that much, but why?”

She sighs. “There was so much heartbreak when it all happened . . . so much. You need to leave it alone.”

Begging.

Pleading.

I have no idea what to do next.

Then I remember what Pierce said. “Does it have something to do with Alyssa?”

“Who told you?” she asks, practically choking on her words.

“Pierce.”

She whimpers. “Oh God. Have you mentioned her to Blake? What did he say?”

The way she reacts makes me want to know even more. It’s worse than waiting to see what’s wrapped for me under the Christmas tree. “I haven’t mentioned it to him. Should I?”

“No!” she yells. “You know how much you hate it when I bring up Derek? How much you hated when people asked you about him after you broke up? This is the same type of situation. Sometimes the past just needs to be left alone.”

I close my eyes, allowing her reaction to soak in. Whatever happened was big. Big enough to leave deep, emotional wounds and cause an even deeper hatred between two men who I’ve become caught between. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” I finally say.

“It’s not your fault,” she concedes, letting out a heavy breath. “I just wasn’t expecting this. What are the chances you move to Chicago and run into the president of Blake’s hate club within a few weeks.”

“It’s just the kind of luck I have lately.”

“Can you do me a favor?” she asks.

“Anything.”

“Keep them away from each other, and whatever you do, do not mention Alyssa . . . not to Blake,” she pleads. Curiosity killed the cat. It’s going to kill Lila Fields too.

“I’ll do the best I can. I’ve learned that men aren’t as controllable as we’d like them to be.”

That brings a short laugh from her. “Truer words have never been spoken. What are you doing for Christmas?”

“I haven’t decided yet. I want to go home, but I don’t have the money to buy a plane ticket.”

“I guess we’re in the same boat. Worst-case scenario, we can have a Skype date.”

“Sounds like a plan, and there’s always A Christmas Story,” I say.

That brings back memories of our first year at UCLA. We thought a California Christmas would beat out the snow and cold, but when the holiday finally rolled around, we were both depressed and homesick. We stayed in our pajamas and cozied on the couch, watching A Christmas Story over and over again. It was the best and worst Christmas I’ve ever had.

“It’s a date.”

“Hey, Mallory, can I ask you one more thing?”

“Shoot.”

“Where does Blake go when he disappears? What does he do?”

“He paints. It’s his therapy. Is he gone now?” she asks.

“Yeah. He said he was leaving for a few days.” I run my fingers across the soft cotton comforter, remembering the time I spent in the studio.

“He’ll be back. Look, I should get going. I’m covered in a layer of sweat.”

I laugh. “You work out while I lay in bed and read a book. Some things never change. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Take care.”

Dread. It’s the only word that comes to mind as I walk into Stanley Development. It kept me up last night, rehearsing what I would say if Pierce wandered by my desk or called me to his office.

I’m not an actress, and this isn’t the school play.

I hide away in my little cubicle, doing my best to keep my mind occupied. He said nothing had changed for me at Stanley, but I’ve changed. How I feel about him . . . how I think whenever he’s around.

“Hey,” Reece says, coming around the corner. “Are you going to lunch?”

I finish shading the edge of my mood board and look up. “I’m not hungry.”

“You’re not getting by with that excuse today. Come on.” She picks up my purse and holds it out for me.

“Can we go to the little café down the street? I need some fresh air.”

“Are you going to fill me in on New York?” she asks.

I cringe; I should’ve guessed this was coming. “As much as we can cover in one hour.”

“Now I’m excited,” she says, watching me pull on my coat. I lift my purse from her fingers and follow her to the elevator. As we step on, I glance around for Pierce. He’s not there. And again, when we walk through the lobby, I search for him. I don’t know what I’d say if he walked up. And within seconds, Reece would know something is up. She’s too perceptive.

The café is small and dimly lit. It’s one of the few places around here that isn’t often used for business lunches between important executives.

We each order soup and find a table in the back, away from the busy counter. “You’re quiet,” Reece says, staring me down from across the table.

“I’m tired. Two days of traveling and meetings wore me out more than I thought it would.”

“So, what was it like?” Not knowing is killing her. I’m surprised she didn’t convince me to join her for coffee this morning.

“What part?” I ask, delaying the inevitable.

“Let’s start with New York.”

A smile actually plays on my lips for the first time today. “If you haven’t tried it, you need to make time for the frozen hot chocolate. Hands down, one of the best things I’ve ever put in my mouth.”

“And the meetings?”

I sit back, trying to get comfortable in the wooden chair. “Interesting. The guy we met with is a complete asshole. It ended up being a pissing match between him and Pierce.”

“Did he end up picking Stanley for the project?”

I think back to how the meeting ended yesterday. “Umm . . . probably not.”

“That sucks. It would’ve been a nice excuse for all of us to visit New York.” She takes a bite of her soup, then continues, “And Pierce?”

“What about him?” I ask.

“What was it like being alone with him for two days?”

It depends on which part, I think to myself. “He’s charming and sweet . . . easy to talk to.”

She sets her spoon down, studying me. “And?”

“Can we talk about something else?”

“Nope,” she says, shaking her head for extra emphasis.

Pierce and I crossed over so many boundaries, but I’m not going to admit to all of them. But I need to talk to someone. “He kissed me.”

“Shut up!”

After looking to make sure no one is listening, I turn back to her. “I can’t do it, Reece. I can’t be with him like that, and I hate myself for it.”

“Do you know how crazy you sound right now? What do you mean?”

Good question. “I moved here to get over a broken heart, and when I started messing around with Blake, I thought I could do it. I thought someone else still owned my heart . . . that it wasn’t mine to steal. I was wrong; I had it, and Blake took it right out of my hands. I know he’s not the right guy, but I’m having a hard time letting him go.”

“And Pierce?” she asks quietly, hanging on my every word.

“I wish things were different. I wish I’d fallen for him, but it’s hard to fall when I’m already down.”

“Is it impossible?”

“What?”

“To fall for Pierce?”

I close my eyes, thinking about what it would be like to be the woman on Pierce’s arm. To have him worship me . . . to take care of me. How safe it would feel. It’s what I imagined last night, lying in my quiet, dark apartment. It should’ve been him.

“No,” I say honestly. “I just can’t have a future with someone when I haven’t closed the book on my past.”

“Have you talked to Blake, to try to work this all out?”

I stare down at my full soup bowl, stirring my spoon along its edges. “No. He’s out of town for a few days.”

“Lila, you know you can trust me, don’t you?”

I nod.

“When he gets back, you need to talk to him . . . you need to let him go.”

I nod again. It’s all I can do. She’s not telling me anything I don’t already know. It’s just not that easy.

We head back to the office, and I get lost in a sea of fabric samples for the rest of the afternoon. The day speeds by, giving way to a much-needed weekend. I’m actually looking forward to Charlie’s, to the distraction it provides.

As I step outside, I wrap my arms tightly around my stomach. It’s dark, and light snow flurries blow across my face.

I’m about to round the corner to the train stop when I come face to face with the man I’ve been trying to avoid all day long.

I’ve never been very good at hide-and-seek.

“Hey,” he says quietly, tucking his hands in his pockets.

“Hi.”

“I haven’t seen you all day. Have you been avoiding me?”

He’s standing so close the light breeze carries his scent toward me. The lies that want to slip from my lips fade from memory.

“Maybe,” I answer quietly, brushing my hair from my face.

He reaches up, hesitantly, helping with a strand I missed. “I don’t want it to be this way.”

“I’m good at running.”

“Don’t run from me.”

“You don’t know me, Pierce.”

“I want to,” he replies quickly, brushing his thumb across my cool cheek. “Friends, Lila. That’s all I’m asking for.”

I nod against his palm. It feels too good to pull away.

“I was just about to grab some coffee around the corner. Do you want to join me?” he asks.

“I have plans.”

His hand falls away. “Have you talked to him?”

He doesn’t need to clarify. My whole world revolves around him right now. It also doesn’t get past me that he assumed my plans were with Blake. I guess I can’t blame him. “No, he’s out of town for a while, I guess.”

His expression softens. “Can I at least give you a ride somewhere?”

I think about it for a few seconds, hearing the train leaving in the distance. It will be at least fifteen minutes before the next one. “Yeah, if it’s not too far out of your way, that would be great. Thank you.”

He makes a quick call and two minutes later his black Escalade pulls up. We both jump in, leaving downtown Chicago as a backdrop.

“Are you going home for Christmas?” he asks, breaking through the silence. I feel him staring at me but fixate my eyes on the passing buildings.

“No, not this year.” I’ve been so consumed by everything that’s going on in my life, I almost forgot it’s only days away. It’s too late to make plans now, even if I could afford it.

“You better not be spending it alone in that tiny apartment of yours, Ms. Fields.” I kind of like when he calls me that. It brings me back to when we first met . . . when things were normal.