Текст книги "Red Carpet Kiss"

Автор книги: Melissa Brown

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Текущая страница: 4 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

Whitney was right. Elle wanted this, and she needed to own it.

“Come in,” she said, letting her apprehension slide from her shoulders.

Linus yapped at Luke’s feet, hopping on his hind legs and sniffing Luke’s pants.

“Who’s this little guy?”

“That’s Linus. Sorry, he’s a little jumpy.”

Luke smiled, crouching down to pet the exuberant terrier. “It’s no problem. I love dogs.”

For just a moment, Elle watched as Luke showered her companion with affection. A sweet ache developed in her gut as Luke scratched behind Linus’ ears and Linus soaked it up.

“He’s so cute,” Luke said, rising to his feet.

Elle snapped her fingers. “C’mon, Linus. Let’s get you a treat.”

Reluctantly, Linus followed Elle into the kitchen, torn between his new best friend and a snack. She retrieved a handful of treats and placed them on the floor. As Linus gobbled his goodies, she returned to Luke, who was taking in his surroundings.

“Wow, this place . . .” His voice trailed off as he walked around the circular, two-story foyer. A large glass table sat in the middle of the room. Elle placed the bouquet on the table and then watched as Luke studied her home.

“It’s pretty new. I’m still getting settled in,” she lied. She’d been there for over a year, but for some reason she didn’t want him to know just how wealthy she was. But who was she kidding? He knew.

“It’s really charming . . . which is fitting.” He removed his sunglasses, placing them in the pocket of his jacket.

“Would you like a drink?” Elle offered, not quite ready to have Luke leave her home. She was craving the privacy only a residence could provide.

“Sure, what do you have?”

Elle gestured for him to follow her back to the butler’s pantry where he could view her selection of spirits. Luke inspected the bottles, before lifting her untouched bottle of Johnnie Walker Platinum. Her heart sank for just a moment in the realization the bottle would finally be opened.

“Scotch would be great.” He cleared his throat. “On the rocks, please.”

Elle took a deep breath and gave him the most confident smile she could produce. She couldn’t let him see her silly reaction to opening a simple bottle of scotch. “You got it.”

She poured a glass for herself, making it a double and adding a twist of lemon.

“No ice?” Luke asked, perking up an eyebrow.

“Nope,” she said.

“I’m impressed. My kinda woman.” He raised his glass to hers, and clinked. They each took a sip, although secretly Elle wanted to down the entire glass. It wouldn’t be her first time doing that, but she didn’t want to give the wrong impression. The last thing she needed was Luke assuming she had some sort of drinking problem.

“Should we sit?” she asked, leading him to the firm gray couch in the formal living room. Luke followed behind her, and when they reached the couch, he waited for her to sit, then eased himself next to her, his arm perched atop the back of the couch.

“I’m glad you were willing to see me tonight.”

“Willing?” She challenged him, raising her eyebrows and hooking her bottom teeth under her lip. “That’s an interesting word choice.”

“Leave it to the writer to analyze my vocabulary.”

Elle blushed slightly, but waited for him to explain what he meant by “willing.” When she was quiet moments later, Luke shrugged. “Well, you know, after our first date, I wasn’t sure.”

Elle decided to challenge him, remembering the feel of his lips on her skin. “You seemed pretty confident in the parking lot.”

“Ah.” He gave her a cocky smirk before taking a sip. “I guess you’re right.”

Elle finished her scotch, and, feeling her apprehension slide away, she placed the empty glass on the coffee table, embracing the desire coursing through her veins.

“So acting . . . was it always a dream of yours or were you just seduced by the charms of your environment?” Without hesitation, she placed her hand on Luke’s thigh, her fingers delighted at the thick fibers beneath his pants. His quads were tight and firm.

“I guess you could say that. I think, when I was like five or six, I wanted to be a vet. Our dog died and I wanted to fix him.”

Elle’s fingers stroked the fabric of his pants and Luke took a deep breath. “Well, that’s sweet.” She embraced the feeling of control infusing her senses. He wanted her; of this she was certain. And she wanted him. God, she wanted him. It’s not that she didn’t want to take a walk down memory lane with Luke, to learn about his childhood and the name of the family dog. But at that moment, it was no longer high on her list of priorities. She wanted him above her, drinking her in with his touch. She wanted his hands everywhere, touching each and every inch of her body. She wanted him inside her, driving her to the incredible release she knew he could provide.

Luke polished off the rest of his scotch, leaning forward to place the glass firmly on the table. He turned to Elle, his eyes wide and blazing. The muscles of his jaw flexed as he swallowed. His hands reached to cup her face, his eyes locked with hers.

“You’re so beautiful.” It came out in a hoarse whisper.

Elle said nothing, but licked her lips in a slow, sensual motion, moving her hand from his thigh, to the growing bulge in his pants. She was done holding back with Luke. She wanted his lips on her . . . everywhere. She cupped him, never breaking eye contact and watched as the corners of Luke’s mouth pulled into a smile.

He smiled and then he kissed her. No more teasing, feathery motion. This kiss was demanding and full of desire. His hand drifted to wrap around the back of her neck as his lips and tongue explored her mouth. She opened for him, wanting him to deepen the kiss as she stroked him through the fabric of his pants.

“Bedroom?” Luke asked, his voice smooth and unwavering as he moved his attention to her neck. His lips caressed and his tongue stroked the sensitive skin beneath her chin. Elle nodded, broke herself from his embrace, took his hand, and led him upstairs to the master bedroom.

Elle hadn’t planned for him to see her bedroom. Unintentionally, the Beatles’ Abbey Road album had been left to play on repeat after she’d gotten ready for their date. Elle hurried to her CD player to silence the music.

“No, it’s okay,” Luke said, following her to the stereo. His fingers danced down the skin of her shoulders, making her shiver. “You can leave it on.”

A moment of hesitation clouded Elle’s thoughts. She wasn’t so sure she was ready to share her beloved Beatles. As odd as that sounded, even to her, they were special—and such a part of her past with Troy. Quickly, she thought of a solution by grabbing another disc—a neutral band that meant absolutely nothing to her. She swapped it for the current CD, and returned her attention to Luke.

“This is better.”

“Whatever you say. You’re in charge.” Luke dragged one finger down past her temple and cheek, stopping at her chin. He gripped the skin and bone, pulling her back to him. His lips consumed hers once again, and he turned her, walking her back toward the bed. His nimble fingers eased her out of her dress with next to no effort. Her black silk dress pooled around her ankles, leaving her in only her red lace bra and panties. Slowly, he lowered her down onto the soft mattress, his hands roaming her body as his lips did the same. His hands moved back and forth over her exposed abdomen, dipping down to stroke her over her panties.

Arousal built within her, so much so she felt she might explode if not given the release she so desperately needed. Her fingers grasped his hair, pulling him back to her mouth. Her tongue twisted and turned, dancing with his, and her hands fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. Luke pulled away slightly, smiled, and unfastened the buttons quickly, stripping his shirt from his body. Elle’s eyes widened as she took in the sight of his tan pecs. Beneath them, his ridged muscles formed delectable washboard abs. He was astonishing.

Next came the belt. He removed it quickly before dropping his pants to the floor, revealing forest green boxers that clung to the sinewy muscles of his thighs. Although Elle was more than impressed by what she saw, she wanted those briefs to join his pants on her floor. She slid herself toward him, hooking her fingers beneath the waistband of the briefs, and eased them down. She stared at his naked body with satisfaction as her heart hammered beneath her chest. Her desire for Luke was mounting. She needed him, all of him.

Luke stripped her of her bra, staring at her breasts with appreciation before taking one nipple into his mouth. Electricity spread throughout her body. His fingers dipped beneath the waistband of her panties and he tugged until they tumbled to the carpet below, tickling her calves as they fell.

Luke released her nipple from his mouth, and Elle found herself yearning for him to return to the now-hardened peak that longed for his touch. His eyes were hooded and dark. “Lie back.”

She obeyed, laying herself down on the bed, pulling him to lie above her, enjoying the weight of his body against her own. They fit together so naturally, the curves of her body easing into his. Comfortable yet sexy. Their kisses sweet yet passionate. A condom wrapper crinkled beneath his closed fist. His desire for protected sex aroused her even more. She pressed her lips to the firm muscles of his chest. “I want you. Now.”

A satisfied smile crossed Luke’s face before he ripped open the condom wrapper and rolled the sheath down. Instead of entering her and pressing her against the firm mattress, Luke rolled to his back, pulling Elle to straddle above him. When Elle looked down with confusion, he raised his eyebrows and gripped her hips.

“I told you, you’re in charge.”

How did Luke know how much Elle craved the power of being in control? It didn’t matter. All that mattered was he was lying beneath her, hard and ready. She eased herself onto him, her muscles stretching with each delectable inch. Her hands stretched to press into his shoulders as she moved up and down, letting him enter her again and again. Pressure built quickly within her, her hips twisted in a circular motion and her head hung down, allowing the tips of her blonde hair to tickle Luke’s chest. He grunted and moaned beneath her, his fingertips digging into the skin of her hips.

Elle’s arousal climbed and climbed until she knew she’d break apart at any second. Her orgasm rippled through her and she cried out, throwing her head back in bliss. “Oh God!”

Once Elle had found her release, Luke began to thrust harder beneath her, lifting his hips off the bed as he pounded into her again and again until his climax manifested itself in several loud grunts, his fingers still digging into her skin. The mixture of pleasure and pain swirled within Elle, forming pure satisfaction within her body.

Elle separated her body from his, lying down next to him, her head resting comfortably on his bicep. Luke played with her hair as his breath evened. Normally Elle would be mortified their “date” had been nothing but a roll in her sheets, but her mind was so blissfully numb, she just didn’t care.

“Wow,” Luke exhaled, “didn’t expect that.”

“Yeah, well . . . it’s been a long four days.”

“Indeed.” His fingers left her hair and drifted to trace the line of her silhouette, moving in soothing motions along her ignited skin. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

“Should we get dressed? Go out?”

Elle pondered the question, then realized she’d much rather enjoy dinner with Luke inside the sexy confines of her bedroom. “Takeout?”

Luke grinned before nuzzling into her neck. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

“There’s a great Chinese place a few miles away that delivers.”

“Perfect. I’ll eat anything, so—”

“I’ll surprise you.”

Reluctantly, Elle pulled away from Luke to stand, retrieving her bathrobe from the hook of her bathroom door. The fluffy cotton enveloped her in comfort as her body still hummed from their encounter. She loved how easy everything was thus far. This easy-going, highly sexual, and ridiculously gorgeous Adonis was lying in her bed, seemingly just as crazy about her as she was about him. Never had a relationship (or something resembling one) been so easy, so effortless. She’d had passion before, but this time it was combined with comfort, rather than constant chaos and miscommunication.

She strolled down the winding staircase to reach her kitchen. Flipping through the menus, she found the one for China Palace and quickly dialed the number on the front flap. After ordering half the dishes on the menu, unsure of what she was in the mood for, she heard footsteps. Warm lips met the skin of her ear and soft hands weaved through her hair, pushing it to the side to give his mouth better access to her skin. Elle turned to face Luke.

“It’ll be here in thirty minutes.”

“That’s just about enough time . . .” Luke’s words trailed off as he resumed the seduction of her neck. Elle giggled before allowing herself to be swept up, once again, in the man named Luke Kingston.

Elle and Troy Saladino had had a tumultuous friendship filled with sexual tension that reached an all-time high on a camping trip during the fall of their sophomore year in college.

Elle sat at a picnic table with her friend, Staci, watching the six guys construct the various tents. Troy’s muscles flexed beneath his polo shirt while he attempted to snap two of the metal pieces together. As it was her tent, Elle rolled her eyes, knowing Troy was doing it completely wrong.

“Um, Troy, I think you—” she began, her tone snide. She always enjoyed giving him a hard time.

“Keep it to yourself, Rigby. It’s under control,” he answered, not even giving her a second glance. When she and Troy became friends, they realized they had both been raised on the Beatles. Each Sunday morning, their families listened to 105.9 WCKG’s Breakfast with the Beatles. Elle’s father would make pancakes and bacon and the radio would stay on the entire program. Troy’s parents had done the same. When she revealed she was named after the song “Eleanor Rigby,” Troy’s nickname for her was born. Secretly, she loved it and hoped he’d never call her by her actual name.

“I’m serious, you may want to look at the instructions.”

Troy grabbed a sleeping bag and tossed it her way. “If I wanted your opinion—”

“You’d give it to me,” Elle interrupted, finishing his statement with a quick roll of her eyes. “Whatever.”

“Ugh,” Staci lamented, throwing her hair behind her shoulder. “Why don’t you two just do it already?”

Elle’s heart rate sped out of control. She swatted Staci across the arm and avoided eye contact with Troy, but she felt his soulful brown eyes on her. They’d never discussed the sexual tension looming between them. They’d never dissected their banter to find its source. In fact, despite their constant flirtation, Elle had no idea if Troy thought about her in that way. Did he fantasize about her the way she did about him?

He was recently single. He’d broken up with Amanda Bauer—again—a girl who lived in Eleanor’s dorm, just two weeks prior. Aside from her obvious good looks, long blonde hair, beaming green eyes, and alabaster skin, Amanda was the most boring human being Elle had met in her nineteen years. She was one of those girls who waited to hear your preferences before answering a question.

For example, Elle had joined Troy and Amanda for a quick lunch between classes.

“So, Amanda, what’s your favorite show?” Elle was always interested in television series.

The blonde took a deep breath, her eyes pained. She looked physically stressed and Elle couldn’t understand what could be so perplexing about such a question. All she wanted to do was know this girl a little bit better, to understand what Troy found so appealing.

“Um, I don’t really watch that much television. How about you?” Her eyes perked up, looking relieved to have placed the “pressure” on Elle’s shoulders.

“Dawson’s Creek. I’m addicted.” Elle scooped a large bite of salad into her mouth.

Amanda’s face brightened. “Yes! Dawson! He’s so hot.”

“Actually, I prefer Pacey.”

“Oh, well, yeah. He’s totally hot, too.”

Interesting, Elle had thought. Conversations like this one had taken place frequently during Troy’s agonizing four months linked to Amanda. Elle felt he deserved better—someone with more than just a pretty face and flawless complexion. He needed someone who challenged him, someone who made him think. Someone who corrected him when he was putting a tent together improperly . . .

A minute passed after Staci’s remark and finally Troy returned to the tent. Elle busied herself by organizing the drinks in the cooler. With each can she moved, she knew his eyes were still on her, daring her to look in his direction. But she couldn’t. If she did look his way, he’d know the truth. He’d know how she felt about him—he’d know she’d fantasized about the two of them together, that she wanted to know how his lips felt against hers.

Troy cleared his throat. “Hey, Rigby, will you give me a hand?”

Elle froze, dropped a can of cola into the cooler, shut the top, and walked to Troy, coaching herself mentally.

Be strong. Show no fear.

“I thought you’d never ask.” She nudged him in the ribs, and his lips perked up into a half smile. “My poor tent, I’m surprised it’s not in shambles by now.”

Elle shook her head as she picked up pieces of the tent, trying to mask the smile creeping up on her face. She loved giving Troy a hard time but had trouble developing a poker face when around him. He always saw right through any facade she attempted to create.

Troy shook his head slowly. His top teeth dug into his bottom lip. Elle loved when he did that. On Troy, sarcasm was sexy.

“Such a smart ass.” He grabbed the tent back from her. “Forget I asked.”

From anyone else, this attitude would have been a major turnoff, but with Troy it was an odd form of foreplay. They fed off of one another’s snark. No, this wasn’t a turnoff; it was an invitation.

Together, they built the tent successfully while continuously ribbing one another. When it was complete, however, he wrapped an arm around her, his hand hanging down from her shoulder.

“We did good.”

Elle turned to look him in the eye. “Yeah, I suppose we did.”

“We’re a good team, Rigby.”

This time, when Troy looked at her, his snark was long gone. He swallowed hard while his eyes peered into hers. Part of her wanted to break the eye contact, but she couldn’t—it was too powerful. Her hair was up in a ponytail, but during construction of the tent, a few large strands had fallen. They sat in front of her eyes. Troy turned his body, removing his arm from her shoulder, and pushed her hair from her eyes. He pressed the strands behind her ear.

“There,” he said, his words soft. “That’s better.”

The sun had set and the small group of campers gathered around the fire. Their bellies were full with hot dogs and marshmallows cooked by the fire. Beer was passed around and dirty jokes were spewing from the guys’ mouths.

Elle and Troy sat together, nestled under a blanket. Troy cracked jokes with the guys, but she noticed how attentive he was. During dinner, he served her first before eating. When she cracked up at the jokes, he fixed the blanket to make sure she was covered and comfortable. Yes, they were little things. But to Elle, the little things were enormous. Troy had always been a thoughtful friend, but this felt like more, like something was building between them.

“Hey,” he whispered into her ear. “Wanna go for a walk?”

“Sure.”

Troy grabbed two flashlights, and they walked down the path. The campground they were staying in was patrolled and monitored at night, so Elle felt safe walking around the grounds with him.

“I used to go camping all the time as a kid. Did I tell you that?”

“No,” Elle replied. She liked that Troy was revealing more of himself to her. She wanted to know everything about him.

“My dad was an Eagle Scout and thought it was important, I guess. I learned all those knots, how to make a fire—”

“Obviously, he skipped tent-building.”

Troy shook his head. “Can’t let one by, huh?”

“Not with you.”

Troy stopped and he crossed his arms in front of his broad chest. “Why is that?”

Elle was confused. “What do you mean?”

“You and me. We’re always, I don’t know, giving each other crap. Why is that?”

Elle was more than confused—she was stunned. She thought that was a positive thing in their relationship. He kept her on her toes and she had assumed she did the same for him. Was she wrong?

“That’s just how we are, I guess.” She shrugged, not knowing what else to say.

“I’m not like that with anyone else. Not even my little sister.”

Thank God, Elle thought. The last person she wanted to be compared to was Troy’s sister. But she didn’t like how this conversation was going. During their short stay on the campgrounds, she had felt her denial start to slip away—if Troy was letting her down easy, she would be crushed.

“You didn’t like Amanda, did you?” he asked.

“Does it matter?”

“Yes.”

“Why? Who you date is your business, not mine.”

Troy stopped. He kicked the rocks beneath his feet. Even beneath the dark night sky, Elle could see the frustration in his knitted brow. “I guess.”

They walked together, following the gravel path away from the campground and into a wooded area. The only sound was the crackling of the gravel beneath their feet. Elle wanted to push him, to discover what on earth he was trying to say, and to understand why he was frustrated.

Frustration and silence were not a healthy combination. Elle’s chest ached as she pondered her next move. She wanted terribly to drag the stagnant conversation back to a place she understood. Normally, she’d give him a hard time to reel him back into their banter, but apparently Troy was conflicted about the state of their relationship. Banter was not the answer.

The sound of crackling twigs could be heard behind the bushes near the gravel path. Troy froze and held his hand out to block Elle from walking forward. “Did you hear that?”

“Yes.” It came out in a choked whisper. She was so wrapped up in her emotions, she’d forgotten they were two teenagers walking alone at night. Normally, Elle would have voiced concern over leaving the safety of the supervised grounds, but the reticence between them stifled the cool air and she didn’t want to increase their already strained conversation.

Troy grasped her forearm and held a finger up to his lips. She nodded, indicating she wouldn’t make a sound. She stood like stone, looking from side to side, hoping a small animal, like a rabbit or chipmunk, would reveal itself and remove the fear surrounding them in the darkness.

Troy moved toward the bush, shining his flashlight and lifting the branches to inspect what could possibly be hiding behind the layers of evergreen. A muffled growl came from the ground beneath the bush and Troy stepped back.

“We should go. C’mon,” he said, placing his hand on the small of Elle’s back and guiding her to walk quickly down the path, back to the safety of the campground.

“What was that?” Her lungs were heaving.

“Just keep moving.” Troy looked behind them several times, his arm wrapped completely around her waist as they increased their pace. The familiar glow of campfires welcomed them and Elle felt at ease. They would be fine. Troy, however, didn’t look so relieved.

“Troy?” Elle asked, turning to place a hand on his shoulder. “Are you all right?”

“I would never let anything hurt you. You know that, right?” His nostrils flared, and his chocolate-brown eyes gleamed in the moonlight. Protective Troy made something stir in Elle. She pressed her hands behind his neck and pulled him to her.

He crushed her lips with his, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her toward his firm chest. Elle could feel his heart pounding. She opened her mouth, inviting him to deepen the kiss. He moaned into her mouth as his tongue met hers. They moved together in unison—it was everything Elle had thought it could be. He pulled the elastic from her ponytail, allowing her hair to tumble past her shoulders. He ran his fingers from the roots to the tips before dragging his fingernails down her back. His hands then roamed underneath her cotton shirt and she arched in response to the slight sting of his fingernails grazing her skin. His mouth moved to her neck as his hands continued to climb up her back. She looked up at the starry sky, wondering where this was headed and what it all meant. Even at times like these, it was impossible for her to turn off her brain, to truly lose herself in someone else. She craved control. But with Troy, she could never quite get it. The push, the pull was always in control of both of them.

“Should we . . . head back?” It wasn’t what she wanted. But the need to control was a strong one—and a part of her personality difficult to suppress.

“Is that what you want?” Troy murmured between kisses. Her skin tingled with each kiss.

“I don’t know.”

Troy pulled back, placing both hands on her waist. “That’s not true. You know. Tell me what you want.”

Elle hesitated before telling the truth. Before risking everything. “You. I want you.”

He shook his head with a smile. “You have me.”

“Do I?” Elle narrowed her eyes, conveying her doubt with a simple glance. She didn’t just want one night with Troy. She wanted so much more than that. At least, she thought she did.

Troy nodded; his expression turned serious. He ran his fingers through her hair before running the side of his hand down her cheek. “If you only knew, Rigby.”

Relief flooded Elle and she pressed her lips to his once again, pulling him close to her, making the decision to let go of her need to control. Her hand dipped down to grip him beneath his jeans.

She murmured into his neck. “Should we go to my tent?”

Troy licked his lips before pursing them together. “Are you ready for that? I mean, I know you haven’t—”

Troy was fully aware of Elle’s virginity, but she didn’t have any intention of discussing it. Regardless of what happened after that night, she knew right then, right there, she wanted Troy to be her first.

“Shh.” She placed a finger on his lips. “I’m ready.”

They walked hand in hand back to the tent. The others had already gone to sleep and Elle realized just how long they’d been gone on their walk. Troy unzipped the flap of the tent, revealing an empty space just for them. He unzipped the rest of the flap and gestured for her to enter. The tent was warm and her sleeping bag was open and ready. She sat down on the cool fabric, removing her shirt and unsnapping her jeans. Troy zipped the flap of the tent and knelt down next to her on the sleeping bag.

“Rigby,” he whispered. “Are you sure?”

Elle nodded, pulling his shirt from his body. She ran her fingertips down his chest, enjoying the warmth of his skin on her fingertips.

“I’m sure.”

The next morning, she bristled at his touch. When he attempted to snuggle with her beneath the sleeping bag, she pulled away, explaining she needed to use the bathroom. She avoided his eyes, knowing he’d see right through her lies.

When they’d finished making love just hours before, Troy had stroked her back gently before he dozed off to sleep. And although she enjoyed herself immensely, and knew he cared for her and they were meant to be together, Elle cried herself to sleep, silent tears streaming down her face.

The truth was, she was terrified.

She wasn’t ready.

And she was a self-saboteur. The epitome of a self-saboteur.

Troy was everything she’d wanted, but she was petrified of actually having him—of actually being happy. Happiness required vulnerability—something Elle was terribly uncomfortable with, because vulnerability meant giving up control and that was something Elle just couldn’t do no matter what her heart wanted. She sobbed in the shower stall of the campground ladies’ room. When Staci attempted to comfort her, she asked her to leave.

When she returned to the campsite, Troy stood next to the deconstructed tent. Again, she avoided his eyes, not sure of what to say. She knew it was over before it even started. And she knew it was her fault.

“Hey,” he said, leaning in close. “What’s going on?”

Elle faked a smile. “Nothing, I’m fine. How are you? Did you sleep okay?”

“Rigby, c’mon. Did I . . . did I hurt you or something?” He ran one hand down her arm. She flinched at his touch and his eyes widened in disbelief.

“No, I . . .” She glanced around the campsite, worried their friends were watching the awkward interaction. “I just need to get back. I have a lot of studying to do.”

“Okay, I’ll drive you.”

“No.” She shook her head, retrieving the tent from his arms. “You stay, hang out with the guys. I’ll ask Staci.”

Troy rubbed his hand against his forehead. “I don’t understand what’s happening. I mean, last night—”

“It was nothing. We’re fine, just like always.” She shrugged.

She hated herself for being so dismissive. Troy’s pained expression made her heart ache, but she was on autopilot, running away in a complete panic. Running away from the only guy she’d ever really wanted.

What in the hell is the matter with me?

Troy didn’t speak to her for two weeks. She’d almost given up on their friendship completely when she found out he’d gone back to dating Amanda. He’d done that to spite her; she was fully aware of that. Troy never shied away from making a point.

But in the strangest of ways, his dating the woman who’d grated so terribly on Elle’s nerves became their truce. He dated Amanda for another year, and slowly Elle eased her way back into a friendship with the man she secretly desired, but knew she couldn’t quite handle. She knew if she fell for Troy, he could break her heart. She couldn’t control their relationship. She couldn’t avoid heartbreak or disappointment.

She told herself that Troy was better off with someone like Amanda. Someone who hung on his every word, who never said anything contrary to his beliefs or opinions. Someone the opposite of her. Someone who wasn’t so afraid of falling in love.

And after a while, she believed the lie that when it came to Troy Saladino, she was friend material and nothing more. The self-saboteur inside her had won.