my pocket when it buzzed. There were several texts from Baker and one from Mallory. I opened Mallory’s first.
“Hope you feel horrible. Can I come over later? We need to talk.”
The text was so cryptic I had no idea what the real meaning was. I typed out a reply telling her to come over whenever she wanted.
I got up and made my way to the bathroom. I reeked of beer. I remembered Baker’s texts and glanced at them. He wanted to know if I was all right and he complained about his own hangover. I sent a reply and turned on the hot water.
Half an hour later, I felt human again and my head was starting to clear. I didn’t think I would have another drink for a while. I pulled on a pair of boxers and then my jeans and zipped them but left the button undone. I went into the living room and found Mallory pacing in front of the couch.
“Oh, hey. The, umm …,” she trailed off as she stared at my chest. She shook her head and then continued. “The door was unlocked, so I just let myself in.”
I fought back a smile. “No problem.”
I made my way to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. It was after eight, but still early enough for coffee. I tried not to notice what she wore. Her short jean skirt and tiny pink tank top were revealing enough to kick my imagination into overdrive.
“So what did you want to talk about?”
She paused. “Well, there’s no easy way to say this, Luke.”
“Then just say it, Mallory. We’ve known each other too long to get tongue-tied.”
“You’re right. Last night, I brought you home and you mentioned Jason again. I even managed to get you to tell me how you knew about him. I’m sorry I told you about him after I’d been drinking the other night.”
“What, or rather, who, you do in Boston is your business, not mine,” I muttered.
“Don’t be an ass. I’m apologizing, especially if I gave you the impression I was still seeing him. I’m not.”
I tried to calm my rapidly beating heart. Did that mean she was single ?
She waited for my response.
I wanted to sound nonchalant, but it came off sarcastic. The problem was, I was entirely too excited to hear she wasn’t seeing someone than I should have been.
“Good for you,” I said.
She seemed to need to spell it out. “I’m single.”
I sucked in a breath as she moved closer to me in the kitchen.
She trailed her delicate hand down my chest to the opening of my jeans. “It is good for me, but it’s also good for you. ”
I swallowed hard. “What do you want from me?” I whispered, terrified of the answer.
“Just you, Luke. I’ve always wanted you,” she said slowly.
She put her hands around my neck and pulled me toward her. I knew, long before our lips touched, that she was going to break my heart again. But the knowledge didn’t stop me from wrapping my arms around her waist. Our bodies melded together as I put my lips on hers. She sighed and tightened her hands around my neck.
I probed her lips with my tongue and she opened them for me. It was like coming home. I’d missed her for three long years and her smell, her touch, her taste overwhelmed me. My whole body shook in anticipation. I’m not sure how much time passed—minutes, hours—as I kissed her, but when we pulled apart, we were both out of breath.
“I’m done running, Luke,” she whispered.
She laid her head on my shoulder and we stood there like that for what felt like days. When the coffee pot beeped, I knew it had only been a few minutes.
“Do you want to talk?” I asked her.
She shook her head.
“I just want you.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. I ignored the coffee and tugged her into my bedroom. The bed was made and I thanked God for the little things. I closed the door and took her into my arms. It was surreal and amazing at the same time. I’d waited years to hold her like this again, and here she was, telling me she wanted me. I must be dreaming.
She laughed against my lips. “It’s not a dream.”
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