I Will Love You Page 5

  “Hey, we’re going to have fun,” Slade said. “I promise it’ll be a night you’ll never forget.”

  “I’m sure,” I said. “But it’ll probably be because of all the crazy shit you’re going to pull.”

  Slade shrugged. “Wouldn’t be a real bachelorette party if I didn’t, right?”

  Conrad ate another piece of cake. “I’m so glad I’m not going.”

  Dad walked away. “And I’m so glad I don’t have to hear about it.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Heath

  That fight was different than all the other ones.

  Or was it just because I felt different?

  It hit me then and there that Roland would never tell his parents about our romantic relationship. He would always make excuses to put it off. I understood why he was scared. Losing my family wasn’t easy, and even to this day it haunted me. I dreaded every Christmas because it only reminded me of what I lost. But I couldn’t accept what Roland was giving me. If I ever wanted to have a Christmas with my new family, my husband would have to be honest about who I was.

  There was no future for us.

  And judging the way Roland screamed and yelled at me, he didn’t want a future either.

  We were done.

  Losing him was traumatic. I couldn’t deny how much I loved him. Before he admitted he was gay, I loved him then. He was just my straight friend I was insanely attracted to. I hoped that he felt something for me but I was never certain. But there was an obvious connection between us. I remembered the first time we kissed in his apartment. It was spectacular. Memories of our time together flushed through me.

  And brought tears to my eyes.

  But Ander was right. I shouldn’t settle for someone who refused to give me what I wanted. I did it once before and it was stupid to do it all over again. Ander said he was willing to come clean now but could I really trust him? But why would he lie?

  Either way, I couldn’t just go back to Ander like nothing happened.

  Because I couldn’t forget about Roland.

  Our relationship was doomed to fail from the beginning, and in the back of my heart, I knew that. But I wanted him so much that I let it continue. Now it was biting me in the ass, making me regret all those beautiful memories we made together.

  As pathetic as it sounded, I kept waiting for Roland to come back to me and apologize. I waited for him to say he told his parents about us. Stupid daydreams came to my mind of us getting back together. But as the days passed and he continued to ignore me, I couldn’t deny the truth.

  We were over.

  He never came to my apartment. He never called me. And at work, he ignored me.

  I put my finished articles in his drop box so I wouldn’t have to interact with him directly. If he had any criticisms of my work, he kept it to himself. He probably made the changes without telling me then published it without my consent. I didn’t know because I never read anything I wrote.

  When a week had passed, I knew he wasn’t coming back. And I knew I couldn’t get over him if we worked together and lived in the same building. I had to make those changes otherwise I may never recover.

  ***

  Nora allowed me to move a few floors down. Now I was writing about the music industry. It wasn’t a bad gig to have. I enjoyed all kinds of music, and New York City was the center for the greatest bands and recording studios in the world. It could be worse.

  I found a new apartment a few blocks over. It was a longer walk to work but at least I would never run into Roland. I had a completely different route and I used a different set of elevators.

  But I was still depressed.

  Would I ever get over Roland? Ander was the love of my life, or at least I thought he was. Did Roland replace him? Is that why I felt so sick? Is that why I couldn’t eat or sleep? Was that why my dreams were always full of Roland?

  I started painting again, and most of my pieces were of Roland. When I used to wake up in the mornings first, I would watch him sleep. His face was always relaxed, and his lips were partially opened. Fascinated, I would stare until we woke up. Then I would claim him as my own.

  And that’s what I painted. I had five different pieces of Roland sleeping in my bed. I kept drawing it over and over, trying to capture the moment perfectly. The sunlight had to be just right. The way the sheets covered him had to be perfect. A painting was a glorified picture. It may not accurately portray reality but it captured what I felt in that moment.

  I did the same thing with Ander’s painting. I went through at least twenty different trial images before I finally perfected it. The piece embodied our entire relationship, the way I would stare at him when he thought I wasn’t looking. Just thinking about it reminded me of so much. It made me realize how similar my relationship to Ander was to Roland’s. But I also realized how abundantly different they were.

  I just finished the piece when the phone rang.

  Roland?

  Did he finally realize I moved out?

  Did he realize I worked on a different floor now?

  Did he want me back?

  I grabbed my phone but sighed in disappointment when I saw Ander’s name. Why was he chasing me now when he should have chased me then? Why wasn’t Roland trying to make this relationship work now? Nothing about this was fair.

  “Hello?” I said when I answered the call.

  “Hey.” Ander’s deep voice came into my ear, exactly the way it used to years ago. “Just checking in.”

  I stayed silent and stared at the painting in front of me.

  “How are you?”

  “Terrible.” I wasn’t going to bother pretending I was okay when I felt like destroying my easel right then and there.

  “You want to talk to me about it?”

  “No.”

  The line went quiet for a minute. “You left Roland.” It wasn’t a question.

  I didn’t respond.

  “You did the right thing, Heath. You deserve better than him.”

  I tried not to break down. Talking about it to someone was making me weak. “He doesn’t care…I’ve moved and he doesn’t care. I’ve quit my job and he doesn’t care.” Tears burned in my eyes. “He hasn’t even called me. Why did I have to love someone who never really loved me?”

  “Sometimes things just don’t work out,” he said gently. “Maybe he just needs more time.”

  “I told him he needs to tell his parents and he just stormed out…” The memory played in my mind.

  “Maybe he just needs space.”

  I shook my head even though Ander couldn’t see me. “No…this was different. We haven’t spoken in a week. We’re done.”

  “I’m sorry, Heath. I hate hearing the pain in your voice.”

  Ander was the last person I thought I would find any comfort in.

  “But remember, you want a husband and a family someday. You can’t have that with someone who refuses to give it to you. So, in a way, this is a good thing. Now you aren’t wasting anymore time. It may hurt now but it won’t hurt forever.”

  Tears leaked from my eyes and fell down my cheeks.

  “How about you come over and we’ll talk about it?” he said quietly. “I can make those pancakes you like.”

  He remembered? I wanted to be with someone who understood my pain and it seemed like Ander did. But I felt wrong for seeing him. I wasn’t sure why but I did. “No, it’s okay. I just want to be alone right now.”

  “But—”

  “I’ll see you around.” I hung up so I didn’t have to listen to his protests. Then I turned back to my painting, realizing Roland was really gone. I had to start over. Would I ever find the right guy to spend my life with? Or would my life always be full of heartbreak?

  ***

  The next two days were unbearable. Roland didn’t call, and like a loser, I waited by the phone in the hope he would. I waited for a text message that never came. When I was at my desk, I kept looking up to see him approach me. When I slept, my dreams
were full of him but they were so depressing they were more of nightmares.

  I accepted Roland wasn’t coming back. But that didn’t make it any easier. Depressed and unsure what to do, I picked up the phone and called Ander.

  “Hey,” he said. “I’m glad you called me.”

  “Want to get coffee?” I wasn’t sure what I was doing but I didn’t want to be alone anymore. I wanted something.

  Anything.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Conrad

  Dad came into my office. “What are you doing after work today?”

  I ignored my computer and turned to him. “Depends…why are you asking?”

  A look of amusement was in his eyes. “Your mother and I are playing tennis. You want to join us?”

  “Oh.” That sounded fun. “Sure. I’ll ask Roland to play.”

  “How about you ask Lexie instead?” He put his hands in his pockets and tried to act casual.

  I gave him a suspicious look. “Why Lexie? What’s wrong with Roland?”

  “There’s nothing wrong with Roland,” he said immediately. “Your mother and I liked Lexie. We’d like to get to know her better.”

  “She’s just a friend, Dad.”

  “I know,” he said. “And what’s wrong with your mother and I getting to know one of your friends?”

  I knew what he was doing. “She and I will never shack up together and have kids. When will you believe that?”

  He shrugged then sat down. “Just invite her, okay? Roland gets too competitive anyway.”

  “Like you aren’t,” I jabbed.

  He rested his fingers on his lips and smirked slightly. “So, you’ll ask her?”

  “I’m not even sure if she plays tennis.”

  “Even if she hasn’t it’s not that hard to figure out. She seems bright.”

  I pulled out my phone and texted her. You want to play tennis today?

  Odd request. But sure.

  My parents invited us.

  Okay. I’ll be there.

  She didn’t question my motive anymore. She already met my parents so she probably didn’t think it was odd. “She’s down.”

  “Cool,” he said. “I look forward to it.”

  “Yeah.” I waited for him to leave my office.

  “What’s new with you?” he asked, resting his ankle on the opposite knee.

  “Nothing really,” I said. “I can’t stop thinking about that cake Slade had for the shower. Man, that was good.”

  He chuckled. “I didn’t have any. I can’t keep up this appearance by eating junk.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You’re practically a body builder. Live a little.”

  “I’ll give you some advice, son. If you’re lucky enough to settle down with a hot little thing like your mother—”

  I cringed. “Dad…”

  “You need to do something to keep her around. And I think looking my best at all times does the trick.”

  “Are you sure it’s not your money?” I jabbed.

  “Positive.”

  “I don’t know…” I liked teasing my dad.

  “Let’s just say we keep our romance PG around you guys…”

  I rolled my eyes. “Anyway…”

  “What’s new with you?” he repeated. “You never answered the question.”

  “Nothing,” I said. “Just been thinking of cake like a fatass.”

  He laughed. “You’re built like me so you’ll probably never be fat.”

  “Yeah, probably not.”

  “So…did Beatrice talk to you at that gala a while ago?”

  Now I knew what was going on. He’d been trying to get the dirt out of me. “She did, actually.”

  His eyes lightened in curiosity. “And what did she say?”

  “She asked how I was doing and stuff,” I said. “Then she told me she still missed me.”

  He watched me passively.

  “I told her I had a girlfriend and to leave me alone.”

  “A girlfriend, huh?” He smirked victoriously.

  “I just said that so it would be simple,” I argued. “If I tried to explain my relationship to Beatrice I would have been there all night. And I didn’t want to give her false hope.”

  He turned serious. “You still have feelings for her?”

  “No. But I do care about her—always.”

  “Is Lexie the jealous type?”

  “No,” I answered. “She didn’t seem to care. Beatrice called me the other night when I was with Lexie.”

  “She called you?” he asked in mild surprise. “What did she want?”

  “Make sure I was okay,” I said. “Because of the shooting.”

  He nodded. “I see…”

  “And then she said she still wanted me back…”

  “It sounds like she’s not going to give up.”

  It still didn’t make sense to me. “She wants me more now that we aren’t together. It’s like she only wants me when she can’t have me.”

  “Or she realized her mistake.”

  I eyed him suspiciously. “Do you want me to get back together with her?”

  He raised his hands in innocence. “I didn’t say that. I just hope you have new faith in the relationship you had with her. Clearly, she hurt you but she regrets it. Maybe that will give you a reason to give Lexie a real chance…that’s all I’m trying to say.”

  “No.” I wouldn’t change my mind about it. “I don’t care how sorry Beatrice is. She can’t erase the pain she caused. I never want to go through that again and I refuse to put myself in that situation. Lexie is the same way.”

  He touched his watch. “It sounds like you and Lexie are a lot alike…”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Stop trying to manipulate me.”

  “I’m not trying to manipulate you,” he argued. “I just don’t want you to make the same mistake Beatrice did—not appreciate what you have until it’s gone.” He rose from the chair then headed toward the door. “Have Lexie meet us here.” Then he walked out and shut the door behind him.

  Perhaps it wasn’t best that Dad and I were so close. Now he had the ability to get under my skin—and I didn’t like it.

  ***

  Lexie checked in with my secretary then walked into my office. She whistled loudly. “Wow…sleek office.” She looked around, wearing a white tennis skirt and a purple workout top.

  I eyed her legs because they were distracting. “Thanks.”

  Her hair was pulled into a high ponytail and I liked the way it showed off her slender neck. She had small curves everywhere I found innately attractive. I knew her body well but I still found something new to appreciate. “I like your skirt.” I rose from the chair and came around the desk.

  “You mean you like my legs.” There was a playful smirk on her lips, and her eyes stared at my expansive chest in my suit. There was a hint of desire radiating through them.

  “I love your legs.” My hands moved to her waist and then down to her ass. I lifted up her skirt and was disappointed to see there were shorts underneath. “What a tease…”

  “You think I’m going to wear a tiny skirt while we play tennis with your parents?”

  “A guy can hope.” I pulled her skirt down then returned my hands to her hips. Then I gave her a soft kiss on the lips, feeling warm by the distant touch. The chemistry we shared was electrifying. Perhaps that’s why the sex was so good. I pressed my forehead to hers and didn’t speak. The nice thing about Lexie was not having the need to say something all the time. We could just stare at each other without speaking at all. My hands moved up her back and felt her tiny waist and petite ribcage. I loved touching her, feeling her.

  She glanced at my desk and returned to me. “How about we defile that piece of beautiful wood?”

  I gave her a seductive smirk. “That sounds like a great idea. I haven’t broken it in yet.”

  “So, I would be your first?”

  “Yep.”

  “Ooh…now I’m more intrigued. I feel like Columbus
when he discovered America.”

  I chuckled. “I would love to but I have a feeling my dad will walk in here any second.”

  She pouted her lips. “Boo.”

  “I know.” I loved watching her face. I could do it forever. No matter what expression she made, she was beautiful.

  She grabbed my tie and played with it. “You’re going to play in this? You’ll look incredibly sexy but incredibly uncomfortable.”

  “I have a few sets of gym clothes here.”

  “Ooh…can I watch you change?”

  “You’re such a naughty girl.” I rubbed my nose against hers.

  “I know I am,” she said. “And I’m proud of it.”

  Now I really wanted to take her on my desk. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to bend her over with her ass facing me, or I wanted her on her back while her hips hung over the edge. Fuck, I wanted both.

  I gripped her lower back and sealed her mouth with mine, giving her a seductive kiss. My cock was hard and I wanted to be between her legs, to feel her tightness and warmth. I started to migrate her toward my desk when the door opened.

  “Conrad, you—” Dad stopped when he spotted us together. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t know you had company.”

  I dropped my hand and gave him an irritated look. “Try knocking sometime.”

  “Try locking your door,” he countered.

  Lexie remained graceful. “Hello, Mr. Preston. It’s nice to see you again.”

  Dad gave her a warm smile and hugged her. “Call me Mike. And I’m glad you could join us today.”

  “Whoa…” She returned his embrace awkwardly.

  “Sorry?” Dad asked. “Did I make you uncomfortable?”

  “No…” Her cheeks blushed. “You’re just…really hard.”

  Dad’s grin stretched wider than I’d ever seen. “Well, I work out pretty often…” He felt his bicep.

  I rolled my eyes because I couldn’t stop myself.

  “You’re very strong,” Lexie said. “You remind me of Conrad.”

  “I like her,” Dad said to me. “A lot.”

  My dad could have the biggest ego sometimes. “Well, I need to change. So get out.”

  Dad leaned toward Lexie. “He’s jealous I can beat him at arm-wrestling.”