Concealed - A Hiding From Love Novel #2 (2 page)

I swallow, my breath coming faster the closer he gets.

He reaches me and stands almost flush against me from head to toe, his arms at his sides. I should step back, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to let him know how uncomfortable he is making me. His voice is deep and heated, and I feel it low in my core, where it circles around places it shouldn’t.

“If it’s over, then you won’t mind if I do this, because it won’t mean a damn thing.” He leans down and brushes his lips across mine. I moan softly, unable to control the involuntary reaction to the sexiest man I’ve ever known.

His lips return, pressing more firmly this time, his tongue sliding out to lick my top lip, then my bottom one. I feel his hand come up behind my head as he digs his fingers into my hair and pulls me closer. My mouth opens to him and his tongue slides inside like temptation into a sinner.

As I melt into his hold on me, my gut burning to touch him everywhere, a door slams outside and I start, pulling away. My eyes fly open as I realize what I’ve done. He has that look on his face that I hate. The one that says, “I can melt your panties any damn time I want.” In that moment I hate him, hate what he can make me do. Before I know what I’m doing, I bring my hand up and send it flying across his face with a loud smack.

He stands and stares at me for a minute, and I see something that looks a lot like hurt cross his face, making me regret what I’ve done almost before I’ve done it. But then he recovers and the cocky smirk returns.

“That’s what I thought,” he snarls at me. “This,” – he gestures between the two of us – “is nowhere near done. And I’m not going anywhere,
babe
, so when you’re done denying it, give me a call. I sent you my number plenty of times. I’m sure you’ve got it stashed away somewhere. I’ll be in town indefinitely.”

With that, he strolls out the door. I have a vase in my hand before he’s even cleared the opening, but the shattering sound it makes as it hits the door is no more satisfying than kissing him was.

Gabe

De buenas intenciones está empedrado el camino al infierno.

The road to hell is paved with good intentions.

W
ELL
that went fucking great. After two years of trying to forget the only woman I’ve ever fallen for, I chased her down halfway around the world, barged in on her and the boyfriend, did all the things I know she hates, and thoroughly pissed her off. I hear the ceramics hit the door after I close it, the noise of shattering mimicking the pieces of my broken ego.

She fucking hit me. And damn if it didn’t hurt. My heart and my pride, if not my tough jaw. For the first time since I decided to make this trip, I wonder if it was a mistake.

Alexis and I met in Afghanistan when I was a soldier and she was a UN volunteer doing humanitarian work. I was assigned to be her official escort during her month-long stay, and initially she hated me. Sort of like today. But after spending several days locked up together in a cave while Taliban insurgents had snipers stationed all around us, we got to know each other better. I was well aware she had a boyfriend, but I’d been lusting after her for two weeks before we got trapped, and when faced with my mortality and hers, I couldn’t be the good guy. I took every advantage offered to me and had spectacular sex with her. What I hadn’t counted on was that I was going to fall in love too.

I reach the parking lot outside her building and swing a leg over my bike. A month ago, I dropped out of college then flew from Hawaii to California, where my mother lives. I bought a used Harley and an old pickup truck, sold everything I could, and got ahold of a buddy of mine from the service whose cousin owns a garage in Austin. I’m going to start as a mechanic tomorrow morning, and now I need to find a better place to live than the cheap motel I’m staying in near the University of Texas campus.

The engine of the bike roars to life, startling everyone within a half block. I laugh to myself as I slide my aviators on my face. Me on this bike is a strong statement and thus, the reason why I ride it. I love nothing more than fulfilling the stereotypes Alexis has of me.

I’m slowly rolling out of the parking lot when Marky Mark comes cruising by in his little Nissan Leaf. Of course. An electric car. Pussy. I wonder if that’s the only reason she was ever interested in me. I’m the anti-Marco. His polar opposite – a walking, talking poster boy for sex, drugs, and rock and roll to his uber-hipster, socially conscious overachievement.

We glare at each other as we pass, and I vow that no matter what it takes I’m going to get her to listen to reason. I didn’t come four thousand miles to lose the woman of my dreams to fucking Marco and his Nissan Leaf.

I spend the rest of the day packing up and getting ready to move to my new place. It only takes one phone call to get the apartment I want, and I view it as a sign that the universe approves of my plans for getting Alexis back. I know she’ll be pissed at first, but in the end it’ll work out. It has to, because I’ve tried living without her for two years, and that shit isn’t going to cut it. I spent my last six months in Afghanistan hoping like hell there was some explanation for why the girl who’d promised to wait for me while I finished my tour hadn’t responded to any of my letters, emails, Skype messages, or even international fucking satellite phone calls.

When I arrived home in Sacramento after getting my discharge, the reality came crashing down. She wasn’t waiting for me at the airport. She hadn’t answered my emails with my flight plans. I’d been dumped. So I picked up my surfing shit, bought a one-way ticket to Hawaii, and devoted the next two years of my life to trying to forget Alexis and helping my best friend, Nick, get his life back from PTSD. In the end, Nick didn’t need me. He needed a curvy little blonde named Lyndsey, but all’s well that ends well.

With Nick and Lyndsey engaged, my major in school still undeclared, and the nights of meaningless sex becoming more and more repugnant, I knew it was time to make a change. The spitfire from Austin wouldn’t leave my head or my heart. I had to try one last time.

I wasn’t off to a great start, but when I saw her in domestic bliss with Marky Mark it hurt so fucking bad that I lashed out. It’s what I’ve always done. Let the anger course through me and come out of my mouth or my fists. It’s a really bad habit and I need to get it the fuck under control if I’m going to show Alexis the man I can be for her.

I go to bed in the tiny motel room thinking about how her skin felt when I touched her face. She hasn’t changed at all since Afghanistan, except for a certain sadness around her eyes. It’s selfish, but I hope maybe some of that is due to losing me from her life. God knows I’ve suffered enough. I can’t stand the idea that I meant so little to her that she’s never mourned me at all. Visions of her beautiful smile and satiny smooth skin flash through my mind as I fall asleep, imagining a day when she’ll look at me like she loves me again.

Alexis

No sólo de pan vive el hombre.

Man cannot live on bread alone.

“Y
OU
have
got
to be kidding me,” Marco snarls as he stomps back in my apartment. “
That
. Is the guy? That caveman? Jesus, Alexis. It was bad enough knowing you did it, but now I have to see that you did it with some sort of Harley-riding, muscle-pumping prick with tattoos?”

I cringe, so used to accepting Marco’s way of viewing the world that for a moment I forget Gabe might be those things on the outside. But deep down he’s generous and caring, and he loved me – of that I have no doubt. I feel my breath shudder as I try to inhale and maintain a steady voice.

“Look, I understand this is upsetting, but he’s gone now. He just had to, I don’t know, get some closure or something.” God, what a horrible liar I am.

“Closure.” Marco snorts. “He probably can’t even pronounce the word, much less understand the concept.”

I feel my hackles rise. I know I shouldn’t be defending the interloper to my damn boyfriend, but really.

I count to ten. “Marco, I don’t want to argue with you. I didn’t ask him to come, and he’s gone now. Don’t take it out on me.”

“Fine.” He stomps around some more, gathering up books and his sweatshirt. “I don’t want to fight either. Let’s just forget this happened and move on. I’ve got a ton of work to do at the library. You coming?”

My brain feels like it’s been knocked around inside my head, and my pulse rate has to be twice as high as normal. The thought of trying to study right now is overwhelming. I’m struggling not to flip out with this simple conversation. No way I can manage to sit in a silent library next to Marco for the next four hours and maintain my cool.

“Uh, no, I’m going to stay here. I’ve got some laundry to do and stuff. Dinner?”

“If I get enough done. I’ll call you.”

“Okay.” I lean up to give him the obligatory kiss on the cheek. Funny, it’s never felt obligatory until right now. He refuses to move toward me even an inch.

“See you later,” he mumbles without meeting my eyes. And then, he’s gone too.

For the first time in months, Marco doesn’t stay at my apartment overnight. He has roommates and I don’t, so we usually stay at my place. Not that we’re knocking boots all night most of the time. We’ve been together for four years, and I guess that part of our relationship has matured. Sex is nice. And weekly, not daily. Marco is finishing up his senior year undergrad and preparing to apply for law school, so he needs quiet and his two roommates don’t always provide that.

But late that night after Gabe showed up at my door, I lie in bed alone, talking to my older sister, Bethany, on the phone.

“Holy crap!” she hollers.

“Relax, Bethy. It’s not that big a deal.” I roll my eyes at her theatrics even though she can’t see me.

“It’s not a big deal?! A guy you knew for what, a month? Comes all the way from Hawaii just to see you after two years. How can you say that’s not a big deal?”

“How do you know he came to see me?” I ask as I file my fingernail, the phone sandwiched between my head and shoulder.