Love Nouveau (23 page)

There is no sign of Rachel yet so I shoot her a text to let her know I’m here as I make my way over to the bar to order a gin and tonic. The bartender hands me my drink with a lazy, playful wink.

The world moves in slow motion when I turn around, and I find myself in the zero gravity hesitation of peace just before the roller coaster hurls you back toward the earth.

The first thing I hear is his laugh.

After so many late nights on the phone with him, I’d recognize it anywhere. It comes from deep within his belly as joy erupts from his soul.

My eyes follow the sound of his voice and zero in on him. A smile plays on my lips and my heart grows ten sizes in anticipation.

He’s here.

Phoenix is actually here. He came to surprise me and help me deal with my family and get me through all of this wedding bullshit! I couldn't ask for anything more in this moment. Now, more than ever, I’m certain he’s the one. He’s so thoughtful and selfless and unlike any guy I have ever wanted to be with.

As I begin to make my way over to him, I’m walking on clouds, floating through the air.

Until my crosshairs focus on his hand tenderly stroking the small of her back. A gesture so impossibly subtle and so fatally intimate that it brings me to a halt.

On the other end of his hand is a petite blonde thing in a seductive little red number. I can’t see her face, but you can tell by the way she carries herself that she is truly a sensational beauty. And even worse, she knows it.

The feeling of my heart collapsing in on itself is suffocating. I can’t breathe with the weight of this reality crushing down on my chest. My mind blanks, my insides twist, and my stomach bottoms out as I slam into the Earth’s surface from my walk in the clouds.

I want off of this ride.

Desperately.

I cannot believe what I’m seeing as I force my feet to continue moving toward him. Acid bubbles in my stomach, and anger takes over.

Phoenix throws his head back in laughter again, shaking the floor beneath me with each hearty bellow. Smiling, he tilts his head down to whisper something to the girl, and she bites her lip seductively, undressing him with her eyes. I feel like a voyeur spying on a private moment between two longtime lovers.

I’m halfway across the room when he locks my gaze. Those piercing eyes stop me in my tracks.

“Ivy,” Phoenix calls out to me. He says my name as if it’s a statement, but his face reads question and surprise. It is clear that he was not expecting to run into me this evening. We were not intended to cross paths today.

No, no, no.

This cannot be happening to me.

I quickly start to back away and trip over an ottoman in a sitting area by the grand windows. It’s evident that I look wasted as the contents of my drink have now ruined the silk of my bandage dress. Pushing myself to my feet, I grab my purse off the floor and run to the elevator bank.

My heart rips from my chest and flies down the hallway, far away from here. I do all that I can keep up the chase in its pursuit.

The pain of letting the wrong someone in is crushing. What’s worse is thinking you’ve let the
right
person in only to discover you’ve been played a fool.

I look over my shoulder and see him trying to catch up to me. He’s fast, but I’m faster as I pull myself away from this hell. I feel like Cinderella fleeing the ball. But in this fairytale, Prince Charming is a lying, two-timing sack of shit. In fact, this is no fairytale at all. It’s a nightmare.

By a stroke of luck, the doors open right as I approach and I crash into someone just as they are walking out into the party. I slip into the box and obsessively push the close button, forcing the doors shut, cursing them to close faster so I can escape.

Just as the doors are sealing their last final inches, I catch a panicked look on Rachel’s face as she calls out my name.

Shit!

How could I be so stupid?

I slam my fist against the elevator wall.

You would think plummeting toward the earth in a tiny elevator box would go by quickly. It doesn’t. I’m trapped in a cage that is defying the laws of gravity. Visions of Phoenix flash in my mind: his smile, his laughter, his whispers …
his date
. His beautiful, buxom, blonde date. His lies.

God, I am an idiot.

I stumble out of the building and onto Michigan Avenue before the sobs take over. Hopping out of my heels, I hail a taxi and slam the door shut before anyone has a chance to come after me.

“The corner of North and Wells please,” I say, trying to catch my breath, not even thinking about the destination. The cab driver gives me a stern nod and heads north, taking me away from my own personal hell.

I STARE UP AT THE weathered brass numbers on the door and take a deep breath before pounding it three times. This is where my gut told me to go.

Matt pulls the door back in surprise. I force my way through the threshold, falling into his arms and clutching the chest of his shirt. It’s soft. Familiar. An intoxicating combination of soap and sage. He wraps his arms around me tightly, smoothing my hair.

Instantly, I unravel at his touch. As I cry, he coos softly in my ear for several minutes, a feeble attempt to calm my stormy soul. There’s no need for words right now, only a yearning to lose myself, if only for a little while.

It’s hard to process everything I feel in this moment: self-loathing, curiosity, anger, sadness, hurt. The past few weeks I’ve fallen for every lie that Phoenix fed. He made me believe that I was special, that things in my life could be different,
would
be different. That in spite of distance, circumstances could never keep us apart. That distance would actually bring us closer together. Not in the physical sense, but rather connect our souls more strongly. That I was his.

But it was all a ruse.

I look up from my mascara-stained cheeks. Matt’s blue eyes incinerate me and for a moment, I hesitate. I sense he’s silently inviting me in, luring me to his mouth. Stretching up on the tips of my toes, I deftly press my lips against his. He turns cold, stone, and I slowly reacquaint my tongue with his mouth. Pushing back, I realize he’s resisting my advances.

Fuck.

Mortification takes over as the leading emotion in the drama that my life has become.

“I … I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come here.” I break free and race back to the door. It’s evident I can’t stay here. He’s probably moved on. The sensation of being unwanted guts me.

Matt grabs my hand quickly and yanks me back against his strong chest, pulling me further into the living room. “No. Stay.”

His voice is husky and his breath is hot against my neck. He looks confused. And eager. “I was going to meet up with some of the guys for a couple of drinks. But … change of plans …” he trails off with a shrug.

Silence passes between us, but novels are written inside our stare. Our history allows us to pick up right where we left off, even though nearly a year has gone by. Faithfulness was never our strong suit, but none of that matters when we’re together like this.

Matt grabs my face and kisses me roughly, frantically.

Full of haste.

Full of hatred.

Full of longing.

I’m desperate to erase Phoenix from my mind, and I know that being under Matt’s touch will allow me to disconnect from Phoenix and from myself. We treat this fleeting moment as if it will disappear without warning. Liquid peppermint rolls off his tongue as I inhale it deep into the back of my throat. A tingling sensation burning smooth like alcohol, races through my insides and pools in the depths of my belly. His fingertips squeeze their way down my body, digging in my hips, leaving red hot indentations.

Matt kicks the door shut with his foot and guides me into his living room. Easing me down onto the couch, the weight of his body blankets me before pulling back. He looks into my eyes, teasing a glimpse of sincerity as he thumbs away the trail of tears on my face. His five o’clock shadow scratches my cheeks as he traces his nose against my jawline. His breath is sticky hot against my neck. My nerves are on end, live wires charging his touch with electricity.

Gradually, he picks up the pace and his hands pull furiously at my arms as he searches for a way into my dress. All evidence of tenderness now gone, he is much rougher in this moment than he ever was when we dated.

He is eager to possess me again.

And I am eager to let him.

Eager to forget.

Matt’s touch is nothing like what I imagined Phoenix’s would be like. Phoenix would take his time, tasting me slowly, being deliberate and thoughtful with each brush of skin. Matt is hurried for his fix. And frankly, I’m desperate for him to hurry up and erase the pain from my memory. I push Phoenix’s specter to the back of my mind and clench the belt loops on Matt’s jeans.

My fingers fumble with his belt and a long groan escapes his mouth as my hand brushes up against his length. Matt was always eager and willing.
Good to see some things never change.

The button on his jeans is impossible. Matt takes his hands off of me to rip his pants off in a hurry. Our clothes are obstacles, standing in the way of what we want. I need his skin on mine.
I need his escape.
I need it more than I need oxygen.

If only for a little while.

Like this—a mass of furious limbs driven by desire—we were always good together. And this moment proves we still are.

Matt pulls his shirt up over his head in one swift move. His body is the same as it ever was: carved, lickable, and soft and firm in all the right places. I trace my fingers over his chest, examining a new tattoo just below his collarbone. It’s a keyhole in the center of an antique skull and cross bone. Hauntingly beautiful.

I rattle my head. Sex first. Questions later.

Urgently, Matt pushes my dress up around my waist and I feel his nails squeeze the inside of my thighs. Trailing his tongue up my leg, he nips his teeth on the outside of my panties, the elastic snapping my hips with a sharp, pleasurable sting. I squeal in surprise or anticipation of what’s to come, I’m not sure which.

Eagerly, he rips my underwear down off of my legs and pushes two fingers deep inside to find me wet and ready to go. I buck my hips hungrily to meet him as he gives me a wicked, knowing smile. His eyes meet mine as he lowers his mouth to the heat between my legs and teasingly sucks on my clit, nipping it with his teeth. I throw my head back, forgetting my own name.

“I need you inside of me. Now,” I command.

He sits up and pulls his wallet from his pants on the floor, grabbing a condom. I fight the urge to tell him no, he doesn’t need to use one because I’m pathetically desperate to feel him inside me and erase everything. But even in my foggiest of mindsets, I’m not that stupid.

I take the foil from his fingers and peel back the wrapper, taking control of the situation. His head dips back, exposing his long neck as I roll the condom down his firm length. Matt whispers obscenities under his breath as his eyes roll back into his head. I take in the sight of him as desire pulls my insides.

He guides himself to my opening and presses himself inside with a throaty moan. It has been nearly a year since he was last inside my body, but he still stretches me, filling me to perfection. Hurriedly, he begins to thrust himself in and out my body and I can feel the thrumming of my heartbeat echoing inside my ears as I roll my head back. A gasp escapes my lips as his roughness takes me by surprise.

Suddenly, Matt stops and hovers above me. His angry face stares down at mine and I can read the mixed emotions in his stare. “I knew you’d come to your senses,” he seethes. “I’ve been waiting too fucking long for you to come back to me.” He slowly withdraws himself before violently plunging back into me over and over. I close my eyes at his words and know that this is wrong, that I shouldn’t be here. In my mind I see Phoenix’s face.

I feel nothing.

I feel everything.

I feel …

I feel like I’m going to be sick.

Frantically, I push Matt off of me and race to the bathroom, grabbing the toilet before unleashing the contents of my stomach. With each heave, acid burns me from the inside out. It is as if my subconscious knew exactly what I was doing and intervened to expel the demons I’ve been harboring within.

“What the fuck, Ivy?” Matt says. He hangs his naked body from the doorframe and glares at me with his eyes full of enmity.

I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and give Matt the side eye. My world has just flipped onto its side and he’s pissed about blue balls. This asshole is incapable of change. I couldn’t care less if he has to screw a box of tissues tonight.

“Just go and get me some fucking water, Matt.”

He wrings his hands through his hair in exasperation before disappearing down the hall. I listen to the echo of his heavy, pissed-off footsteps. My insides are on fire as my body cramps in misery. Matt slams a glass of water on the floor next to me, and I watch it slosh over the slide, making a mess on the cold tile beneath me.

“Pull yourself together and I’ll drive you home.” The anger in his tone is intimidating.