Now and Again (23 page)

“I think you are, in your own way. And you want the same things most women do, only I can’t give you that.”

“What exactly do you think I want that you can’t give me?”

“You want a guy to be your wedding date. To take to your parents’ house. To show you affection. Love. To propose to you on a rooftop somewhere and cry when you accept. That’s not me.”

Layla was surprised when she nodded. She did want all that, and why not?

“You’re done with me, aren’t you?” she asked, blinking back tears. “Just say it, please. I need to hear you say it. We fucked and that was the finale for you, right?”

Ben stepped out of bed and looked down at her. “I don’t want to be done with you,” he said. “I want to keep seeing you, but I’ll never be able to give you what you really want.”

“You want to keep fucking me, you mean?” Hot tears spilled onto her cheeks.

“Layla.” He sighed deeply and looked down at his feet. “No. I don’t know, whatever you want to call it. I like what we’ve got, but it’s not gonna be enough for you.”

“Why the fuck did you do this to me?” she yelled. “Why? I was fine, Ben! I was perfectly fine! I didn’t want to get involved with you. I said no!” Her voice broke and Ben glanced at her but looked away again quickly.

“I don’t--”

She cut him off, anger easier than sadness. “No, you fucking listen! I was fine, and you charmed your way into my life. You got what you wanted – you fucked me. But you ruined me in the process! I don’t know how to go back to what I had before you!”

“I’m sorry,” he said, meeting her eyes solemnly. “I don’t know what else to say. I didn’t plan to fuck you at first, you just made it impossible not to. I do care about you, but I’m trying to be honest … I’ll never be your dream guy. I’m not the kind of guy you can take home to your parents.”

“Why not?” she demanded.

“I’m just not. Trust me.”

“Apparently I haven’t learned shit, because here I am again,” she said, shaking her head. “Just go.”

“Layla—”

“Get out!”

She stared at the wall ahead of her, willing herself not to turn around as he dressed and walked across the living room. The misery she felt when the door closed behind him went beyond tears. She crawled back into bed, numb. The pillow Ben had been laying on was still warm, and she pressed her face into it, hating herself for missing him already.

Chapter 13

When she opened her eyes, Layla looked at the side of the bed where Ben usually slept and dropped her head back to the pillow with a groan. Her sexy cop’s spot was strewn with used tissues and Butterfinger wrappers.

“Ugh.” She pressed her fingers against her temples, a headache brewing. It was Sunday morning, and she’d stayed in bed most of the day before. Her emergency chocolate stash was now wiped out.

She’d cried to a good friend from college over the phone for an hour yesterday, and felt better when Erica agreed with her. Her instinct was to call Emma, but she couldn’t make herself do it. The last thing she needed was her sister’s condescending pity.

Shoving the covers aside, she sat up. Layla Carson did not wallow and cry over a man. It was time to get up and go to the gym to work off the thousands of calories she’d eaten the day before. Hell, she might even meet a hot guy there.

But as soon as her feet hit the floor, she sank bank to the bed with a heavy sigh. She hated women who got this way over a man. The tears were gathering in her swollen, overworked eyes again, so she grabbed her phone and dialed Melanie’s number.

“Hey, girl,” Melanie said.

“Hi.” Layla sniffled.

“What’s wrong, baby girl?”

“Ben.” She could barely get his name out before the tears flowed again.

“Oh,” Melanie said sympathetically. “Did you fight?”

“More than that. It’s over.”

“I’m sorry. Want to talk about it?”

Layla sighed and pulled the covers back over herself. “He didn’t want to meet my parents.”

“And that was a deal breaker for you?”

“Yeah. I’m tired of being the illegitimate ho. I want a normal relationship.”

“I can understand that,” Melanie said. “You said you guys weren’t all that compatible anyway, with you both being the bossy type.”

“Yeah. But it was working pretty well. I wanted it to go somewhere.”

“Anything I can do?”

“No.” Layla wiped a tissue across her cheeks. “I just wanted to hear a friendly voice.”

“You’ll pull through this. You’re strong.”

“I know, but Ben . . . he gets me. He knows how to handle me. I’ve never met a man who complements me, but he does. When we’re together, I don’t feel like an aggressive bitch. I just feel like a woman who knows what she wants. And when he looks at me . . . I feel beautiful. In more than a tits and ass way.”

“Maybe you guys just need a little time to think things over. I’m sure he’ll call.”

“I’m not so sure, Melanie.”

“Do you need me to come over?”

“No. I’m gonna get up and go work out and get back to my usual routine. But thanks.”

“Okay. Call if you need me.”

They hung up, and Layla crawled back under the covers. She didn’t want Melanie or anyone else to know there was no way she could get out of bed until she absolutely had to.

No matter how she tried to force the images and sensations of Ben from her mind, they returned. Ben in his office, taking her breath away the first time she saw him. His blue eyes sparkling down at her as they danced. The feel of his lips claiming hers, igniting her desire for him. And their last conversation, when he told her he’d never be her dream guy.

For once, she couldn’t argue with him.

***

A wave of relief washed through Ben as he reached for his ringing cell phone on his desk.

“Hey, Bree.”

“Hi, I got your message. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“I can tell by your voice, Ben. Is it Layla?”

He sighed and shook his head. “We’re not seeing each other anymore.”

“What happened?”

“It just didn’t work out.”

Bree made the skeptical ‘hmm’ sound he knew well. “It didn’t work out because you wouldn’t let it?”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” He shifted in the chair at his desk.

“You know what it means.”

“Yeah, I guess maybe,” he said with an edge. “There’s nothing wrong with not wanting a serious relationship.”

“No, not at all. So I take it you’re happy with this decision?”

“I’m fine, yeah. It’s not like I don’t care about her, Bree. I do. I miss her. But I’m not her dream guy and this is just gonna save us both heartache down the road.”

“Cut the shit. Tell me what happened.”

His sister was a lot like Layla. To the point. “She wanted me to meet her parents.”

“Okay . . . and?”

“And – that’s it.” He pulled on the tie around his neck with aggravation. “I’m not the parent-meeting type.”

“What the hell is wrong with you? You dated her for over a month and she wanted you to meet her parents and you ended it with her over
that
?”

“Ending things was her decision.”

“Good for her.” Bree’s voice had risen, and Ben pulled the phone back from his ear a little. “She’ll find someone who’s willing to meet her family and not treat her like a dirty little secret.”

“What the fuck?” Ben’s voice rose now. “I wasn’t treating her that way! She’s met my friends from work. You’re supposed to be on my side, Bree. You’re making me feel worse instead of better.”

“I
am
on your side. If I was in the same country as you I’d kick you in the ass right now. I’ve never heard you nervous and excited about a woman except her. And she wants to introduce you to her family?”

The silence hung for a few seconds before Ben spoke. “You of all people know how I am about these things.”

“Yeah, I do. I get it. But still, you have to just let go and try at some point, like I did. I don’t want you to . . . miss out. And you shouldn’t want to, either. How are you feeling right now?”

“Like shit.”

Bree sighed. “At least you admit it. Love is a leap of faith, Ben. It’s not always easy or smooth or comfortable. Only you know if your feelings for Layla run deep enough to risk it.”

Ben’s office phone blinked with a call from his Deputy Chief. “I have to get this call, Bree. I’ll think about things. Thanks.”

“Stop being an asshole. Think about that.”

“I love you, too.”

***

Layla couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten home from work before dark. The clock on her dash said 5:05 when she pulled into an open spot in front of her apartment. At her firm, it was like only working a half day. But she was exhausted and felt a headache coming on.

She’d thrown herself into work over the past couple weeks, outworking all the other junior attorneys and most of the partners. Three days after their fight, Ben had texted an apology and asked if they could talk. She’d composed one pissed off reply after another, but never sent any of them.

It took blocking his number for her to stop crying several times a day. The first few days she missed him so much she didn’t think she could stand it any longer. She’d even gone out with Lane and considered hooking up with a guy who said she made him want to go jerk off in the bathroom. But then she remembered she had some dignity, so she went home and ate ice cream instead.

Prince didn’t greet her at the door for his walk, and Layla kicked off her heels with a sigh. He must be with Travis and Jill. Good. She didn’t feel like a walk anyway.

She was going to change into comfy clothes, take some aspirin and spend the evening watching a movie on the couch. Even dinner sounded like too much effort.

A muffled noise sounded from inside her coat closet, and Layla stopped in front of it, her brows furrowed. She opened the door and cocked her head when Prince got up from the wood floor of the closet and walked out. Had it been his cry she’d heard?

“How’d you get yourself in there, baby? Did Mommy leave it open this morning?”

Prince growled and walked into the bedroom. When Layla followed him, she stopped as soon as she made it through the doorway. Her long white curtains were billowing toward her, a breeze blowing them. Pieces of broken glass littered the floor beneath the curtain, and her chest tightened.

She almost didn’t want to see what Prince was barking at. Part of her wanted to turn and flee, at least try to make it to the front door. But she turned and locked eyes with Eric Hinshaw, who stood in her closet with a pair of her panties bunched in his hand.

“Eric?” She gaped at him. “What the fuck is going on?”

She hadn’t seen him in . . . almost a year. They’d gone out a couple times but it hadn’t been a love connection for her. He owned a gym and she’d been drawn in by his amazing body, but he was always brooding over something.

“I needed to be closer to you.” His ominous tone sent a chill down Layla’s spine. How was she going to get out of this?

“Well, you’re here now. We can talk if you want. In the living room?”

Where my phone is.

Eric scoffed. “You never wanted to talk to me all those times I called, why would you want to now? I thought we had a nice time together. Why didn’t you call me back?”

“Eric . . .” She tried to think fast, but it was hard with her heart pounding. “We did have a nice time. I’m sorry I didn’t call back.”

“You left me no choice but to start watching you.” He took a few steps toward her, and she tasted bile. “And I know you’re not so shy in front of the other guy. Where’s he at, anyway? The tall one? He’s been gone a couple weeks. Did you dump him, too?”

“Uh . . . we’re not seeing each other anymore, no.”

“I want what he had.” Eric’s eyes were dark and Layla sized him up as he approached. He was about six feet tall, his frame filled out with muscle. But it was his expression that scared her more than his physical advantage.

She stepped back, Prince moving to stand at her feet. “Let’s talk first.”

“Take your clothes off and get on the bed. You like being told what to do, right? It turns you on.”

“No!”

“I saw you with him. You liked it then.”

“That was different. I can’t do this right now. Let’s go have a drink and catch up first.”

She backed another step toward the door and Eric lunged, his hand closing tightly around her throat. Layla made a choking sound as he jerked her whole body forward. As soon as he let go, she sucked in a breath, but it was knocked out of her when he shoved her to the floor.

Though she didn’t have the breath for a full scream, she cried out as she struggled against him. She clawed, kicked and twisted herself beneath him. But he straddled her hips and pressed her to the floor, holding down her elbows.

Prince was barking and growling, the hair on his back standing up.

“Shut the fucking dog up,” Eric said. “I’ll hurt you if you don’t.”

“Prince, it’s okay, baby.” Her voice was frantic, filled with tears, and her dog knew she wasn’t okay. He latched on to Eric’s pant leg, growling as he shook it in his jaws.

Eric pushed Layla’s hands above her head and restrained them with one hand, using the other to fumble with the button on the suit pants she’d worn to work. It was a nightmare, and she wanted to fight, knew she should, but he was so much stronger. She was pushing her wrists against his hand as hard as she could, and they burned from the effort, but wouldn’t move.

At the sound of her pants ripping, the feeling of violation that flooded her was almost paralyzing. Tears escaped her eyes and she flailed beneath him desperately.

“Hold still,” he growled. The hand that wasn’t restraining her hands raised above her face, and when he made contact with her cheek, she cried out from the flash of pain.

Prince was still growling, and he sounded more vicious than a hound dog. His rumble stopped and Eric shot into the air.

“Fucking dog! He bit me!” He smacked Prince’s body across the room and Layla heard a loud thump, a wail, and then silence.

She reached up for Eric -- slapping, punching, and scratching. She was fueled by fury now. Somehow she worked herself from under him and crawled toward the door, but his hand wrapped around her ankle and pulled her back toward him.