Peachy Keen (15 page)

“You’re the one calling me a martyr, but I put
myself
in boxes?” My face was warm and I realized I’d raised my voice enough that Evan may have heard me in kitchen. I could hear my heart thumping in my ears. “I’m not keeping score with Danielle. And just so we’re clear, I realize that everything you just said has nothing to do with my reaction to Danielle’s future living arrangements and everything to do with the fact that you want to get in my pants again,” I spat.

I didn’t mean it. I just couldn’t wrap my head around how well he knew me after five days together. I couldn’t handle the way my heart equally loved and loathed Harrison peeking inside and deciphering me from the inside out. Harrison was quiet but the sound of my thundering heart coupled with the rush of my blood filled my ears. My free hand had clenched into a fist and my molars clamped down on the inside of one cheek.

“You’re right. It’s not about Danielle moving out. It’s not about my opinion on how your friendship with her operates. But a man wanting you and wanting the best for you aren’t the same thing at all…just so we’re clear.”

My lips parted and my jaw released the tender flesh of the inside of my cheek when I sucked in a breath. “I gotta go,” I breathed.

Harrison sneered. “Yeah, it figures.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I snapped.

“Nothing.”

“No, say what you want to say. I can take it, I’m a big girl.”

“Oh, okay, I’ll add that to your list then. You say you’re a
slut, the most indebted friend of all time, a big girl
—and don’t forget
peachy.
Yeah, Georgia’s always peachy fucking keen, not a goddamn care in the world. Bull. Shit. You use these lame excuses for denying yourself the things you want but you’re just hiding behind the ten percent girl—the tiny part of you that’s afraid. You’re completely unfair to yourself but if you make sure you tell yourself that it’s all fucking peachy, you can sleep at night, huh?”

I held the phone away from my mouth and wiped the few tears that had spilled down my cheeks listening to him berate me. I swallowed the quiver and firmed up my lungs to keep my voice from cracking. This wasn’t how relationships started, was it? The tone in his voice and the anger behind his words were perfect ingredients for an ending. Fine. I’d pushed that laundry to the bottom of my hamper for a reason. I was never there, I didn’t know him, and that was okay. I needed to be okay with that before I saw him again.

Another sob pushed at the back of my throat when I realized I’d just done exactly what he accused me of doing.

“Fuck you, Harrison,” I said as I hung up, letting the wave of humiliation crash down on me.

15.

Make Me Lose Control

Georgia

Sitting in the back of the limo Evan had arranged for us, I scrolled through the text messages Harrison had sent me over the last two weeks. I bit my tongue to keep my eyes from welling up the way they had when I’d read each one the first time.

Harrison: Please talk to me. I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry.

Harrison: Can I call you? I’m an asshole. I want to apologize.

Harrison: I miss you.

Harrison: Are you still coming to the party? I need to see you.

Harrison: Please don’t bail on tonight. There’s so much I need to say to you. Please.

“Are you okay?” Danielle’s voice pulled my eyes from the screen and I quickly shoved my phone into my black sparkly clutch.

“Yeah, why?” I replied around a stealthy sigh. Her blue eyes narrowed on me from the opposite end of the spacious limousine. We were both red carpet ready: hair done, made up, and covered in brand new dresses.

“You’ve been weird lately. Ever since you got home,” Dani said. “You haven’t gone out at all and as far as I know you haven’t had anyone over to the apartment…”

“So what? You feel bad for me? We can’t all be fucking a movie star every weekend.”

She reared back as though I’d slapped her and when the limo slowed at a stoplight, she climbed to my bench and held me with a concerned gaze. “What’s going on, sweetie?” she pressed.

The same venom that laced my words to Harrison seeped into my mouth as I hastily replied to Danielle. “I’m not getting laid, that’s what’s going on. Jesus, you don’t have to alert the media that I’m having a dry spell. Sex isn’t the only thing in my life, you know.”

Her hand covered mine before my biting retort was out and I breathed deeply. The entire day I’d been anxious. I wanted to see him so badly and yet I didn’t want to look him in the eye. I missed the sound of his voice despite the last thing he’d said to me. The thought of shaking his hand in front of Evan and Danielle, pretending to meet him for the very first time, made my insides tremble with some suspended mixture of thrill and dread.

I’d never talked to Danielle this way before. But ever since Harrison called me out for the way I compartmentalized and placated myself for other people—for the rest of the world—I’d done my best to stop it. I was pushing back at work, letting booty calls go unanswered, and now I was snapping at my best friend instead of acting like everything was…peachy.

“Do you think I think that about you?” Danielle asked. “Do you think I judge you for your relationships?” The worry in her voice sliced right through me.

“No, Mama,” I sighed.

“Because I don’t care if you sleep with someone or if you date someone or fall in love or get married or get divorced,” she said with a breath of a laugh. “Georgia, I don’t care if you keep a guy in a cage in your closet so long as it’s consensual and it makes you happy.”

I felt my eyes sting with tears as I cracked a smile at her, hoping she wouldn’t catch my emotional reaction.

“I just want you to be happy,” Dani said firmly. “The definition of that is up to you.”

***

I locked eyes on Harrison as I stepped off the elevator into Evan’s penthouse apartment, where the party was already in full swing. He was dressed in a dark gray button down shirt and tailored black slacks. One corner of his mouth lifted when he saw me but I camouflaged my smile, shining it at Evan instead of Harrison as they approached us.

“There’s my girls,” Evan said, taking our coats and overnight bags, tucking them quickly in a nearby closet before slinging one arm over Dani’s shoulder.

“Easy, Weston. I’m no one’s girl,” I blurted.

I saw Harrison’s expression fall and my stomach knotted.

“Georgia, this is Harrison, the man of the hour. Harrison, Danielle’s best friend, Georgia,” Evan said, gesturing between us all while keeping Dani close at his side.

I’d been waiting for this moment. His hand extended to me and I took it easily. The heat that rippled through me as our gazes collided filled me yet again with the swirling concoction of thrill and dread—excitement and agony. I forgot how much I loved the feeling of his skin on mine. I felt his thumb sweep tenderly over the back of my hand though our palms only touched for a moment.

“It’s really nice to meet you,” Harrison said softly.

“Happy birthday,” I breathed.

“Come on, Sassy, there’s a million people I want to show you off to,” Evan said, leading a giggling Danielle further into the luxurious apartment.

“Georgia,” she hollered, turning back to me for a second. “You coming?”

I swallowed hard and glanced up at Harrison again. “No, I’m gonna get a drink and rub elbows. You have fun.”

That was all it took to send the lovebirds on their way, leaving the two of us—strangers as far as anyone else knew—alone.

“Can we talk?” Harrison asked quietly.

Clearing my throat, I shook my head. What could we possibly say to each other? How would I be able to stand next to him without pulling him to me desperately? I made my way to the bar I’d spotted a moment ago, not looking back, though it pained me. After ordering my Cosmopolitan, my eyes swept the room. I saw famous faces, a whole mess of the beautiful people I’d always found myself mesmerized by, but the only person I cared to watch was Harrison. Shaking the deep need I had to stare at him from afar, I began a self-guided tour of Evan’s apartment. It was hard to imagine my sweet little Danielle living it up here on the weekends. Her life had changed so much.

I strolled through Evan’s immaculate kitchen, peeped in the guest bathroom—including the medicine cabinet—and then found a hallway which had to lead to Evan’s bedroom. I only wanted a glimpse; I wasn’t going to be creepy about it. As my feet led me across the open living room filled with people, I finally saw Harrison again, though his back was to me. I’d recognize those broad shoulders anywhere. He was staring down at a petite brunette who had her hands on her hips. My mouth watered with the revolting feeling of sickness creeping up through me. She pointed at him accusingly then talked wildly with her hands before she peered around him, catching my eye. I inhaled and averted my eyes from whatever scene I’d been spying on and hustled toward the hall.

Out of sight and nearly out of earshot of the party music, my heels stopped clicking on the hardwood floor when I came to a long table at the end of the hall capped on either side by doors that led to rooms I assumed were off limits. Framed photographs covered the long buffet table and a large mirror hung on the wall above it. I let my fingers walk along the tabletop as I scanned the pictures. A few of Evan and Danielle were up front, then one of Evan and the woman I assumed was his late mother. There was Evan alongside the fellow stars of
Retaliation.
My lips spread into a smile and I sighed audibly at the next photograph in line.
 

I picked up the silver frame and gazed at the two young men posing in front of the Eiffel Tower. Evan was pointing back at it with a mock-astonished look while a clean-shaven Harrison grinned beside him. When I glanced back at the table, more photos of the two best friends jumped out at me. My hand reached for another more recent snap when I heard someone approaching. I lifted my eyes to the mirror above the table, my shoulders falling at the sight of him.

I didn’t know what to say. I had a thousand things running through my head, from insults to inquiries. I wanted to know who the brunette was even though I knew I had no right to that information. I wanted to know if he’d ever mentioned our meeting to Evan. I wanted to erase our last conversation from both of our minds. I shamefully wanted to tell him I missed him and that I’d picked up a copy of
Great Expectations
the other day to quell the bit of nostalgia I felt for our time together.

Refusing to turn around for fear of the conversation I might start, I resumed looking at the assortment of photographs. I could feel him moving closer to my back. I released a breath when his hand easily found my hip and I nearly shuddered at the feeling of him dipping his head low enough to draw in the scent of my hair.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he said, his breath warm against my neck.

I steadied myself by placing a hand on the table before me, stiffening under his touch. “We should’ve never given in that last night. We fucked up. You accepted my decision to stop things between us. You said you’d respect my boundaries…”

The hand he’d placed on my hip rose and combed through the ends of my hair gently. I could feel his eyes on me in the mirror and when I looked up to meet his gaze through the glass, every ounce of longing for him multiplied in seconds.

“I lied.”

He barely moved an inch and his entire frame was flush with my back, letting me feel all of him against me. He towered over me, threatening to trap me beneath him—crumbling my judgment along with my will.

“I was lying when I said I’d leave you alone after one last kiss, too. From the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew I wouldn’t be able to leave you alone. If we’d never met there and tonight was that moment—the first time I’d get the chance to see you—I’d still feel the same way. There isn’t a chance in hell I could see your lips, your skin, that light you give off, and not want you the way I do. So whether it started at Desire or here tonight, there was never a chance of avoiding this feeling. I want you. I need you, Georgia,” he said, all while keeping my gaze.

I felt weak at his words and lowered my eyes to the hand I braced myself against the table with.

“I shouldn’t have said those things on the phone,” he started.

“Harrison—”

“No, listen to me,” he cut me off, turning me carefully, his hands on my waist. His touch compelled my body without a bit of resistance from my mind. Harrison’s caress had so easily molded me time and again. “I’m sorry. I was cruel and I didn’t mean to be. But I was angry and frustrated. I still am. Why can’t you see that we aren’t a bad thing? What’s the harm in giving us a chance? We’re good together and you know it.”

I gulped when his hand extended to me, his thumb stroking my cheek. I hated believing him so effortlessly, shutting my eyes to both hide his beautiful face from view and to feel his touch deeper in my soul.

“We could be great together.” His words were puffs of air against my temple, then my cheek, and finally the corner of my mouth just before his lips pressed against mine. I moaned into the kiss I’d been fantasizing about for days. My hands linked around his neck and held him closer to me, never wanting to let go. Passion had never come so easily to my senses as it did when I was with Harrison. He planted that passion within me and it bloomed more wildly every time our bodies touched.

His tongue invited mine to dance and a thin line of electricity linked my heart to the apex of my legs. I’d probably grown wet at the sight of him. If not then, the first sound of his voice entering my brain did it. His presence wielded power over me and I wanted nothing more than to surrender.

As though I’d said it out loud, Harrison lifted me, holding my body strongly to his, carrying me a few feet to the door to our left. My hazy eyes looked around and to my surprise, it wasn’t a bedroom but an office. Harrison’s office, most likely. He sat me on top of the large desk and wasted no time hiking my dress up so I could feel the cool wood through my panties. I gasped and our eyes met firmly.