The One Who Got Away (19 page)

Your friend, Sandy.

 

Taylor didn't even realize she was crying until a big fat drop landed on the keyboard. She wiped her cheek and closed the e-mail.

Sure, it was easy for Sandy, for her mom to tell her to go for it. It was all simple when you're sitting in the bleachers. She was on the ten-yard line, here, and the chances of her getting creamed were damn good.

The truth was, she'd already been as brave as she could be. Braver than she ever thought she could. She'd told Ben about her confusion, about him being her reason, she'd even confessed about Cade. What did everyone want from her? She wasn't a superheroine. She wasn't even Mediocre Heroine. She was just Taylor, who'd been hiding from the truth for years and years, who'd been living in her safe little world, never facing the facts about her heart.

All she had to do was get through two more days. Then she could go back home and do everything in her power to get on with it. Forget about Ben, and all he'd been with her.

Okay, so it wasn't possible to forget about him, but she could put it all in perspective. Go out and meet new people with new eyes. She didn't have to continue to live in purgatory. She could change her life, all by her lonesome.

Oh, God. Lonesome.

The tears welled again, and that wasn't okay. She headed back to the bathroom, afraid of what she'd see in the mirror. She would not be a crying fool when Ben came to get her. In fact, she wasn't going to let him see any part of her emotional baggage. He didn't
deserve that.

Ben had been nothing but a sweet pea the whole time they'd been here. All this was on her head. Her own damn fault.

Ben Bowman, aside from everything else, was a friend. A good friend. Someone who cared about her, who always would. She'd be a jerk to let that go because she couldn't have everything she wanted.

She worked some voodoo on her makeup, grateful that she wasn't a swollen mess. And just in time. The knock at the door came a few seconds after she'd powdered her nose. Pasting a big smile on her face, she opened the door to the man she would love forever.

Her heart shattered a wee bit more as she saw the bouquet of roses in his hand. He really was her dream guy. She simply wouldn't let it become a nightmare.

B
EN WAITED WHILE
T
AYLOR
filled the vase with water, and put it on the coffee table. He hadn't meant to make her cry. In fact, he'd wanted her to feel better.

“They're so beautiful,” she said, wiping her eyes. “I love roses.”

“They're not half as beautiful as you,” he said, folding her into his arms. He kissed her, grateful when she sank against him.

For a long moment, all he did was appreciate the taste of her, the feel of her. He'd made such a mess of things, and he wanted to make it right. Tonight, he'd take her to play pool. He'd already made sure he could get a table at Pink-ees. They'd play, have some laughs, and by tomorrow, all would be well.

She pulled back, looked at him with glistening eyes. “I'm sorry.”

“For what?”

“For being such a sap.”

“What are you talking about?”

She sniffed. “Nothing. Never mind.” She slipped away to get her purse. “I'm ready. Where are we going?”

“Well, remember you said you wanted to—”

“Wait.” Taylor put her purse down again. “Don't say anything, okay? Just let me tell you what I have to.”

“Sure.”

She shook her head. “Don't say anything.”

He almost spoke, but ended up nodding.

“Sit down.”

He obeyed.

She didn't join him. Instead, she walked halfway across the room. Turned to face him. Opened her mouth. Shut it again. Then turned away.

He wasn't sure what to do. But he went with keeping quiet.

She turned back. Her spine was straight as a stick, her head upright, her hands twisting in front of her. She looked as if she was facing a firing squad. “Okay, so here it is. The truth. And you don't have to do anything with it. You don't even have to respond. It's my problem, not yours, so don't feel like you owe me anything.”

He opened his mouth, but a hand raised sharply stopped him.

“If you interrupt, I won't be able to do this, so just sit there and listen. I've figured out some things these last few days. A lot of things. And trust me, it wasn't easy.”

She walked four steps, turned around, came back the same distance. Only looking at him briefly, then studying the carpet or the wall. “I told you about why I wanted to sleep with you. And how that didn't work out so well. I mean, it worked out great, but not for me, you know?” She shook her head. “No, it was
fantastic, better than wonderful… Oh, crap. I'm doing this all wrong.”

“It's okay.”

She glared at him, and he sank back on the couch.

After a deep breath, she started pacing again. “Bottom line. That's always good, right? The bottom line. Here it is. I love you.”

He opened his mouth. Shut it again. Shocked more by the surge of happiness that shot through him than by the words themselves.

“For real. I'm talking love. The kind that changes everything. The kind that makes you want to spend the rest of your life with a person. Only, I didn't just fall in love with you. I've always been in love with you. Since I was eighteen. Or before that. I'm not sure of the date, but it's been a really, really long time, and nothing has changed it. Not living thousands of miles away, not being apart for years at a time, not dating other men, nothing. It's you. It's always been you, and there's not a damn thing I can do about it. But I know you don't want a relationship, and I can accept that. I'll go home and I won't even bother you. I'm not sure how, but I'll get over this thing. Maybe now that I know what's really happening, I'll have a decent chance of moving on.”

“Can I say something?”

“No!”

He held up both hands. “Okay.”

“I just figured you had a right to know. And I couldn't leave here without telling you because, and here comes another bottom line. You're my friend, Ben, you've always been my friend. From the time I
made you teach me to slow dance. From the time I seduced you. From the moment I met you.”

She looked at him, a mixture of fascination and horror on her face. “Oh God! I didn't even see it. Until right this second. I've been the one… The whole time. It was me.”

“What was you?”

“I tagged after you. I was the one with the crush. I asked you to teach me to dance. Forced you, really. I was the one to show up on your doorstep, begging you to make love to me. It was always me, never you. You were sweet and kind and you never made me feel like I was pushy or obnoxious or anything. But you never made a move. Until I'd asked. Until I'd begged.”

Her hands went up to her face. “I'm such a moron. I never… Oh, God.”

He'd had enough. He got up, went to Taylor, and pulled her hands from her face. “You through?”

She nodded. Then shook her head. Then nodded again.

“Good, because now it's my turn.”

She closed her eyes.

“Look at me, Taylor.”

She opened her left eye.

“All the way.”

She did. Kind of. She squinted, though. It was good enough.

“I'm not in the least sorry that you asked me to teach you to dance. It's one of my favorite memories. Of course, it doesn't come close to the memory of the weekend we spent together, which, I figured,
came about because I'd been very, very good in a past life. I certainly didn't deserve it in this one.”

“Every single time you've entered my world, you've made it better. Infinitely better. This week has been a revelation. Do you know what I did yesterday?”

She shook her head, and as she did, her eyes widened, her mouth parted slightly, and her expression became rapt.

“You know how I make up lives? For other people, for myself? Remember James Bond? All that?”

She nodded.

“Well yesterday, that's exactly what I did. I made up a life. My life. And you were there. You lived with me in New York. You had a job. We had coffee together. You had the
Far Side
mug, by the way. And we kissed before I left for work. And I got to think about you while I was out on the streets, and I got to call you when it was lunchtime, and I got to stop and pick up milk on the way home. It was as if I'd never seen the city before. As if I'd never understood my work, my life. Because all through the day, you were there. You were waiting for me. You changed that utilitarian co-op into a home, and me into a whole person, a real person, with a reason and a purpose. And when I came home, you were there, and we talked about the day, and I couldn't wait to hear what had happened to you. How you'd finished a damn tort. And everything I'd done was interesting because you cared about it.

“The best damn part of all was that I got to spend the rest of the night with you. And the night after
that. In this universe I made up, you were there, for the good times and the bad. It changed everything. You changed everything.

“And you know what? I was a total jackass, sitting on that couch, making this wonderful scenario up in my head. Because I was too stupid, too afraid to take it out of pretend. To come right back to find you, to ask you— No, to beg you, to come to New York with me. To live with me in my stupid co-op. Because what I have now is nothing. It's a pretense of a life. A meaningless blur of days and nights that are so empty I can't see the bottom of them.

“All the time, you were here. Right here in front of me. I should have known it from the second I was inside you. I thought maybe it was the sex, isn't that a riot? That you had some magic when it came to making love. I think I mentioned I'm not very bright. Because if I'd had a brain, I would have seen that you and me, we're supposed to be together. But I didn't see. Until two minutes ago, when you said—”

She held up her hand once more to stop him. Took a very deep breath and let it go as the seconds ticked by. His heart beat so fast he thought maybe he was having one of those attacks that were so popular these days, but in truth, he just wanted her answer.

She smiled. “Okay,” she whispered.

“Okay?”

She nodded, as another batch of tears came sliding down her perfect cheeks.

“You mean, you'll come to New York?”

“Yes.”

“You'll take the
Far Side
mug?”

She laughed. “Yes.”

“Well, then,” he said. And then he kissed her.

One Year Later…

“Y
OU WANT MORE COFFEE
?”

Taylor shook her head. “I don't want to be late. I've got that Simmons brief to write and Dan is breathing down my neck.”

Ben poured himself another cup in his
Get Fuzzy
mug. He sat back down at the dining room table, his gaze settling on the small bouquet of football mums in the blue glass vase. Taylor's touch. There was so much of it now in the apartment, it felt as if he was living in a different place. A much better place. Ever since she'd moved here, his life had transformed into something he barely could have imagined. That one day, sitting in Las Vegas, on that leather couch, had been a clue, but he'd been incapable of visualizing how good it could get.

Who knew Taylor would love the city this much? That she'd find such a great job, only one subway stop away? More than that, how could he have guessed that having her in his life would change him from the inside out. He hadn't known this happiness before, not ever. Looking forward to her every day, making love to her, hearing her voice on the phone. It was better than he deserved by a long shot.

She was happy, too. He saw it in her smile, the way she carried herself, the joy in her voice when he walked in the door. This was the kind of love he'd read about, but never believed was real.

She stood up, looking so fine in her tan slim skirt and her white blouse. Nothing fancy, but her beauty made it spectacular. God, how he loved her.

“Okay, so what time will you be home tonight?” she asked.

“Nine, if I'm lucky.”

“Should I wait?”

“Naw. Eat. I'll be fine.”

She came over to his side of the table and kissed him. Instead of a peck, the kiss lingered, and he felt himself stir, as always. The woman did things to him. Every damn time.

“I've got to run.”

As she turned, he caught her hand. “Wait.”

She looked at him, brows raised.

“Didn't you tell me you were getting some time off from that job of yours?”

“Yep. My first vacation. A whole week. Why? Did you have something you wanted to do?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“Well?”

He pulled her around and lowered her onto his lap. “I was thinking we could go back to Vegas.”

He saw the disappointment in her eyes. She'd mentioned Hawaii, and he'd seen the brochures she'd hidden in her bedside drawer. “Oh,” she said. “You want to do Vegas again?”

“Well, I figure it would be pretty easy to convince Steve and Lisa to come back. And your mom, of course.”

She leaned back and looked at him as if he'd gone nuts. “What are you talking about?”

“From what I understand, they have pretty nice weddings out there.”

Her hand went to her chest. “Excuse me?”

He smiled, loving this. Loving her. “What do you say you make an honest man of me?”

“Get married?” Her voice had gone real high, real soft.

“If you'll have me.”

Her eyes closed for a long moment, and when she opened them again, they glistened with tears. “Oh, God, yes.”

“Whew,” he said. “I was afraid you were going to laugh in my face.”

She slugged him on the arm then wrapped her arms around his neck. “Never, never, never. I love you, you twit. I've always loved you.”

He pulled back, caressed her face with both hands and looked deep into her blue eyes. “Turns out, I love you, too. And I always will.”