Touch & Go (18 page)

Ava was sick with guilt, heartbreak, and regret. Sam had been gone three hours already. After the first hour, she'd gone through the bag he dropped when they walked in. No phone or wallet she could find, so at least he had those. And since Drew had returned her bag, she had her phone clutched firmly in her fist as she sat next to the outlet charging the thing so when Sam called—
if
he called—she wouldn't have to worry about a dead battery getting in the way.

She regretted the words she'd said to him almost the minute they left her mouth. She'd never blamed him for not recognizing something she'd worked so hard to hide. Even that night they'd made love, she couldn't blame him for trusting her. For accepting what had been in front of his face his whole life and not questioning it.

So no, she didn't blame him. But now she could see there was a part of her that resented that easy acceptance. Probably the same part of her that had given in to the hope that maybe, just maybe, if Sam had a chance to see what it was like being with her, he would realize he wanted more too. That he wanted her. Everything.

But regardless, there was no denying one simple truth. She'd ruined something she valued above all else. And she'd hurt the man she loved more than any other.

She wasn't sure whether Sam recognized it yet, but there was no going back for them. As guilty as she felt, she deserved a family of her own. She needed to love someone who loved her back the same way. She wanted more than to be the glue that held her friends together. She wanted to be held as tightly as she was holding on.

And there was only one way she could ever hope to see that happen. She needed to let Sam go. Even if that sacrifice cost her the closeness she shared with Ford and Maggie.

There weren't enough sidewalks in San Diego for Sam to get his head together after what had just happened with Ava.

She loved him.

And not in the wholesome, buddy-buddy way he never should have pushed past.

Though according to Ava, they'd had a problem for a hell of a lot longer than that.

She'd been lying to him for twenty years, and by her own admission had gotten damn good at it.

Christ,
he was furious.

He couldn't think straight. Couldn't get his head around the duration of the betrayal, or how much it touched.

Was it fucking everything?

Was there some dark shadow behind every laugh? Some ulterior motive behind each hug? Had even one of the million precious moments he'd been holding safe in his heart been what he thought?

The sense of loss swamped him.

He felt cheated.

What he had with Ava was the most important part of his life. The one place he felt safe.

Because she'd been the one person who
never lied to him.
The one person who never let him down.

Only that's not who she actually was. She was a woman capable of deception on a grand scale. A woman who'd risked what they had for a lay. A woman who'd looked him in the eyes and promised him they were going to be okay—that even though she needed to leave for a while, she'd be back.

But that had been a lie too.

Following the sidewalk to its end, Sam looked up at the hotel he'd walked out of while the sun was still up.

He shouldn't go back. Not yet.

He wasn't in any better shape than he'd been in when he left, and he knew he wasn't being entirely rational about this.

Yeah, she'd lied to him, but she'd said it was to protect their friendship.

Damn it,
but then she'd gone and thrown that friendship away. She'd gone behind his back and gotten a job on the other side of the country.

He definitely should have kept walking, found another hotel or maybe even caught a flight back home. But instead, he was rolling through the lobby, giving the team at the front desk his most easygoing smile as he headed back to the elevator and rode the car up to her floor, not stopping until he was in front of her door.

He could still turn around.

She'd been so upset when he left. He could let her be.

Only then he was the one lying to himself, because he couldn't. He'd never been able to let it go with Ava. No matter how big the blowup, he'd always come right back to fix it, because he couldn't stand the discord between them. Not even for a night.

A single knock and the door swung open.

She'd changed from the neat skirt and business-casual blouse she'd been wearing with that Drew guy and stood before him in a pair of almond leggings and a thin, oversized shirt that hung off of one shoulder. Her hair was up off her face in a knot, and while her tears had dried, the evidence of them remained in the red rims around her eyes and the few blotches of color still marring her pale skin.

Anger and concern warred within him, the need to pull her into his arms and hold tight going head to head with the need to shake her shoulders and roar.

His heart was slamming, the blood tearing through his body so every inch of him was hyped up and buzzing.

Remorse-filled eyes stared up at him. “I didn't know if you'd be back.”

“It probably wasn't a good idea.” Not when he was still so raw. So angry.

Not when he was looking at the woman who had been his best friend for as long as he could remember, and all he wanted was to take something away from her, the way she'd taken something from him.

He was a bastard for even thinking it. But
goddamn,
he hurt.

Hands caught together at her waist, she asked, “What are you thinking?”

“That I feel cheated.” The answer was there without a conscious thought or filter. Because
he
gave Ava the truth.

“
Cheated?
Sam, I kept this from you because I didn't want to lose you. But I wasn't lying about anything else.”

“You told me you were coming back.”

She licked her lips, the unconscious motion catching his attention. “I thought I would be. I swear to you.”

He let out a humorless laugh, even though deep down he knew she was telling the truth.

“That night, Ava, when we made love. It meant something to me. I felt closer to you than I'd ever felt to another woman. I thought it was the most honest, pure moment of my life.”

“Sam,” she started, but he wasn't done.

“And now it means
nothing.
”

“I'm sorry,” she whispered, her lips trembling.

“I don't want
sorry,
Ava. I want
something real.
”

She blinked up at him, the sorrow in her eyes edged with confusion and hurt. “What are you talking about? Everything between us is
real.
I had a secret, yes. But that doesn't change what we've been through.”

Only it did.

“You've been hiding pieces of the truth from me. I've given you everything I have, Ava. And you've been cherry-picking what emotions and what truths you were going to share. And for once, I want to see it all. I want the whole truth. I want
all
of you.”

“All of me?” she asked, but her eyes had already locked onto his hands as they worked open his belt.

He was nuts, but he couldn't stop.

“I want that night, Ava. Only this time I want it to be
fucking real.
”

“You're out of your flipping mind,” Ava gasped, taking a step back from Sam's insanity in action. From where he had a hold of his belt buckle and was pulling it free from his jeans and dropping it on the ground beside him.

“You got that right.” Then, reaching over his shoulder, he grabbed a handful of the back of his shirt.

“Sam, I'm serious. What you're doing doesn't make sense. Leave your shirt—”

He jerked it over his head.

“You said you wanted your chance. You
couldn't resist.
Well,” he scrubbed a hand through his hair, leaving it standing in a tumbled mess of golden spikes.
Sexy
golden spikes. “Here it is, Ave. Risk free, because I'm pretty sure we couldn't fuck things up more if we tried.”

This was bad, very bad.

Because she was angry and hurt and sorry and about a million too many things for her brain to be able to process all at once. And more than all that, she was still in love with the half-naked man glaring across the room at her.

“This is a mistake, Sam.”

The top button on his fly popped beneath his fingers. “That doesn't sound like a ‘no.' ”

He was right. She
couldn't
say no to him.

Even with everything happening between them, she couldn't tear her eyes away from the bronzed, bare skin of his chest. The solid mas of his shoulders and arms, the banded muscles across his abdomen, and the narrow trail of crisp, golden hair that speared downward into that widening vee of denim.

“Come on, Ava, this is what you wanted, right? This is what was worth more to you than our friendship. So what's the problem?”

Her heart started to pound. “I told you, Sam, if I'd thought for one minute we'd end up here, I'd never have risked our friendship. Do you seriously think I liked keeping this kind of secret?”

He shrugged one solid shoulder.

“I think some people like holding on to secrets. Fuck, some people get off on them.” He toed off one shoe and then the other, his focus coasting over the curves of her body, touching on all the spots he'd used to drive her crazy.

“Is that you, Ava? Did you get off on the lies, the promises you broke before the words had even left your mouth? Or maybe it was the risk itself. Was that it? Must've been some fucking rush to have you screaming the way you did.”

“You know that's not true.” Her fists were clenching at her side, her heart hammering against her ribs. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because it's the only way I'm going to know if it was me who got you off or some fucking lie. It's the only way I'll know what's true and what's not, since I sure as shit can't take your word for it.”

“You make me sick,” she hissed.

“I make you
wet,
” he countered, the all-too-cocky smile on his lips twisted with an anger and bitterness she'd never seen in him before.

And then he was closing the distance between them, walking into her space like she'd invited him. Sucking up the oxygen and supercharging the molecules in the air around her.

He didn't stop until he was so close she had to look up to see his face, so close she could feel the heat coming off his skin.

It was making her dizzy.

Damn him,
it was making her—

“Mad as you are, I do, don't I?” His voice dropped to a knowing, seductive whisper that teased through the strands of her hair, making her aware of every nerve. “Tell me you aren't wet for me this very minute, Ava.
Lie to me some more.
”

With those last words, a switch flipped inside her and all she could think was:
Screw him.

Her hands landed on the solid-packed muscles of his chest and she shoved him back a step.

Yes, she wanted Sam.

She'd always wanted him, and no matter how far away she ran or how much distance or time she put between them, she imagined she always would.

But enough was enough.

“You want the truth, Sam?” Her fingers curled into the loose fabric of her top and she yanked it overhead, balled it up, and fired it into Sam's somehow surprised face.

Ha,
now who wasn't being honest? He shouldn't have started this game if he wasn't going to finish it. If he didn't want what he was asking for.

“It's all I've ever wanted from you, Ava!”

Her thumbs hooked into the waistband of her leggings and she shoved them off. “Well here's the unvarnished whole of it: being in love with you
sucks,
Sam!”

Sam met her declaration with a curt laugh. “Is that right?”

Wadding up her pants, she hurled them at his feet. “Yeah, that's right. And here's why. I
know
I deserve better than you.”

Sam's jeans hit the floor. “I used to think so.”

Jackass.

“I deserve a guy who won't make me watch while he cues up the entire female population of Illinois to stick his dick into.”

“Come on now, Ava. We're telling the truth here”—her bra hit him in the face—“and you know I leave the married girls alone.”

“I deserve better than to spend twenty years with no one to talk to, no one to cry to, because I wouldn't risk what that information could do to
your
relationships.”

He blinked at that, his chin pulling back, but she wasn't done.

“I deserve better than a guy who after twenty years can't see why we'd be perfect together.”

He was staring at her breasts, the muscles along his throat moving up and down as he swallowed. Took a step toward her. “And I deserve a
friend
who means it when she swears what we have is enough.” The white boxer briefs went the way of the jeans, ending up somewhere behind him. “Who understands and accepts that I'm giving her the best
I fucking have to give.
”

He was naked. Hard.

And stalking toward her.

Her shoulders met smooth plaster before she realized she'd begun to retreat, but then there was no place left to go, and Sam was reaching for her, his rough hands closing around her hips as he leaned in, pressing her against the wall.

“I deserve a better—”

Sam's mouth came down on hers in a bruising crush, as unforgiving and irresistible as the man kissing her. Hot and demanding, his tongue pushed between her lips, taking before she had the chance to give and turning her body molten with instant burning need.

Catching her by the backs of the legs, he pulled her thighs to either side of his hips and rocked mercilessly into the place she wanted him most.

God, yes.

It was crazy, what they were doing. Wrong.

But she was past caring.

As Sam had said, they couldn't fuck this up more than they already had. And he wanted this.

Same as her.

Another spearing thrust of his tongue and she opened wider to his brutal kiss, threw her arms around his neck and held tight.

Sam groaned, his fingers sinking into her flesh.

Good,
if this was the last of what they were going to have, she wanted the evidence of it on her body for as long as it could last.

Fueled by anger as much as lust, she bit at Sam's lips, urging him on. Begging for more.

And then she had it.

The room swinging around her as Sam turned and pushed her down onto the bed.

“You want this, Ava?” he demanded, his eyes boring hot into hers.

“Yes,” she gasped as he moved between her legs.

Braced on one arm, he loomed over her. “Then I want everything. Starting now.”

Ava took a shuddering breath and nodded.

Everything slowed as a quiet slipped beneath the need.

Resting her hands at the sides of Sam's face, she stroked her thumbs across the hard-cut line of his jaw.

Then, her throat aching with the same emotion leaking from the corners of her eyes, she told him.

“I love you, Sam.”