Boy in Luv Read online

  Iker was mine. No one had ever affected me the way he had. No one had ever effortlessly made me feel so special and cherished.

  “Really, I’m fine,” I assured him. “It’s just odd to think that four years of hard work is finally over.”

  “I get that,” he said with a smile as dessert was served.

  I reveled in the satisfying crack of my spoon through the crystallized shell of the crème brûlée, then paused before even lifting the first bite. Was I seriously more excited about my dessert than the fact that Sam was here?

  Yes. And that was a problem.

  Who was I kidding? I knew exactly what the real problem was. Who my problem was.

  “Langley,” Camille called from down the table. When my eyes lifted to hers, she continued with a raised eyebrow. “Daddy just said that he saw Iker at graduation?”

  So much for keeping private the fact my world was once again off its axis.

  “Yes. He stopped by with his little brother.” I shoved my dessert in my mouth in hopes the questioning would end there.

  “So, he’s back?” she pushed.

  “It would appear so,” I answered, and ignored the questioning look Sam gave me.

  “So, are you…” Her gaze flickered between Sam and me.

  “The crème brûlée is delicious, Dad,” I blurted, then quickly turned all of my focus to the dish.

  “I’m so glad you like it, honey.”

  I wasn’t sure how I made it through the rest of dinner. I knew I made polite conversation, but I felt cleaved in two. While my brain was here, in the restaurant, my stupid, foolish, aching heart was wondering where Iker was now. When had he gotten back? How was he doing? Was his brother taking care of him? What was he doing? Was he dating anyone? Did it even matter?

  “You’re sure you’re okay?” Sam asked as he walked me to the parking lot outside the restaurant. “I know I keep asking, but I can’t help but think that you’re not.”

  Before I could answer, I heard Camille call my name, and turned to see her coming toward me.

  “Give me a second?” I asked Sam.

  “Of course,” he replied. “I’ll start the car.”

  Camille looked over my shoulder as she approached. “What are you going to do?”

  “About what?” I wrapped my arms around my middle to ward off the May breeze. I loved this little white lace skater dress, but it didn’t exactly protect me from a Colorado evening.

  “Are you serious?” Camille blatantly rolled her eyes at me.

  “We’re not talking about Iker.” Not now. Not ever.

  She cocked an eyebrow at me. “Fine. You don’t have to talk about the smoking hot soldier. I will, instead. I know you’re not fine. You were still a miserable mess when I got back from my honeymoon, and he’d only been gone for nearly a month then.”

  “Why do you even care, Camille?” While we weren’t at each other’s throats like we had been in the past, we also weren’t friends. I’d also made my peace with the fact we would never be sisters. Not really.

  “I don’t,” she protested, then sighed, rubbing the skin between her eyebrows. “Okay, that’s a lie. I do care a little. I’m really happy. You should get to be happy, and dating Mr. Iker-light over there with the burly beard isn’t making you happy.”

  “I’m happy,” I argued. What could she possibly know about my happiness, other than how to destroy it?

  She shook her head at me, then pulled her phone from her purse and scrolled until she found what she was looking for. “Here.” She turned her phone so I could see the screen.

  My heart slammed to life in my chest as I saw Iker dancing with me at her wedding. His arms were around my waist, and mine his neck, and though we danced on a crowded floor, we looked at each other as if we were the only ones in the universe.

  I tore my eyes away from the photo. I’d avoided looking at all of her wedding pictures for this exact reason. Pain cut me to the quick, not because of that moment, but as a warning to protect myself from what had followed.

  “This is happy,” she said softly. “That”—she motioned behind me, where I heard Sam start the car—“is making do. There’s a big difference.”

  “You’re right,” I agreed coolly. “Happy gets your heart broken. Let’s not forget the man who makes you so happy did so at my expense. I’m not up for a repeat.”

  I walked away from my stepsister and climbed into Sam’s SUV. The big electrician drove me home wrapped in a cocoon of heavy silence, as if sensing whatever possibility we’d once had, had died a swift and sudden death.

  “Thank you for coming tonight,” I told him as he pulled up to our building. “And for being there for me today.”

  “Of course. Do you want me to walk you up? Not that it’s a sketchy area of town or anything,” he half-heartedly teased with a tilt to his smile. He lived a few floors lower than I did in the complex, so the offer was sweet but overkill.

  “Not tonight. I’ll call you?” My hand was already on the door. If that wasn’t a metaphor for what was going on here, I didn’t know what was.

  “I’ll answer,” he said.

  I gave him a nod, then got out of the car and shut the door. I didn’t look back as I walked into my building. I took the elevator to the fifth floor. Normally, I would’ve taken the stairs, but all day in my favorite heels left my feet aching. I fished through my clutch to get to my keys as the elevator doors opened, and didn’t look up until I was already halfway down the hall. When I did, I stopped dead in my tracks.

  A man sat, leaning with his back against my door, his knees raised to his chest. Black hair escaped in the spaces between his fingers as he cradled his head, his elbows resting on his knees. I didn’t need him to look up to know it was Iker. Gone was the polite button-up shirt he’d worn to graduation. Now, he wore a gray Henley with pushed-up sleeves, exposing the ink on his arms. A memory flashed of the last time I’d had those arms around me, and I quickly shoved it away.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked him, my voice coming out soft instead of the harsh snap I’d been hoping for.

  His gaze jerked to mine, and his eyes, wide and bloodshot, still felt like a punch to the stomach. “Langley,” he said with a soft slur as he clambered to his feet. “I was waiting for you.”

  No, you weren’t. You left me without a word so that neither one of us could wait for the other. The bitter thought burned and left a sour taste in my mouth.

  “Why? How did you even know where I live?” I knew the answer before the question even left my mouth, and shook my head. “Gael. He asked for my address so he could keep me updated on his progress at school.”

  Iker raked his hand through his hair, the dark locks still looked soft and silky. “Don’t be mad. He’s a good kid. Just trying to help his brother out.”

  He stepped closer and my eyes drifted up. I’d almost forgotten how tall he was. How his size dwarfed mine and made me feel so very delicate.

  Breakable.

  “Are you drunk?” I answered in challenge.

  “Maybe.” He smiled, and my chest constricted. “Are you mad?”

  “Maybe.” The truth was, I didn’t know what I was. “Probably.”

  Standing this close to him, catching the combined scents of alcohol, his cologne, and the peppermints he loved, had me struggling to remember exactly when we were. All the time and space between us was so easy to forget when he was this close. This vital and alive. This real. “Why are you here?”

  “I wanted— I needed to see you.” He tucked his thumbs in the front pockets of his ripped jeans and I gripped my clutch and keys so hard they bit into the thin skin of my palms. The motion tugged the denim down low on his lean hips and exposed a hint of his insanely chiseled, and artfully tattooed, abs.

  It would be so easy to cross the inches that separated us. To rise on my toes, even higher than the heels I wore, and brush my lips against his. My body hummed with awareness at his nearness. I hadn’t been with anyone since him, but I doubte
d he could say the same. I wasn’t stupid. I’d been the less experienced one of the two of us, and I highly doubted the week he’d no doubt found inconsequential had done much to slow his rate of conquest. Guys like him didn’t change.

  Girls like me didn’t either…we were always going to have a soft spot for our first blinding, all-consuming, stupid first love.

  “God, Langley, I’m so sorry. So fucking sorry.” He stepped toward me and I retreated.

  “You said that. You know what you didn’t say? Goodbye.” It would have made all the difference.

  In my dreams, I’ll still be in that bed with you. The words from his letter hit me like a freight train, like they always did when I thought about him. How many times had I read that damn thing? Enough that the creases were soft from handling and the words were blurred from my fingers, yet crisp in my mind.

  “I know. I should have. I didn’t know how to tell you. How to leave you.” He took another step and I retreated again. I couldn’t chance him touching me. Apparently, the chemistry I thought I’d imagined was very real, and I couldn’t afford to let it overpower my common sense. It was weird how the things I thought were real, and the ones I’d convinced myself weren’t, had blurred together with time.

  “That’s funny, considering you managed to leave just fine.”

  His eyes sparked, and I knew I’d hit a nerve. “You’re right, I did. But I’m standing here right now. Don’t you feel anything?”

  Anger whipped through me, and this time, it was me stepping forward and him retreating. “Feel anything? Do I feel anything? Are you kidding me?” I felt so much. Too much. It was practically choking me.

  “Langley,” he pleaded, putting his hands out like he was under arrest, but the fire still raged in his eyes.

  “You have the nerve to show up at my graduation nine months after sneaking out of my bed, leaving me like a cheap, discarded rental tux, and then ask if I still feel anything?”

  You don’t belong in my world any more than I belong in yours. Yours would suffocate me, and mine would ruin you. Ruin and suffocation. That was how he saw us.

  “Hey, it looks like you were feeling things just fine with Beard-O at graduation,” he snapped.

  What the hell? Was the guy who had zero use for me actually jealous? He had no right to be. Not when he was the one who’d walked away, who hadn’t given me a chance to so much as wait for him. I hadn’t even been worthy of fucking waiting.

  “I feel plenty, Iker.” His back hit the wall next to my door, and I brought my body against his, blocking out every nerve that fired in absolute anticipation. I might have been pissed as hell at him, but my body remembered all too well what he could do, and was more than ready for an encore.

  Shit. My sex drive hadn’t been off because of school, or stress, or anything else. It had gone dormant because I only wanted Iker.

  Fuck my life. Fuck him and his stupid, smoldering sex appeal, perfect face, and amazing body. I wanted to hate him so badly, and instead hated myself because no matter how hard I tried to force it, I never managed to get all the way there.

  “Really? What exactly is plenty?” he asked, his gaze dropping to my lips before wetting his own.

  Hell no. I wasn’t falling into this trap again. Wasn’t handing myself over on a platter to have him tell me I wasn’t what he wanted or needed. He had no faith in me. He honestly believed I couldn’t survive his lifestyle and made it clear he blatantly hated mine. He didn’t get to be the one who decided what I could and couldn’t handle. He didn’t get to make me feel like I wasn’t good enough, or strong enough. I understood, I deserved more…he was the one who taught me that much-needed lesson.

  “I fell for you,” I whispered, letting my fists rest against his chest, keeping my clutch and keys between us like a barrier.

  His eyes flew wide, but I didn’t let myself stop to examine whatever emotion could be there. I couldn’t afford to care.

  “It took me one week to fall in love with you. It took me every single month that you’ve been gone to recover when you walked out. So, yeah, I feel plenty. But mostly”—I stepped back, my skin cooling immediately from the lack of his body heat—“I just feel over you. I feel like whatever we had, whatever we may have been, is gone.”

  He didn’t need to know there was no putting my heart back together when he left. He never needed to know he took the stupid thing with him when he walked out the door.

  The words trailed off, softer than I wanted them to be, but I stiffened my spine, refusing to be moved by the way he almost completely deflated in front of me. His dark eyes went downcast and his wide shoulders slumped. I took the opportunity to move around him, but I should’ve known better.

  A predator was even more dangerous when injured.

  Iker

  There was fear in Langley’s eyes.

  I recognized it clearly because it was the same expression she wore the night I saved her from a group of rowdy drunks outside a dive bar she had no business being in. Her blue eyes were twice their normal size, and she looked like she was ready to chew a hole through her bottom lip. Her entire body flinched when I reached out to grab her arm as she tried to slide around me. I heard her suck in a sharp breath and immediately let my hand fall without it touching her. I understood her anger and resentment, even through the fine haze of alcohol-driven bravery that brought me to her door. I could handle those feelings, but not the fear.

  I desperately wanted to believe she knew me well enough, even though we only spent a week together, to understand I would rather die than cause her any harm. Sighing, I shifted my weight, watching as she purposely put more space between us, now that it was clear I wasn’t going to touch her or force her to do anything.

  Gael tried to tell me approaching her after I’d spent the afternoon trying to drink her memory away was a terrible idea. I should’ve listened to the kid. After all, he was the smartest person I’d ever met. However, I couldn’t shake the image of her wrapped up in the bearded guy’s arms. I couldn’t forget the surprise and relief on her too-pretty face when she finally caught sight of me. I couldn’t convince myself to walk away again, even if it was what would be best for both of us.

  “Langley.” She paused, keys in the door as she looked over her shoulder in my direction. I could hear the desperation and pleading in my own voice. I’d never sounded so close to an emotional breaking point.

  Slowly, she turned to face me and I closed the distance between us. I didn’t touch her, but I stepped into her personal space, crowding her back against the still-locked apartment door. I braced a hand above her head and leaned down so we were eye to eye. Her breath caught and my blood burned as she lifted her palms to my chest and unsuccessfully tried to push me back. I felt her shiver, and it killed me not knowing if the reaction was spurred by fear or something else. She used to quiver whenever I was close because we were both fighting an attraction that was bigger than both of us. We couldn’t help but react to one another, or the urge to reach out and touch whenever we could.

  “I broke this. Now, I’m going to be the one to fix it.” A bold claim for sure, but I felt helpless to do anything else. I honestly felt like I couldn’t breathe under the weight of being so close to her, yet so far away. She’d fallen in love with me, but didn’t feel that way anymore.

  Langley scoffed and her hands fell away. She blinked her bright eyes as her golden eyebrows dipped down in a fierce frown. “You didn’t break it. You destroyed it. You took it away and smashed it into a million pieces, and didn’t give me a chance to save it or put it back together. There is no fixing it. You need to leave, Iker. You’re drunk, and we’re finished.” She tried to push me away again, but I leaned closer.

  I let the tip of my nose brush across her soft cheek, and inhaled her sweet, summery scent before allowing her to force me backward. I stumbled a step, shoving my hands in the front pocket of my jeans as Langley let out a relieved breath and turned to disappear into her apartment.

  Swearing under m
y breath, knowing good and well my surprise visit had hurt my case more than helped, I started to make my way back down to the parking lot so I could call an Uber and get a ride back to my own place. I was brought up short when a dark image separated from the other shadows surrounding the entrance to the stairwell. The big guy with the beard didn’t look any happier to see me than Langley did. His burly arms were crossed over his broad chest, and the glare on his face would’ve been enough to intimidate another man. I was too buzzed and caught up in my own emotional downward spiral to feel the obvious threat emanating from him.

  I lifted an eyebrow as he took a step in my direction. “Just leave her alone. She’s finally starting to put herself first and focus on her future. You have no right to show up out of the blue and undo all the work she put into putting herself back together after you left. She’s better off without you.”

  He wasn’t saying anything I hadn’t told myself a hundred times, but hearing it from a stranger, from a man who was free to touch and comfort the only girl I’d ever managed to care about, pissed me off and poked at a soft spot I didn’t even know I’d developed. I’d never been a particularly good guy, but I’d also never really been a bad guy either. I hated playing the role of the villain in any story Langley was telling about us.

  “She’s better off with you, right?” The words came out on a growl. I took my hands out of my pockets and scowled as they automatically curled into fists.

  The guy with the beard shook his head and returned my fierce look. “I’ve been into her for a long time. If she’d give me half a chance, I would never let her go. But, she’s scared. Every time she gives her heart to someone, they let her go and leave her behind. She’s not willing to part with it anymore. She’s too afraid of being hurt again, of trusting anyone fully.”

  The words hit harder than his fists ever would. I lifted a hand to the spot in the center of my chest that wouldn’t stop aching.