Eminent Love Page 5

  There was no way Layne had never dated anyone before. Impossible. How could someone so beautiful be perpetually single? Unless… “Did you not want to date? I mean, is it something you’re not interested in?” Normally, this would’ve been exactly what I wanted to hear. Except, the thought of it made me sick. If she told me she only wanted to be friends, I’d accept it, simply because I’d agree to anything at this point if it meant she’d be in my life.

  However, I wouldn’t be happy about it.

  “Life kinda got in the way. It’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  Random, incomplete theories bombarded me. They came at me so fast I didn’t have time to evaluate the validity of one before being attacked by another. Everything from her having a kid to her being some princess of an exotic island. I’m unsure of the expression I gave her, although it must’ve given away my confusion. She stepped toward me, closing the frigid space between us, and placed her hand over my erratically beating heart. The warmth of her touch seeped into my chest, easing some of the crushing pressure behind it.

  “Where are we eating?”

  Her random question caught me by surprise, as well as the casual way she’d asked. Yet I chose to ignore the sudden shift in topic and answered her. “Wherever you want.”

  For the first time since I walked out of my room and found her in my apartment, a smile graced her lips. It was small and slightly unsure, but at least it was something. It was the tiniest glimpse of the happy-go-lucky girl from the drive-in, and I couldn’t have been more relieved.

  “You mentioned breakfast in bed. So why don’t we eat there?” It seemed rather forward, especially coming from her. However, the crimson in her cheeks told me she hadn’t meant it suggestively. After I nodded, she ducked her head and asked, “Can you put the food on some plates while I use your bathroom?”

  “Sure.” I backed out of the kitchen to let her pass.

  I couldn’t plate the food fast enough, nearly burning my hand in the process. And then I almost left the kitchen without forks or napkins. I was in such a rush to get to her, I almost tripped on the way into my room. But once I got there, I realized she hadn’t left the bathroom yet, so I set her food on my nightstand and climbed onto the bed with my back against the headboard to wait with my plate in my lap.

  As the seconds passed, my heart rate increased.

  My cheeks began to burn.

  Without knowing how, Layne had managed to get to me in a way no one ever had before.

  The door creaked open with hesitancy, catching my attention. What I saw forced my lungs to constrict, leaving them practically inoperable. She wore the same clothes she’d had on when she left the kitchen, but instead of the long blond hair over her shoulders, she had short—shorter than mine—brown hair. It appeared to me that she’d styled it with water while in the bathroom, sweeping the slightly longer pieces on the top of her head to the side.

  I had no words. No thoughts. Nothing came to me as I watched her stand in the doorway, the bathroom light turned off behind her, and her eyes cast to the floor. She had her chin tilted down, preventing me from seeing her fully, but I didn’t need to. I could tell how difficult this was for her by the way her shoulders hunched and her back arched.

  Except, I had no idea why.

  “Is this why you don’t like people touching your hair?”

  Her gaze lifted, although her chin never did. Her eyes met mine, and I could see the fresh tears in them. “I wear a wig. I don’t like people to know that.”

  I shoved my plate to the end of the bed and crawled closer to her. As soon as I sat down on the edge of the mattress, I pulled her by her hands until she stood between my legs. My fingertips met the smooth skin of her face, wiping away the tracks of tears before I ran them through her hair. Her slight wince nearly made me stop, but I didn’t. I pushed through it, forcing her to do the same.

  “Can you tell me why?”

  “It sounds silly and vain, but my hair is kinda something that defines me as a woman. Without it, I don’t feel very feminine.” She ran her fingers over the the side of her head, and then around her ear, as if unconsciously tucking invisible hair behind it.

  My hands dropped to her waist and my gaze roamed her body. Her hips were narrow, although she still had curves. She may not have had full breasts, but they were perfect. There wasn’t a single thing about her to warrant such insecurity, and it made me sad for her. It made me want to do something—anything—to prove her wrong.

  “Layne…I’m looking at you right now, and you are the epitome of feminine.” My thumbs swiped over her hipbones, gently grazing her lower abdomen in the process. The slight trembling of her body was apparent beneath my touch, and the bare skin on her arms took on a gooseflesh appearance.

  “It’s hard to see that when I look at myself.”

  I peered up at her, noticing the hidden pain in her round eyes, the softness in the vibrant blue. “Can you tell me what happened? You don’t have to worry about me judging you. I swear that won’t happen.” Had I not witnessed it for myself and was only told about her hair, I might’ve jumped the gun and assumed she’d gone crazy and shaved it off. But after seeing the fear in her eyes, I knew the reason wasn’t so simple.

  “Almost a year ago, during my senior year in high school, I’d gone to the doctor because I was having pain in my side. They found a cyst on my ovary and removed it. A few months later, the pain was back, so I went to see the doctor again. They found another cyst on the same ovary, and when they went to remove that one, they had to take the entire ovary.”

  No matter how hard I tried to keep my focus on her eyes as she spoke, I couldn’t help but turn my attention to her flat stomach. I had no idea the things she’d suffered or what it all meant. However, from the way she spoke, I knew how badly it had affected her.

  My heart ached for her loss.

  “They discovered I had ovarian cancer.”

  Saliva pooled in my mouth as I gaped at her, disbelieving what she told me. There was no way. It couldn’t have been true, and I desperately waited for her to tell me it was all a lie. I wanted nothing more than to hear her say she’d shaven her head in some manic state of depression instead of the horrific story she told me. I would’ve taken any other reason.

  “I don’t like being lied to, because when my parents found out, they tried to hide it from me. Obviously, they couldn’t, but for a short amount of time, they tried to pass it off as the doctors wanting to find out why the cyst came back. Having to see an oncologist kinda negated their story.”

  I had no words. I wanted to offer her something—a promise, encouraging words, a hug. I didn’t care what, except I couldn’t come up with anything of value. My mouth grew dry the longer I sat with my jaw hanging open, desperately trying to come up with something, yet ending up with nothing.

  “I’ve been cancer free for eight weeks now.”

  I sighed and pressed my forehead against her stomach, fighting back my tears of sympathy. I tried to grasp what she’d told me, but I found myself unable to—incapable of accepting the knowledge of Layne’s suffering. Finally, it all hit me, and I pulled my face away while strengthening my hold on her hips. “I took you on a five-mile hike today. Why didn’t you say anything? You should’ve said something.”

  My forcefulness must’ve caught her off guard because she gasped and tried to take a step back, although my grip on her wouldn’t allow her to move away from me. I fought with myself, knowing I needed to calm down and be gentler with her. However, I couldn’t manage to pull myself from my own depressing thoughts long enough to do so.

  “I’m not a victim, Creed. There’s nothing keeping me from living a normal life—doing normal things.” Frustration passed her lips in a throaty huff. “This is another reason why I don’t tell people. They treat me like I’m fragile, like I’m going to break. If cancer didn’t beat me, a hike certainly won’t.”

  I stood up, forcing her to take a step back, yet my hands remained on her hips, kee
ping her body close to mine. I towered over her, and in order to meet my gaze, she had to tilt her head back. Her breaths matched mine, fast and full of passion, warring together between our parted lips as we regarded one another. Our penetrating stares burned with a deep intensity, as if trying to read the other’s thoughts.

  “So…you’re okay, though. Right?” I finally asked, breaking the spell we seemed to have been under. My eyes grew heavy—although, not with sleep like they had before. They were swollen with emotion, ready to flood with her response. Fear coiled around my neck, tightening like a boa constrictor, threatening to take me down with a single strike.

  Her answer would either be the venom or the cure.

  “I’m okay,” she whispered.

  I didn’t bother asking anything more before dropping my lips to hers. It was meant to be a kiss of relief—a slow, gentle expression of my sentiments. Except, that’s not what it turned into. Instead of slow, our tongues furiously fought for control in a war with the other. What was supposed to be tenderness proved to be anything but. It was rough and desperate, demanding and unforgiving. I pulled her body closer to mine, practically feeling her heart beating inside her chest.

  Without warning, Layne pulled away, ending our passionate exchange.

  “I’m sorry,” I panted through shallow breaths. “I didn’t mean for that to happen. I don’t know what came over me.” I sat back down on the edge of the bed and dropped my forehead into my open palms.

  She ran her fingertips through my hair with soft strokes. Her support warmed me, slowed my heartbeat, filled my lungs with oxygen—offered me a sense of hope. “It’s okay. Whatever it was came over me, too. I’ve never been kissed like that before.”

  That caught my attention and forced me to lift my head.

  Her eyes wouldn’t meet mine. They danced around, never settling on me. “I mean…I’ve been kissed before, but not like that. Just because I’ve never dated anyone doesn’t mean I haven’t done anything.”

  I wanted to ask what she meant. What all she’d done and what she hadn’t. But I didn’t think it was the right time—nor did I really care. “Because of what happened to you?”

  The word “cancer” burned my tongue.

  I couldn’t say it—I couldn’t even stand to think it.

  She shrugged, and I realized she still stood in front of me with our food untouched. Before giving her time to explain, I moved over on the bed and propped up a few pillows for her. She watched me for a moment, unease stiffening her posture. She probably assumed I’d done it for different reasons, but once I handed her the plate from the side table, she relaxed and gave in.

  “I was seventeen when I went to the doctor for the first time about the pain in my side. I hadn’t dated anyone prior to that. I wasn’t ever really interested in anyone. And anyone I did have interest in usually went after Drea. She was the fun one—I was always the quiet one. And then afterward…well, I lost my ovary, and then my hair. Being unattractive kinda makes it hard to pick up guys.”

  “That can’t be true. I’m sure lots of guys looked at you twice—hell, probably more than that—you just never noticed. I don’t even want to know what would’ve happened if you weren’t trapped in a car with me. You more than likely wouldn’t have paid any attention to me no matter how hard I tried.”

  She offered me a coy smile between bites of food.

  “You shouldn’t be so dependent on your hair. I thought you were hot with the blond wig, but if I’m being honest—which I told you I would be—I’ve never seen anything sexier than when you walked out of the bathroom.”

  “I was crying,” she admitted with a giggle. “I’m sure that wasn’t sexy.”

  “It was humbling…you’re right. I happen to think your smile is sexy. And your laugh. And the way you look at me through your lashes when you get embarrassed—like you are right now.”

  “You’re good for my ego, Creed…” She put her fork down and rested her plate on her thighs. “I don’t even know your last name. I just took off my wig for you, told you my secret, and then you gave me the best kiss I’ve ever had, yet I don’t know very much about you.”

  “Wallace. Creed Matthew Wallace. I’m twenty-one, and I currently attend UNC Chapel Hill. I’m in my junior year, and I plan on going to Duke for law school after graduation—you can keep the rivalry comments to yourself,” I added with a smirk. “I’ve wanted to be a lawyer my entire life…defend the innocent. But that’s all you’re going to get about me. If you want more, you’ll have to stick around. Now, what about you, Layne Cooper? Tell me about yourself.”

  She picked up her last piece of bacon and pushed it around in the leftover egg yolk on her plate, keeping her attention in front of her. “Since we’re giving out full names here…it’s Layne Madison Cooper. I’m in my first year at Durham Tech. I’m studying to be a graphic designer. I live with my parents, but I don’t want to be there too much longer. Going through cancer kinda changes things a little. I want to live life…and that’s hard to do when you have people constantly hovering.”

  “Are they overprotective? Like, do you have a curfew?”

  She toyed with her lip again, which seemed to be a nervous habit of hers. “No. Just as long as they know where I am, they don’t care how late I stay out.”

  My heart pounded furiously in my chest, my nerves so fried my hands began to shake. “Do you have to go home at all?”

  Her piercing blue eyes met mine, and it seemed as though she stopped breathing.

  “You don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. I just thought it’d be nice to get to know you better.” What I really wanted to tell her was I didn’t want her to leave. I didn’t care if we didn’t say another word to one another, as long as I had her with me.

  “I…um…”

  “Never mind.” I waved it off and took our plates to the kitchen.

  When I came back to the room, I found her beneath the covers with her head on my pillow. “As long as you’re okay with getting to know each other with our clothes still on, I have no problem with it. I can text Drea and have her wake me up when they get back—if we’re asleep—and she can take me home.”

  “Are you sure?” I asked from the end of the bed.

  She gave me her answer by throwing aside the covers next to her and inviting me in. I’d never felt more content in my entire life. I climbed in and pulled her close to me, wrapping my arms around her. I never wanted to let her go.

  She fit perfectly.

  It was where I always wanted her to be.

  Chapter Four

  Now

  I decided to leave the bar after two drinks. Jason did everything he could to get me to open up, but I couldn’t. It’s not like I wanted to be an asshole; I just wasn’t the sharing type. Even thinking about sharing my memories of Layne with him caused the ache in my chest to grow and burn. The song had been bad enough, flooding me with so many memories I’d once forgotten about, and intensifying the ones I would always remember.

  Harvey needed my completed memorandum by the next day, and if I didn’t get my shit together, I’d never have it done in time. Jason had been right about me, though. When so many others looked left, I looked right. When they were too busy running into a wall caused by the main problem in a case, I maneuvered through the surrounding smaller issues until I found myself on the other side. For whatever reason, I had patience, and it proved to be my best asset. My mom had always said the best things come in time, and I’d applied her logic to almost everything in life.

  However, I didn’t have the time to be patient. I had to find a strong enough argument for this case, and I had to have it done by tomorrow. So after I got back home, I went to work, digging through everything I could find until I came up with something solid.

  It’d taken me until midnight, but I finally found the holy grail and was able to complete the memorandum. I glanced at the clock next to my bed, wondering what Layne was up to. With California being three hours behind, I knew it was only
nine her time. I closed my eyes and imagined what she was doing.

  I wondered if she’d be in the shower, or if she had a place with a tub. She loved to take baths, so I couldn’t imagine she’d live somewhere that didn’t afford her the option. Picturing her soaking in bubbles, her feet propped up on the edge because she said it kept her from overheating, brought a smile to my face.

  I then thought about what her routine was these days. I had no idea how she spent her time anymore, and the thought suffocated me. I used to know every second of every day, and now, I had no clue. I knew she’d moved to San Diego, but other than that, I didn’t know anything else about her. I didn’t know where she worked, if she was still at the Kellerman headquarters, or if she’d moved on to a bigger job. Drea had gone with her, although I hadn’t spoken to either of them in a year, so I didn’t even know if they still lived together. I didn’t know if she still slept on the left side of the bed, or if she took advantage of the entire space.

  And then the absolute worst thought came to mind—I didn’t know if she slept alone.

  Thinking of Layne sharing a bed with someone else made me eager to race across the country and rip him out of my spot next to her. The irrational hostility tore through me at even the implication. I knew she didn’t belong to me anymore. She was a beautiful woman, capable of catching anyone’s attention. And anyone’s heart. Just because I’d stayed single over the last year didn’t mean she had. I couldn’t even look at a woman without thinking of Layne.

  I sat up and grabbed my phone, not caring about the time or the consequences of calling this late. I needed to hear her voice more than I needed my next breath. From my screen, her bright-blue eyes stared back at me. The deep lines next to them revealed the happiness she had felt when we’d taken the photo. I’d made her happy once, and I’d do anything to do it again.

  Not getting her back is a notion I was unwilling to accept.