Our Last First Kiss KOBO Page 16

  Then Alec stirred, his lashes fluttering, his hand reaching out to the empty space beside him on the mattress. He frowned, then opened his eyes, almost instantly catching sight of Lilly.

  “Hey,” he said, and flipped the covers back to reveal the place where she had lain. “Come back to bed.” His smile was sleepy and full of boyish appeal. “Let me agitate you some more.”

  She jumped to her feet and began pacing instead. “I have to talk to you.”

  “It will be much more comfortable when you’re on your back, naked,” he said reasonably. When she didn’t comply, he slowly sat up, the sheet pooling at his waist. “Sugar, have we got a problem?”

  She paused at the foot of the bed. “I kept trying to head things off, I did. I thought I made it clear. I thought you understood we do not fit.”

  His glance turned wary. “I thought we’d agreed we both don’t want a relationship.”

  “We did agree to that.” Glaring at him, she folded her arms over her chest. “But then, ‘You should let me be something to you, Lilly.’ You said that last night. Didn’t you mean it?”

  He rubbed his chin with his hand, his whiskers making a scratchy sound against his palm. “I feel like that’s a trick question.”

  “It’s an honest one.”

  “Okay.” Both hands forked through his hair. “Shit, Lilly. Fine.” He sent her a dark look. “I want to see you more. Again. Upon our return to LA.”

  When she didn’t say anything right away, he threw up his hands. “Shoot me. Shoot me, Lilly Durand, because it’s true. My mind changed and I want to give it a try. I think you should let me be something to you. I want you to be something to me.”

  She told herself she felt no secret thrill at those words. “That’s because you know nothing about me.”

  He groaned. “Lilly—”

  “There’s a blank line on my birth certificate where a father should be named. My mother took off with some new loser and left me when I was an infant.” She sucked in a breath. “I’ve never seen her since. I don’t remember her at all.”

  His face softened. “Lilly…” He patted the mattress beside him. “Come sit down next to me.”

  “I was raised by my uncle and my aunt, if ‘raised’ is a word you can use for sleeping on the living room couch and storing your meager belongings behind it. By five I could make breakfast, by six I did all the laundry, by seven I had learned to lock myself in the closet when my surrogate parents decided to go at each other.”

  “Fuck, Lilly.”

  “I went to school every morning so I could get away from them and I applied myself in school so I would never be them.”

  “And you aren’t, baby. You’re you.”

  She shook her head. “But growing up like that alters a person—alters their expectations and priorities. Mine…they can never be the same as yours.”

  “No, Lilly.”

  “Yes, Alec.” She resumed pacing. “Do you know what will happen if we become somethings to each other?”

  “Uh—”

  “Love will be next. And I know you didn’t say anything about love, but what if you want that too? Then where will we be?”

  He didn’t look as surprised by this thought as she expected he might, more bemused if she had to label his expression. “We’ll be in love?”

  “No! We won’t be in love. You’ll feel all that sparkly stuff because you’re just like Audra. Some people get to have that…you do, Audra does, you’re the exceptions or the half or whatever the number is. You, Alec, will have a life that comes up roses. The thorn that was Simon’s terrible tragedy only makes more certain that you’ll experience the full goodness of it.”

  He rubbed a hand over his face. “Then if I want you, why won’t my full goodness of life mean I get you?”

  She stopped again, staring at his expression, unsure of what she read there. “Let me tell you a little story.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “When I was twelve, I was in summer school and I met a new friend. I didn’t really have friends, because I could never bring anyone home and anyway, all kids can tell the state of another’s kid’s home life by what’s in their lunch bag…or that they don’t have one or the money to buy food at school.”

  His expression turned pained. “Please come sit by me, Lilly.”

  She shook her head. “So I gathered my courage and told my friend about my aunt and uncle, about the screaming fits and the throwing of plates and bottles and sometimes punches. And she said her parents used to fight all the time but they got a divorce and now everything was much more peaceful.”

  Lilly hauled in a breath. “So the next time things went crazy in the apartment and they went at it, after my uncle stomped away in a rage and when I crawled out from the closet, I asked my aunt about it. While she was sweeping up the glass in the kitchen, I asked her why she didn’t divorce my uncle.”

  “And what did she say?”

  “‘This is how Durands love.’”

  He went still. “That’s not love, Lilly.”

  She waved a hand. “Of course it’s not. But it’s all I know. It’s all I ever saw outside of TV shows and storybooks until I was eighteen years old. So you see what that makes me?”

  “I’m afraid to ask,” he muttered.

  “It makes me worthless for a man like you, with the kind of life you were raised in and the kind of future that you’re expecting for yourself. You can’t mean something to me because I don’t know what to do with that. I’ll leave it at the park overnight or forget it on the bus, or worse, hold it too tight until it’s been worn to nothing and you won’t know how to tell me that I killed it by caring too much.”

  “Oh, hell,” Alec said, as if he was fed up with the conversation. He started climbing out of the bed, but Lilly decided she was fed up too, and ran for the door, making her way into the hall with the sound of him calling her name ringing in her ears.

  It was done. This time, truly O-V-E-R.

  Lilly arrived back at her bungalow, red-faced and anxious. Stressed by the conversation with Alec, she’d gotten herself turned around again and had wandered the deserted grounds of the resort, disoriented and growing more tense with every passing minute. It was only by luck that she’d found the narrow track leading to the front door. When the key card clicked in the lock and it swung inward, she nearly fell inside, relieved. Reprieved.

  Rubbing her hand over her chest to calm her thudding heart, she walked into the living area, only to encounter Audra, who stared at her in equal surprise.

  The blonde had her hands curved around a steaming cup of in-room coffee and her gaze cut to the closed door of Lilly’s bedroom, then back to Lilly. “It’s so early. I thought you were still sleeping. That you’d gotten in late and had yet to wake up.”

  She took in the other woman’s figure, nearly hidden by the too-large sweats. But Audra’s face gave away that she’d lost weight. There were shadows beneath her eyes and her lips were cracked and pale. “I’m the worst friend,” Lilly said, taking note again of the black coffee her friend was lifting to her mouth. “I need to feed you a real breakfast.”

  Hustling to the coffee table by the sofa, she flipped through the hospitality binder to locate the room service menu. “Lattés, side orders of bacon and sausage. Look, they have ricotta pancakes!”

  There was a thirty-minute guarantee on delivery, which gave Lilly enough time to shower and put on fresh clothes. She glanced at the garment bag hanging on the outside of her closet door as she entered her room and felt a fresh round of anxiety. Apparently the dress she’d bought at a State Street boutique the day before had been sent over. After making payment, the store had insisted on keeping the garment for the afternoon in order to repair an inch of fallen hem and to give it a fresh press.

  The purchase had been Jojo’s idea. The other woman had persuaded Lilly that she must attend the dinner-dance serving as the final event in the Thatcher anniversary celebration week. The guests would not only include t
he family staying at the resort, but also a crowd of friends who were caravanning up from LA in stretch limousines. Rich people could never take no for an answer, Lilly thought now, recalling her weak protest followed by the inevitable capitulation. They expected everything and everyone to fall into line.

  A warm shower washed away some of her resentment, and she walked back out to the living area, wearing a smile, a pair of yoga pants, and her favorite hoodie. The fragrance of delicious breakfast food was unmistakable. “I’m all dressed for overloading on carbs and fat,” she declared, pulling on the elastic waistband of her bottoms to prove there was extra space.

  She headed straight for the room service cart and the domed platters sitting there. “Can I serve you?” she asked Audra. “And don’t worry, we have sliced melon and kiwis to counter all the bad stuff.”

  When her friend didn’t answer, she glanced over. “What?” she said in response to the other woman’s speculative gaze. “What is it?”

  “I was just wondering how long you thought you could get away without explaining your walk of shame.”

  Lilly returned her attention to the plate she was filling, stabbing a sausage with slightly more vigor than necessary. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I don’t know why you’re trying to pretend it didn’t happen. I’m your best friend. It’s not like I’m judging you.”

  “There is no walk of shame when you’re wearing jeans and athletic shoes, is why. That walk only happens in a teeny dress and when you’re barefoot and carrying your fuck-me shoes on your finger.”

  “Lilly Durand would never not wear shoes in a public space.”

  This was true. Her friend really knew her well. “I go shoe-less at a pool,” she said with great dignity. “And the beach. I like the feel of sand on my toes.”

  Audra rolled her eyes and came forward to snatch up one of the plates loaded with breakfast calories. With a fork in hand, she dropped to the sofa. “What’s the latest between you and Alec Thatcher?”

  When Lilly didn’t answer, her friend gusted a sigh. “You’re sleeping together. Admit it.”

  There was no point in denial. “We did sleep together.”

  “Was that so hard?” Audra asked.

  Lilly couldn’t say. Admitting she slept with Alec wasn’t the issue, it was explaining the aftermath that tied her tongue.

  “Well, I’m proud of you. I hope you end up with a fabulous, glamorous regret, something like Pink might have, or…I don’t know…Angelina Jolie.”

  “She’s got all those weird tattoos,” Lilly pointed out. “I don’t want that many regrets.”

  “A teeny one then, manageable, like a blurry butterfly on your ankle or a small Japanese character on your shoulder that you thought was the symbol for ‘rebel’ but really means ‘noodles.’” Audra drew in a breath. “In the ensuing years, we’ll laugh hysterically over it during those happy hours when we forget to order food along with the wine.”

  “I don’t think I’m ever going to be laughing about Alec,” Lilly muttered, forking up a piece of fluffy pancake.

  “What’s that?”

  “How about you?” Lilly said, turning the tables. “Give me a progress report on your own regret-pursuit.” Of course she didn’t want to encourage her friend to get into any trouble, but she might feel more upbeat wearing some regular clothes and experiencing the air beyond the four walls of the bungalow.

  Audra’s mouth twisted. “It might take a little more time to get started.” Her gaze shifted to her plate. “I’m still wearing part of the dress under the sweats.”

  “Oh, Audra.” Lilly’s temper rose, as hot as a pepper. “Jacob is not worthy of you. And he’s certainly not worth a maudlin attachment to a swath of white lace.”

  “White lace and promises.” Audra moved her food around, shoving a slice of sausage against a coin of bright green kiwi. “You know, like the song.”

  “Which started life as a bank commercial,” Lilly said, ruthless now. “As a way to sell checking accounts to naïve young couples.”

  Audra looked up. “Way to bust the romance.”

  “My point is, there’s no reason to sentimentalize the dress you were going to wear to an event that didn’t happen.”

  “I still believe in love,” Audra confessed.

  “Of course you do,” Lilly affirmed. “I still believe in love for you too. But you have to get over this hump first. Get out of that now-grungy dress, put on something decent, and if you have to, yes, go out and be ‘bad,’ whatever you think that means.”

  Then worried, she added. “But not too bad. No tattoos you’re not entirely certain of, nothing illegal, and if he’s riding a Harley, text me first and tell me where you’re going.”

  Audra, finally, laughed a little. “Maybe I like the idea of the Harley guy. Can I stipulate that whoever he is works with his hands?”

  “I give you permission to get your sexy back with a plumber, baker, or a cabinet-maker.”

  Her friend pointed a finger, gave a grin. “Extra points for the Justin Timberlake song reference.”

  In a nonchalant gesture, Lilly blew on her nails, polished them against her shirt. “I deserve them.”

  But then Audra’s smile died. “There’s one hitch to getting on with the plan.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Con’s coming tonight,” she said, referencing her old brother, Connor Montgomery, big, brawny, bossy.

  “Why?” Lilly liked him, considering him almost a brother too, but she wasn’t sure what positive role he could play during their sojourn at the Heartbreak Hotel.

  “Before, he had to leave Santa Barbara right away because of work. Now he has a free couple of days and he said he’s coming to check on me.”

  A sudden thought flew into Lilly’s head. “Maybe…” Half of her rejected the idea while the other latched onto it as the perfect solution. “He should take my room. Then I can head back to LA early.” Without leaving Audra here alone.

  The move would put real distance between Lilly and Alec immediately. Today she could get back to her real life.

  “No,” Audra was saying, her head moving back and forth. “You can’t leave me alone with Con, the man with the crazy ideas. He’s a force of nature, like a hurricane. A day alone with him and I’ll take off on a bicycle, lose my little dog, and end up doing drugs in a field with a scarecrow, a lion, and a tin man.”

  “You’re talking about a Kansas tornado,” Lilly said, not sure if her heart was beating so hard because Audra refused to let her go or because she was going to stay for a few more days, too near to Alec for peace of mind.

  “That. But speaking of upheavals…” She sent Lilly a guarded look.

  Her stomach flipped over. “What is it?” she asked slowly, her belly tightening.

  “Yesterday I got a call from Frank.”

  “My cousin, Frank?” As if they knew another. Red tinged her vision. “What the hell was he doing calling you? How does he even have your number?”

  Audra shrugged. “He was looking for you. Said he knew you were out of town but that you weren’t picking up your phone.”

  Lilly grimaced. It had been dead when she took it from her pocket before her shower. “Block his number,” she told her friend now, and headed for the bedroom where her own device was charging. “I promise he won’t bother you again.”

  The dick picked up on the first ring. “Cuz,” he said, in an unctuous voice. The word defined the man himself, with his oily hair and his smarmy attitude. He’d bullied her when she was small—petty cruelties like breaking her pencils and balling up her homework. When he was a preteen, a couple of times he’d tried barging in on her when she was in the bathroom showering, a blatant attempt at trying to see her naked body. The second time she’d thrown a full shampoo bottle at him, catching him in the eye, and his howl had brought his mother running.

  Her aunt had seen the score and hauled him off by the arm, with threats about what happened to pervy boys in p
rison. Later, she’d muttered under her breath about Lilly keeping the —broken—door locked, but she’d already devised her own solution. When next she put her cousin’s clean underwear away in the drawer, she’d pierced the stack of tighty-whities with a butcher knife, front and center.

  Sometimes she tried to convince herself her early years hadn’t been that bad, that Frank and her aunt and uncle had done their best with a neglected child thrust into their bare-bones existence, but she had only to hear her cousin’s voice to recall the stark loneliness of her existence punctuated by the dread of being abandoned by the very people who frightened her.

  “Cuz?” Frank said again now. “Are you there?”

  “I’m here, Frank,” she said, hardening her voice. “And you’re to lose Audra’s number immediately.”

  “Aw. I was just trying to get in touch with you.”

  “Lose Audra’s number immediately.”

  “Jeez. You’re so touchy.”

  “I am,” Lilly said. “Now what do you want?”

  “We haven’t seen you in a while. Dad’s truck—”

  “I heard about that.”

  “My tooth—”

  “I heard about that too.”

  Frank cleared his throat. “We just need a little more to get us by, honey.”

  “Don’t call me that,” she said, her jaw clenched.

  Her cousin huffed out a sigh. “It’s a simple request.”

  “Yeah. Simple.”

  “I could make it simpler for you,” Frank said, sounding eager. “I hear you’re at that fancy place, The Hathaway?”

  Oh, no. “Frank—”

  “We really need the cash, Lilly. I could drive up there, you could take me to lunch and—”

  “No.” He didn’t have the gas money, she consoled herself. Nor the initiative to make the two-hour journey in Southern California traffic. “I’ll be back in a few days,” she said. “You’ll get what you want then.”

  Ending the call without allowing him another word, she placed her phone carefully back on the table. If they were normal people, there were other ways to get them the money, like direct deposit via computer to an account at a financial institution. But a few months back they’d informed her they were operating on a cash basis only. She’d decided she didn’t want to know how they managed like that.