He could feel resentment and anger radiating off of her, and even worse, he started to get angry at himself for forcing this move, even though he had his reasons for demanding she leave Pittsburgh altogether.
“I get that you want me when you want me, however you want me for a limited period of time, then you won’t want me anymore,” she said. “I get it. I do. But it makes me feel terrible inside. I’m sorry that sometimes I have a hard time acting like it doesn’t. I’m not a robot, like you.”
He wanted to hold her. He wanted to tell her he would never get tired of her, because at that moment, as much as he didn’t want it to be true, he could feel it’s truth in his heart. He wanted to tell her he loved her, had been in love with her for ten years, even when he had thought he hated her. But every word, every action he considered was a Pandora’s box that couldn’t and shouldn’t be opened.
So instead he stayed quiet. The next day when he woke up, she hadn’t disappeared like the two mornings prior. But somehow watching her get ready for work without a word was even worse. She usually played music or rattled on about her patients, the ones she was worried about, and the ones who were recovering faster than expected. For someone who was used to getting ready in solitary silence, her chatterbox ways should have been irritating, but he’d liked her stories, liked hearing about the ups and downs of her job, which was so different from his own.
But that Monday morning it felt like he was dealing with the ghost of the woman he’d come to know. And by the time he made it to work, he was furious with both her and himself.
He couldn’t help but think back to ten years ago, to the night that had changed everything.
***
When Nathan had invited Layla over to the Sinclair mansion to help him choose a college, he’d only had a vague idea of what he’d do after she arrived. Yes, he wanted her in his bed, but he had no idea how to get her there. Usually, he didn’t have to do any work when it came to girls. If he saw one he liked, he said “Hello,” and then an appropriate amount of time later, “Where do you live?” which eventually led to sex. Sometimes he didn’t even have to go this far. Girls would just throw themselves at him, making any effort on his part moot.
But Layla wasn’t like other girls. Although, they’d been getting along since the double date, she’d never given any indication she thought of him as anything more than her boyfriend’s twin brother. There’d been no sly looks behind Andrew’s back or even a hint of mild sexual interest. And sitting with her legs crisscrossed in the library’s large window seat, going over the brochures for the five schools that had accepted him for next fall, she’d actually seemed intent on helping him choose one.
“I know you just got me over here for the company,” she said, after putting down the last brochure. “But I really think you should go with Yale. You’re probably leaning toward Harvard because your dad went there, but I think Harvard will only exacerbate your douchebag tendencies.”
He laughed. “My douchebag tendencies? Wow, tell me what you really think.”
“I am,” she said with a gentle pat on his knee. “Keep in mind, I didn’t suggest you should go the small Ivy liberal art college route, because you might need those douchebag tendencies later, and I don’t want them to beat that out of you. Yale seems like a happy medium: name recognition, but less cut-throat than Harvard. I think you could be happy there.”
He grabbed the Yale packet and said, “Okay, Yale it is.”
“What?” she said. “Just like that?”
“I respect your opinion.”
“You’re not serious,” she said, even as she watched him sign the acceptance letter and a few more forms before sliding them into the return envelope.
“Completely serious,” he answered. “I’m going to put this in the mail tomorrow. Thanks for the advice.”
“No, thank you,” she said. The giddy smile that broke out across her face just about stopped his heart. “No one’s ever trusted me with such a big decision before.”
And then she hugged him, enveloping him in her warmth and curves, so he could barely think, much less keep himself from saying, “I love you.”
She pulled back, her face going from smiling to confused. “What did you say?”
“You’re beautiful,” he repeated, unable to stop himself now that he had started. “And I’m in love with you.”
Layla let him go, un-crisscrossing her legs and turning away from him. She balled her hands in her lap and stared at them, obviously trying to think of a nice way to let him down.
He, too, turned to face front, and he stared at his own hands folded in his lap as he said, “I know you belong to Andrew, but I love you, more than he does, more than anyone else ever could, and I had to tell you.”
He waited for her to let him down easy. He’d never been let down easy before, but Layla seemed like the kind of girl who would be good at that: attracting the wrong kind of boy, then having to break his heart.
But when she looked up, her eyes were glistening with tears. “I think I’m in love with you, too,” she whispered. “No, actually, I know I am. I’ve been fighting it so hard, because I didn’t want to hurt Andrew, but I don’t love him. I love you.”
Nathan wasn’t sure who reached for who, but the next thing he knew, she was in his arms and they were kissing. And it was better than anything he had daydreamed. If not for the hard sexual need burning inside of him, he could have stayed there kissing her forever. But she was rubbing her body against his, and his body was also demanding more. He barely had time to sheath himself in the condom he kept in his wallet, before he’d pushed up her skirt and entered her. Sinking into her warmth felt like a dream come true. Not until she audibly winced with a sharp intake of air did he remember her virgin status.
“Oh, shit, Layla, I’m sorry,” he said, freezing inside of her. He stroked a hand over her short hair and laid his forehead against hers. “If I had remembered, I never would have—” He stopped himself there, because he didn’t want to lie to her. As crazy as he was about her, nothing would have stopped him from making love to her. But now he found himself wishing he could have made her first time more romantic, or at least laid her down on a bed before mauling her.
However, she interrupted his self-castigation with a whispered, “Nathan, I love you. I’m glad you’re the first. But could you please start moving again.”
He happily accommodated her request, pumping into her with only slightly less abandon than before. He had never wanted anything as much as he wanted her. All thoughts of Andrew disappeared from his head and so did the rest of the world as he braced himself against the edged of the curved window seat and moved inside of her. A sweet hurt built up inside his groin, begging for him to release. But he denied himself, desperate to please her, to show her he was a better choice than Andrew in every way, even if it didn’t seem so on the surface.
“I love you,” he whispered, over and over again into her ear, until she finally climaxed for him.
“Nathan!” she cried, clenching around him, drawing him even further in as they both came.
Afterwards, they didn’t talk about what they had done, just straightened themselves out enough to look decent when they walked through the house to the one-bedroom guest cottage he occupied behind the mansion. He led her straight to his room, and this time they took their clothes off before making love again. Nathan could still remember how happy he’d felt as he fell asleep with her wrapped up in his arms, like he could accomplish anything and everything now, just because he’d won the heart of Layla Matthews.
But the next morning he’d woken up to find her gone. At first he wondered if it had all been a dream. But no, there was his acceptance letter to Yale, sitting on his desk, packaged and waiting to go.
It occurred to him Andrew was due back that morning and Layla might have taken off rather than risk getting caught cheating on him with his twin brother.
Nathan should have felt more guilty about stealing his brother’s girlfriend, but the truth was, she had always been his, from the moment he met her. To Nathan’s way of thinking, his brother was partly to blame for meeting Layla first and taking something that didn’t truly belong to him.
Knowing Layla, she was sitting in her dorm room at that moment trying to think of the best way to let her brother down. But Nathan already knew the best method would be to rip the band-aid off. It would be better for Nathan to tell it to his brother straight, without subjecting him to the embarrassment of Layla’s profuse apologies.
So he went to the main house to do this, climbing the stairs to his brother’s suite. He could see the door was open, which meant he was already back from his trip.
It occurred to Nathan at that point that maybe he shouldn’t go to Yale after all. He’d rather be here with Layla at Carnegie Mellon, than a six-hour drive away in Connecticut. But Layla probably wouldn’t go for it. With that misguided sense of honor she had, he could already hear her saying they shouldn’t rub their relationship in Andrew’s face—
That’s when he saw them. Layla wrapped in Andrew’s arms as he kissed her with a passion Nathan hadn’t even known his staid brother possessed.
First it felt like a punch in the gut. Then his heart cracked into a thousand pieces, leaving nothing behind but a black ball bitterness and hate.
As if sensing him his presence in the doorway, they both looked up.
“Nathan,” Layla said.
But he didn’t stay. He refused to stand there while she let him down easy, explaining why she’d obviously chosen his brother over him. He walked away, ignoring Layla calling his name. Why had she told him she loved him? Maybe it wouldn’t have hurt so bad if she hadn’t lied to him, but he had believed her, and left himself unprotected. It felt like Layla had plunged a knife into his heart and he had just walked right into it like a total dupe.
He stopped at the cottage to grab his passport and stuff a few clothes into an overnight bag. Fifteen hours later, he was in Ibiza partying his way through a stream of worldly and cynical European girls, vowing to never let another woman hook him the way Layla had. The pain didn’t go away, but after two weeks it lessened to the point that he felt he could face Layla and Andrew without doing them physical harm.
His plan had been to move to New Haven earlier than he needed. Now that Layla had chosen Andrew, there was nothing keeping him in Pittsburgh. But when he stopped in to get his things, he found the house in an uproar because Layla had fallen down their main stairs, and had only come out of her resulting coma the night before his return. Afraid of a lawsuit, his father forbade Andrew to have any further contact with Layla, and to Nathan’s surprise, his twin had tersely agreed.
Despite Nathan’s anger at her, he had to tamp down the urge to visit her himself. He couldn’t stand the thought of lovely and vibrant Layla stuck in a hospital bed, having sustained multiple injuries. He had almost convinced himself to go see her against his parents’ wishes, when her father had come to the mansion and threatened them with his bogus assault charge.
As his father had written hers a check, Nathan also wrote Layla off, shuttering his heart against her, and leaving for New Haven just a couple of days later. He didn’t see or hear of her again until she came storming back into his life three months ago, reigniting his obsession with her, simply by revealing she had completely forgotten her betrayal and had no idea how deeply she had hurt him.
But now he could feel her slipping through his fingers again, and this time it was no one’s fault but his own. That morning at work, he couldn’t concentrate on the business contracts he’d been sent for review. He snapped at Kate more than once. He even hung up on one of his vice presidents—all because Layla had him so twisted up inside.
He couldn’t let her stay in Pittsburgh, but at the same time, he couldn’t figure out how to let her go.
Kate interrupted his brooding by buzzing into his office. “Mr. Sinclair, your sister-in-law is on line one.”
“Send her to voicemail.”
“She says it’s urgent,” Kate answered.
He rolled his eyes. Knowing his sister-in-law, she was panicking about some detail of the ball. But he took it, just in case it had something to do with Andrew.
He pushed line one. “Diana, what do you want?”
Diana’s voice came down the line, crisp but distraught. “There’s a black woman sitting in our receiving room. She says she’s Andrew’s ex-girlfriend, and that she’d like to talk to him. Do you know anything about this?”
Fury exploded in his chest. “Keep her there,” he said, barely able to speak.
“Nathan, what’s going on?”
“I’m coming right now. Keep her there, dammit.”
He threw the phone back in its cradle and rushed out of his office without a word of explanation to Kate.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
LAYLA grew increasingly anxious the longer Andrew’s society blond wife, Diana Sinclair, stayed gone. Maybe she shouldn’t have introduced herself as an ex-girlfriend of Andrew’s. But if she hadn’t, she ran the risk of Diana finding out later, and it seemed disrespectful to not only show up at the woman’s house out of the blue, but also to lie about who she was—especially if they were having marital problems like Jessica had said.
Diana responded to her introduction with a slightly nonplussed blink and she’d invited Layla in and even offered her a cup of tea.
“You have a lovely home,” Layla said, following her into the receiving room, which was done up in tasteful French country decor, with a butter yellow and dark blue color scheme.
Layla though about Nathan’s loft. The weekend before they’d gone shopping in the nearby Southside Works, and she’d convinced Nathan to buy some bright yellow accent pieces and a few electric blue end-tables to break up all the black and grey going on in his converted warehouse loft. The insertion of a few pops of color had transformed the apartment, and even Nathan admitted it made his home look a lot more welcoming and a lot less industrial. She had been hoping to convince him to paint the kitchen cabinets red before she left, but now she wasn’t even sure Nathan and she would still be talking after the terrible weekend they’d had.