Can't Let Go - A Contemporary BWWM Romance Page 9

  “Doesn’t she have bridesmaids?” I asked.

  “All cousins,” Julianne said in a flat tone. “Every last one. Pretty sure they all can’t stand her, too. They’ve always been jealous of her for some reason.”

  “That’s too bad,” I said, feigning sympathy.

  “Anyway, would you care if I set something up for you and Ayla? Coffee or something?” she asked with wide, hopeful eyes.

  “No, not at all,” I said. How could I say no to my boss?

  “Wonderful,” she said. “I’m glad to hear that! I just really want her to have a good friend. Especially since she’s getting married, you know? Antoine’s going to be her entire world. That’s just not healthy.”

  She took a sip of her coffee before standing up to leave.

  “Julianne,” I said as I tried to catch her before she wandered off. “I have a weird question for you.”

  “Sure,” she said with one hand on her hip. Her blue eyes stared into mine through her thick-rimmed glasses.

  “Do you know Kevin?” I asked. “My date? You said at the banquet that he looked familiar.”

  She pinched her face and looked up at the ceiling, deep in thought.

  “You know, he did look really familiar to me,” she said. “But it’s so hard to say.”

  “Oh, okay,” I replied. I tried to hide the disappointment in my voice. I was hoping she’d be the key to unlock the secret. “You don’t think he dated Ayla, do you?”

  Julianne laughed. “There’s a very real chance. She’s dated a lot of men. I don’t think I’ve met most of them. Some I’ve only met once or twice. I can’t keep track of them all. Maybe that’s why he looked so familiar?”

  If Julianne was right, it would’ve made perfect sense.

  “Antoine’s the only guy that’s ever really stuck around,” Julianne said with a fond smile at the mention of his name. “He’s been her longest relationship, if that says anything.”

  “How long have they been dating?” I asked, playing dumb.

  “Less than a year,” Julianne laughed. “That’s all I know. I hope that whatever she did to scare away all the other guys, she doesn’t do the same thing to Antoine!”

  Julianne tapped the back of my chair. “I better get to work.” She turned on her heels and walked down the hall.

  Again, a pang of jealousy coursed through my body. Antoine was marrying into that family whether I liked it or not, and they loved him. They loved him more than my parents ever loved him, and my parents were crazy about him. He was really lucky, and given his current circumstances, it was no wonder he had no intentions of ever having anything to do with me again.

  CHAPTER 12

  “I can’t believe you’re going out for coffee with Ayla Giovanni,” LaLa said as she perched on the edge of my bed while I got ready.

  “You’re telling me,” I lamented as I swiped on some blush. “I don’t want to go.”

  “I know you don’t,” LaLa said with sympathetic eyes. Secretly, I figured she was probably entertained by all of this.

  “Antoine’s going to think I’m up to something,” I said.

  “Screw what Antoine thinks,” she replied. “It’s not about Antoine. You’re doing your boss a favor.”

  “True,” I agreed.

  “If Antoine and Ayla weren’t dating, and your boss asked you to get coffee with Ayla, you’d have still done it, right?” LaLa stated.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “There you go,” she said. “Has nothing to do with Antoine.”

  I checked my watch. “I gotta go.”

  “Good luck,” LaLa said with a wink and a laugh. “I’ll be thinking of you.”

  I rolled my eyes and bolted out the door. We were supposed to meet at some coffee shop halfway between her place and mine. I tried to take comfort in the fact that she was probably dreading it just as much as I was.

  “Ayla, hi,” I said as I walked in the door. I was a few minutes late, and she seemed annoyed. Then again, when didn’t she seem annoyed?

  Her long, dark hair was pulled back into a low, ballerina bun. She was wearing Aztec print leggings, brown, leather booties, and a button down, silky blouse. Only she could pull off that look.

  I immediately felt frumpy next to her in my jeans and top, but I brushed it off. She had already ordered a coffee and was sipping on it while checking her phone.

  “I’m going to grab a drink,” I said, getting back up.

  I returned with my warm mug of Chai and took a seat across from her.

  “I think it’s cute that Julianne is trying to…” I trailed off as I saw her face. I guess it really wasn’t cute. It was rather sad and pathetic. “She really cares about you.”

  Ayla shrugged and sipped her coffee.

  “So your wedding is coming up,” I said in an attempt to make conversation.

  “Yep,” she said with a smile.

  “How did you meet Antoine?” I asked. I couldn’t help myself, and it seemed like a natural question.

  “Friends,” she replied. She was clearly in a one-word answer kind of mood. So rude.

  I wondered what mutual friends they had, but of course I couldn’t ask that.

  “That’s nice,” I said. “It’s good to have mutual friends.”

  Julianne said Ayla didn’t have any friends, I remembered. I wouldn’t have put it past Antoine to have an online dating profile somewhere. I laughed on the inside as I was pretty sure that’s how they met. It was the only thing that made sense.

  “So are you excited to get married?” I asked.

  She glanced up at me over her mug of steamy coffee and scrunched her eyebrows.

  “Yeah?” she said in an almost offended tone. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  She had no personality. Zero. What the hell did Antoine see in her?

  “Tell me about Antoine,” I said. “What’s he like?”

  Her demeanor instantly changed and her shoulders seemed to relax a bit while her face softened.

  “He’s wonderful,” she said. For the first time since I’d formally met her, a genuine smile spread across her full, supermodel lips. “He’s more than I could ever ask for. More than I deserve, probably. He’s my whole world.”

  “How nice,” I said. On the inside, I died a little. That described him perfectly and I knew it.

  “He’s so good to me,” she continued. “He makes me breakfast in bed on my days off. He takes me shopping and spends hours waiting while I try on the entire store. He always lets me pick the movies and the restaurants.”

  “That’s good,” I said. I didn’t know what else to say. That was Antoine for sure.

  She rambled on a bit more about how great Antoine was, but after a bit I tuned it all out. I already knew all those things.

  CHAPTER 13

  I couldn’t get out of that little coffee house fast enough. A half hour with Ayla Giovanni was a half hour too much. What the hell did Antoine see in her? She was so into herself and so self-absorbed.

  My feet carried me swiftly down the sidewalk and back towards my apartment. I picked up my phone to dial LaLa, but she didn’t answer. I wanted to vent. I wanted to tell the whole world that Ayla Giovanni was nothing but a silly, vapid girl and that Antoine was making a huge mistake. If he didn’t want to be with me, fine, but why her? Why someone so shallow?

  My fingers hovered over Kevin’s name on my phone. I still needed to thank him for the flowers. I’d sent him a text earlier, but it wasn’t the same. I bit my lip, swallowed a gulp of air, and pressed his name on the screen.

  “Hey, Liv,” he said as he picked up in the middle of the second ring.

  “Hi,” I said with a sheepish tone.

  “What’s up?”

  “I just wanted to thank you again for the pretty flowers,” I said. That and I just wanted an excuse to call him and hear his voice. “What are you up to?”

  “Just hanging out at home,” he said. “Long day at work.”

  By the sounds of his voice, he was lying
down. I was pretty sure I could hear the TV on in the background as well and it sounded like ESPN or something sports related.

  “Do you want to maybe come over tonight and hang out for a bit? LaLa’s with Demarius,” I said. I cringed. I didn’t want him to think I was insinuating anything simply because LaLa wasn’t home. I hoped he didn’t take it that way.

  “Um, sure,” he said at length. He must have been thinking about it.

  “If there’s a game on or something, I understand,” I interjected.

  “No, no,” he said. “It’s fine. I’ll be over in a bit.”

  By the time we hung up, I was climbing the stairs to my apartment. I rushed in to change into something more casual, then waited on the sofa for him to knock on the door. A good twenty minutes later and he was there, in the flesh.

  “Hey,” I said with a grin as I let him in. “Thanks for hanging out with me tonight.”

  “No problem,” he said. “I’m glad you called. I was beginning to think I’d royally screwed this up.”

  I waved my hand in front of my face and smiled. I really didn’t want to talk about last weekend. It was over and done with. No use in rehashing it.

  “Why don’t you have a seat and make yourself comfortable?” I asked while I pointed to the couch.

  He kicked off his shoes while I ran to the kitchen and retrieved an icy cold beer for him like the good little prospective girlfriend I was.

  “Oh, wow,” he said. “Thank you.”

  “I hope you like pale ale,” I said. “It’s all we have right now.”

  “Beer is beer,” he said. “This is perfect.”

  I sat down next to him and kicked my legs over his lap before handing him the remote.

  “I’m pretty sure you were watching basketball when I called you earlier,” I said with a wink.

  His face lit up. He was probably shocked that I was being so cool about everything. I could tell.

  He flipped on the T.V. and instantly tuned it to some college game. If he absolutely had to watch the game, I was glad he was going to be watching it with me.

  I grabbed one of LaLa’s many gossip magazines from the coffee table, repositioned the sofa cushion behind me, and got comfortable. If I didn’t know any better, we were settling into a relaxing Monday evening like some boring old couple. It felt good to have that with someone. I hadn’t had that for almost a year.

  The moment a commercial came across the screen, I decided to make small talk with Kevin. I couldn’t just sit there in silence all night.

  “So, long day today?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” he said as he turned towards me. At least he was engaging.

  “Wanna talk about it?” I asked with raised eyebrows. “I’m all ears.”

  “Nah, it’s okay,” he replied. He took a swig of his beer, and I saw that it was getting a little low.

  “Want another beer?” I asked, leaning forward to climb off the couch.

  “You stay there,” he said. “I’ll get it. You don’t have to wait on me.”

  “Okay,” I said with a grin. Things were definitely getting more comfortable between us, and I loved that.

  He returned with his fresh bottle of beer and sat back down, moving my legs back onto his lap.

  “So guess what I did today?” I said. “You’ll never believe this.”

  “What’s that?” he asked. The game was starting to come back on. Damn it.

  “Had coffee with Ayla Giovanni,” I said as I casually flipped the pages of my magazine.

  I glanced over at Kevin who looked like he was about to spit his beer out of his mouth.

  “How? What?” he said, perplexed. “How did that come about?”

  “Julianne approached me at work today,” I sighed. “She doesn’t think Ayla has enough friends. Or maybe she doesn’t have any at all. I don’t know. She thought I’d be a good friend for Ayla to have, and she asked me to meet Ayla for coffee after work. How could I say no to my boss?”

  “So, how’d it go?” he asked. His face was intense and he was totally tuned into me despite the game clearly playing on the T.V. screen just mere feet away.

  “Honestly?” I said as I sat up a little. “I think she’s shallow and vapid. She’s impossible to have a conversation with. She only talks about herself. She didn’t once ask anything about me, and I don’t know what anyone sees in her. There’s just, like, nothing there.”

  Kevin’s face twisted uncomfortably as he took another swig of beer.

  “That’s not exactly fair to say,” he said. “You spent, what, an hour with her?”

  “Half hour,” I corrected him.

  “Okay, so you spent a half hour with someone you don’t know, and you’re calling her a bunch of pretty harsh names,” he said. “Just seems a little extreme.”

  He turned back towards the game and turned the volume up a tiny bit. He didn’t want to have this discussion, I could tell. But I didn’t care. I wanted to know why he was sticking up for her.

  “I think she has the personality of a wet blanket,” I said. “There’s nothing special about her beyond that pretty face of hers.”

  He turned back towards me and cocked his head to the side as if to say, “Come on.”

  “I don’t know what Antoine sees in her,” I added.

  “Who’s Antoine?” he asked. “Oh, wait, her fiancé. Why do you care what he sees in her? You don’t know the guy.”

  I bit my lip. It was almost on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t tell him. I hadn’t told him when I had the chance, so I couldn’t say it now. He was better off not knowing anyway.

  “Oh!” he yelled out as he stood up. My legs flew off his lap like two limp noodles. There must have been an exciting play in the game.

  I sat up a bit and crossed my legs. I didn’t feel like being all cutesy with him after that. I couldn’t believe he was standing up for Ayla when she was clearly the most self-absorbed person in the entire world.

  I finished one magazine and picked up another. I glanced over the glossy pages of well-coiffed celebrities, read an article about how some reality star lost thirty-five pounds in two months, and reviewed a spread on nail polish trends. At least a half hour went by, and Kevin hadn’t said more than a couple words to me.

  “Care if I have another beer?” he asked.

  “Go for it,” I said, not looking up from my read.

  He returned from the kitchen once again and downed his third beer. I was a little surprised since he was a cop and had driven there. It was almost nine o’clock, and I figured he’d be trying to jet out soon.

  The moment his game ended, his demeanor completely changed.

  “So,” he said, playfully slapping my knee.

  I looked up, and he had the biggest, cheesiest grin plastered across his face.

  “Your team won?” I asked.

  He nodded with the enthusiasm of a kid at Christmas.

  “That and I’m a little buzzed,” he said. He tossed his head back and sunk deep into the couch. It was probably the most relaxed I’d ever seen him.

  “You can crash here tonight if you want,” I said. “I’m probably going to go to bed soon. Gotta work tomorrow.”

  He tossed back the rest of his beer and set the bottle on a wooden coaster.

  “If you don’t mind?” he said. His eyes were soft and gentle as he looked up at me.

  On the inside I was reeling. I loved sleepovers. I wanted to lay with him. Kiss. Cuddle. Whatever. I just hoped he wasn’t going to leave at two a.m. like he did the last time.

  I stood up and stretched my arms up high, letting out the daintiest yawn.

  “My room is back there,” I said as I pointed down the hall.

  “I remember,” he said as he followed me down the hallway.

  “I don’t have any men’s pajamas,” I said.

  “It’s fine,” he replied. He pulled off his t-shirt to reveal a plain, white undershirt. He then unbuttoned his jeans and slid them down until he was in nothing but red, plaid b
oxer shorts.

  I rifled through my pajama drawer in search of something not too raggedy. I tended to keep everything until it was holey and faded, since that’s when it was the most comfortable for sleeping.