Not About Love (This Love Book 2) Read online

  “You say that, but I know deep in your heart you don’t want to.”

  As much as it pained me to admit it, she was right. I did like having him around. The nights were bliss, as were the mornings, but how long could this go on?

  Indefinitely.

  The word popped up in my head and I wished I could destroy it with a sledgehammer. It sounded so familiar. Indefinitely…it took me forever to remember why. It was the very last word from the movie Notting Hill, which I loved—but we weren’t Julia Roberts and Hugh Grant. There wasn’t a love story here. He was just in Amsterdam for the time being because he was opening a gym. I was sure he was going to leave as soon as his latest venture was finished. He had a life away from here, and I was just a welcome distraction.

  “I’ve seen you two together…the chemistry is off the charts.” She wasn’t wrong about that. “Who knows, it might not be love now, but it could grow into that.”

  “Whatever is going on between us is not about love. It’s just sex, plain and simple. You’ve got it wrong,” I replied in a bitter tone, but my heart was beating so fast, I knew it was already too late. My heart was starting to believe this could work out. My stupid heart wanted a happy ending so badly, but I knew happy endings were just myths our heads were filled with when we were kids.

  I decided fairytales should be banned.

  I had everything I wanted. I didn’t need anyone. Things were just fine as they were…so why did my heart feel the need to remind me that it could be so much more? It didn’t work that way. I swallowed the knot in my throat as tears filled my eyes. I stood up so she couldn’t see me crying and wiped my tears away.

  “Ella, I have to get back to work. I’ve got a lot to do.”

  “Hey, I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry, Ally. I won’t talk about him any more if it bothers you,” she replied in a resigned tone.

  “No, it’s fine. I’m fine. But honestly, there’s nothing else going on, so please stop asking…don’t put any ideas in my head, okay?” She nodded, and after a bit we said goodbye. I tried to forget all the things Ella had said about me and Boyd, but in a way, it was too late. My heart was already on a high, and I had to keep telling myself to be realistic. We were having fun now, but pretty soon he’d go back home and then…who knew when we’d see each other again. I tried to pretend the idea of him leaving didn’t make me immensely sad.

  * * *

  “It’s my last night in town, let’s go out to celebrate,” Boyd said. A week had gone by since my quasi-meltdown during the Skype call with Ella.

  I wasn’t ready for him to leave. His stay had been shorter than expected. Everything had gone according to plan while he was overseeing the construction of the gym—seriously, when does that ever happen? —and he had changed his ticket to go take care of some stuff in New York. He said he’d be back later in the summer, but that wasn’t enough to cheer me up. The week had been awful. I had tried to make excuses almost every day, but had failed.

  He always managed to convince me to meet him for dinner, and inevitably we would end up in bed, but I had started putting some distance between us. I didn’t let him stay over any more. Instead, I would stay at his place and leave in the middle of the night.

  I lied to him, telling him I was busy with work.

  Celebrate what? Him leaving? Celebrate the fact my bed was going to be cold and empty for the foreseeable future? I had nothing to celebrate.

  I nodded and put on the best fake smile I could muster.

  “Sure, let’s do that.”

  We hopped from bar to bar drinking everything in sight. We walked from place to place with our arms around each other. I was intoxicated by the alcohol and by him. It felt wonderful to walk the canals of Amsterdam with his arm around me, but I felt too vulnerable. Inside, I was crumbling.

  This, whatever this was, had become too much for me. I recognized the signs.

  It was the way my heart jumped when I spotted him in a crowd, or when he looked at me and smiled. It was his fault. After spending a few weeks together, I had gotten to see other sides of him. I loved the hard worker in him. I had made the mistake of stopping by the gym a couple of times, and it was impossible to ignore his enthusiasm, his passion. It was infectious.

  And he was an Excel wizard.

  Who would have guessed?

  I’d had a minor billing crisis, and he had helped me fix some of my spreadsheets.

  He had shrugged it off, saying he’d had to learn how to use the program for his business.

  It was hard to let go, but I had to. He was leaving.

  I knew getting drunk wasn’t a good idea, but every time he asked what I wanted to drink, I replied with “I’ll have what you’re having.” Each time the corners of his lips would curve up, and his smile made those eyes of his look even more inviting. I was hoping the burn of the alcohol would erase the sadness expanding in my chest like a black mass.

  We were drinking whiskey, neat, but alas, not even the strongest whiskey made my sour mood go away. I felt as if I were on the precipice of an abyss of sadness more and more with each drink, but I couldn’t stop. I had to keep up appearances. I couldn’t let my guard down with him. I couldn’t let him know what was going on inside my head.

  I stared at my glass for the longest time. I could hardly even look at his face any more. He noticed and moved my hair back. He started massaging my neck, slowly, gently. My tense muscles started relaxing and responding to his touch. He leaned closer to me.

  His voice was a soft caress on my face. “Are you okay?” he asked. I nodded, but I suddenly felt tears stinging my eyes. Oh, no. “Is it the whiskey? Is it too strong for you, Red?” He laughed.

  I let out a loud breath and tried to regain my composure.

  “Maybe. We should have had something to eat first. What were we thinking?”

  “Shit. Are you going to get sick?” He sounded worried.

  I bit my lip and got off the barstool.

  “I just need to use the restroom. I’ll be right back.” I barely got the words out before I ran away from him, never looking at his face.

  I used the restroom, washed my hands, and ran my forearms under the cold water.

  Calm down.

  I wanted to splash water on my face, but I didn’t want my makeup to become an abstract painting. I fixed the smudged eyeliner at the corners of my eyes and tried out a couple fake smiles in the mirror.

  You got comfortable. You got used to him. You shouldn’t have.

  I was fierce, independent, and beautiful…I didn’t need anyone. I gave myself a pep talk and walked out of the restroom.

  I was determined to turn the evening around. I even started swinging and moving to the music as I walked back to the bar.

  But when I saw him, my mood plummeted again.

  Boyd was where I had left him, and a skinny blonde waitress was talking to him.

  Of course.

  As soon as he saw me walk toward him, his attention shifted to me.

  The waitress gave me a nasty look, and I glared at her. Boyd noticed and laughed quietly to himself. Catfights were so not my thing, but I couldn’t help feeling a little territorial. Dammit. I was freaking jealous. Luckily, the bitchy blonde left on her own.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m sorry, did I interrupt something? I didn’t mean to. By all means, carry on. I’ll see you around.” I tried to walk away, but he grabbed my wrist before I could even take a step and forced me to look at him. I narrowed my eyes.

  “Ally, come on. I’m here with you.”

  I shrugged. I was acting like a butthead, but I couldn’t help it.

  “You’re free to do whatever you want. It’s not like we have a binding contract.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about? We don’t have a contract, but I thought it was implied we’d be exclusive…at least while I was here.”

  “But you’re about to leave, so I release you from…whatever implications or…obligations you thought you
had.” Good gosh, I couldn’t even think. I was just one drink away from slurring my speech.

  He tilted my chin up and forced me to look at him.

  “What’s gotten into you? You’re not the jealous type.”

  Maybe I am. I had seen him talking to that girl and that was all it took for me to get fired up. I could have blamed it on the fact that I was drunk—it was a weak excuse, but I was willing to use it. I knew I was one moment away from saying things I should never ever say, like confessing to the guy I had been casually seeing that I cared for him more than I wanted to admit. I wanted to kick the words out of my head, but they were right there, on the tip of my tongue, itching to be said out loud.

  “I don’t want to talk to any other woman. I don’t want to fuck any other woman,” he said with a growl, dangerously close to my face. He pulled me toward him so I was just a few inches away from his lips.

  “I want to go back to your place and fuck you senseless, all night,” he said in my ear. He smelled like whiskey, but so did I, and I wanted nothing more than one more taste of him. His hand moved to the small of my back and then to my ass, where it stayed. His fingers moved rhythmically to the music, driving me crazy.

  Maybe I’d had enough of keeping the words inside me. I wanted to ask him so many things, like why he kept coming back to me.

  “What happened to your one-time rule, Boyd?” I asked against my better judgement. We stared at each other, but he didn’t answer. He opened his mouth, shut it again, and looked down to the floor. His hand left my back. “Because, just in case you hadn’t noticed, we’ve broken it about a hundred times…” I added.

  He rubbed his beard and laughed. “What can I say? I like you enough to break my rule. You should feel honored,” he joked, trying to make light of it.

  I should have dropped the subject, but my intoxicated mind wouldn’t let me. The alcohol was pushing out words I had been thinking for weeks but had never considered saying out loud. I stepped off my stool and stood right between his legs. I leaned against his body, deliberately trying to get a rise out of him. I leaned in, almost kissing him.

  He tried to catch my lips, but I didn’t let him, tilting my head back. The corner of his mouth twitched up, and his hands squeezed my ass.

  “Bertie, you’re such a tease.” His voice was gravelly, a low rumble that stirred my insides. I didn’t laugh or smile, and he frowned.

  I couldn’t stop myself. I still had things to say.

  “You know exactly why you keep coming back to me, Boyd.” I tipped my chin up, and our eyes locked. I knew I was provoking him, but I couldn’t help it. As my words sank in, his eyes became glassy, and his lips pressed into a hard line. My declaration had made him uncomfortable. His chest rose as he took a deep breath. There was this part of me that kept screaming this was a terrible, horrible idea, but the drunk part was down for the argument. The drunk part was down for the fight.

  I wanted the truth. I wanted honesty. I wanted him to tell me why.

  I stared at his chest and straightened my shoulders as I got out the words I had been sitting on for days.

  “You keep coming back to me because I’m different from all the other ones. Let’s face it: on paper, we don’t make any sense. We’re like night and day…we don’t even have that much in common…but when we’re together, it feels right. You like that I’m independent. You like me way more than any other woman, but I can also sense that you’re upset with yourself for letting your guard down with me…and I hate that. I hate that you think of me as a regret…but then I see it in your eyes…you want me. You want me, against your better judgement. You keep wanting me, and you…you can’t say no to this—whatever this is—but you keep struggling. You wish you could let go and surrender completely. I know. I see it. There’s this…this part of you that never lets me in.”

  I wasn’t sure if I was describing Boyd’s feelings or mine any more. I had been struggling with the same thing. I wanted him, and I wanted to get rid of him. I didn’t want to…feel. I didn’t want to feel for anyone. I wanted to preserve my heart, and I knew he was trying to do the same.

  Was the girl in the picture I’d seen at his parents’ house the same one who’d broken his heart? Now that I had let everything out, I couldn’t look at his face, but I could feel his eyes on me. I took a deep breath and pushed my thoughts through my muddled brain, high on alcohol and Boyd. “I don’t even know what kind of point I’m trying to make here…but can we at least stop lying to ourselves? You like me. I like you. I’m not asking you to make any kind of commitment, because, let’s face it…we don’t even live on the same side of the world.”

  My hands were on his chest, and I didn’t know if I should just let go and walk away or keep pushing. I had said what I wanted to say, but I wasn’t sure I had really made my point.

  I felt his breath wash over my face like a hot caress. He finally spoke.

  “If it’s not commitment you’re looking for, what is it that you want, Ally?” His voice was low and unsteady.

  I didn’t even know. What do I want from him? I wanted honesty. I wanted him to admit I was important to him, that he wouldn’t forget me. The way his voice broke told me my words had the desired effect. I glanced at him, and I stared at his beautiful brown eyes. There was no joy or amusement in them…it was something else.

  Dread. Fear of letting his walls come down.

  I took his hands in mine, and I gave them a gentle squeeze.

  “Give yourself to me. Don’t hold back. Let me in. Give me every part of you…tonight. Don’t just give me your body…give me your heart. Just tonight. Let me love you, Boyd.”

  “Ally, I don’t know…” He frowned and inhaled a deep breath. He let go of my hands, and my shoulders sank. I expected him to turn around and walk away after I said the L word. He’s going to walk away and you’ll never see him again. I felt him put some distance between us, and the ache inside my chest got stronger. I had done it. I had fucked it all up. I was resigned to watching him walk away.

  Instead, his hands circled my waist and then went up to my back. Soon, they found their way under my shirt. His fingertips caressed my skin, moving in slow circles, making me shiver. I looked up and he seemed amused by my reaction. I searched his expression, trying to find the traces of the man who—like me—was afraid of commitment. All I could see, instead, was a man with a determined look in his eyes. He lowered his forehead to mine, and the tip of his nose brushed against me. His beard tickled my chin then he brought his mouth to my ear.

  “Is that what you want?” he asked, his low growl vibrating through my body. Excitement coursed through my veins, and I felt the all too familiar wetness in my panties caused by his words and his touch.

  “I want you. I want all of you,” I pleaded. He looked into my eyes and nodded. He got the attention of the waiter and paid our tab. As soon as he was done, he took my hand and we left the bar.

  We walked in silence for a bit, hand in hand, both of us in some sort of drunken daze. Suddenly, my stomach grumbled. It was one of those loud grumbles that starts from the pit of your stomach and echoes throughout your whole body. It was so loud, I thought he might even hear it. I stopped dead in my tracks. I turned to him and the smug look on his face told me he had heard it.

  Any other time, I would have died of embarrassment, but I had said plenty of embarrassing things already. This was nothing.

  “Something wrong, Red?” he asked with a grin, barely able to hold back his laugh.

  I scowled at him. “We didn’t get anything to eat.”

  “Do you really want to go eat somewhere?” he asked in a flat tone. He didn’t seem too excited about the possibility, and neither was I. What I was ready for was spending a long, sinful night with my legs wrapped around him. I didn’t want to waste any more time; I was afraid anything else might break the spell.

  I shook my head no and looked down. “I want to go home,” I said, feeling my cheeks flush. Thankfully, it was dark enough that he wouldn’
t notice.

  However, something about my response tipped him off. He grabbed a handful of my hair, forcing me to look at him, and leaned down, grazing my lips with his. His beard brushed against my skin and he gave me a full, wet kiss. He cradled my head so I couldn’t escape him or his tongue as he owned every part of me. He only let go once we were both breathless. I inhaled deeply after our kiss broke, trying to regain some semblance of composure. I noticed him looking at our surroundings. A moment later, his dark frown turned into a smile.

  “I know exactly where to go.”

  WE BOUGHT AN OBSCENE NUMBER of donuts from a nearby place I had completely forgotten about and headed home. We weren’t going to be hungry any more.

  We were going to get sick.

  We ran up the stairs of my house and alternated taking our clothes off and feeding each other. He fed me a donut hole and I sucked the sugar off his thumb, giving him a playful look. I saw him swallow, and he let out a deep growl. He smirked and as my eyes traveled south of his happy trail, I saw he was already hard. I needed to do something about that. I grabbed him by his boxers to pull them down, but he stopped my hand and gave me a devilish grin.

  “Later, sweetheart,” he said. “You need to feed me first.” He looked so different now from the guy I had been talking to in the bar. There was absolutely no trace of worry on his face; he was as playful as ever. I was afraid, though, that this sex-and-eating game we were engaging in was the opposite of what I had in mind. I wanted Boyd to give himself to me, not hide behind another sex gimmick, but I played the part and did as he asked.

  We sat on the bed and he pushed me back on the mattress. He placed the box of donuts right next to us.

  I fed him a crème filled donut and when the filling fell on my stomach, he licked me clean. Apparently, that gave him a brilliant idea. He had stopped me from touching him, but he wasted no time in getting rid of my underwear and kneeled down in front of me. He started licking and teasing every inch of my skin, and my swollen center was throbbing with anticipation. His hands kneaded the flesh of my hips. I knew how much he loved my curves; he made me feel beautiful.