Always (34 page)

His mind was spinning. He wanted her.
So
badly. And it was happening. It would happen, if he stepped back and just let it. But his brain, more mature and newly aware, needed more, so much more than a desperate fumble in the dark.

“Wait—” he whispered.

“I-I’m sorry. I thought— you seemed—” Justine’s voice was an unsteady rasp.

“No,
wait
.” Dillon scrambled to form a coherent thought when his body wanted to do anything but think. “Justine, I want it. I do. So much.”

Her hands released his shirt and smoothed down his chest. “So do I.”

He could feel her words like she whispered them against his skin and he closed his eyes, fighting the urge to sink into the sensation. He pulled back enough to look her in the eye.

“Yes, I want this, but only for the right reasons. You’re too important to me to blow it just because you’re lonely and you want to scratch an itch.”

Her eyes flashed in anger. “That’s not what—”

“I’m not saying it’s what this is,” he said, soothing her, his thumbs still stroking her cheeks. “But this… it’s important to me and it needs to be important to you, too, or it can’t happen. Listen.” He stopped and closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath and all the courage he could muster with it. When he opened them again, she was still there, her face as familiar to him as his own. Her wide eyes watched him in the dark, waiting. “I love you,” he said. “I’m in love with you. I have been since… Jesus, I’ve loved you forever. For so long it’s like breathing now. I can’t live and not do it.”

Justine had gone still, not even her breath disturbing the space between them. Her expression was stunned. She wasn’t even blinking.

“See? I’ve blown your mind a little with that. But now you know. And you know where I’m coming from. We can’t do this half way. I can’t, anyway. Think about it. And it’s okay if you can’t go there with me. You won’t lose me. I’ll always be your friend. But the rest… it’s a big step and it’s one I can’t take back.”

Slowly, she nodded, but she said nothing, still stunned by everything he’d just laid on her.

“I’m gonna go. We’ll talk soon, okay?”

She nodded again.

He leaned in and kissed her, this time chaste and lingering, still cradling her face in his hands.

“Good night, Justine.”

Justine stood by the front door for ten minutes after Dillon left. When she finally moved, it was only to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of wine. She settled on the couch in the sitting room, not bothering to turn on the lights. Staring at the glowing Christmas tree, she finally let herself react to the night.

Dillon loved her. Dillon was
in love
with her. Forever, he’d said.

The knowledge left her speechless. While she’d felt that way about him once, it was years ago. She’d moved on, gotten over him, married someone else, become a mother. And while lately she’d been looking at him as anything but a friend, his confession changed things.

Didn’t it?

She still wanted him. The kiss by the door had proved it without a doubt. She wanted him with a bone-deep need that shocked her. But he
loved
her. They couldn’t tumble into something physical when he felt like that.

Unless she did, too.

Hours slipped by as Justine stared into the darkness, replaying six long years of friendship. She let herself revisit the early days, and the way she’d fallen for him so hard and so fast. For years, she wouldn’t let herself dwell on those feelings because there seemed to be no future in them and they did nothing but hurt her. But now….

Alone in the middle of the night, she unlocked the secret door in her heart to see what she’d hidden away. It turned out love was difficult to exterminate. It wasn’t hard for her love for her friend, Dillon, to shift quietly back into her love for the man, Dillon. Had it ever really stopped? Was it like Dillon said— she couldn’t live and not do it? She’d always loved him; she’d just hidden it away to keep it from eating her alive.

That brought on a whole new wave of panic and eventually, tears. If she’d only held this love for Dillon in check, if it had never really left, what did it mean for Ian, the man she married? She couldn’t deny she’d loved Ian once. But she wasn’t sure anymore if he was the only man she’d loved. And God, some of the things Ian had asked her about Dillon… maybe he
knew
. Maybe she was more to blame for the end of her marriage than she realized. And if she could have made such a mess of something as serious as marriage, could she really gamble with Dillon in the same way?

Regardless of what had happened in the past, right now, he was her best friend. He was part of her family, important to all of them now. There was Grace to think about, too. What if they tried this? What if they took the leap together? And what if she failed at this relationship, too? She wasn’t sure she could face her life without Dillon in it.

As the pre-dawn hours crept in, Justine paced the length of the room, one second convinced that all she ever wanted, all she’d ever need, was Dillon, and the next positive she’d never do anything to jeopardize their friendship, even if it meant never having him that way. She chased herself in circles, eaten up with guilt, love, longing and fear.

Finally, she stood still, and imagined doing nothing, letting him go. He’d get over her eventually. She’d gotten over him and moved on, at least nominally. He’d do it, too. Eventually he’d meet someone he didn’t have all this weighty history with, and he’d go on to live his life. Without her. She might even move on, too. She’d done it once before. They might both start again with new people.

The thought was unbearable. The pain of simply imagining it was enough to nearly bring her to her knees. The idea of not having him at her side every day—
hers—
was unthinkable. In the end, she’d risk anything not to lose him.

Meggie came to the door of the pool house sleep-rumpled and in her pajamas, shocked at the sight of Justine, frantic and still in her clothes from the day before. Justine begged her to come watch Grace for the morning even though she was supposed to be off. Justine assured her she was fine before sprinting away to the garage, barefoot, and peeling out of the drive in her car. Not even the paparazzi were up and about yet.

The banging woke him while the light outside was still pearly grey. Not even full morning. Dillon groaned and rolled over. Five-thirty. It was scandalously early for anyone in this artsy enclave of Echo Park to be up and about. Maybe it was city workers or something doing road work. He closed his eyes but the banging started back up. Definitely his front door.

As he rolled out of bed and searched for yesterday’s jeans, the night before came rushing back to him. Justine’s house, and the kiss in the dark, and after that, he’d told her… well, he’d told her everything. Suddenly the presence of someone pounding on his door before dawn took on a new urgency.

He stumbled down the hall and threw the deadbolt to find Justine standing on his front porch. She was still wearing her yoga pants and tank top from the night before. Her hair was a mess, tangled and pulled back in a ponytail. But her face… she was pale and her eyes were red and watery. The second she laid eyes on him, her bottom lip started to tremble.

“Justine— What’s wrong? Where’s Grace?”

“With Meggie. She’s fine.”

“Then what—?”

“Yes,” she said in a rush, cutting him off.

“Yes?”

“Yes, I want this. All of it. With you.”

He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. When he opened them again, she was looking at him with her heart in her eyes, her face filled with fear and uncertainty. He reached for her on instinct, pulling her inside and into his arms.

“Hey, talk to me,” he murmured.

She turned her face up to his. “I love you. I have… forever. Since I met you, probably. Maybe even before that.”

Dillon shook his head. “That was a long time ago. You said—”

“I said I got over it.” Her fingers twisted nervously. “I don’t think I ever really did. Maybe it never goes away, love like that?”

He thought about his own heart, so thoroughly devoted to her, and he smiled, shaking his head. “I don’t think it does.”

He could feel her trembling all over. Her hands were shaking where they rested on his bare chest.

“You’re shaking.”

“This is big.”

“Yes, it is.”

“I’ve been up all night, thinking, pacing, crying.”

He sighed and pushed her back, gripping her shoulders. “Listen, I told you, you won’t lose me as a friend, no matter what you want. Or don’t want.”

She shook her head forcefully. “That’s not it. What you said surprised me. And freaked me out a little at first, to be honest. So yeah… I had a lot to process. And I was afraid.”

“Afraid?”

“I want this with you. But I just got a divorce. What if…” She paused to take a breath and her eyes watered again, tears spilling over. “What if I screw this up, too? What if I lose you?”

“Hey.” He pulled her in again. “I’m sorry if I freaked you out by putting it like that. I said it badly. I’m not asking you to promise me anything or make me any guarantees. Nobody can. And what happened with Ian has nothing to do with you and me.”

She nodded, but didn’t stop crying. He stroked a hand over her hair. “Were you really up all night?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on.” He slid his arm around her waist and tugged her back down the hall.

“Where are we going?”

“Bed.” She missed a step and he shot her a scowl over his shoulder. “Mind out of the gutter. You’re right. This is big. Too big for you to discuss when you’re sleep-deprived and emotional. You’re going to sleep, at least a little.”

They were in his room now, standing next to the rumpled bed, still warm from his body.

“Will you stay?” she murmured, sinking down on the edge of the bed like her legs wouldn’t hold her up anymore.

“Nowhere I’d rather be,” he replied, stretching out next to her. She rolled into his side, resting her head on his shoulder, and he wrapped an arm around her. They’d slept together like this back when they were first on tour, falling into naps on the endless bus rides plenty of times. But it had been years. And it was never exactly like this. Or maybe it had always been like this, and that was the problem all along.

Dillon wrapped his hand around her fist, curled on his chest, and held her tight until her shaking stopped and her breathing evened out. He thought about the possibility of holding her like this every night for the rest of his life and his chest wasn’t big enough for the swell of emotion he felt. He just hoped she felt it was worth the risk to try. Because now, for the first time, he was sure he did.

When Justine woke up, it was with a splash of bright, late morning sun in her eyes. She squinted and rolled her face away. And into Dillon’s hard, warm, bare chest. She came awake in an instant, the whole long night and emotional morning rushing back in.

He groaned, the sound rumbling through his chest under her cheek, and his arm tightened around her. Then he opened his eyes and shifted enough to look at her.

“Hey,” he murmured.

“Hey,” she whispered back.

“You okay?”

She smiled, a tiny curling of the corner of her mouth. He raised a hand and brushed her cheek with his knuckle. “I’m good.”

She snagged his hand and held it to her cheek. Then she turned her face, pressing a kiss into his palm.

“Justine,” he sighed.

His hand curled around the back of her neck, tugging her up until he could kiss her. This time was gentle and slow, a tentative foray into a whole new world. Justine shifted, laying her weight across his chest, threading her fingers through his hair. Dillon’s hands traveled down over her shoulders and back, finding her hips, the backs of her thighs. He finally gave himself permission to learn the feel of her in the way he’d always wanted to. He tugged and her leg slid between his. When she felt him, hard against her hip, she moaned into his mouth.

In one swift move, he’d reversed them, laying her on her back and hovering over her. His kiss was forceful, filled with years of want. Her arms circled his shoulders, pulling him closer, until he was pressing her down into the bed, until he was laying between her thighs. His mouth left hers, kissing first her cheek, then the edge of her jaw, then her neck. Justine moaned and tipped her head back.

Dillon couldn’t get enough of her. His hand was at her hip, then it was on the warm, bare skin of her waist where her tank had ridden up. Then he was pushing it higher, his fingers tracing her stomach, her ribs, the soft curve under her breast.

Justine wriggled underneath him until she could strip her tank off over her head. Dillon froze. With all the skimpy little outfits Justine wore on stage, there was very little of her body that was a mystery to him anymore. Still, seeing her thirty feet high and airbrushed was entirely different than seeing her like this, warm and soft, bathed in morning light in his bed— only for him. He couldn’t speak. She did for him.

“Kiss me.”

He did. Then he couldn’t touch her enough, his hands learning every new inch of her. She arched underneath him, pressing herself right where he was so hard and ready. He closed his eyes and hissed.

“Is this too soon?” he murmured, lips against her throat.

“It’s been six years, Dillon.”

It was the last permission he needed from her. Soon he’d slipped off the rest of her clothes and lost his jeans again. It felt unreal to him, to finally have her in his arms this way, about to take this step with her.

“Justine,” he murmured, bracing himself on his elbows and threading his fingers into her hair. “I love you.”

She reached up to hold his face, the scruff of his morning beard rough against her fingers. “I love you, too. We’re meant to be here, aren’t we?”

“We are.”

Looking back, he’d like to say his first time with Justine was epic, endless, the best performance of his rather lengthy sexual career. But it had been a year for her and longer for him. It was desperate, emotional, and over all too soon. And it meant more than it ever had before. Everything that came before, the endless blur of bodies and faces, seemed like a pointless waste of time when this—
she—
was waiting for him. It seemed like too much good fortune, that someone who’d done nearly everything wrong could come out the other side with every right thing in the world waiting for him. As he curled his body around Justine’s, he made a promise to himself to never stop being grateful for having her in his life.