Spiral of Bliss 01 Arouse (30 page)

“Here in town. He’s got a place on the other side of the lake. He’s a nutjob but I love him. He’s the one who convinced me to open a bookstore. He’s all about following your bliss and voodoo stuff like that.”

“What would you have done if you hadn’t opened the bookstore?” I ask.

“I dunno. I was an art major in college. Again not because it was the practical thing to do, but because my dad convinced me I should do what I wanted to do.”

“I didn’t know you were an artist.”

“I’m not. Catastrophic failures at several art shows convinced me of that.” She gives me a rueful look. “Hence the bookstore. Which now isn’t doing so great either.”

“You’ll think of a way to turn things around,” I say. “You just need a different angle.”

Allie shrugs and turns back to the computer. “Yeah, well, if you fall seven times, you get up eight, right?”

Right.

I head out around noon and walk to where I parked Dean’s car at the curb. Sunlight glints off the shallow piles of snow lining Emerald Street, and the sky arches clear and blue overhead. As I wait for the engine to warm up, I finally work up the courage to call him.

“What do you want me to do, Liv?” he asks.

My heart pounds. “I think we should go to counseling again.”

His breath escapes on a hiss, but he says, “Fine.”

I blink. “Fine?”

“Yeah, I’ll go with you, if that’s what it takes.”

The tension in my shoulders eases. I know Dean hates counseling, finds it uncomfortable and awkward. He doesn’t like the personal questions, the expectation that he’s supposed to rehash everything about his life—stuff he’s long done with. But he’s gone before for my sake, and the fact that he just agreed now gives me a surge of hope.

“Okay,” I say. “I’ll call Dr. Anderson and ask if she can refer me to someone in the area.”

“Okay.” He pauses. “I want to see you.”

“I want to see you too, but I think we both need a few days apart.”

The air on the other end of the phone vibrates with irritation. “What did Kelsey say to you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did she tell you not to see me?”

“Kelsey doesn’t tell me what to do, Dean. I can make my own decisions about us.”

“I know she told you something. What was it?”

His irritation bites at my own nerves. “We figured out that between this mess about a baby and your revelation about an ex-wife, it’s no surprise I wondered what things would be like with another man.”

His curse is so sharp that my stomach roils.

“You told her about Helen?” he snaps.

“Of course not.” I know I should stop, that this is unfair, that this will only hurt us more, but I’m suddenly flooded with images of Dean and another woman.

“No one ever talks about Helen, do they?” I ask acidly. “Not even you.”

“Goddammit, Liv.”

I take a breath and try to fight the churning emotions. I can’t stop the painful thoughts still whipping around my mind like a tornado.

I gave you everything I am. Why couldn’t you do the same for me?

“I’ll call you later this week.” It’s all I can manage to say before ending the call. I shove my phone into my satchel and head back to Kelsey’s house.

She comes home shortly before dinner after having stopped in at her office, ranting about some grad student who is doing a poor job with his computer modeling.

She changes into a caftan, then pours herself a glass of wine. After she’s done fixing a plate of chips and salsa, she sits at the counter and gives me one of her laser-beam stares.

“You talk to Professor Marvel today?” she asks.

“Yeah. We agreed not to see each other for a few days.”

She barks out a laugh. “You mean you told him you didn’t want to see him for a few days and he got all hot under the collar again.”

I groan and press my fingers against my temples. She pats my shoulder.

“He’s a guy, Liv,” she reminds me. “One who is very accustomed to getting what he wants.”

I know that all too well. I reach over to help myself to one of her chips.

“Hey, Kelsey?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you ever do anything with Dean?”

She glances at me. “Would it bug you if I did?”

I’ve never thought about it before, but I don’t have to. I don’t like to think about Dean with his many former women—and I really hate even the idea of his ex-wife—but Kelsey is different.

She’s my best friend too, and she’s gold throughout even if she can flatten you with her stare alone. If I weren’t around, I’d want Dean to be with her.

“No,” I say. “I’m just curious.”

“No.” Kelsey piles a chip with salsa and pops it into her mouth. “Dean and I have never done anything.”

“Not even in college?” I ask.

“I was into girls in college.”

This is news to me. “Really?”

“Yeah. Call it my experimental phase. Lasted two years.”

“So what… uh, what made you go back to guys?”

“Oh, a couple of studs my senior year, then a long-term boyfriend in grad school.” Kelsey flips her hair away from her face and reaches for her wineglass. “Great guy, smart as hell. Great sex too. Made me realize I preferred hard muscles and harder dicks.”

“What happened to him?”

“He wanted to get married, which obviously wasn’t my thing. Plus I got a job offer and we went our separate ways.”

She shakes her head. “Nah, Liv. Dean’s one helluva package, but we’d never screw up our friendship. And we’d be lousy together anyway. Always snarking at each other and fighting like dogs over who gets to be on top.”

It’s true Dean and I haven’t had that problem before now. We just took turns.

I reach for another chip, then drop it. I sigh and climb off the barstool.

“Hey.” Kelsey nudges me with her elbow. A crease forms between her eyebrows. “You guys will get through this.”

Two weeks ago, I would have agreed. Now I no longer know what to believe.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Dean

December 7

ive days without Liv pass like a black cloud. Kelsey called once to tell me Liv was fine, but that I needed to “get my shit together and fast.” I hung up on her.

I fucking hate the empty apartment. I hate seeing all the cheery Christmas decorations that remind me of Liv. I work late, go home and crash, then leave again at six. I’ve gotten through the days on mindless autopilot—running, coffee, lectures and seminars, grant proposals, workouts.

I don’t think about how I’ve managed to fuck everything up. I don’t think about the fact that Liv hasn’t told me when she’ll come home.
If
she’ll come home.

After I’m done with classes and meetings, I head to the gym and take out my frustration on the heavy bag. On day six of Liv being gone, I’m punching the bag so hard my knuckles and arms ache. Within minutes, I’ve worked up a sweat.

“Whoa, slugger.” Kelsey stops beside me in a tank top and workout pants, a towel thrown over her shoulder.

“Get out of my way.” I drive my fist into the bag.

“Nope. We need to talk.”

I slam the bag harder. “I don’t want to talk.”

“Too bad.”

Jab, cross, jab, cross.

“Dean.”

I take a breath and step back. “Not in the mood, Kelsey.”

“You never will be if you keep this up.” She moves in front of the bag to stop me from throwing another punch at it. “Come on. Let’s hit the treadmill.”

“I hate the treadmill.”

“I know, but it’s either that or I’ll drag you out for coffee and you’ll have to look at me while I interrogate you. Which is the worse evil?”

The woman has a point.

I grab her towel and swipe my face, then head to the row of treadmills by the window.

“Liv said it was a mistake,” Kelsey says as she starts the treadmill beside mine.

“Really? Imagine that.”

“She’s upset that you’re not letting it go.”

“You think I fucking can?” I hit the button to make the treadmill go faster. “Would you be able to?”

“She’s not the only one at fault, Dean.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake…” I shut the treadmill off, not wanting to hear what I already know.

I stalk toward the men’s locker room. She follows.

“Back off, Kelsey.”

“No.”

I shove the door open. She bangs through it after me. A few half-dressed men by their lockers stare at her. One whistles.

“Hey, lady, this is the men’s locker room,” one of them snaps.

“Shut up, asshole. You’ve got nothing I haven’t seen.” Kelsey stares him up and down. “And I mean nothing.”

The others laugh. I go to my locker around the corner, where at least there’s no one else around. Kelsey follows. She’s like a freaking parasite.

I spin the combination on my locker and wrench it open. “My marriage isn’t your business.”

“You and Liv are my business because you’re my best friends.” Kelsey steps around to face me. Her mouth is set, her eyes hard with determination. “I know how much she loves you. She wouldn’t have started thinking about a baby otherwise. And if you keep punishing her for one mistake, you’re not only going to make her miserable, you might wreck your whole marriage.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Anger flares through me, hot and fast. I slam a fist against the locker. “You think I don’t want to forget it, to pretend it never happened? I need a goddamn steak knife to carve the image out of my head. That bastard kissed my wife and she… she fucking
liked
it.”

I’m breathing hard. My heart pumps, my blood burns. Kelsey stares at me, her eyes unblinking behind her glasses.

Before I can react, she grabs the front of my sweaty T-shirt and pushes me back against the locker. Then she presses her mouth hard against mine.

What the—

Her lips pry mine open and her tongue pushes inside. She digs her fingers into my shoulders. She slides her body against mine.

Soft. She’s soft. Thin and wiry, but soft with nice breasts… and Jesus, her nipples are hard and poking against my chest. My cock twitches, swells. She presses closer. She runs her hands across my abdomen, down to my waist, then around to grip my ass.

Before I can think, I grab her hips and haul her toward me. A moan escapes her throat. I clasp the back of her neck, angle her head to a better position, and kiss her deep.

She tastes sweet, like apples and sugar. My blood simmers. Her tongue sweeps across my teeth, her breath hot.

I put my other hand on the small of her back and shove my hips against her, forcing her to feel the full length of my erection. She started it, so now she’ll get all of it.

She’s not shocked. I should have known she wouldn’t be. Instead she grinds against me and licks my lips and splays her legs over mine. If we weren’t in a men’s locker room, I wouldn’t be surprised if she started stripping.

I wouldn’t be surprised if I let her.

Kelsey thrusts her hands into my hair, then pulls her mouth away from mine and steps back.

We stare at each other, chests heaving. She looks as stunned as I feel. She swipes a hand across her lips.

“So, uh… sorry,” she mutters.

“What the hell was that?” My head is spinning. I stare at her mouth, reddened from the pressure of mine.

Kelsey pulls in a breath. “Was it good?”

“What?”

“Was that a good kiss?”

“You know it was, but what—”

“Do you get it, Dean?” Kelsey asks. “You can
like
kissing another person. It’s normal. Hell, it’s human. Just because you’re married doesn’t mean you shut off a natural, biological reaction.”

“You kissed me to make a point?”

“I made it, didn’t I?” She steps forward and puts her hand on my chest. Something softens in her sharp eyes. “Look, Dean. Liv may have thought a ten-second kiss was nice, but she loves the hell out of you. That’s why she told you, because she doesn’t want to have any secrets from you. She loves you that much, enough to confess a huge mistake. But you keep punishing her for it, and you’re going to drive her away. Do you get it?”

Her speech ricochets through my brain.
She loves you that much… you’re going to drive her away…

If six days without Liv makes me feel like this, I can’t imagine what—

“Yeah.” I force my fists to unclench. “I get it.”

“So she kissed another guy.” A slight smile curves Kelsey’s lips. “You kissed another woman. Call it even.”

“Am I supposed to tell her about this?”

“I’ll talk to her.” Kelsey turns and starts to leave. Then she stops and looks back at me. “For the record, Dean, I didn’t kiss you just to make a point.”

“Then why?”

“I always suspected it’d be good with you,” she replies. “Thanks for proving me right.”

Then with a wink, she strides through the locker room and out the door.

Fuck.

Women make me crazy.

I grab a clean shirt and jeans from my locker and head for the shower.

It’s snowing when I leave the gym. I toss my duffle in the trunk of Liv’s car and climb into the driver’s seat. I turn on the ignition, then reach down for the lever to push the seat back again. My fingers brush against some cloth.

I pick up whatever it is and pull it out from under the seat. A crumpled shirt? I unfold it. For a second, I can’t process what I’m looking at. I shake out the material. A surge of red-hot anger floods me.

It’s a white chef’s jacket. Hidden under the seat of my wife’s car.