“So . . .” Will clapped. “You’re leaving?”
“Yeah. It’s time to escape this place before I get buried in it.”
Will nodded, turning his head. If I hadn’t known better, I would have guessed he was gazing out the window. “You taking the girls with you?”
“Of course.”
Will nodded again. “Never coming back?”
“I thought you knew me well enough to answer that on your own.”
“You know where you’re heading, or just choosing a direction and going until the road runs out?”
“I’m taking them back to where I lived before. It’s expensive as hell to live in California, but the school district they’ll be in is really great, and I’ve already got my old job and a new apartment lined up, so as far as moves go, this one will be one of the easier ones.” I was trying to keep my tone as level as he was keeping his, but saying good-bye in a roundabout way to a person I’d cared about wasn’t conducive to even tones or relaxed expressions.
“Well, I wouldn’t be lying if I said I’m happy for you and your sisters. But I would be lying if I said I wouldn’t miss you. All of you.” Will capped his words with a smile, but it fell short.
“You’ll miss us right up until we roll out of the driveway and you get to enjoy some peace and quiet and don’t have to drop your rubber gloves and cleaner every two seconds to save us from rattlesnakes or being motorless or power outages. You’ll miss us like a cancer.” I was certain the smile I’d attempted fell about as short as Will’s. “Besides, you put in one call to Jake, and he’ll have you hooked back up in the V.I.P. room with some girl who will make you forget everything, including your name if you like.” Yeah, bitterness tasted as nasty as it felt. For all intents and purposes, I’d left Will behind, but the thought of him with another woman in any kind of capacity made me overwhelmingly nauseated.
Will’s head whipped forward. His expression froze me in place. “I went to that place for one woman. One. I didn’t and I won’t go there again for some other one.”
He might have frozen me, but the blaze igniting within me made that temporary. I tried to extinguish that blaze before I said something else I would regret, but I was too late. “For Noelle? Yeah, I heard you really took a liking to her. Oh, wait . . .” I snapped my fingers. “That’s right, I didn’t hear about it. I got to live it firsthand because Noelle was Liv and Liv was Noelle.” I let out a huff before continuing. “I mean, how much does it suck to be probably the one guy in history who was getting it on with two women, thinking he was all mad ninja, only to find out that the two women were the exact same person?”
Oh God. Why am I close to yelling? Why am I saying these vicious things all over again? I’d just apologized for them, been forgiven of them, and here I am, firing them at him all over again. Yes, I was still not over it, and yes, I probably never would be, but that was my problem, not his. Why couldn’t I just have a civil conversation with the guy, apologize, and say good-bye? Why did every moment seem to be welded by fire and tempered by ice? I knew the answer to that, of course—I’d known it for a while. I just couldn’t admit it to myself. Not after what had happened and not after accepting that these were the last few words I’d share with Will.
“And here I thought I was the blind one,” was Will’s stoic reply. No raising his voice to match mine, no lines of frustration or anger wrinkling his forehead, no follow-up to explain what he’d meant with that tiny sentence.
“What does that mean?”
“It means a lot of things.”
I bit my tongue to keep from saying more things I’d regret. That would have served me well a minute ago. “What’s in the number-one spot on that list of ‘many things’?”
Will leaned forward, clasping his hands. “You’re blinder than I am if you think I’d ever want to be with some other woman, any other woman in any kind of capacity, after meeting you.”
I sucked in a tiny breath. When I’d asked him what was number one on that list, I hadn’t guessed his answer would be anything close to that. In fact, I probably could have rolled through a thousand other possibilities before landing close to that one. “Well, technically you weren’t with another woman. You were with me, Noelle. Aka Liv Bennett. Not that you knew it at the time—”
Will burst to his feet, his knees ramming into the coffee table on the way up. I winced in sympathy pain for him, but the pain didn’t even seem to register to him.
“I’m blind, Liv. Not fucking dumb. Stop treating me like I am, because now it’s just getting insulting.”
It took me a moment to gather some kind of response to that, although none seemed to appropriate or even relevant. “But . . . But . . .” I should have just kept my mouth closed.
“I knew it was you the whole time. I knew it was you before I finally agreed to walk into Jake’s club, and I sure as hell knew it was you when I put my hands on you for the first time.”
He could just be saying that. He’s had a couple of weeks to make up a story. This could be just another angle he’s playing to pull me back in.
No. The Will I knew wouldn’t do that.
Hello, internal war. So nice to feel you back again. It’s been so long . . .
“I don’t understand.” Braiding my fingers through my hair, I dropped my head into my arms. Everything processing up there made my head feel five times as heavy.
“I knew it was you. Just like you knew it was me.”
“But, Will, I’m not . . . well, I was able to—” I was scared of mentioning it again, more from the fear of myself than him. He was right—I’d been using Will’s blindness as a crutch.
“Stand up.” Will came around the coffee table in a hurry, bumping his shins again but registering no pain on his face. Maybe he was past the point of feeling pain at this turn in the conversation, or he was just that used to bumping into things. “Come on, stand up, please.”
When he was in front of me, he held out his hands for me. Exhaling, I slid mine into his and let him pull me up. That was the closest we’d been since that last night, and while I’d hoped the charge between us would have dimmed in the wake of our turmoil and separation, as my body skimmed against his, I realized that charge had only increased.
“Close your eyes,” he said.
My eyebrows came together. “Why?”
“Just . . . please? I’m trying to prove a point here. Your cooperation would be greatly appreciated.”
I took half a step back to escape some of the charge’s hold. To say it was an unsuccessful attempt would have been a laughable understatement. “Fine. It’s not a good reason, but I’ll play along.” With those words of reluctance, I closed my eyes.
“Now . . .” Will stepped closer, until his body was running down the length of mine again. “Touch me.”
I swallowed, and my eyes flashed open. “What kind of point-proving is this? The perverted kind?”
Will let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m not asking you to touch me there or even in an intimate way. I’m just asking you to touch me, like you’d casually inspect a sweater at the store or something. Just . . . investigate me.”
“Yeah, that sounded worse.”
“Yeah, it kinda did, eh?” Half his face twisted up in a grimace before he grinned. A genuine Will Goods grin. It was one hell of a grin. “Come on. We’ve come this far. All you have to do is run your hands around me—in a very studious, non-sexual way,” he added before I could roll my eyes, “and then I’ll either have proven my point or I won’t have. Case closed.”
I bit my lip and eyed the hallway. I could just duck around him, run out that door, and be in California by midnight. I could leave it all behind like his note had suggested. Having him this close again though, I wasn’t sure I wanted to. “Fine. I’ll do it, but only because I’m positive you’ll get down on your knees and start begging if I say no.”
“See?” Will nudged me with his arm. “You do know me pretty well.”
“Yeah, yeah. Make one poi
nt at a time please.” Raising my hands, I concentrated on keeping everything I felt for Will locked in a dark prison cell until I was done with this.
“Close your eyes,” Will reminded as my fingers were a hair from grazing his chest.
Dropping my eyelids, I entered a world of darkness. Then my hands connected with him, and everything about the dark morphed until it wasn’t the darkness keeping me in place—he was. He’d become my center of gravity and foundation and wall to lean on. As my hands worked up his chest, tracing the grooves and peaks that made up Will Goods, I realized something. In my temporary state of blindness, it was as clear as anything I’d ever seen before: I could be put into a giant room void of light, filled with thousands of people, and instructed to locate Will without the aid of sight or hearing. I could use touch and touch alone to find him, and I knew with certainty as my fingers continued to follow the trails of his body that I would succeed again and again . . . and again.
I didn’t need to see him to know he was in front of me. I certainly didn’t need to hear him. All I needed to do was let go and feel him. As my hands continued their investigation, I realized it wasn’t so much what I was touching that told me this was Will . . . It was how I felt being near him, what I felt in his presence, what I sensed when I let my defenses down and opened myself up to the bond that had tied Will and me together since the moment we’d met. I realized something else—that bond couldn’t be severed. I’d always feel some sort of tie to Will whether we spent our lives together or apart.
God, I’d missed it the entire time. It had taken an experiment in blindness to get me to see the truth. Will had known I was both girls. He knew the whole time, and all the anger and frustration I’d pinned on believing otherwise was released and repinned on something else . . . on someone else. Me.
“You have my permission to hate me for the rest of my life. I deserve that times infinity and more.” I dropped my hands and opened my eyes.
“I don’t allow hate in my heart. Especially for someone like you, Liv.” Will looked like he wanted to say more, or pull me back to him, but instead he backed toward the couch.
As he sat on it, I collapsed into the chair. I was exhausted—emotionally, physically, and mentally. The Holy Trinity of exhaustion, nice to make your acquaintance. Not.
“And now I’ve got something else to apologize for. Something really, really terrible I accused you of when . . . you’re right, I should have known better. I should have trusted my gut. I should have trusted you.” I wanted to beat myself. Hard and repeatedly. I wanted a punching bag likeness of Liv Bennett so I could strap on a pair of boxing gloves and get busy. I’d ruined—smashed into fucking smithereens—one of the few great things to happen in my life. “Why don’t I just apologize for being me? Would that be enough of an all-encompassing apology? Will Goods, I apologize for being Liv Bennett and doing a fine job at attempting to ruin your life.”
The skin between Will’s eyebrows creased. “You didn’t ruin me, Liv. Remember? I already came damaged.” He extended his arms. “I’m damaged goods.”
I’d never witnessed Will give in to self-pity, and watching it now while realizing I was the one to blame for his lapse into it made me hate myself even more. I needed to go—for so many reasons. But I couldn’t force myself out that door yet. So I stalled. “How did you know it was me before you even came in that night?”
Will inhaled slowly before answering. “When Jake called me that Friday, like he’d been calling me every week for months, his attempt to entice me in was by mentioning this new girl he’d just brought on. This new girl working her first night.” Will folded his hands behind his head and leaned back into them. “He described her as this girl-next-door type, although one like no girl he’d ever grown up next to. Kind of ironic, since I did pretty much grow up next door to you.” Will smiled for a brief moment. “He said you’d just moved back to town and were so damn gorgeous he couldn’t decide if he should raise his hands and thank the heavens or make a deal with the devil. After running into you that night on your first night to work at an undisclosed location, it didn’t take a genius to figure it out.”
“And on those few vague details alone, you were a hundred-percent certain this new girl would be me?” I asked with a hint of doubt.
Will shrugged, his smile growing. “Jake might have accidentally slipped and said your real first name when I asked what it was. That might have really solidified it for me.”
I groaned.
“You can call Jake to confirm it if you want,” Will said, mistaking my groan for something else.
It wasn’t because I suspected him of lying; it was because I was upset at myself for not giving him a second to defend himself when I’d come at him with all barrels blazing. If I’d only let him tell his side of the story . . . things might have been different. And maybe nothing would be different. Who the hell knows, but I did know something, and that was that I didn’t need to call Jake to confirm Will’s story.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” I asked.
Will’s gaze shifted from the ceiling to me. It was uncanny how he managed to look me close to in the eye every time he tried. In those penetrating instances, he wasn’t blind. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
I knew why, but there wasn’t enough time left in the day to attempt to explain it.
After a moment, Will continued, “Probably for some of the same reasons I didn’t say anything to you. We knew it was temporary because you didn’t want to be tied down to any guy, and I knew that, despite my best efforts, some things about me just wouldn’t not tie you down some. Or at least slow you down a bit.” Will indicated at his eyes. If they’d been responsible for slowing him down, I couldn’t imagine how quickly he’d flashed through life before. “In the club, I could pretend that you wanted me and I could have you. I could forget about being a man who’s supposed to be in his prime, yet strapped down with the burden of a serious physical limitation and an aging, mentally ill mother, and I could believe that I deserved a girl like you. A selfless, compassionate one who had the world at her fingertips. For me . . . in there . . . I could live my dreams, and if that was the only place I could, I didn’t hold back.”
There was that description again. It was a dream, a fantasy, a break from reality. We’d both arrived at a very similar explanation for what had happened during those nights at The Body Shop. “Okay, now I know you thought you were with another girl because the one you’re describing is not me,” I replied, interrupting my thoughts.
Will chuckled softly. “I should have known airtight evidence wouldn’t be enough to convince you of the truth.”
I knew there was so much more I needed to say. I knew I only had a million and a half questions left to be answered. I knew I didn’t want to say good-bye, but where did knowing any of that leave us? I had to go, and he had to stay. I had to get out for my sisters, and he had to stay behind for his mother. Without realizing the stars had had anything to do with it, somewhere along the way, ours had crossed.
I felt like every step of our journey to one another, wall after wall had been dropped in our individual paths. We’d broken through so many, but this last one was unbreakable. Instead of being trapped between a rock and a hard place, Will and I were trapped behind our own walls. We could go in any direction, just not in each other’s. To date, it was the most heartbreaking realization I’d had.
“Will—”
Mrs. Goods’s shrill voice erupted from down the hall. “Will! Grab the mixer and bring it in here, sweetie! Those little monkeys broke out of the walls again!”
Will took a labored breath, rubbing his temples. “I’ll be there in a minute, Ma.”
All of the exhaustion and gray shadows I’d seen on Will’s face when I first arrived came back. I couldn’t imagine how depleting it was to cater to the physical needs, as well as the mental needs, of someone like Mrs. Goods. I couldn’t imagine it, but Will’s expression explained it pretty well.
“Liv? What w
as it you were about to say?”
“Oh . . . uh . . .” What had I been about to say? So much. So much I probably shouldn’t. So much I simply can’t. “Just, I guess, that I’m sorry again . . . and thank you for taking the time to talk.” I was an insufferable coward.
If Will had been under the impression that I was going to say something else, he didn’t show it. “I’ll echo all of those sentiments right back at you.” Will rose, smiled perhaps the smallest one I’d seen on him yet, and headed for the hallway after another shout for him thundered down it. “I’m sorry, and thank you too.”
Will was about to walk away, and I’d never see him again. The man I’d fallen for, despite every attempt against it—the man I’d tried to push away with my steely character, then by trying to drown my feelings for him, and finally by accusing him of some horrible things. I’d been pushing him away—and he was finally giving in. Just when I knew I didn’t want him to. I’d had to make about every single mistake I could along the way to realize Will wasn’t just another guy. He was the guy.
And there he was, saying a silent good-bye.
“Will, wait.” I shoved out of the chair and hurried toward him.
I grabbed his arm right as he reached the hall and spun him around. He didn’t look surprised by my abruptness or irritated that I’d stopped him. Instead, he looked almost sad. Like he already knew what was coming.
“Come with us. Come with me.” I hadn’t known those exact words were coming, but I didn’t regret them. In fact, I was relieved they’d finally formed.
Will’s forehead wrinkled as his eyes sealed shut. From the looks of it, my words had been painful. “I can’t, Liv.”
“But do you want to?” I moved closer to him. I wasn’t taking no for an answer, not now.
“If I want to and if I can are two opposite things right now.” Will stepped back.
I took one more step forward. “But you want to?”