Landon & Shay - Part Two: (The L&S Duet Book 2) Page 3

  The words that came out of his mouth made me want to leap across his desk and slug him in the face. Lance wasn’t a psycho because he struggled with his mind. He wasn’t weak because he couldn’t find his footing. How dare my father paint him in such a light? Lance was more of a man than my father could’ve ever been. It just so happened that depression swallowed him whole before he could find his light.

  “I mean, look at you, Landon. What the hell are you doing with your life? No college degree. No goals. No future. You’re following directly in the footsteps of that loser, and your mother is leading you there the same way she led him. I wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up six feet under, too.”

  Chills raced throughout my body as acid rose up my throat. How could he say that shit? How could he say he wouldn’t be shocked if I ended up dead like Lance?

  “I fucking hate you,” I spat out, feeling the rage in my gut building up more and more with each word my father spewed.

  How could someone be so cruel?

  Not a hint of remorse passed over his face. He didn’t feel bad for his words or even realize he crossed a line.

  He seemed almost smug about it, proud that he could see I’d taken a hit from his hurtful way.

  Sitting back in his chair, he crossed his arms. “You hate me because I don’t baby you like your mother does. It’s called tough love, Landon, and someone has to tell you like it is. You’ll never make it in this world without a backbone and thick skin. People will walk all over you, and not everyone will bottle-feed you like your mother. You’re nineteen years old now, and it’s about time you start acting like it.”

  “When are you going to start acting your age?” I barked back, gritting my teeth.

  “This is my age, Landon. I’m a grown man who handles his business. I get that your mother babies you, and I’m sure you have some people in your life who do the same, but it won’t always be like that. At some point, they’ll grow tired of you and won’t put up with your bullshit ways anymore. There’s a time limit for people caring about your sob story, and believe me when I say it will come quicker than you think it will. At the end of Lance’s life, how many people did he have standing at his tombstone? Pretty much no one. People don’t stick around for folks like Lance, for people like you. So, suck it up, be a man, and change who you are and how you live. Otherwise, you’ll end up alone and sad, living in your mother’s basement.”

  “Coming here was a big fucking mistake,” I muttered, standing from the chair. “I forgot what type of person you are.”

  He began typing away at his computer, unmoved. “Yes, well. Close the door on your way out.” I started walking away and listened as Dad called after me one last time. “There is one way I will consider paying your mother’s divorce bills.”

  “And that is?”

  “You go to law school like we planned. You can work here on the weekends and get your life back on the right track.”

  “I’m not going to do that.”

  “Then your mother will figure it out. Don’t come back here until you’re ready to be a real man. As long as your childish behavior continues, I want nothing to do with you.”

  “I’ll never come back here,” I swore. “And I never want to see you again. The next time I see you it will be at your damn funeral,” I murmured.

  “Or at yours,” he shot back, his words coated in sinister hatred.

  I couldn’t believe it was possible that my mother had loved a person like him.

  I left his office feeling completely defeated, and angry, and sad—really fucking sad. Not because my father was a fucking monster, but because I was unable to alleviate some stress in Mom’s life.

  She needed a break, and I didn’t have a damn clue how to get it for her.

  As I sat in my rental car outside of the law firm, I gripped the steering wheel tightly in my hands and took a few deep breaths. My heart was racing, and I tried to stop the panic building in my head as some of my father’s words played on a loop.

  I wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up six feet under, too.

  “That’s not me, that’s not me, that’s not me,” I repeated through my almost sealed shut lips. I wasn’t the weak boy my father made me out to be. I wasn’t my uncle. I was scarred but not broken.

  I held onto the steering wheel until I talked myself down from the darkness. I controlled my breaths and reduced my heart rate to a steady beat. That was something I wouldn’t have been able to do just months ago. My interaction with my father would’ve swallowed me whole for hours.

  This time, it was only minutes.

  “Did he really say that to you?” Shay asked, sitting cross-legged on my hotel bed. She came straight over to see me right after school, and I ordered a pizza for us to share.

  “Yup. He said I’d end up just like Lance—six feet under because I’m weak.”

  “What a monster.” She sighed, shaking her head. “I don’t get how someone could say something so cruel, especially to their own child.”

  “He calls it tough love.”

  “I call it blatant hate. I hope you don’t believe any of that stuff, Landon. I hope you know all those words he said are lies. Out of everyone in this whole world, you’re one of the strongest people I know. Your vulnerabilities are what make you strong, not weak, and I’m sorry your father made those hurtful comments.”

  “I’m just mad I’m not able to help my mom, that’s all.”

  Shay began blotting her pizza with a napkin.

  I cocked an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”

  “Dabbing the pizza. It’s said doing this can save up to fifty calories per slice.”

  “Sounds like some bullshit.”

  She shrugged. “I’ll do whatever it takes to save a few calories.”

  “Since when do you care anything about counting calories?”

  “Um, since I’ve gained ten pounds over the past year from stress. I can’t go to college this way and then deal with the freshman fifteen, so I’m on a diet.”

  I stared at her as if she was fucking insane because she was talking fucking insane. “You don’t need to be on a diet, Shay.”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “So, you’re giving up candy, too?”

  She shoved me in the shoulder. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  Smiling at her, I moved the plates to the side table. Then I scooted over to her and pulled her on my lap. “I love every inch and every curve of you.”

  Her lips turned up into the sweetest fucking smile. “Even if my butt turns into an Oompa Loompa?”

  “Hell yeah. I don’t know if you know this, but I consider myself an ass man through and through. I would bury my face so deep in your Oompa Loompa, I’d find myself the path to the chocolate factory.”

  “Ew.” She squirmed and giggled as she rocked her hips against mine. “That sounds like a poop reference.”

  “I’d go to the chocolate enchanted forest for you,” I joked.

  “Landon.”

  “I will eat your Tootsie Rolls.”

  “Oh my gosh. You went to California and got weird.”

  “I’ve always been weird. This is nothing new.”

  She wrinkled her nose and nodded. “That’s true. You did eat toilet paper out of another girl’s butt before.”

  “There wasn’t any toilet paper!” I pointed a stern finger at her and pushed my tongue in my cheek. “Hey, remember that day you rubbed my head instead of my…head?” I smirked, remembering her first attempt at a hand job. God, I loved that girl so much. I loved her innocence, her laughter, her mishaps, her love.

  “Shut up. I’ll have you know I’ve been working on my technique. I’ve been practicing.”

  My eyebrow shot up. “With who?”

  “Oh, you know. Randy, Jason, Jon, Henry…Walter, Nick. Mainly, any guy who crosses my path,” she remarked.

  I placed my hand on her lower back and pulled her closer to me, pressing her chest against mine. “You trying to make me jealous, Chick?” />
  “Why? Is it working?” she asked, biting her bottom lip.

  “Maybe a little.”

  She smiled and leaned in close, placing her lips against mine. “Only ever you,” she whispered before giving me a kiss. Her hands landed on my chest, sensing my heartbeats, and I hoped she knew they beat only for her.

  “I did learn some new techniques, though. Raine ordered me this…toy from an informercial.”

  My interest piqued. “A toy, huh?”

  “Don’t get too excited. It’s the same one she ordered for her nonna because her grandfather isn’t a wild stallion anymore.”

  “Well, let’s add that to the list of things I never needed to know about my friend’s grandmother. I’m going to try to block that image out of my head for the rest of my life.”

  “You know, it’s perfectly normal for the elderly to be sexually active. Did you know they are the second leading age group most likely to get STIs?”

  “It’s like you’re trying to turn me off, Chick.”

  She giggled, and dammit if I didn’t want to live with that sound forever. “Okay, sorry. Back to the toy. You see, I learned motions with it,” she explained as she started gently rocking against my crotch. She rubbed the fabric of her dress against my jeans, creating a friction of energy.

  What the hell? I knew better than to wear jeans around this girl.

  Fuck, okay. “What else did you learn?”

  “Well…this.” She pulled her dress up, making her panties press against my crotch. They were red, and lacey, and perfect, and hell, I wanted to bury my face in them before I ripped them right off her body. She began circling her hips side to side. Rocking against my ever-growing cock, she was making me lose my fucking mind. “It’s called the figure eight.”

  I closed my eyes as she worked those magical fucking hips. “I’m here for the figure eight.”

  “I think it works better with your jeans off.”

  That was all she had to say to get me to stand and toss them to the side. She removed her dress, too, leaving her in those red panties I was going to rip off and a crimson bra I was going to unhook any second now. As I returned to the bed, she climbed back into my lap and began the figure eight again, and ohmyfuck was it better with my pants off.

  Her core rubbed up and down my cock as I cupped her ass in my hands and squeezed. She had the perfect amount of ass to hold, but I swore I’d fuck around with her Oompa Loompa ass too if she had it. Her breasts were right in my face, and I shoved my face between them. One hand moved around her back to the hook of her bra, and like a magician, I undid it with one movement. She allowed the fabric to fall.

  Burying my face against her chest again, I sucked on each nipple like they were my main source of sustenance. She moaned as my tongue flicked against her, and her figure eights kept going, making my cock want to burst out of my boxer briefs.

  As I continued to worship her perfect tits, I groaned as she slowed her movements, up and down, up and down, up and…

  “I want you so bad right now,” I growled, gently biting her nipple as she moaned in pleasure.

  “I want you, too,” she whispered, moving her mouth to my ear and nibbling on it.

  “Let me make love to you.” I sighed, feeling the throbbing of my cock as she kept up with her slow movements. Note to self: Thank Raine for whatever toy she bought for Shay. Also note to self: Never think of Raine’s nonna knowing anything about the figure eight.

  “I want to make love to you,” she replied, placing a finger beneath my chin and tilting my head up to lock eyes with me. Her mouth brushed against mine, and she sucked on my bottom lip. “I want to ride you, Landon. I want to be on top, if that’s okay with you.”

  Abso-fucking-lutely.

  We removed our underwear and I lay back down. I grabbed a condom from my wallet and rolled it on. She raced her fingers up and down my chest before she rubbed her core against my hardness.

  “Fuck, Shay,” I groaned, feeling her wetness against me, feeling my want building more and more as she pressed her core to my cock. “That feels so good.”

  She wrapped her hand around my shaft and paused before sliding it into her body. “Wait—

  do you want me to turn the light off? I know you’re more comfortable with—”

  “No.” I cupped her tits in my hands and shook my head. I wanted to see all of her on top of me. I wanted to watch her ride me, take me in, own me. I wanted to see those breasts bounce up and down. I wanted to see every inch of her, every curve. I wanted all of this. I wanted to experience every second of us making love. “Fuck me with the lights on.”

  She did exactly that. I slid into her wetness, she dug her nails into my shoulder blades as her perfect tits bounced in my face, and she fucked me with the lights on.

  Never in my life had I known sex could feel so good. Never in my life had I known my heart could beat so hard for another. Never in my life had I thought love would find its way to me. Having sex with Shay Gable wasn’t just amazing, it was a damn privilege, and I hoped like hell I’d be able to make love to her for the rest of forever.

  Once we both finished, her multiple times, we lay in the bed, breathless, our bodies entangled as one. I brushed her hair from her face, and she snuggled deeper into my side.

  “Every moment with you feels like my new favorite memory,” she whispered, biting her bottom lip.

  “I don’t know how I’m going to do it tomorrow. I don’t know how I’m going to get on a plane and say goodbye to you again.”

  “Never goodbye, only good night.” She kissed my lips. “I know this might not be the most traditional way of having a relationship, but I’m okay with this, Landon. I want you to really know that. This,” she said, placing a hand over my heart, “us,”—she placed my hand against her chest—“this is us, and I love it. I love our twisted love story.”

  “Me too,” I swore. “The second I board that plane, I’m going to be daydreaming about the moment I’m able to come back to you.”

  She leaned in and kissed my lips. “I have something for you,” she said, standing up from the bed. She hurried over to her purse and pulled out a small box.

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, she opened it, revealing a heart-shaped necklace. It wasn’t like a cartoon heart, but a real fucking heart—well, half of a heart. “It came with two necklaces. I have one half, and you’ll have the other. That way, we’ll always have a piece of each other’s heart wherever we go in life.” She shyly smiled and shook her head. “I know it’s kind of corny, so if you hate it, that’s fine.”

  “Hate it?” I remarked. “Never. I love it. Will you put it around my neck?”

  She did as I said, and it shocked me how my love for that girl could keep growing every single second.

  “One day, I’m going to come back to you, and we’re going to live happily ever after, Shay.”

  She placed her forehead against mine. “Promise?” she asked, sounding hopeful and scared all at the same time.

  I kissed her lips and held her close.

  “Promise.”

  There were so many things to love about Shay, but my favorites were the small things, the little traits that most people overlooked, like the fact that she always cracked the windows of her car, even if it was twenty degrees outside. Or how when she drove, she’d crank the music up and sing so loudly and painfully bad but look so damn adorable doing it. The fact that she never knew any of the right lyrics to her favorite songs. Or how she still chewed on her collar when she was nervous. The fact that she loved animals and couldn’t walk past a dog without wanting to pet it. Or how when she was happy, she’d always state the fact out loud. She’d always say how happy and content she was even though her smile always revealed it, too.

  I loved how her desk was always covered in paperwork from her latest projects. I loved how she put a dash of coffee in her cream. I loved how she had to stand on her tiptoes to reach the top shelf of her cabinets. I loved how she’d dance around the kitchen wheneve
r she cooked a meal. I loved how no matter how long I’d been gone, how long I’d been broken, she’d still welcome me back with arms wide open.

  I loved how she loved me unconditionally. I loved how the sound of her voice could bring me back from the darkness.

  I. Loved. Her.

  Fully and completely.

  Spending those few days with her felt like a reset to my entire being. Shay Gable was my life support, and for that, I planned to someday give her the whole world. Until then, I’d give her every piece of me.

  When I left to return to Los Angeles, I struggled to let go, but I was determined to make my way back to her somehow, somewhere.

  “You know the drill, Landon. Three good things that happened in the past forty-eight hours. Go,” Dr. Smith told me as she leaned back in her swivel chair. I’d been seeing her since Mom and I got to California, and she had the laid-back vibe down to a T. I was waiting for the day she’d go full Mean Girls on me and walk in and say, There are no rules in this office. I’m not like a regular doctor. I’m a cool doctor.

  She put her feet up on her desk and tossed a stress ball back and forth in her hands as she waited for my reply.

  We’d been meeting twice a week to unpack my mental boxes, and so far, it was going all right. Even with her nontraditional practice, I knew I was getting through some of my issues.

  One of the things that helped? Three good things.

  Each time I saw Dr. Smith, I was responsible for telling her three good things that had happened in the past two days. It was a way to focus on the good things in my present instead of dwelling too much on the shitty things in my past.

  At first, I’d found it pretty hard to come up with three good things, which had made me feel like complete shit. Dr. Smith had been quick to shut down those feelings.

  “It’s not a final exam, Landon. You can’t get it wrong, and there are no right answers. You could say you got all green lights on the way over, and that works for me. That’s a good thing.”