Read As Long as You Love Me Page 7


  “The woman doesn’t give you enough credit,” I said absently. “Nobody does.”

  He shot me a shy, pleased smile, and his response came out soft, hesitant. “I...like hearing that.”

  “It’s the truth,” I said around a bite of sandwich, before I could think better of it.

  Sexy. Talk with your mouth full, Lauren.

  But he wasn’t even looking at me. Rob tilted his head back, staring up at the ceiling with an inscrutable look. “Until we started hanging out, I didn’t even know how bad I felt. Like, it was normal.” He curled a fist and set it against his chest. “To have a knot here constantly. But the more I talk to you, the looser it gets. Until I can’t feel it anymore, and it’s like I’m taking my first deep breath in a long time. Did you ever have that?”

  “You mean not realizing something hurt until it stopped?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Leaving school was like that. I didn’t want to admit I was different. You know how many mornings I freaked out silently about going to class?”

  “Because you hate being around people?”

  It was impressive he knew that. Even Nadia had bought it when I reinvented myself in high school, changing my personality, my habits, everything. She never questioned that I’d turned into a social butterfly when, in fact, I was just a caterpillar with a pretty parachute. But ultimately, living a lie made me miserable. With my personality, there was no way I could work as a lobbyist without a constant barrage of anxiety attacks.

  I nodded. “And you know, maybe I should be strong, get over it and be normal. But that feels like shaving my edges to fit in the wrong slot.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with you,” Rob said. “It’s not like you’re afraid to leave the house or can’t buy milk from the Stop & Go. So what if you don’t like people?”

  That much was true. My social anxiety didn’t prevent me from accomplishing routine tasks. It was more that I’d realized that being a lobbyist would require constant interaction on a level that horrified me. As for college, I hated the parties that other people seemed to view as the Holy Grail, and the only way I could cope was to become someone else. Also, I drank a lot, more than I’d liked to admit. Though I wasn’t a full-on lush when I left, I could’ve easily turned into one of those people never spotted without a glass of wine.

  “I was just in denial,” I said.

  “About what?”

  “The fact that I’m computer dork and always will be. I’m more comfortable behind a screen than joking around at a party. Only booze makes the latter possible. And drinking led me to some questionable life choices.”

  “Like what?” I could tell from Rob’s expression that he didn’t expect me to say anything truly shocking.

  How cute, Lauren thinks she has a dark past.

  It wasn’t like I’d killed anybody, but I did feel bad about hurting Max, my former housemate. I hadn’t realized he really liked me until it was too late.

  A contrary impulse made me mutter, “Fucking my roommate, for example.”

  “Why was that dumb?” From the slight widening of his eyes, he hadn’t expected me to bring up sex; he radiated a sort of reluctant curiosity.

  “For so many reasons. But that wasn’t the stupidest thing I ever did.”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t ask.” Finally, Rob was looking at me as if he understood this wasn’t a joke, and I wasn’t playing around.

  I shrugged. “So don’t.”

  “But now I’m curious.”

  “Well?” I prompted. “Are you asking?”

  “I guess I am.” He shifted to face me, eyes steady on mine.

  Was I really telling him this? Nadia didn’t even know. But the scare convinced me I had to rethink everything, coming on the heels of another blunder. I couldn’t tell him about that one.

  “Drunk Lauren got caught—by a cop—while giving a BJ in a moving vehicle. That’s a misdemeanor, by the way. Indecent exposure and reckless driving.”

  “Did you get arrested?” That wasn’t what I expected him to ask.

  “The cop gave us both a Breathalyzer test. Luckily, the guy I was with passed. I didn’t. The officer decided my judgment was impaired and let me off with a warning.” I couldn’t face Rob, so I stared at my hands, preparing for the brotherly lecture about my abysmal behavior that was sure to follow.

  “I can’t talk about this with you,” he said huskily.

  I raised my head, puzzled. “Why not?”

  His eyes were storm-dark, not angry. Something else. An emotion I’d never seen in Rob. “I’m human, Lauren. Damn. Like you said before, I’m not your brother, and that mental picture? It’s...distracting.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Oh.” Since I’d almost resigned myself to the idea that Rob would never see me the way I viewed him, I had no idea what else to say.

  His cheeks reddened. “Great. Now you think I’m a perv.”

  “Are you kidding? No. But I didn’t tell you that story to...entice you or whatever.” Though if I’d thought of it and had known it would work, I probably would have.

  “You have more sense.”

  “I do?” I raised a brow.

  “Definitely.”

  “I’m not even sure what we’re talking about here.”

  Rob sighed, setting his plate on the bookshelf behind us. “I’m saying I understand that you’d never go for me, that’s all.”

  I couldn’t read his tone; it bothered me, but there was a complex assortment of emotions striving for supremacy, too many to be easily sorted. So I studied his face, hoping for a clue, but his features were impassive, except for the fact that he couldn’t hold my gaze. His lashes swept down, effectively severing eye contact.

  “You don’t know that.” Maybe it wasn’t good for my pride, but they said the truth shall set you free, right? Maybe partial honesty could earn me a day or two of liberty. “I had a real thing for you when I was thirteen.”

  A fleeting smile curved his mouth. “I know. You were pretty obvious about it. The year I was seventeen, you didn’t say a single word to me without stuttering and turning red.”

  “Well, there you go, then. At any moment, I could leap on the opportunity to make my adolescent fantasies come true.”

  He shook his head. “Funny, but no. Girls don’t want me once they grow up. Or after they get to know me.”

  “Are you crazy?” I demanded.

  “It’s the truth, Lauren. I’m not a guy women dream of settling down with.... They don’t go out with me once, then start planning our futures. I’m the one they sleep with before they meet Mr. Right. Anyone who ends up with me, she’ll just be settling.”

  I’d noticed that Rob didn’t have a lot of confidence, but this was the first time I realized how deep the fissure in his psyche ran. “That’s absolute bullshit.”

  “You think I haven’t seen it often enough to work out the pattern? I’m the fling, the rebound guy. Sometimes they use me to make someone else jealous because I make good arm candy. But I never get the girl at the end.”

  “Maybe you’re reading the wrong stories,” I said softly, then swallowed, battling a rabble of butterflies. Confessing this didn’t mean I was asking him to date me; it just seemed like his ego needed a boost. “If I was writing the book, you’d definitely be the main love interest. You’re sweet, funny, considerate, protective—”

  “All of those qualities could apply to a German shepherd.”

  “Not considerate. Big dogs get fur and mud all over the place without a second thought. Probably, they’d tip over the garbage, too.” I didn’t mention his hotness. Rob had heard enough about his appearance to last a lifetime. “You’re also ingenious and hardworking, plus you have this extraordinary ability to see things other people miss.”

  “I kn
ow you’re just trying to cheer me up, but...it’s working.” His smile did ridiculous things to me. Really, his mouth should come with a warning label.

  “Yeah? Good. Now I don’t want to hear any more crap from you, Robert Clayton Conrad. I happen to think you’re wonderful, and my opinions are always right.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Ask anyone. Nadia will back me up.”

  He laughed. “That’s no fair. You guys have been teaming up against me for years.”

  But he seemed much more upbeat when we went back to work. When he dropped me off at home several hours later, he confirmed, “Interview tomorrow?”

  “Yeah. I’ll be ready.”

  “I’ll be here at half past.”

  My mom was home when I came in. She had dinner on the table and there was a strange man adding the silverware. His back was to me so I only saw that he had narrow shoulders. Since I knew about Stuart, I wasn’t shocked exactly, but I did stop short.

  Damn, some warning would’ve been nice.

  “I need to wash up before I’m presentable,” I called, heading straight up the stairs.

  “Okay, the rolls need ten more minutes anyway.”

  Wow, if she was baking fresh bread, it meant she really wanted the meal to go well. In my mom’s mind, fresh-baked goods equaled fancy. I didn’t necessarily disagree with her. So I took a quick, second shower to rinse off the remodeling sweat and blow-dried my hair just enough so I didn’t look like I just got back from the gym. Then I put on a decent pair of jeans and a nice sweater.

  They were drinking wine in the living room when I came down. Stuart stood up as soon as he saw me, a sign of impeccable manners. He was in his late thirties, I guessed, which meant he was somewhat younger than my mom, but not enough of an age gap for it to seem like she was in the market for a boy toy. Plus, he wasn’t the type, physically: medium height, thinning dark hair, average features with a bony build. He also wore glasses and he seemed really anxious about his tie. By the look of him, I guessed he had Chinese heritage.

  “Nice to meet you.” I offered a hand for him to shake.

  “Likewise.” His palms were sweaty, which meant he was nervous. “I’m Stuart Lee.”

  I extrapolated that he cared about making a good impression. Since my mom liked him, it was enough for me to give him a fair shot. She hovered until I caught her eye and smiled; she relaxed visibly and hustled us both into the kitchen, where she had chicken stew simmering on low. I helped her dish it up and then she rescued the bread. As we were using the fine dishes, I was glad I’d swiped on some makeup.

  We ate a few bites in awkward silence before Stuart waded in with his game face on. “Miriam tells me you’re starting at a new college this summer.”

  “Yeah.” Through the main course, I explained my plans, trying to sound friendly and welcoming, even when the answers to his questions were obvious.

  “I hear computer science is a great field to get into,” he said. “Lots of growth.”

  “So I hear. How’s the insurance game?”

  “Steady. Auto insurance is required by law, and the older people get, the more they worry about death benefits.”

  Depressing dinner conversation, but his words had the ring of truth. “I can imagine.”

  “When you add in home owners, renters and those who need flood insurance, I have a pretty steady stream of customers.” He was trying to sound jovial. “And I get a lot of referrals, too. Once you build a rapport with people, they tell their friends about you.”

  My mom wore a frozen, slightly desperate look, as if she’d noticed that the conversation was a beached and dying whale but she didn’t know how to shove the unwieldy thing back into the ocean. “But there’s more to life than work, am I right? My favorite thing about Stuart is his incredible Frank Sinatra voice.”

  That was interesting. “You sing?”

  He blushed a little, and I saw what drew my mom to him; there was the sweetness she’d mentioned. “Not professionally.”

  Mom put in, “We met at karaoke. Stuart was on stage when I came in, and I just kind of...forgot to sit down.”

  He smiled at her, softness in his eyes. “I thought she was giving me a standing ovation, so I went over to talk to her.”

  She put her hand briefly over Stuart’s and said, “Well, I was, indirectly. I never heard a more beautiful rendition of ‘I’ve Got You Under My Skin.’” Turning to me, she added, “He sang three more times that night, and he’d just quietly walk on stage, perch on a stool and then just own the room. Everyone shuts up the minute Stuart opens his mouth.”

  He laughed. “That doesn’t necessarily sound like a good thing, Miri.”

  So cute. I like them together.

  “It is, you know it is. Lauren, you have to come with us some night. I’m terrible, but we can sing the Spice Girls or Destiny’s Child together.”

  “Who?” I teased, like I hadn’t heard her blasting them before. My mom and I shared a mutual penchant for popular music. Hers was just...older than mine. “Let me know what night you want to go. Wait, since when does Sharon have a karaoke bar?” I considered the nightlife options around here and drew a blank.

  “We don’t. I drove over to Edison.”

  I smiled at Stuart. “Seems like it was a good move. Is that where you’re from?”

  “Not originally. I grew up in Peoria.”

  “Did you go to college in Illinois?”

  The question opened up a barrel of interesting conversation. Apparently Stuart graduated from Illinois State University in Normal, and then got his first job offer. He worked in Illinois until they transferred him to the office in Edison. I had to suppress a smile when he earnestly assured me he’d held the same job for seventeen years, he was thirty-nine and he owned his own home. In addition, he enjoyed classic movies, big band music, going to antique shops with my mom and, of course, karaoke. Thankfully, these revelations carried us through the chocolate cake she’d made for dessert and I avoided having more questions aimed my way. It wasn’t that I minded chatting with him, more that most people would judge my life a mess at the moment and I didn’t want advice from a guy I hardly knew.

  As I stood up to clear the table, I patted him lightly on the shoulder. “You can relax now. I approve and support you two.”

  He pretended to blot his brow with a napkin. “Whew. Miri said if I didn’t pass muster tonight, I’d be kicked to the curb.”

  “I never did,” she protested.

  “Why don’t you guys go watch a movie? I’ll wash up.”

  “Are you sure?” But it was obvious Mom wanted some Stuart time, so I made shooing motion and tidied up the kitchen.

  Then I tiptoed behind the couch and up the stairs. There was no question he was better for her than my dad, but their happiness made me feel a little melancholy. I mean, I didn’t begrudge her some companionship, but before, it was Mom and me, against the world. Now it was Miriam and Stuart. After I closed my door, I could still hear the rumble of their voices, so I stuck in my earbuds and curled up on the bed. Weirdly, I’d much rather be at Rob’s house, even though his kitchen was jacked up, and he only had one room that wasn’t a work in progress.

  Maybe that was because I was a work in progress.

  With a wistful sigh, I opened my computer to check email. No surprise, there was nothing new from Max since I hadn’t answered him. Both Nadia and Angus had written. Nadia sounded down, though she was obviously trying to hide it. The breakup must still be bothering her; she had been absolutely nuts about Mr. Hot Ginger. I’d never known a guy to make her skip work or blow off obligations. I’d answered her questions from before, so that meant she took it as clearance to ask new ones.

  So you’re applying to University of Nebraska? It’d be pretty awesome not to have to get up for classes. You can join lectures in
your pajamas. Unless, will there be video? That could be awkward. Things here are suckish without you but there has been drunkenness. That’s the college deal, right? Work isn’t bad lately, but the practicum sucks. Do you miss us at all? Update me on the job situation! And oh, my God, you must be so bored if you’re hanging out with my brother. Don’t tell him he’s a crappy substitute for me! It would break his widdle heart.

  I laughed, then said out loud, “Oh, dude. I love you, Nadia, but no. Just...no.”

  Angus’s email was deliciously gossipy with details about some ongoing scandal related to Courtney, my replacement housemate, who apparently had both a druggie roommate in the dorms and a crazy ex. I replied to that, feeling like I was missing an awesome soap opera. Okay, maybe I did miss some things about Michigan. Sometimes I wanted to curl up with Angus and watch Project Runway so bad that my stomach hurt.

  * * *

  The next day, Rob showed up right on time, as promised. I had changed my outfit four times before settling on a black pencil skirt, white blouse and red jacket. With my hair up, I looked like I should be giving tours of the UN, but Rob actually stared. His eyes dropped, traveling slowly up my body like he’d never seen me before.

  “I wouldn’t hire you looking like that,” he said.

  “What? Why not?”

  “None of the guys in the office would get anything done for checking you out.”

  I grinned as he scooped me up to put me in the truck, just like he always did, but this time his hands lingered at my waist, and he didn’t step back immediately. A crackle of heat went through me as I opened my knees an inch wider, as much as the pencil skirt allowed, so the rough denim of his jeans brushed my legs, sexy even through my tights.

  “You realize that’s discrimination.”

  Gently, he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. A shiver ran through me when I registered the rough pads of his fingertips against the tender skin of my neck. My lips parted; I’d never been so close to him in quite this way before. I wanted to curl my fingers into his belt loops and pull him all the way in, delve under his jacket and find out if his abs were as nice as I suspected. Rob, shirtless and sweaty, had fueled a lot of my private time over the years.