“I'm sorry we fought,” I said in a low voice. “You know, back in Philly. Or here in L.A., at Passover. Whatever. Both, I guess.”

  I might have found her on set in my cool, collected professional mode, but we both knew what this rambling meant. I was nervous. Our lives seemed even less suited to any kind of relationship now than they had eight months ago, when we just couldn’t see a way to make it work.

  “Me too. I'm sorry I made you move away,” she said. The soft openness of her big brown eyes took my breath away.

  I let out a startled laugh. “No, it wasn’t you.” Reconsidering, I raised an eyebrow, letting a small smile shine through. “I mean, it was you. But it was good. it was time. I was hanging on to Philly too long. Hanging on to...lots of things too long.”

  Chapter 39

  Toby

  My heart sank. God, he was so grown-up, so sure of himself. The Mark Mahler I’d first met could barely get through a date without losing his cool. This wasn’t a new Mark, not at all – he dressed the same for work, had the same easy mannerisms and open, patient way of listening to me like I was the only person in the world. But now there was an extra layer, coloring his every aspect, that was so sure. So calm and confident.

  Meanwhile, I felt like I’d fallen into this new L.A. sound stage life hard and fast. As crazy as it had been, I loved it, but each day had me questioning my choices over and over. Confidence was hard to come by for a sound intern on a big Hollywood set.

  “But really, Toby, it wasn’t you.”

  I scoffed. “I basically told you I couldn’t see a future with you.” I’d replayed my words that day so many times that I remembered them better than most of my actors remembered their lines.

  “It wasn’t you,” he insisted. “I got attached to you without your permission.”

  I raised an eyebrow at him. How was he so understanding?

  “I wasn't asking you to commit to me,” Mark continued, “but I was so committed to you, to the idea of not letting you go, that it had the same effect.” My heart thrummed wildly. “It was too much. Being there in Philly, knowing you didn't even want to see me anymore. When I realized you hadn't ever really wanted to date me in the first place, I just...I felt…”

  “Crushed? Because I—”

  “Guilty. I never wanted to burden you. I accepted your help for The Bro Show because it was the easy thing to do. I mean, I was a little afraid of you, but I mostly really liked you. And…then I fell in love with you. Still am, I guess.”

  My heart dropped into my stomach. Before I could say anything, apologize for telling him I loved him right before stomping on his heart all those months ago, tell him that my feelings hadn’t changed, he seemed to realize what he’d said.

  “I mean, I…”

  I reached across the table and gripped his hand, determined to lay my feelings as bare as I could. I’d spent so long trying to ignore them after I’d walked out of his life, and far too many hours crying into my pillow when I failed. “These past few months have sucked, you know. I never thought a guy leaving my life could make every part of my life so much harder.”

  My tears were streaming down my cheeks now, half from regret and half from the sheer power of seeing him again. It was like a switch had been flipped inside me. How could I have missed what was right in front of me, not to mention the feelings that had grown for him and only blossomed since he left? “I haven't seen anyone else,” I blurted.

  Mark cleared his throat, fussed with the napkin in his lap with his other free hand. Dammit, I had no idea how to read him now. With his new confidence came a poker face, a way of masking his feelings to preserve mine. Just the way I’d always done. Finally, he murmured, “I haven’t either.”

  I couldn’t help it. A happy laugh burst from my chest, causing a couple tables’ worth of diners to look over at our table. I didn’t care.

  I’d never felt the desire to claim a man as my own, certainly never wanted one to claim me. Yet somehow, over the past year, Mark had become mine and I had become his. Without agreeing to it, we’d left a space open in our hearts for one another.

  “It wasn’t intentional, exactly, I’m not a monk or anything, but…” Mark’s words came faster now, like he was worried that I would think he wanted the same thing I’d rejected from him a year ago. “Nobody’s like you, Toby.”

  There were several things I wanted to do in that exact moment. One of them, obviously, was hauling Mark into the coat check and tearing his clothes off. The other was breaking down into tears. I chose the third option floating through my head.

  “It's Chanukah. Fifth night. Tomorrow,” I blurted.

  Mark looked like he barely held back a wince. “I know,” he said, keeping his tone even.

  “You said you were here for the next five days.”

  “I am.”

  “Would you come for dinner?”

  “Can’t,” he said, his eyes carefully searching mine. “My mom’s expecting me. And Hannah, of course. We booked a trip home for their annual party. I have a flight to Ohio and then I’m supposed to fly back on the redeye.”

  I deflated like an untied balloon. I could practically see myself whizzing around the room in circles and then flopping to the floor.

  “If I go home with you for Chanukah,” Mark started, and something in me lit up like rays of sun bursting through the clouds, though I didn’t show it, “Your family might think we're back together.”

  I cracked a smile. “I wouldn't mind that.”

  “Like, together like they wanted us to be together. Last time I was there.”

  I raised one shoulder in a shrug that I tried to make look casual. “They can think what they want.”

  Mark pulled his phone out of his pocket, and tapped at the screen, then raised it to his ear. “Hannah? Hey.”

  God, I loved the smile that spread across his face for his twin sister. There was so much I still didn’t know him, so much I was suddenly desperate to learn.

  “Yeah,” he said into the phone, clearing his throat. “My flight tomorrow morning? For Chanukah? Yeah, I think there’s gonna be a storm. Or something. And it’ll be cancelled.”

  A distant, tinny screech came ripping through the phone, and Mark made a show of pulling it back from his ear and cringing. “Yeah. You got me. I ran into Toby. You wanna talk to her?” His lips twitched. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Next time.”

  He hung up and slid the phone back in his pocket, all confidence. Damn. He was still the Mark I knew, and had fallen in love with, just slightly improved by an edge of self-assuredness.

  Just as incredible. Even more delectable.

  “Looks like I’ll need an invite for that dinner after all.”

  I couldn’t stop myself from getting to my feet, walking around the small table, grabbing Mark’s hands, and tugging him to standing. I pushed my fingers through the short hairs at the back of his head and pulled him to kiss me. He breathed out a sigh right before our lips pressed together, and we fell easily back into the same rhythm I’d daydreamed about so many times since I’d last seen him. He licked at the seam of my lips, and I met his tongue with mine, whimpering when he gripped my waist and tugged me close to him.

  We were interrupted by at least two people loudly clearing their throats.

  Mark pulled back, pressing his lips together against a grin. “This is kind of a fancy restaurant, I guess, for PDA.”

  “Call the waiter,” I growled, my mouth still so close to his that his breath skated across my lips. “Call the waiter, and have them pack up the food to go. Or forget the food. I don’t really care.”

  Chapter 40

  Mark

  Just over an hour later, Toby was spread out on the mattress in my one-bedroom in L.A., hair splayed around her head in an array of deep chestnut with streaks of gold like a celebration firework. It was shorter now, hitting just below her shoulders instead of down to her butt, and I loved it. Wanted to see how it felt when she was on top of me, bending over me for a kiss. But not this time.

  I eased myself over her naked, wanting body. She was perfect. I’d always thought she was perfect, but now it was amplified in a dozen different little ways that I couldn’t wait to take my time re-learning. I positioned myself exactly how she liked me, losing my breath at the sensation of her wet heat against my skin.

  “You want this,” I mused, barely realizing that I said the words out loud until she nodded her agreement. I reached down to feel her, amazed that one strategic brush of my fingertip could still make her moan in the same way it always had.

  “Please, Mark,” she whimpered, and I couldn’t have refused her for the whole world. As I slid into her, she strained up to give me a long, languid, utterly sweet kiss. Then she pulled away just enough to say, “We're not getting married. Ever.”

  I choked out a laugh, half distracted by the insane sensations racing through my bloodstream and half wanting to tell her that I stopped caring whether I’d ever get married the second the universe decided to give me another shot with her.

  “Your dad will hate that,” I grunted as I slid in fully to the hilt, in one smooth motion.

  “A…Ahhh! Maybe,” she gasped as her hips rocked up to meet mine, making me see stars. I put every ounce of energy into remembering to breathe, then repeated the motion. Toby swallowed another moan as her hands scrabbled at my shoulders.

  “Your mom will hate me. She’ll think I’m refusing to make it official with you,” I said, grinding against her, wanting to fill her up, keep her happy, love every single inch of her as long as she’d let me.

  “Yeah, she will,” Toby breathed, baring her teeth at my neck, nipping at one of the tendons there.

  Dammit, she was killing me and bringing me back to life with every second. I gripped her hip, holding it firm to the bed while pushing up on my other arm, giving myself a good view of her. For a few torturous moments, I held myself perfectly still. “I don’t give a shit what anyone else thinks. Okay? Nothing matters except you and me, and what we want. I want you. What do you want, Toby?”

  “You. Just you,” she gasped when I bent down to lick at her neck.

  “Good.” I started moving again, in slow, thorough thrusts that made Toby’s eyelids flutter and her head roll back against the pillows.

  “And, um…” she choked out.

  I slowed.

  “And Chanukah with my family. Seder next year, if you want. Probably this a few more times, too.”

  “Probably?” I asked. I tried to sound like I was teasing, but even like this, inside of her, I was afraid of losing her again far too soon. Afraid of this being the last time.

  She bit her bottom lip and nodded, letting a moan trickle out from between her teeth. I plunged in hard again, held myself close to her, planted a long, bruising kiss on her lips.

  “What about a date in New York? Can I take you to dinner there, too?”

  “Only if you take me to bed afterward.”

  Epilogue

  Mark - one year later

  “I can’t believe this is really happening,” Toby said, flopping down on the crisp white hotel bedding with a tiny bag of silver candied almonds in her hand.

  “You think it’s too soon?” I asked, groaning as I stepped out of my stiff shoes, then loosened my tie. So much formality for an engagement party, but Liz’s parents had wanted it.

  Toby flipped over to her stomach, and I admired the deep v-cut of the back of her silver dress. Everything about Liz and JJ’s wedding was glitz and glamor, even the bridesmaid’s dresses for the engagement party. I didn’t even want to think of how fancy the actual wedding would be, four months from now. The silver stretched over every one of Toby’s curves, but the cutout on the back of her dress laid bare the muscles of her shoulders, the sharp angles of her shoulder blades, and every knob of her spine. Her skin begged me to lick it.

  “Let's not make this big of a deal out of everything,” Toby groaned into the bedspread. I was sure she was getting makeup all over it, but the meaning behind her words distracted way too much for me to care. “It's too much.”

  I’d known I wanted Toby in my life forever in the middle of our second first kiss – over a year ago now in L.A. We’d spent the last twelve months living together, and apart, in our various apartments across the country, according to our crazy schedules. Just last week I’d convinced her to give up her lease in L.A., to consider my Hollywood apartment her own whenever she wanted. I wasn’t there too much, anyway.

  If this was the way she wanted to start to talk about maybe possibly agreeing to marry me, I wasn’t going to have any distractions.

  I also wasn’t going to pressure her. At all. In any way. Not even now.

  I cleared my throat softly. “You know, people get engaged without huge parties all the time. We wouldn’t have to do any of this.”

  She lifted her head, turned it to look at me. Her eyes were clear, calm, dead serious as they looked into mine. “Do they get married when they have six apartments across the country and only see each other half the days out of a month?”

  My heart did a happy jig in my chest, but I kept my expression calm. “Yes, they do. They do if they’re us. We’re perfect together, even if we’re not normal.”

  I loved her and she loved me. We said it on the phone and in bed. We showed it in the way we shared our lives, making sure we were together for holidays, hanging around set or back stage with the other if it was the only time we could find. Last month, Toby had gotten someone to cover for her turn in the mixing studio because I had the flu in Nashville, and she decided she had to fly down to take care of me.

  Yeah. I loved her, more than I ever thought anyone could love. I was pretty sure she felt the same way. If we never got married, if we never moved in together in more than one city, that was okay. Her love was enough for me.

  That didn’t mean I wasn’t damn happy about this conversation.

  “Hmm,” I said, loping over to the bed and sliding onto the mattress so that I faced her. I gently wrapped my hand around her waist and tugged her up so she was on her side, “Married with six apartments? I've never heard of that.”

  “Mmm.” The corner of her mouth tilted down, and she stared at the bedspread. “Too bad.”

  “But remember, we only have five places now. And I have no desire to be just like everyone else. Do you?”

  She looked up, her eyes shining with emotion tinged with uncertainty, but steady. “If you asked me,” she said in a soft but dead serious voice, “I’d say yes.”

  I stretched out my free hand to tilt her chin to mine, trying to contain my trembling excitement behind a slow, steady kiss. I jammed my hand into my pocket and pulled out a tiny black velvet pouch.

  “You’re fucking kidding me,” Toby said in an almost-whisper, her eyes wide.

  I shrugged with a sheepish smile. “I bought it the day after our second first date. It’s nothing fancy—streamlined so you can still run grip work with it on, if you want, and—”

  Now it was her turn to maul me with a kiss. I barely managed to slide the ring onto her finger before she tackled me to the bed, straddling me with strong thighs, and tore my shirt off. “I really am keeping my place in Miami,” she said when we came up for breath.

  “Of course you are,” I gasped.

  “And I’m keeping my last name,” she said right before she sank her teeth into my collarbone.

  “I’d be sad if you didn’t,” I groaned.

  “I love you,” she whispered, kissing her way up my neck, licking lightly at my ear.

  “That’s all I’ll ever need,” I said as I grabbed her and flipped her over, devouring her mouth again.

  And this time, I meant it.

  * * *

  The End.

  About the Author

  Aless is the bestselling author of several steamy romances who swears she was in her twenties yesterday. Since that's sadly untrue, she spends her time writing fun, sexy stories about men and women falling in love under the most unlikely circumstances.

  * * *

  When she's not writing, you can find her with a spoonful of ice cream in one hand and a romance novel in the other, snuggled up with one of her giant dogs.

  Also by Alessandra Thomas

  Just Down The Hall: Just Love Series Book One

  Descended from Shadows: Book of Sindal Book One

  Picture Perfect: Picturing Perfect Series Book One

 

 

  Alessandra Thomas, Just Pretend

 

 

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