A Long Time Coming -
: Chapter 22
“Lia,” Breaker groans as I walk past him.
“What?” I ask when I set my empty coffee mug in the sink.
“You’re killing me with that dress.” He leans against the doorway to his kitchen, dressed in a dark green suit and white button-up dress shirt.
I’m killing him? The only reason I’m wearing this dress is because he chose to bust out that suit for work today, and it’s taking everything within me not to tear into that suit before he goes to work.
So to counteract his full-frontal attack with the suit, I slipped on a sundress that I would normally never wear for a day of work from home, but you know, desperate times call for desperate measures.
Playing nonchalantly, I glance down at my dress and then back up at him. “It’s just a regular dress.”
“That is not a regular dress,” he says, walking up to me and running his fingers along the thin strap. “You don’t normally wear dresses, so is there some special occasion I don’t know about?”
“No,” I answer. “Can’t a girl just wear a dress and not get berated about it?”
“Am I berating you?” he asks. “I was unaware.” He grabs my neck, possessively holding me and bringing me in closer. “I’m just wondering if you’re trying to tempt me to stay home with you when I should be heading into the office.”
“You’re a grown man, Breaker. You can decide what you want to do with your life. I don’t need to wear a dress to tempt you.”
“Bullshit.” He smiles right before he tilts my jaw up with his thumb and then kisses me so deep that I grab the lapels of his suit to keep from falling. I slip my tongue past his lips, and he groans right before pinning me against the cabinets in the kitchen. “Fuck,” he says against my lips as he slips his hand under my dress and replaces the lace strap of my thong. “I have to fucking go,” he says as he tugs on my thong and sends it down my legs. I kick it to the side and spread my legs for him.
He slowly starts fingering me as his mouth takes control.
“Jesus, Lia. You’re already so wet.”
I untuck his shirt and thread my hand past his abs. “You’re so hot in a suit.”
“I knew you wore this dress on purpose,” he says right before lifting me onto the counter. He then sheds his jacket, undoes his pants, pulls out his hard cock, and lifts my dress. He picks me up, and I loop my arms around his waist as he replaces my entrance, and I fully insert myself on him.
“Fuck, this will never get old,” he says right before pinning me against the wall and thrusting up.
I’m so overwhelmed and caught off guard by the abrupt change that my body freely gives itself to him. I feel my body climb, especially from the way he’s driving into me.
“Breaker,” I whisper into his ear, which makes his entire body shiver.
“Shit, Lia. This is going to be fast.” Holding me tightly, he thrusts a few more times, and I feel my orgasm breaking. I squeeze him tightly, tilt my head back where his lips fall to my neck, and as he peppers kisses along my skin, I let out a guttural moan as I come.
He pumps a few more times and then he releases me, pulls out and then turns away, pumping at his cock until he comes right there on the kitchen floor.
My face heats up from the sight of it.
His hand presses against the counter as we both catch our breath.
“Motherfucker,” he whispers as I walk up to him and lightly take his cock in my hand. I stroke it a few times and then grab a wet paper towel from the kitchen and wipe everything up before helping him put himself back together.
When I’m done, he places both his hands on my cheeks and then kisses my mouth for a few moments before pulling away.
“This is going to be impossible.”
“What will be impossible?” I ask.
“Leaving you to go to work,” he answers. “I just want to stay here all fucking day with you . . . and night.”
“Now who’s the clingy one?”
He chuckles and sighs before pulling me into a hug. “Okay. I’ll see you later.”
“Okay.”
He kisses me one more time before groaning and stepping away. “Bye, Lia.”
“Bye, Breaker. Have a good day.”
I wave, and he takes off. When the door shuts, I press my hand to my forehead and lean against the counter.
God . . . that was intense and oh so satisfying.
BREAKER: How’s your day so far? Mine’s been pretty lame. I think I’m going to ask JP and Huxley if I can work from home from now on.
Lia: Probably not your best idea. We wouldn’t get anything done.
Breaker: Not my problem.
Lia: It’s your company with your brothers. It’s very much your problem.
Breaker: Then I need to go on vacation. Let’s go somewhere.
Lia: I’m still trying to catch up on all the work I’ve missed out on over the past few weeks.
Breaker: Quit your job. I’ll hire you.
Lia: To be what?
Breaker: To sit on my dick. It’s a very sought-after position.
Lia: Oh, is that so?
Breaker: Ehh, that didn’t come out right.
Lia: Because I’d hope there isn’t anyone else applying.
Breaker: You’re the only one. So what do you say? I’ll give you whatever compensation you want.
Lia: Appealing, but I’m afraid of the chafing. I’m going to have to pass.
Breaker: At least give it a trial run.
Lia: Sorry, but you sound too demanding. I don’t think I can commit myself to such an arduous workplace environment. Pass.
Breaker: Dammit. At least come meet me for lunch.
Lia: Can’t. I’m heading to the office supply store because I ran out of toner, and I have to print some documents to work on.
Breaker: So you’re saying I have to wait until tonight?
Lia: You will survive.
Breaker: Barely.
Lia: Hang in there, Pickle.
Breaker: That just made me smile.
Lia: You make me smile. I’ll talk to you later.
Breaker: Okay. Bye.
“EXCUSE ME, would you be able to direct me to your toner?” I ask the worker.
“Yes, aisle twelve,” he answers. “On the right.”
“Thank you.” With a pack of felt-tip pens in hand, because I have a sick obsession, I walk down to aisle twelve and spot the toner. I take out my phone to see the note I wrote myself to know which toner to get when I see a text from Breaker.
Breaker: JP just came into my office and started crying because he doesn’t think he’s going to be a good dad, and he’s freaking the fuck out. What is happening to my brothers?
I smile and text him back quickly.
Lia: Who knew babies were going to be the thing that took them down?
Once I press send, I go to my notes just as there is a tap on my shoulder. I turn and come face to face with Brian.
“Oh my God,” I say, taking a step back. “Brian . . . uh . . . hi.”
Wearing a suit and looking as handsome as ever, he smiles sadly while he sticks his hands in his pockets. “Hey, Lia,” he says softly.
“Wow, uh . . .” I glance around, hoping that The Beave isn’t here either. “What are you doing here?”
“My assistant quit on me, for good reason. I’ve been a tyrant lately, so I came here to pick up some supplies I needed.”
“Oh.” Awkwardly I ask, “Doesn’t your office carry that stuff?”
“They do, but there are some specific things they don’t carry.”
“Nice,” I say awkwardly. “Well, I’m just getting toner.”
“And pens, I see,” he says while gesturing to the pens in my hand. “You could never get enough of the felt-tip ones.”
“It’s an unhealthy obsession I’m okay with having.”
“Could be worse, I guess.” He rocks on his heels, and the awkwardness settles.
“Well, I’m just going to get back to my toner shopping.” I thumb toward the shelves.
“Have dinner with me,” he says quickly.
“What?” I ask.
“Dinner,” he says, his pleading eyes lifting to mine. “I just . . . I want to talk.”
“Oh.” I clutch the pens tighter. “Well, Brian, I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m sort of seeing someone.”
“You are?” he asks, his shock quickly morphing into understanding. “Let me guess . . . Breaker.”
Feeling so freaking guilty, I say, “Nothing happened until after you and I broke up, I swear, Brian. He never made a move on me, ever. I need you to know that.”
He nods. “I believe you.”
And even though he says he believes me, it doesn’t lessen the guilt pumping through me because I know Breaker was such a sensitive topic for him.
“So . . .”
“I still want to have dinner or even just coffee,” he says. “I just . . . well fuck, Lia.” He tugs on his hair. “I just want to clear the air. I know you’ve moved on, but I think I just need some closure.”
As I stare at his weathered eyes, eyes that I used to stare into dreamingly, I realize, that yeah . . . maybe I need some closure too.
So before I can stop myself, I say, “Coffee would be fine.”
“Okay. Thanks. I’ll, uh, I’ll text you the details and leave you to your toner purchases.”
“Sounds good. Thanks, Brian.”
He barely smiles and then turns away. When he’s out of sight, I exhale harshly, unaware I was holding my breath.
Closure. I think he’s right. In the back of my mind, I know something has been holding me back from giving myself fully to Breaker. From giving him everything he deserves. My whole heart. Maybe I haven’t closed the chapter on Brian just yet. Although he never usurped Breaker’s number-one spot in my heart—I can see that now—he was important to me.
Closure is always good before you start something new.
Maybe something that’s forever.
LIA: I’m an idiot.
I pace my bedroom while I wait for Myla to text me back. I didn’t want to bother Kelsey or Lottie because they seem to be going through a lot with their pregnancies and their bumbling husbands. In the off chance that they might say something to JP and Huxley, who might say something to Breaker, I think keeping them out of the loop is smart.
My phone chimes, and I quickly read the text.
Myla: Doubtful, but tell me what’s going on.
My fingers fly over my phone, texting her back as quickly as I can.
Lia: I ran into Brian at the office supply store, and he asked me to coffee. I said yes.
I hit send and wince.
Myla: Huh, that seems pretty idiotic. Is there a reason?
Lia: I told him I was dating Breaker, and he understood that. He said he wanted closure, and a part of me wants that too. But I feel like Breaker will freak out.
Myla: Why do you think you need closure?
Lia: At some point, I imagined I’d marry the man. Even though things didn’t end well, we still had some good times, and he played an important role in my life. I think I owe it to us both and to Breaker to close that chapter.
Myla: I could see that. So what’s the problem?
Lia: I just want to make sure it’s a valid reason. And sure, when I saw Brian today, I thought he was handsome, but I’d NEVER, and I mean never, even consider going back to him. Breaker is . . . well, he’s my forever, but when I go to say that to him, I feel this mental block. I think that mental block is Brian.
Myla: I think you might be right. So then just tell Breaker you need closure with Brian and go have it.
Lia: OH MY GOD! I can’t tell Breaker. He would freak out. He’s already super possessive of me. If I told him I had to meet with Brian, he’d second-guess everything, and I’m pretty sure he’d become very insecure. I don’t want to do that to him.
Myla: I know the feeling. Ryot is the same way when it comes to me. So, if you think you need to do this to replace closure so you can freely move on with Breaker, then do it.
Lia: Yeah?
Myla: Yeah. If you truly want a fresh start with Breaker with nothing in the way, then you need to make sure you have a clear mind. Trust me, I know from experience.
Lia: I think you’re right. Okay. Thank you so much. I really appreciate it.
Myla: Anytime!
“WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?” Breaker says, flying through my front door.
“Back here,” I say from my bedroom.
I hear him set something down, his shoes fly off, and then he jogs into my bedroom. I turn around just in time to catch him flying at me and tackling me to my bed.
His lips replace my neck, my jaw, my mouth.
“Fuck, I missed you,” he says while tugging at my shirt.
“Hold . . . hold on there,” I say.
“What do you mean hold on there? I’ve been waiting all day for this.” He lifts up to look me in the eyes.
“I know, I just, I have to go out tonight.”
He lifts up even more. “What do you mean you have to go out? I thought I was all yours when I got back.”
“Something came up, and I need to meet a friend.”
“Oh.” He lets me up. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah.” My phone lights up on the nightstand with a text, and I quickly grab it and stuff it in the back pocket of my jeans. That has to be Brian. “Just an impromptu thing. Not sure when I’ll be home.”
He scratches the back of his head. “Okay. Well, should I wait to have dinner with you?”
“No, that’s okay. Eat away. And don’t feel like you need to hang out here. You can go back to your place if you want.”
I move toward the entryway, a light sheen of sweat hitting my lower back. I just need to get out of here with minimal questions. But of course, he follows me.
“You seem uneasy. Are you sure everything is okay?” he asks.
I turn and place my hand on his chest and press a quick kiss to his lips, not letting him deepen it like I did earlier today. “Everything is great. I’ll text you when I’m home.”
“Okay.” I turn to move toward the door, but he stops me and pulls me into his chest. “You’d tell me if something was wrong, right? Like if I did anything?” See . . . this is exactly why I don’t want to tell him about Brian, because he would be way too insecure about it.
“You did nothing. Okay? I’ll see you later.” I give him one more kiss, and then I head out the door. I draw my phone from my pocket, grab the coordinates of where we’re meeting up, and head straight there.
DINNER SEEMED LIKE TOO MUCH. Coffee was a perfect idea and gave me a quick out.
I approach the small coffee shop I’ve never been to before and spot Brian in the window, with two cups of coffee on the table in front of him. I’m surprised he even knows my order. Well, I guess I’ll see if it’s right.
I push through the glass door of the quaint coffee shop and move toward him. When he spots me, a light smile passes over his lips, but it’s not the kind of smile he used to have. No longer in a suit, he’s in a simple pair of jeans and a T-shirt. And his hair is messy, not styled like normal. I almost don’t recognize him as I approach.
But what really catches my eye is the large white garment bag sitting on my chair.
“Hey . . . Brian,” I say as I approach the table.
“Hey. Thanks for coming. I, uh, I brought one of your dresses. It was delivered to my mom’s house. Uh, apparently, the other two will be delivered next week. I thought you’d want to take care of it. Maybe change the delivery address . . .”
“Oh, thank you,” I say as I lift it and set it to the side. I’ll definitely be canceling the other dresses. Will I be able to get a refund? Once I take a seat, Brian hands me the coffee.
“Got you a cappuccino, thought it would be the best choice for you.”
Ah, so he doesn’t know my order. Not that a coffee order would make or break a relationship, but the little things like that drove me crazy. After over a year of being together, how could he not know?
“I . . . I don’t drink cappuccinos, Brian.”
“Oh, sorry,” he says, his shoulders deflating. “I guess I don’t really know what you would drink.”
“I think that was one of our problems,” I say.
“So we’re just going to jump right into this?” he asks.
“Might as well.” I shrug.
“Okay.” He shifts and twists his cup on the table. “So I clearly didn’t know your coffee order.”
“It’s not just that,” I say. “It’s that I don’t think you knew much about me at all. And I’m not sure I knew a whole lot about you either.”
He nods. “I think you’re right, and I’m probably to blame for that.” He sighs. “I’m seeing that I’ve been so hell-bent on making something of myself and checking off all the boxes of what I need to do to get there that I don’t think I’ve actually been living.” He lifts his eyes to mine and says, “That day, when you walked away at the bakery, I wasn’t even mad. I knew it was going to happen. I could feel the tension between us, I could feel you slipping away, and I knew there was no one to blame but myself.”
“I should have tried harder too,” I say.
He shakes his head. “I know you, Lia. You’re just trying to be nice right now, but please, the blame deserves to be placed on me. I drove you away. I became uninterested. I wasn’t . . . hell, I wasn’t even fully in this relationship when I proposed. I just did it because my mother was pressuring me. It wasn’t right for you, and it wasn’t right for me.”
“Would you have gone through with it if I hadn’t called it off?” I ask.
He nods. “Yes. I would have, and I would have only made you more and more miserable because no way would I have ended it. I would have kept it going until you probably wouldn’t have been able to take it anymore.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Because my parents have made it impossible to please them. Status is so important to them that I would have done anything to maintain that.”
“I can understand that. I probably would have done anything to make my parents happy, and I think that’s why I went out with you too. They never wanted me to be alone. When I went to college, they were so scared that I didn’t have anyone to lean on, like a sibling, so when I met Breaker, they were relieved. They knew he would always be by my side. When they passed shortly before I met you, I think I was trying to let them know that I’d be okay, if that makes sense.”
“It really does,” he says. He stares down at his coffee and asks, “Did you ever love me?”
I reach across the table and place my hand on his. “Of course, Brian,” I say softly. “I loved you for so many reasons, I just don’t think you and I were in love at the end. I think we were just going through the motions.”
“We were, and I’m sorry about that.”
“Don’t be,” I say. “I think I’d have been madder if you’d put in the effort, even though it was all a lie.”
“My love for you wasn’t a lie, Lia.”
“I’m sorry, I said that wrong. I guess your intentions were a lie.”
He glances out the window and sighs. “You know, if things were different, if I didn’t have to live with this pressure, and I could be the man I truly am for you, the one you first met, I think we could have had a great life together.”
“We probably could have,” I say because Brian was fun at one point, but his competitive side—his workaholic nature—got the best of him.
He leans back in his chair and says, “Well, fuck.” His eyes connect with mine. “Are you happy, Lia? With Breaker . . . does he make you happy?”
I can’t hold back the smile that crosses my lips. “Yes, I’m thrilled. It still doesn’t feel real, but I’m happy.”
“I’m glad. He’s a good man, even though it might have seemed like we didn’t get along. You two always had a special connection that I was very jealous of, and I’m sure that didn’t help our case.”
“It was hard hanging out with both of you, but that doesn’t matter anymore.” When he looks away, I ask, “Brian?”
“Hmm?”
“Are you going to allow yourself to be happy? Or are you always going to look for what’s next in your career? What you can do to make your mother happy?”
“I’d like to say I’ll replace happiness one day, but I’m not sure.” His eyes connect with mine. “My brain is wired differently. I have this internal need to please and to accomplish, and if I’m not doing one of those things every day, I feel itchy, out of control, like my life is falling apart. I’m not sure happiness can fall within those parameters.”
“I know this isn’t my place, but it might be helpful for you to talk to someone, a therapist, to help you work through those feelings. And maybe, to become stronger in yourself. I was so hurt when you didn’t stand up for me in front of your mother, and on behalf of your future Mrs. Brian, can I urge you to learn how to do that?”
He smiles and grimaces in that order. “You’re right. I know you are. I’m sorry I didn’t do that. I need to replace the courage first.” His eyes connect with mine. “Maybe this conversation was the boost I needed.”
I smile. “Well, I hope so.”
We spend the next few minutes catching up quickly, but we never dive too deep. I don’t tell him much about Breaker because I don’t want to break his spirit. By the time we say bye, and I carry my wedding dress away from him, I feel the weight come off my shoulders like I did what I needed to do, and now I’m free.
I’m free to be with Breaker.
I’m free to love.
And I’m free to live the life I’ve always wanted with the man of my dreams.
I pull out my phone and text Myla.
Lia: Just got done with coffee. This was everything I needed. I’m ready to give my all to Breaker.
Myla: This is exactly what I wanted to hear.
If you replace any errors (non-standard content, ads redirect, broken links, etc..), Please let us know so we can fix it as soon as possible.
Report