Liv Read online

  I roll over to Adam’s side of the bed as my tears soak his cold pillow. We always slept in and cuddled on Saturday mornings. I would tangle my legs between his to keep my toes warm. At some point while I slept, Adam would sneak out of the apartment and grab us bagels from the bagel shop down the street. I would wake up to kisses and the smell of his clean, spicy scent after his morning shower. It was my little slice of heaven.

  Why did you have to leave?

  There is still more packing to do, and I promised myself I wouldn’t lie around moping today. Unfortunately, my queasy stomach has another idea. Looks like the couch and bathroom are going to be my best friends for the next three months.

  Morning sickness is a bitch.

  While splashing cold water on my face after puking for the third time this morning, I hear my doorbell ring. I make my way over to the front door and look through the peephole, seeing my savior standing there with saltines and 7-Up.

  I swing the door open enthusiastically, not even caring that I haven’t brushed my teeth, or that my shoulder-length blonde hair is sticking up in ten different directions.

  “You are officially my hero, you know that, right?” I say excitedly, as I lean against the doorframe.

  “Nice to see you too,” Luke replies with a grin. “You look…” he pauses and grimaces as he sniffs the air.

  “Yeah, I know,” I interrupt. My super-human smelling powers are the first to detect the slight vomit stench still clinging to my well-worn pajamas.

  “Go shower,” he says with a sympathetic smile. “I’ll start packing up your kitchen and then we can go to breakfast.”

  My stomach rolls at the mention of food, and an acidic taste immediately invades my mouth.

  “Yeah...I won’t be eating breakfast for at least a few more months, but those crackers look pretty tempting.” I nod toward the package he’s holding. “After my shower we can sit and catch up. Sound okay?”

  “Sounds great. Where’s your packing tape?” he asks, looking around the messy room littered with various moving boxes and packing supplies.

  “On the counter under the microwave,” I reply as I make my way to the bathroom. “I’ll be out in a few.”

  “Take your time!” I hear him yell as I close the bathroom door.

  The shower is an unexpected sanctuary, and I stay under the hot water until it starts to cool. After getting dressed in sweats and one of Adam’s old t-shirts that still smells like him, I head back to the kitchen. Unfortunately, Luke is nowhere to be seen.

  “Luke?” I call out, looking around the tiny apartment. The kitchen and family room are basically one large area, leaving him few places to hide.

  “In here!” he yells.

  I follow his voice and find Luke surrounded by boxes in my bedroom. All of Adam’s drawers have been opened and appear to be empty. He’s packing up Adam’s clothing.

  “What are you doing?” I whisper, hesitantly, taking in the scattered clothing.

  Luke stops folding Adam’s favorite basketball shorts and looks up at me sheepishly, shrugging one shoulder.

  “I started in the kitchen, but figured you might need more help with his things.” I can tell he’s trying to gauge my reaction by the way his eyes scan my face.

  Biting my lip, I slowly slide to the floor with my back against the wall near the bedroom door. I fold my legs up to my chest and drop my head in my hands. I can feel Luke’s stare as I slowly wipe the tears with my sleeve.

  I look up at Luke with glassy eyes, hoping his gaze will ground me. Taking a deep breath, I whisper, “I hadn’t thought about that. I guess I figured Adam would take care of it when he got home.” I laugh without humor and continue, “How pathetic is that?” I roll my eyes and place my head back in my hands, my shoulders shaking as I sob.

  I hear Luke scoot closer. He immediately puts his arm around my shoulders and pulls me into him. I grab hold of the comfort he’s offering and refuse to let go, sobbing into his navy-blue Henley shirt. Luke continues to hold me, mourning his best friend, while I mourn my lost husband.

  It feels like hours until I can finally breathe normally again. It’s a good thing I hadn’t bothered with make up, or his shirt would be ruined. Regardless, you can still see my snot marks all over his chest. I look up at him with a watery smile and apologize for ruining his shirt.

  He laughs. Hard. It’s a full-on, slap-your-knees-can’t-catch-your-breath kind of laughter. By the time he finally composes himself, he pulls me into him again and kisses my hair. I smile into his chest, craving the affection.

  “Liv, my shirt is the least of your worries. I’m pretty sure this isn’t the first one you’ve snotted all over, and it won’t be the last,” he teases, affectionately.

  I sit up and giggle.

  He’s not wrong.

  Luke was always my shoulder to cry on. Poor guy. Who would want that job?

  Unfortunately, when I would have relationship issues with Adam in high school, he was always the one to calm me down and help me work things out. People might have considered him the “third wheel,” but I liked to think of us as the Three Amigos. It was always us against the world. Adam was my boyfriend, while Luke was my best friend. We did everything together. That is, until he went to college in Denver. Not exactly close to us in good ol’ Salt Lake City. After that, he fell off the face of the earth.

  “Speaking of the least of your worries, have you figured out a game plan yet?” Luke asks, interrupting my walk down memory lane.

  I scrunch up my nose and shake my head.

  “Nope.” I pop the ‘p’ sound to emphasize my point.

  “Any ideas?” he probes.

  “Nope,” I repeat.

  I look at him pointedly. “You were always the smart one…what do you think I should do?”

  He stares into my eyes, and I can tell he’s debating with himself internally. After what feels like hours, but is likely only seconds, he breaks our eye contact, rubs his hands through his hair then rests his arms on his bent knees.

  “Stay with me,” he states matter-of-factly.

  I can feel my brows furrow as I give him a look like he’s insane. He quickly grabs my cheeks, squeezing them together to make a fishy face and says, “Not like that. Geez, I just meant ‘till you get back on your feet.” He lets go of my face and stands, grabbing my hands and pulling me up with him.

  “Adam wouldn’t want you alone. He wouldn’t want you to stress about how you’re going to provide for his baby. He wouldn’t want you homeless or working yourself to death in order to provide for his baby. He would want me to take care of you,” Luke pauses, putting his lips between his teeth before finishing, “at least for a little while.”

  He’s still holding my hands from helping me up, and I’m surprised at how close we’re standing after his little speech. We’re practically chest-to-chest.

  He clears his throat and takes a step back, releasing my hands.

  “Come stay with me.” He shrugs. “There’s nothing here for you.”

  I don’t answer him immediately, taking a minute to consider his offer. He makes some pretty good arguments, but I’m not sure I can do that to him and invade his life so fully. What if he gets sick of me?

  He left once. I’m not so sure I should rely on him again.

  “Luke, I dunno.” I bite my lower lip anxiously, actually considering his ludicrous proposal.

  He’s right. There’s nothing here for me anymore. I haven’t kept in contact with anyone since high school, not even Luke’s family. When he left for Denver, we had promised to keep in touch, but life got in the way.

  “Liv, what’s there to think about? I have a three-bedroom condo begging to have a feminine touch. I work like crazy, and I would love some home-cooked meals on occasion.” He nudges me playfully.

  Luke was always a master at reading me, and he can see I’m starting to cave. “Good. It’s settled,” he declares, like I’ve agreed to this crazy plan. “Let’s finish packing, then we’ll get some food
that won’t make you puke, and you can call the movers.”

  He starts boxing up more of Adam’s belongings like my major meltdown and our insane little agreement never happened. I grab one of Adam’s ratty sweaters and slip it over my head, his familiar scent encompassing me and giving me the courage to accept Luke’s proposal.

  I nod my head slightly. Well, I guess that’s that.

  Luke

  Shit.

  Trisha is going to be pissed.

  I honestly don’t even know what to say to her. What the hell was I thinking? That one sentence has been going through my head on a constant loop as I try to digest the conversation I just had with Liv.

  Why did I even go over to her apartment in the first place? I fell asleep last night with the determination of a workhorse, promising myself that I had done my duty by attending the funeral. That’s all I’d needed to do. I was going to leave the past where it belonged…in the past.

  I didn’t need to go to her apartment with saltines and freaking soda. I didn’t need to help her pack up Adam’s things, and I definitely didn’t need to be her freaking shoulder to cry on. I’ve never been able to watch that girl cry. It’s like walking in front of a moving vehicle just to see if your body can stop the damn thing. Obviously it can’t, and it hurts like hell.

  But offering her a place to stay while she figures stuff out? That was definitely my dumbest idea ever. And yet, as I look back on my day of helping her, I can’t help but think that maybe my not-so-brilliant idea was worth it to see her smile. Even if it was just a small one.

  I take a deep breath in through my nose, dreading the conversation I need to have with my long-time girlfriend, Trisha. She’s going to kill me. And honestly? I don’t blame her.

  Thankfully she doesn’t know much about my relationship with Liv. Otherwise, I’m pretty sure Trisha will castrate me for offering her a place to stay.

  Hell, she might castrate me anyway, once she finds out my new roommate is a gorgeous, newly single woman who I’ve known forever.

  Not that it matters if she’s single or not. Because it’s not like she’s really single. She just lost her husband who she’s been in love with since she was sixteen. I don’t know if you ever really get over that kind of thing. I sure as hell haven’t.

  It’s not like it’s my business anyway. All I offered was a room. That’s it.

  What the hell was I thinking?

  Chapter Three

  Liv

  After an outrageously expensive one-way ticket to Denver, we finally arrive at Luke’s place.

  As I walk into his condo, the first thing I notice is how this place could definitely use a woman’s touch. It’s gorgeous, but has he ever heard of a throw pillow? Or a picture frame?

  Okay, maybe I’m being a little harsh. The place is beautiful, and it sure beats my old one-bedroom apartment. It’s just a little too much of a house, and too little of a home, for my taste, but we can fix that in a jiffy. Pier One, here I come!

  It looks like he’s done really well for himself, though. I’m proud of him. The condo is amazing. The floors are covered in a dark hardwood, sleek granite covers the countertops, and modern leather couches separate the kitchen and family room. And don’t forget the giant TV mounted to the wall above the fireplace.

  He definitely has all the essentials covered.

  “Wow.” I whistle as my eyes scan the open floor plan. “This place is gorgeous, Luke!”

  “Thanks,” he replies sheepishly, placing a few of my boxes on the kitchen island. Somehow, Luke had been able to coordinate our flight with the movers delivering my stuff.

  “The guest bedroom is down the hall on the left, along with the bathroom. My office and room are both on the right,” he says, leading me further into the condo.

  As I pass the bathroom, my stomach rolls, and I’m reminded how well acquainted I’ll soon become with his porcelain throne. I manage to take a few soothing breaths, preventing our inevitable acquaintance for a few more minutes.

  Have I said it before? Morning sickness is a bitch. And did you know that it lasts all day? Yeah, neither did I.

  He leads me into the guest bedroom (my bedroom?) and proceeds to tell me to make myself at home before he disappears to retrieve more boxes.

  I look around the warm gray room, noticing a white four-poster bed with a simple navy comforter, and a matching white dresser and nightstand. The bed looks ridiculously comfortable as I stare at it from across the room. I can’t resist the urge to fall onto my back and snuggle into the pillows, my eyes already growing heavy from lack of sleep and all the packing. I would kill for a good night’s rest.

  Luke walks into the room with more boxes, chuckling at my childish behavior.

  “Still in love with your naps, Liv? I thought you’d have grown out of that.”

  I may or may not have a slight obsession with sleep. In high school, I refused to ever sneak out after curfew because I was looking forward to sleeping instead of breaking any rules. Luke and Adam never let me hear the end of it. There’s just something about that feeling right before you’re completely asleep, with your body melting into the mattress, the fluffy pillow cradling your head and neck, and the weight of the blankets wrapping you in a warm embrace.

  I snuggle into the pillows more fully. I haven’t slept well since I got the phone call about Adam. My mind hasn’t been able to find a way to shut off. I’ve been stressed about trying to find a more permanent living arrangement, how I’m going to raise a baby on my own, what kind of job I need to find that’s flexible, and the list goes on.

  Somehow being in Luke’s apartment causes my mind to finally give in and let me rest, and I would be stupid not to take advantage.

  Instead of replying with a sarcastic remark, I just smirk at Luke and ask in a sugary sweet voice, “Could you close the door on your way out, Bellboy? I need some precious beauty sleep.”

  As I turn away from the door, snuggling into the sheets once more, I can practically hear the smile in his voice as he says, “Trust me Liv, you’ve had plenty of that.”

  The door quietly closes behind him, just as I begin to drift off to slumberland.

  Chapter Four

  Liv

  I wake up to the sound of voices in the kitchen area. Peeking through the window, I notice the moon shining brightly in the dark velvet sky. I can’t believe how long I slept; it must be ten o’clock or so.

  At first I assume the voices are from the TV, but I quickly realize it’s Luke and a woman. It sounds like they’re having a heated conversation in the main living area.

  I don’t want to interrupt, but I really need to pee. I climb out of bed and make a beeline to the bathroom, but am stopped when I hear a feminine voice shout, “So this is the new roommate?” Her sharp tone is definitely accusatory and causes my hackles to rise.

  I pause a few steps from the bathroom, trying to control my bladder and my raging hormones, before plastering a smile on my face and hoping it looks genuine. I turn toward the kitchen and see Luke in dark jeans, a light gray t-shirt, and messy hair sticking up in different directions. He must have been running his fingers through it before I came into the room. He does that when he’s frustrated or nervous.

  The question is, why?

  My eyes bounce to the other person in the room, and I’m quickly met with a pair of scrutinizing chocolate-brown eyes belonging to a gorgeous woman. I try to be subtle as I look her up and down. Long black hair? Check. Legs that go on for miles? Check. Giant boobs? Double check. (Pun intended.)

  Well, that does it. I’m officially intimidated.

  Wait…why am I intimidated?

  It’s not like she’s competition or anything, unless she was also hoping to stay in the guest bedroom? From the looks of it, I assume she’ll be staying in the master suite with a certain someone who failed to mention a not-so-friendly girlfriend to his new roommate.

  Scratch that. She could be friendly. Maybe she just didn’t know her boyfriend invited his former be
st friend to move in with him because her dead husband knocked her up and then left her and…. I think I’m rambling.

  “Hi,” I say as politely as I can, waving my hand awkwardly. My eyes bounce between Luke and Miss Double D’s.

  “Hi,” Luke replies with a hesitant smile. “This is Trisha. Trish, this is Liv.” Luke makes the proper introductions, eyeing both of us warily. I can tell he’s afraid a full-on chick fight is about to break out in his kitchen.

  Trisha and I shake hands, and she seems much more polite all of the sudden. Maybe she’s not quite as intimidated now that she’s seen me with post-nap hair and smudged makeup.

  “Liv, I was just telling Trish how we’re old friends, and you were needing a place to stay,” Luke says, holding my eyes with his own, letting me know he didn’t go into all the gory details of my train wreck of a life.

  “Yes,” Trisha interjects, “he had mentioned getting a new roommate who was an old friend needing a hand. What he failed to mention was that she was a girl.” She emphasizes the word girl, almost like it’s a four-letter word. I mean it is technically a four-letter word, but you get my point. I guess I would be pretty pissed too, if my boyfriend left that part out.

  What she doesn’t understand is mine and Luke’s relationship. Or that I’m pregnant. Or that my husband just died. Trust me…I’m pretty sure I couldn’t be any more unappealing to the opposite sex right now, even if I tried. And I’m not trying. At all. I may or may not have even showered for the past three days. Though to be fair, I did put on deodorant.

  “It’s nice to meet you,” I announce, pasting the same uncomfortable smile on my face as before. I’m unsure if I should try to expound on my situation or not.

  Trisha continues to stare in my direction, making me feel even more awkward than before. Does she expect more of an explanation as to why I’m bunking with her boyfriend?

  The room is so silent I swear you could hear a pin drop. Luke clears his throat, but it does nothing to break the tension.

  I’ve never been very good with awkward silence. I have a habit of saying the first thing that comes to mind in hopes of breaking it. I bite my lower lip, attempting to contain any possible word vomit. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work.