Someone Like You Read online

  He stared at her, searching, and she couldn’t look away. Her heart felt like it was trying to push through her rib cage. Then the corner of his mouth curved, the tiniest hint of a grin, and he said, “So don’t trust me yet. Just come out with me tonight, and we’ll have a good time.”

  Something inside her went soft. He made no demands, no fake promises. Just a light request for her time. A small chance. Again, she’d underestimated him. Drawing a shaky breath, she said, “You know what? That would be fine.”

  Chapter Ten

  Abby had no idea where Pierce was taking her or what they’d be doing, so she had no idea what to wear. She hated feeling so girly about that. She hated how off-kilter he made her feel in general. But she hadn’t been so trembly excited about a date in a very long time.

  There was a knock on her bedroom door. “Abs?”

  “Oh, good.” Abby pulled her sister inside and locked the door behind her. “Help. I’m scattered here. I don’t know what to wear.”

  Fiona smiled smugly and sat on the bed. “Look at you, all giddy and nervous.”

  “Shut up and help me pick out something to wear.”

  “Pierce Harrison is smoking hot, I’d be nervous too. But you’re always so cool, calm, and collected . . .” Fiona stretched out her legs and leaned back on her elbows. “I’m amused, I admit it.”

  “You’re mean.” Abby went to her closet and sorted through it for the tenth time.

  “Why don’t you just go like that?” Fiona gestured to Abby’s body. She only wore a peach lacy bra and panties. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. I bet he’d be fine with it.”

  “You’re not helping.”

  With a chuckle, Fiona stood and went to Abby’s side. “You know, you were supposed to go out with me tonight. Don’t think I forgot. I’m taking a rain check.” They looked through the closet together. “This one,” Fiona said, fingering a royal blue tank dress, “or this with jeans.” She pulled out a fitted emerald-green top with cap sleeves and a scoop neck.

  Abby considered both garments, then took the top from her sister’s hands. “I actually was leaning toward this one.”

  “Then there we go. Great minds . . .”

  “Thank you.” Abby pulled it over her head. “What shoes, though . . . ?” She grabbed her most flattering dark jeans from the hanger.

  “I have stilettos that would—”

  “I will never wear stilettos with jeans. That’s so not me.”

  “Pity. How about my dark gray peep-toe wedges? The heels are only two and a half inches.”

  Abby thought it over. “Yeah, those would be great. Thanks.”

  “No problem.” She watched her sister shimmy into dark skinny jeans. “So . . . women only wear a matching bra and panties if they think they might get naked,” Fiona pronounced as she sat on the bed again. “Are you getting laid tonight?”

  “No!” Abby cried indignantly, eyes flying wide. “I just . . . well . . .”

  “It’s good to be prepared,” Fiona said, grinning. “Have a condom?”

  “What? Fiona! No!”

  “I have some. Want me to get you one? You should keep it in your bag.”

  Abby stopped and stared, almost dumbstruck. “You haven’t dated in forever, Fi, unless there’s something you haven’t told me. Why do you have condoms?”

  Fiona shrugged. “Wishful thinking. Hoping I might need one someday.”

  Abby had to laugh. “Someday? How old are they? If I take one, will it break from old age?”

  Fiona laughed too as she said, “No, you little bitch, I got them a few months ago. Just in case. They’re fine. So . . . do you want one?”

  “No. Not necessary.” Abby turned to the mirror to check her reflection. “That’s not happening tonight. It’s only our second date, for Pete’s sake.”

  “I had sex with Jimmy on our second date,” Fiona said, referring to her ex-husband. “It happens all the time.”

  “Yeah, well . . . is this when I point out that didn’t end very well?”

  “Shut up.” But Fiona was still grinning. “Pierce is freakin’ hot. And looks like he knows how to have fun. I hope you just have some fun tonight, Abs.”

  “I do too. But . . . we’re just so different.” Abby turned to look at her sister, frowning. “He’s always so laid back and he thinks I’m uptight.”

  “Sometimes you are. But I say that with deep love.”

  Abby scowled and went to her jewelry box. She carefully pulled out a silver necklace and fastened the clasp around her neck. The crescent moon charm with three tiny emeralds dangled against her skin. “Fiona, I’m only twenty-eight. When did I get so . . . spinsterish?”

  “When Ewan broke your heart last year, sweetie.” Fiona sighed and reached for her younger sister’s hand. “Look. You’ve always been very structured. You like—need your routines and organization. That’s all fine; that’s who you are. But the other part . . . the whole thing with Ewan changed you a little.” She gave an empathetic smile. “Abs, he really hurt you, I know. Believe me, I’ve been there, and I get it. Now, it’s time to try again. A gorgeous, sexy guy asked you out. So tonight, brush off that spinster shell before it becomes permanent, and go enjoy yourself.”

  Abby gave her hand a return squeeze before going back to the jewelry box. She plucked out a pair of silver hoop earrings and put them on.

  “You know,” Fiona went on, “Pierce doesn’t strike me as the serious type, or like he’s looking for anything more than a good time. So just go have a good time! He’d be a great way to get your feet wet in the dating pool again. You don’t have to think about ALL THE THINGS. Don’t overthink it, or wonder about his intentions, what you want for the future, any of that. Just go out with an unbelievably sexy and gorgeous guy, with no expectations of any kind but having a good time.”

  “That’s almost exactly what he offered,” Abby said.

  “See? I’m wise.” Fiona assumed a mock-serious expression, which made Abby giggle. “Abs. There are reasons he asked you out. You’re no slouch, sister. Remember that.”

  “He dates models!” Abby squeaked, the twinge of anxiety returning. “Models, Fi! For him to ask me out, he must just be bored. I think he has free time to kill, and I’m here, so why not.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure you’re right.” Fiona stood up and glowered at her. “It’s not like you’re beautiful, or smart, or nice, or any of that.”

  Abby rolled her eyes.

  “And hey,” Fiona continued, “it’s not like he lives a short trip away from New York City, the biggest city on the damn planet, where he could easily pick up any glamorous, gorgeous woman he wants. Yeah, he just asked you out, for a second time, because he’s bored and you’re boring. That must be it.”

  “Okay, fine. Just stop now. I’m already jumpy.”

  “I know. It’s adorable.” Fiona smoothed Abby’s hair back from her eyes. “I get that getting hurt again scares you. You’ve had crappy luck with guys, so now you want to play it safe. And Pierce is far from safe, so you’re running from him. But maybe there’s a middle ground? I mean, he just asked you on a date, not to marry him. Calm down, you know?”

  Abby opened her mouth to speak, then just blew out a stream of air in resignation. “I guess. I just . . . you’re right, I’m scared of getting hurt again. And I’m stupid attracted to him. And he . . . yeah, he’s been nice to me, really decent. But somehow, sometimes, he makes me feel like he’s like a wolf, and I’m his next meal.”

  “I get all that. And you know what? You’re smart. Because we both know if Pierce has that kind of rep, it’s not made on nothing. Even if only some of the stories are true, and he admitted to that, it’s still something.” Fiona grasped a long lock of her hair and began twisting it around her finger. “He may be a total player. You’re right to be cautious. But just go out with him anyway and have some fun.”

  “I am.” Abby turned toward the mirror and checked her makeup. “Ugh, I’m nervous. That’s so dumb.”

 
; “No it’s not. And I think it’s cute.” Fiona met Abby’s eyes in the mirror. “Since Ewan, you’re not letting yourself move forward. You’re stuck. Maybe some fun with Pierce will help get you unstuck, you know? I’m just saying . . .”

  Abby sighed, blinked, then moved her trembling hands to cover Fiona’s. “Goddammit, Fi . . . I think you might be right.”

  “Of course I am. I always am.” Fiona’s smile turned wicked. Her joke broke the intensity of the moment and they chuckled together.

  When the doorbell rang, Abby froze. Her eyes flew wide as they locked on her sister’s face. “Oh God. He’s here. Eeeep.”

  “Ohh, you’ve got it bad,” Fiona murmured. “Poor thing.” She smacked a loud kiss on Abby’s head. “Text me if you need me. I’ll wait up for you so you can tell me every delicious detail. If I fall asleep before you get home, wake me up. But now, I’m going to make dinner.” Her hands still on Abby’s shoulders, she gave them a little squeeze and commanded, “Think about what I said. Loosen up. Stop thinking so much. Just have a good time. And at least kiss him. Or let him kiss you. Promise me.”

  Abby blushed, but nodded.

  “Thatta girl.”

  * * *

  Pierce sat back, feeling relaxed as he started his third beer. From their table on the rooftop of the Carter Hotel, they had a wonderful view as the sun slowly dipped down behind the wall of buildings across from them. Splotches of neon pink and orange splashed across the dark blue sky as the last slivers of sunlight reflected off thousands of skyscraper windows. Upbeat music played around them, and the rooftop was filled with people relishing the evening.

  He’d taken Abby into Manhattan, picking her up in a town car he’d rented for the night. She’d been surprised at the rental, but he’d explained to her he planned to enjoy himself. If that meant not having to worry about having a few drinks and driving her home safely, power to them.

  Conversation on the ride in had been . . . perfunctory. They’d chatted about the kids on the team, she holding herself at a distance from him, preserving her personal space. The ride was a thankfully quick forty minutes; she was quiet, and slightly uncomfortable. He didn’t understand it. But when they got to the ultramodern, glitzy hotel in midtown, and he escorted her to the fantastic rooftop bar and restaurant forty flights up, she’d been delighted. He could see it on her face, even if she still seemed reserved.

  Miss Priss was back with a vengeance, and he wasn’t sure why.

  Once they were seated, perusing their menus, Pierce tried not to stare at her too much. But it was hard. Between how gorgeous she looked and how coolly distant she was, he found himself simultaneously aroused, amused, and a little annoyed. Even when she offered him grins or snippets of conversation, she seemed tense and aloof. What was her deal? He didn’t know her well enough to read her.

  Until, after a few long sips of her first glass of Riesling, she finally said, “I’m sorry if I seem . . . I don’t know, stiff. Truth is, I’m a little nervous. I haven’t been on a real date in a long time. I broke my dating moratorium to go out with you tonight. And you’re a dating pro. I’m just . . .” She shook her head and color rose from her chest up into her cheeks. “You’re starting to look annoyed. In case it’s because of me, I wanted to say something. Am I making any sense?”

  Something in him went soft and warm. “Yes.” He smiled gently. “Thanks for telling me. Truth is, I was beginning to think that I should have listened to you, and you really didn’t want to go out with me at all.”

  “No, I do!” she said in a rush, and her face bloomed with brighter pink. “God. I’m being an idiot. Maybe I need a few drinks before dinner . . . and some more during dinner . . .” She laughed at herself, a self-deprecating chuckle that made him want to pull her onto his lap. “I used to be better at this.”

  “Moratorium, huh?” He couldn’t help but grin. “You’re not the only one, you know. I’ve been on a moratorium for the last two months. How long has yours been?”

  “Mid-October will be a year.”

  His brows shot up. “You haven’t dated in a year?”

  She shook her head no, and a shadowed look crossed her face.

  “May I ask why?” He gentled his voice, wanting her to be sure he wasn’t teasing.

  “I was in a serious relationship and it ended badly,” she said. “Shocker, right?” She reached for her glass again and lifted it to her lips.

  “I’m sorry to hear it,” he said. “So . . . if you instituted a moratorium, safe to assume you’re the one that got burned?”

  “Yup.” Her slender, manicured fingers circled the rim of the wineglass. Her nails were painted a neutral color; nothing flashy for Miss McClipboard. “We broke up last October. I haven’t dated since.”

  “Well, then. We have something else in common after all.”

  “No, we don’t. I loved him.” Her voice had hardened, but her gaze drifted off to some distant point over his shoulder. “I thought that maybe I’d end up marrying him. So the breakup wrecked me. You didn’t have any feelings for Victoria; you weren’t in a relationship with her. It’s very different.”

  He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, when you put it that way, yours was much worse. I mean, I’m torn up over my career ending, but it wasn’t actual heartbreak. So again, I’m sorry to hear it.” He took a swig from his beer. She wouldn’t look at him, suddenly fascinated by what was left of her wine. The music playing over the sound system was loud, but quiet enough for them to hear each other while they talked. He leaned in and asked, “So . . . what happened? Would you tell me basics? I’m sorry, I admit it, I’m curious now.”

  She shrugged, a nonchalant yet resigned gesture. “Well, I met him online, which was the first big mistake. He told me he’d recently gotten divorced and shared custody of his kids with his ex-wife. Ewan’s ten years older than me. But I thought that was a good thing.” She brushed her hair back from her face with both hands. “We talked for a few weeks online. He was smart, and he was funny. We had the same interests. He was good-looking, which was nice. I thought he was mature, really had his shit together. I fell fast and hard. It was wonderful at first, but after a while, that gave way to . . . well . . . the relationship stuff was . . . spotty.” The woman at the next table laughed loudly. Abby glanced her way before continuing. “He didn’t live nearby, so there were all those communication glitches that a long-distance relationship can have. Which led to misunderstandings, spats, all of that.”

  “Never a good thing,” Pierce remarked.

  “No. Add to that he wouldn’t follow up with calls, or texts . . . he’d disappear for a few days without a word. Then, when I got upset, he’d accuse me of being a drama queen. Just lots of bullshit.”

  “But you stayed?” Pierce was genuinely confounded. Abby didn’t strike him as the type to put up with “lots of bullshit”.

  “I did. Because I loved him, and it was a long-distance relationship, so I felt I had to make allowances for some things. Of course, in the end, when I found out what was going on, it made all the weird behavior make sense, but it still tore me to shreds.” Her eyes finally met his. “When we met, he told me he was divorced. That was a bald-faced, deliberate lie. He was married the whole time.”

  Pierce winced. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, I was too.” Her lips pursed in disgust. “Such a cliché, and I fell right into it. I only found out the truth when his wife called me one night to tell me all about it. She’d found our texts on his phone. She went nuts on me, accusing me of trying to steal her husband and wreck her family, yada yada . . .” She reached for her glass again and drained it.

  “Jesus. That must’ve been . . . Abby, I’m so sorry.” Wanting to comfort her, he slid his hand across the table to hold hers. Her skin was warm and soft. He would have done anything to make that haunted look on her face disappear.

  She shrugged again and said, “I’m okay now. I just learned some hard lessons.”

  Something burned in
Pierce’s gut. She was a genuinely good person. The shadows in her eyes made his stomach churn. “Abby, he was an asshole. To lie to you like that, string you along—it’s good riddance. I mean, I’m sorry it all hurt you so much, but you’re better off without him. I’m sure you know that.”

  “Of course I know that,” she replied, her voice without affect. “The day his wife called me, once I could stop shaking enough to get in the car, I drove all the way to his office and confronted him. He made excuses. He asked me to forgive him, can you believe that? I told him to go to hell, left his office in tears . . . and I never heard from him or saw him again. That’s how much I meant to him. . . .” She tried to pull her hand away, but Pierce held on. Her eyes flickered to his.

  “He’s a worthless piece of shit,” Pierce growled. “That was all on him, Abby. All of it. I know it doesn’t make it sting less, and I’m sure you know that, too.”

  She nodded. “Yup. But you’re right, didn’t make it sting any less.”

  “Does he live nearby? I could kick his ass for you,” Pierce offered, trying to make her smile. It worked; the corners of her frown lifted and her dark blue eyes lit.

  “He lives in New Jersey, but way out, almost to the Pennsylvania border. Not worth the gas and tolls.”

  “Jersey, huh. Figures.” He winked, feeling better that he’d made her crack a smile. “It’s his loss, Abby.”

  “I know. But I’m the one who got hurt.” She shook her head. “He played me for a fool. Once I called him on his lies, he didn’t even have the decency to explain any of it to me. Radio silence. Like I never existed.” She bit down on her bottom lip. “I just felt so stupid. And I didn’t know if he ever really cared about me at all. Those two things ate at me for a long time. I used to overthink it, analyze everything, trying to figure out why . . . I made him feel powerful, I guess. And he was probably amused by me. Naïve little Abby . . .” Her voice had filled with scorn.