Say You’ll Stay Read online

  Forget saying anything about her houseguest. To anyone. Helping someone else put the only bright spot into her holiday, and it was all hers. Zach would never know. She didn’t have to worry about him any more, though.

  She replayed the evening in her mind all throughout the long trip to JFK airport, but by the time she’d made it through security and to her gate her righteous anger had faded and doubt crept in. Zach wasn’t perfect—he’d hardly been an adequate boyfriend—but they’d been together for two years. Maybe she’d been hasty. If he’d had any better excuse than the one he’d offered, she might’ve forgiven him.

  Alyssa settled into her seat, buckled the belt, and yawned. Dawn stained the sky as the aircraft taxied down the runway and lifted off. It circled the city once, finding its flight path. Cold New York stretched out, the buildings like Lego buildings below, getting smaller, turning the big city into a toy. She’d fought so hard for so long to be here. How could she tell her family that, after everything they’d sacrificed, she was ready to walk away?

  2

  “Aly!” Janelle, her younger sister, wrapped her arms around her neck with a fierceness that made Alyssa choke. It was akin being tackled by a St. Bernard puppy, minus the drool.

  “Come on, big sis. Show it!”

  “Show what?” Although she was sweating, Alyssa was glad she’d automatically pulled her gloves on while scrambling to get off the plane. She’d finally caught a few hours of sleep during the trip, and now her breath was stale and her throat parched.

  “The ring! Speaking of sparklers, where’s Zach?”

  “He couldn’t make it.” Alyssa hoped she didn’t sound too evasive. She needed caffeine before breaking the news. “Merry Christmas to you too.”

  “Let’s get Alyssa home before we start interrogating her, Janelle.” Alyssa’s mother reached for a hug.

  “Oh, fine.” Her sister grabbed for the wheelie suitcase. Alyssa let her take it. She had her shoulder bag and coat to carry.

  “How come you didn’t fly into Fort Myers?” Janelle asked as they zipped over the tile. They exited the airport without passing a single purveyor of coffee. Haven’t they heard of Starbucks in Florida?

  “Tampa was cheaper. I know it’s a drive. Thanks for picking me up.”

  The boots that had failed to keep her feet warm in New York were roasting them now. In the car, she kicked them off and slipped into cheerful red ballet flats. Her bandage stuck out of the shoe, needing to be changed and ruining the effect.

  “Zach would’ve ponied up for the tickets. What’s the point of having a rich boyfriend if he doesn’t show you the good life?”

  Alyssa sighed. She’d never survive two hours of this treatment.

  “We have different ideas about what makes for the good life, Janie.” Sometimes Alyssa felt like an alien life form. She could blend in anywhere, but she’d never fit in.

  There was no point in continuing to make an ass of herself by wearing the gloves. Her mother zeroed in on the naked ring finger of her left and raised an eyebrow in question.

  “Zach’s not coming. Work. You know how it is.” She shrugged.

  “Isn’t the stock market closed on Christmas?” Catherine Carlisle eyed her attentively. Like Janelle, she had dark hair and vivid green eyes. Both women sported deep tans, the kind that came from regular activity in bright sunlight all year long. Alyssa shrank down in her seat feeling like a pale ghost who’d showed up to haunt the family holidays.

  “Yeah, but you know finance guys, they work all the time.” Alyssa watched the rows of palm trees flash by the side of the road. “Hedge funds.”

  “I’ve always thought Zach could be self-absorbed,” her mother commented. “Is something going on?”

  Caffeine or not, she might as well get it over with. “Yeah. We broke up.”

  Her mother and sister gasped in unison. “When?”

  “Last night.”

  “Totally broke up?” Janelle’s shock registered in the review mirror. She’d taken the middle of the back seat so she could peer into the front of the car.

  “Done, over, final.” Alyssa sat up a little straighter to better project Having It All Figured Out. Confident. In control.

  “Oh, no. Honey.” Her mother tried to reach across the seat to hug her with one hand and nearly ran into a parked car. “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine. Better than fine. I’m glad I didn’t get engaged. You’re right, Mom, Zach is self-absorbed and inconsiderate. I can’t even believe I dated him. Not getting engaged was a near-miss.”

  “Who cares? He’s rich and only going to get richer.” Janelle, who was struggling to make ends meet on a recent graduate’s salary, had recently discovered the value of money. “At least if you’d married, him you could’ve made out like a bandit in the divorce. Although, on the bright side, I don’t have to waste money on some hideous bridesmaid’s dress.”

  Alyssa rolled her eyes. “Thanks for caring.”

  “Janelle, your attitude is appalling. Look, it happened, let’s all try to forget about Zach and not let him ruin the holiday. There’s still plenty to celebrate, like your promotion.”

  “Yes, I’m starting a new role at the agency when I go back.” Alyssa tried to say it brightly but her words came out flat. It was nothing more than a title bump with more responsibility, longer hours, and no extra pay. “Lead Creative for Direct & Digital on a major client account.”

  “I don’t know what that means.”

  “It means she designs spam emails and junk mail for a living, Mom.” Leave it to Janelle to frame it in the bluntest terms possible. Her sister had a built-in bullshit detector and wasn’t fooled by fancy words.

  “I sent you to art school to make that stuff?” Her mother was mostly kidding, but the sharpness in her tone said everything about her disappointment with Alyssa’s career.

  “I’m employed, Mom. Self-supporting. No small feat for an art grad in New York City.” Advertising was what happened to good art school graduates who didn’t have trust funds or connections in the museum and gallery world. She’d worked hard to get where she was, but it wasn’t what she’d thought she would do with her life.

  Her mom reached over to squeeze her knee. “In any city, honey. We’re so proud of you.”

  A genuine smile touched her lips. They were the first positive words Alyssa had heard all holiday season. She’d been about to mention the lack of a raise, just to get all the bad news out of the way, but the words died in her mouth.

  * * *

  At the slam of a car door in the driveway next door, the garden hose in Marc De Luna’s hand slowed to a trickle. Janelle’s girlish voice carried over the fence. Ever since the Carlisle family had moved next door, his friends had been telling him he ought to make a play for her—or they were threatening to try it themselves.

  Yet Marc’s attention always skipped over Janelle and landed her sister. He’d know that tangle of hair anywhere. The summer she’d moved in it had been brown, but within a few months the sun had streaked it with gold. After she’d moved to New York she’d dyed it blonde for a few years. Honey blonde, bright blonde, it didn’t matter. It all looked good.

  When she’d come back last summer it had been brown at the roots again, fading to a dark blonde at the ends. It looked expensive, professionally done. Right now, it was up in a loose ponytail, dangling to the middle of her black shirt.

  She never glanced his direction. Alyssa had been his neighbor for less than a year. She’d been home for a summer or two when he’d been busy playing the field and flunking out of college. He’d watched her go from cute high school senior to gorgeous grownup, a little too sophisticated for Florida and a long way from Ohio, where the Carlisles had moved from.

  Miss New York. He’d teased her with that nickname once, a few summers ago. Alyssa hadn’t spoken to him the rest of the week she’d been home. She never said much, not to him, other than a few occasions when she’d gone on about art and design. It all went over his head,
but her enthusiasm made a lump form under his ribcage. The weird sensation returned whenever she did, and when she left, the space remained empty for days after.

  She didn’t notice him now, either. Nothing had changed.

  Marc returned his attention to washing away the bits and pieces of greenery and smudges of dirt leftover from the plants his father had repotted. He wished he could rinse away the tense knot that had manifested in his midsection just as easily.

  Alyssa. Engaged. To the douchey finance guy with the too-easy grin she’d brought home last summer. No accounting for taste.

  The boyfriend wasn’t here though. He hadn’t been in the car, and no one had arrived since. Interesting.

  * * *

  “Alyssa, honey.” Her mother looked out the window above the kitchen sink as she loaded the dishwasher. They’d finished opening gifts and the living room was a veritable mess. “Would you take out the trash?”

  “Right now?”

  “Yes, please. We’re having a cookout later and your dad invited the neighbors to stop by. You can help clean up, broken heart and all.”

  “It’s not broken, Mom. Seriously, it’s not even cracked. Hardly a scratch.” Her pride, however, had taken one hell of a beating. It was less that Zach had stood her up—although the episode still stung—than that she’d stayed with him for so long in the first place. It was hard to be devastated about losing someone when there hadn’t been anything of substance to lose.

  Alyssa hauled herself off the couch, where she’d been on the edge of drifting into a much-needed nap. Her bare feet were slung over one end like a teenager with no responsibilities, but she should be helping out. She pulled herself up without complaint.

  She quickly collected all the wrapping paper, bows, and boxes, stuffed them into a garbage bag and took them outside to the recycling bin. It was tempting to sneak in that nap before whichever neighbors her mother had invited over showed up.

  From next door, the sharp clatter of bottles bit at her ears. Alyssa glanced up to see her neighbor performing the same ritual.

  Being within ten yards of Marc De Luna always made Alyssa feel like she was drowning in lava. Hot didn’t begin to describe it. Just seeing him burned away nerve endings. Faded jeans hung low on his narrow hips. The pale blue T-shirt clung to his pectoral muscles and broad shoulders, loose around his body where his waist narrowed. Marc’s thick dark hair was just shaggy enough to make her want to run her hands through it.

  If he ever looked her way, she’d probably fall into the trash can. She was that suave. And if he spoke to her? She’d swoon and give herself a concussion.

  She yanked the lid of her parents’ can open, tossed in the bag of paper recycling, and gently closed it. There was no point in trying to attract Marc’s attention. For starters, he was the last person she wanted to be around at this exact moment. Ever since her parents had moved to Verona Harbor, Florida, when she was in high school, Alyssa had watched him from afar. He’d been in college then. If he’d gotten as far as declaring a major, it would’ve been a degree in seducing sorority girls. Despite this, Alyssa still remembered every single syllable he had ever spoken to her.

  She glanced up. His intense amber gaze pinned her where she stood.

  “Alyssa. I wondered if you were coming home for the holidays.” He dropped the lid to the garbage can and shifted his weight onto one foot.

  “You did? I mean, of course. I always come back for Christmas.” She felt faint. What fresh hell was this speaking words business? If she did fall over she’d blame it on the balmy weather. Marc never spoke to her, except to tease.

  “You didn’t last year.”

  “I can’t believe you noticed,” Alyssa blurted. She’d been in Connecticut with Zach’s family.

  “I’ve always noticed,” he replied with a half-grin that hit her like a tractor-trailer. “I hear we’re coming over for dinner later.”

  “You are? I mean, yes. Right. For dinner.” Her voice sounded better, but her words had never sounded so stupid. Her mother hadn’t specified which neighbors. Theirs was a social block, and she could’ve meant anyone ten houses up or down either side of the street. It hadn’t occurred to Alyssa to clarify who was coming over.

  “See you later,” Marc said casually.

  Alyssa stumbled into her house, where she caught a glimpse of herself in the hall mirror. Gray smudges lurked beneath her eyes from lack of sleep, her stringy, tangled hair shot from her head in crazy angles, and she still wore the wrinkled, stained black shirt she’d had on since leaving her apartment. Not to mention she hadn’t seen a ray of sunlight in about a year.

  “Mom! When are the De Lunas coming over for dinner?” So, what? He talks to you and suddenly you’re salivating?

  Also: Shut up, Inner Critic.

  Catherine stepped out of the kitchen. “Half an hour or so. Why don’t you clean up a little before our guests arrive? Janelle, would you help me with the avocado rolls?”

  Alyssa squinted at her mother. Could she be…up to something?

  Time was a-wasting. Intrigue could wait. Twelve minutes later she wore a white-and-red floral print dress. The sparkly green earrings, bracelet and necklace from her sister complemented the outfit. Thank goodness she’d gotten a manicure in anticipation of her big engagement night. A quick shower and a little makeup went a long way toward erasing evidence of fatigue.

  “You look fancy,” Janelle told her in the half-complimentary, half-condescending way that only little sisters could manage, no matter how old they were. Janelle was three years younger, and at twenty-four still the baby in the family.

  “Thanks!” Alyssa bounded past her to the door. The doorbell had just begun to chime when she yanked it open. “Hi, Ms. De Luna.”

  “Hello, dear. You remember my sons, Marc and Julian.” It wasn’t hard to see where Marc got his handsomeness from—he had his mother’s eyes. Their father was taller, and thin. Julian favored him, but Alyssa hardly noticed him beyond that fact.

  “Where can I put this tray?” asked Mrs. De Luna.

  “Over here.” She held the door open and gestured for Janelle to take it. Her sister shot her a long-suffering look.

  Marc was the last person to enter the house, carrying a large bouquet of flowers. Alyssa couldn’t stop a huge grin from overtaking her face. “For me?” she joked nervously.

  Whoa, Nellie. Alyssa’s stomach churned at her own boldness. It wasn’t as if saying hello over the garbage cans had changed anything. He’s always noticed, a little voice reminded her smugly.

  It’s Marc. You’re fresh meat. Don’t get your hopes up. Too late.

  “This one is,” he replied, separating one huge white lily out of the bunch. He broke the stem with a practiced twist and tucked the bloom behind her ear.

  She took a deep breath and imagined braces around her knees. She was not going to collapse from a little neighborly flirtation. Still, if she was the slightest brush of Marc’s fingertips against her hair could make her weak-kneed, she’d had no business even thinking about getting engaged to Zach.

  “Come this way,” she said.

  “Any way you want,” he replied.

  Alyssa stumbled. She must have imagined the smirk in his voice. He could’ve intended it as a perfectly innocent comment. It didn’t stop the blush from creeping over her cheeks. If only she’d gotten a tan before she came here so it wouldn’t be so noticeable.

  Dirty mind, Aly. Get a grip!

  “Marco, want a beer?” Alyssa’s dad came over, providing her with a merciful escape.

  He handed the bouquet to her mother, who declared them lovely and went in search of a vase. Marc turned and locked eyes with her. The heat went nuclear, spreading from her core into every limb until her spine threatened to melt. The corners of his eyes crinkled, and his sexy mouth pulled up at the corners in a suppressed smile. Alyssa gave her head a tiny shake.

  Marc De Luna had intended that comment exactly the way she’d heard it.

  3

&
nbsp; Away from Marc’s flirtations, doubt cat-footed its way through her psyche. Nothing had changed since her last visit, when he’d barely said hello over the fence separating their parents’ yards. She was just Alyssa, same person he’d spoken a handful of words to in all the years her parents had lived next door to his. Marc was the kind of guy who made girls’ panties wet just by walking into the room—at least the ones like her, who wore undergarments. He might toy with her, but there was no way his interest was serious.

  On the other hand, she didn’t need serious. She’d had more serious than she could handle until fifteen hours ago. She needed fun. Thinking about it logically, Marc offered the perfect rebound opportunity: he was here, she was in New York. Even if it all went cockeyed, there’d be enough time until her next visit to smooth over the worst of the awkwardness.

  She shook her head. She was getting ahead of herself. He’d given her a flower and made a mildly risqué joke. It didn’t mean he wanted to jump her bones, no matter how often she’d fantasized about jumping his.

  A whisper of warm evening air ran along her neck. She took a seat at the glass patio table. As she sat, the scent of sea and old water whuffed up from the seat cushions. Janelle came back with a bottle and filled her glass with lychee wine. The sweetness made her mouth pucker.

  The chair next to hers screeched across the flagstone patio.

  “Sorry,” Marc said, wincing as he sat beside her. “I was wondering where you’d disappeared to.”

  “You know me, hiding from the crowd.” Alyssa groaned inwardly. She was so bad at flirting. She’d always been the quiet one, the girl whose friends vented about relationship woes.

  Quit overthinking it. She sat up straighter. Fine. If Marc wanted a fling, something short-term, she was game. Maybe Marc was just what she needed to forget Zach, engagement rings, and New York.