Hometown Girl Read online

  “She didn’t tell me who she was.”

  “Did you ask?”

  “No.”

  “If you had asked, would she have told you?”

  “Yeah. Trouble was a real pest, but she was never a liar.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “The problem is that I slept with my little sister’s best friend!”

  “She’s a grown woman now. Son, every woman used to be a little girl at one time. Just thank the good Lord they outgrow it.” Pete patted his back. “You met a grown woman who you happened to know when you were both kids. It sounds to me like you just fell in love with a hometown girl. There’s nothing sick or twisted about that.”

  When Pete put it like that, it sounded almost normal.

  “Now the question is,” Pete continued, “how badly did you screw things up?”

  Simon groaned. “I accused her of tricking me into bed, threw a chair across my loft, and told her to leave.”

  “Yup.” Pete shook his head. “I was afraid of that. Well, are you going after her?”

  Simon put his elbows on the bar and held his head in his hands. He had wanted to—every minute of every hour since the second she ran out of his loft. “How can I? I don’t even know where she lives or have her number.”

  Pete sat back and sipped his next shot. “I guess it’s time for the hard part.”

  “Yeah, what’s that?”

  “Groveling. I think you need to call that pesky little sister of yours.”

  * * *

  Elyse pulled a pillow over her head to block the bright sunlight streaming into her apartment. She took the place because she loved all the light. Now she was thinking of investing in blackout shades.

  “If I were a mad rapist, would you have rolled over and ignored me?”

  When had Mel snuck in? “I’d have tried.”

  The pillow shielding her eyes was yanked away and then hurled back at her.

  “Leave me alone.”

  “I just came from Simon’s. You slept with my brother and didn’t even tell me? Not that I want specifics or anything, because, let’s face it, that would just be icky. But you should have said something.”

  Elyse was going to die of embarrassment, she was sure of it. She hid her face in her hands. “I can’t believe he told you.”

  “I can’t believe you didn’t.”

  Elyse looked through spread fingers. “What did you expect me to say, Mel? He didn’t even know who I was. When he found out”—she wiped away angry tears—“he thinks I duped him into sleeping with me. Keeping my mouth shut was self-preservation.”

  “Well, you know the old saying, when you fall off a horse, you grab the next stud you see, jump on, and giddy-up.”

  “They don’t say that. No one says that.”

  Mel rolled her eyes. “If they don’t, they should. It’s the best advice in a situation such as this.”

  “I love him, Mel. I love him and I’ve ruined it. I might as well have lied to him. I knew he didn’t recognize me. The worst part, well, other than the way he looked at me, was that I hurt him. I never meant to hurt him.”

  “It serves him right. How many women has he hurt over the years—not to mention what he did to you? Maybe now that he stomped all over your rose-colored glasses, you’ll finally get over him.” Mel swatted her with the pillow. “Now get your butt out of bed, go put on the cute bikini and flirty little cover-up we bought a few weeks ago, and let’s go to the beach. You’ll have your pick of studs.”

  “I don’t want a stud. I want Simon.”

  Mel’s phone dinged. She looked at a text, rolled her eyes, answered, and hit send. A second later her phone rang. She ignored it.

  “Don’t you want to get that?”

  “No.”

  “Why? Who is it?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “Is it Simon?”

  “Of course it’s Simon. He just figured out what an ass he is. He asked me for your address and number.”

  “Did you give it to him?”

  “No, I told him to go to hell, which is exactly what you should do—although from the look of him, I think he’s already been there for a while.” She paced the bedroom. “Enough about him, let’s get out of here and do something fun.”

  Right now, the last thing Elyse felt capable of was fun. “Thanks, but not interested. You go ahead. I’m just going to stay here and go back to sleep.”

  “I can’t let you do that. It’s my job as your best friend to keep you from wallowing in self-pity.”

  “I’m fine. I’m just not up to pretending to have fun. I love you, Mel, and I appreciate you being here for me, but right now, I just want to be left alone.”

  “Too bad. You’re coming with me. Now get up and get going or I’ll be forced to give Simon your address and number.”

  “You wouldn’t dare.” One look at Mel told her she would. Dammit. “Fine, I’ll go. but I refuse to have fun.”

  “Whatever. You know I’m going to change your mind. All it’ll take is a few beers and a Fudgsicle.”

  * * *

  Elyse climbed the stairs to her place, not wanting to get sand in the elevator. Mel followed her up, bopping her in the butt with her inner tube.

  “Admit it. You had fun.”

  “Fine. You win. I had a great time.” It was impossible to stay depressed at the beach, and she was even able to catch up on her sleep—which was a miracle since that required Mel to be quiet.

  Elyse never thought she would get used to sleeping with someone after only two nights, but it seemed she had. Ever since Simon threw her out, she’d sleep for an hour only to wake up reaching for him and remember what happened. Then she’d be awake for a few hours until she repeated the whole process. Love really sucked.

  Elyse pushed open the stairwell door and Mel let it slam behind her. “Shhh.”

  Her neighbor’s door opened and she peaked out.

  “Hi, Mrs. Friedman. How are you?”

  “Did you have a nice time at the beach?”

  “Yes, it was wonderful.” Elyse gave her a smile. “Have a good night.”

  “Are you staying in for the evening?”

  That was weird. “Yes, I was planning to. Is there something you need?”

  “Oh, no.” Mrs. Friedman waved her wrinkled hand. “I have Bernie here if I need anything.”

  “Okay, well, good night.”

  “Good night, dear.” Mrs. Friedman shut her door.

  Elyse gave Mel a shrug when she noticed her puzzled expression.

  “Is she still trying to fix you up with her grandson?”

  “Not since I convinced her I wasn’t Jewish. She wants Bernie to marry a nice Jewish girl.”

  “Oh, that’s a real loss.”

  Elyse stepped into her apartment and took the inner tube. “Mel, thanks for making me go to the beach with you.”

  Mel followed her in, definitely not taking the hint. “What? Are you kicking me out?”

  “No, I just thought you might want to go home.”

  “Not particularly. How about some takeout?”

  “Fine. Go ahead and get a shower. I’ll order in. What do you want, Thai, Chinese, Indian, or pizza?”

  “Pizza.” Mel skirted around her on the way to the bathroom.

  “Make sure you leave some hot water for me.”

  Elyse put her things away, tossed her cover-up in the hamper, straightened up the kitchen and living room, and then grabbed the pile of take-out menus she found on her bedside table. She paged through them and heard a knock on the door. So much for Mrs. Friedman not needing anything. She looked through the peephole and groaned when she saw Simon. Her kegel muscles involuntarily contracted.

  “Elyse, I know you’re there. Come on. Open the door. I just want to talk to you.”

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  The bathroom door opened and Mel stepped out wearing a towel. “Is the food here already?” Of course this would be the one time Mel would listen to
her and take a quick shower.

  Elyse shook her head. “It’s Simon,” she whispered.

  “Ignore him, maybe he’ll go away.” Mel hissed back.

  Simon knocked again. “Elyse, I saw your lights turn on, I saw you walking around. Please, just let me in. After you hear me out, I’ll leave if that’s still what you want.”

  She stood there next to the door wanting nothing more than to open it, but the last thing she needed to hear was him telling her what a mistake they’d made.

  “Okay, if you won’t let me in. I’ll have to do this through the door. I don’t think Mrs. Friedman will mind. She likes me.”

  What? When had he befriended Mrs. Friedman?

  She looked through the peephole and watched Simon stuff his hands into the pockets of his jeans, looking incredibly edible. “I’m sorry, Elyse. More sorry than I can ever say.”

  She looked over at Mel whose mouth had dropped open.

  Elyse shook her head wishing she was Samantha Stevens and could make both of the Spragues disappear with the twitch of her nose.

  Simon cleared his throat, drawing her eye back to the peephole. He raked his hand through his hair. “I handled the whole thing badly—I was shocked when I realized . . . I should never have said what I said about you and Mel setting me up. I was way off base. If it’s any consolation, Mel stopped by my place and damn, she ripped me a new one—not that I didn’t deserve it.”

  Mel came up close, “He said he’s sorry?” she whispered.

  Elyse nodded.

  “He never apologizes. Ever. You know that.”

  “So?” Elyse whispered back.

  “Elyse, please.” Simon continued. Now he was leaning against the wall across the hall so she could see all of him. That was so not fair. “The time I spent with you . . .” He stepped forward and rested both hands on her door and looked as if he could see her through it. “Baby, please let me in. It would be a whole lot easier if I didn’t have to grovel in front of Mrs. Friedman.”

  Mel nudged her.

  “What?” she hissed at Mel.

  “He’s apologizing,” Mel whispered back.

  “I know that, I’m not deaf. Everyone of my neighbors knows it too.”

  “Well, maybe you should let him in.”

  “With you here? Mel, he’ll think it’s another setup.”

  “I’ll hide in the bathroom.”

  “Oh, that would be just great. That way when he catches you, it will look even worse.”

  “Then go out there.”

  “In my bathing suit?”

  “You look amazing.”

  “Right.”

  “Elyse.” Simon knocked again. “I know it takes a long time for you to make a decision, but babe, you’re killing me here.” He turned away from the door. “Hi, Mrs. Friedman. No, everything is fine. I’m just waiting for Elyse.”

  Mel pointed at the door. “Go out there. I’ve never heard Simon like this. At least hear what he has to say.”

  “Elyse, please. Give me a second chance. I’m begging you.” He stepped closer. “Baby, I love the way you move and how you blush all the time. I love that little nervous laugh of yours and the way you tilt your head when you think I’m nuts. I love the way you have to sleep with your feet out, and then you stick them in between mine when they’re cold. I love your smile—it lights up my whole world. I lo—”

  Before Elyse knew what had happened, her purse had been dropped over her shoulder and she was being pushed out her own door, right into Simon.

  * * *

  Simon felt like a stalker talking to Elyse through her door. He’d broken down and called his mother knowing she would have Elyse’s contact information.

  He couldn’t believe he’d been reduced to professing his love through a closed door with Mrs. Friedman watching, but desperate times called for desperate measures. He was just going to have to do it and hope to hell she was listening and not sitting around with headphones stuck in her ears. “Elyse,” he raised his voice a little more. He was well past the point of total embarrassment. He may as well give all the neighbors something to talk about.

  Then, she was there, pushed into his waiting arms, pressed tight against him. His arms went around her as if by their own volition.

  She blinked up at him, her cheeks turning even brighter red than her sunburned chest.

  “I love you.”

  She didn’t say anything; she just stood barefoot, wearing a little black bikini with her purse thrown over her shoulder.

  He tugged her tighter and kissed her until he felt her relax. “Remind me to thank Mel.”

  “You knew?”

  “I recognized the hand she almost slammed in the door.”

  “You’re not mad?”

  “Not if she was instrumental in getting you on this side of the door, I’m not. I love the bikini by the way.”

  If it was possible, Elyse turned even redder.

  “Are you going to let me in or am I going to have to kiss you again in front of all your neighbors?”

  Elyse looked up and down the hallway and her jaw dropped. Every door within earshot was open.

  “Oh, Elyse.” Mrs. Friedman stepped closer. “He seems like such a nice boy, and since Bernie’s moved on, you should let him in. It’s not like you get many gentleman callers.”

  “Who’s Bernie?”

  Elyse’s door opened and Mel stood there with her keys in hand and her backpack slung over her shoulder. “Don’t ask. Just come in. I’m leaving—I so don’t want to see the kiss either.”

  “Tough.” He picked Elyse up, her yelp of surprise opening her mouth just enough for his purpose. He carried her inside, kissing her until they were both breathless. By the time he set her down Mel was long gone.

  * * *

  Elyse pulled herself away from Simon, she was sticky and sandy and probably getting suntan oil all over his clothes. She still couldn’t believe he was talking to her, no less standing there in her apartment looking at her as if he wanted to toss her over his shoulder and take her to bed.

  “Are you going to give me another chance or am I going to have to grovel more? It’s okay. You’re worth it. I’m just happy to be doing it face-to-face.”

  “No.”

  “No more groveling, or no, you’re not going to give me another chance?” He pulled her closer and when his lips slid over her shoulder, her train of thought completely derailed.

  “Stop it. I can’t think when you’re touching me.”

  He dropped his hands from her waist, stepped back, and his face fell. “I’m sorry. I won’t touch you. Or at least I’ll try not to. God, Elyse, I’ve missed you. I know it sounds crazy, but I’ve never felt like this before. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can’t even work—I thought Pete was going to fire me today because I was a complete screwup all week. I can’t stop thinking about you. Can you forgive me?”

  She stepped closer. “Can you forgive me? I lied to you . . . by omission. Though at first, I had no idea you didn’t recognize me. I didn’t know until you called me Fitz. If I had told you—”

  “I would never have given you the time of day. You were right. I’m so damn glad you didn’t say anything—this one time.”

  “What changed your mind?”

  “Pete told me I fell in love with a woman who I just happened to grow up with. There’s nothing wrong with falling in love with a hometown girl.”

  “Smart man.”

  Simon smiled and kissed her. “So what’s it gonna be?”

  “A shower. I’m sticky and greasy and sandy.”

  “And gorgeous. But that’s not what I’m talking about. What’s it gonna be? It’s like the curse of the relationship question.” He kissed her again and steered her down the hallway toward the bathroom.

  She knew her smile was so wide she probably looked like a mental patient. “I don’t know. It’s a big decision.” She nipped his lower lip.

  Simon groaned. “Are we going to have to do another list of the pros an
d cons? Pros first. I’m great in bed.”

  “Sure, but how are you in the shower?” She started the water.

  “You’re in love with me.” Simon kissed her like she’d dreamed of all week as he untied her bikini top and slid her bottoms down.

  She pulled her mouth away from his and tugged his shirt from his pants. “There you go again. Are you always so sure of yourself?”

  “No, Mel told me.”

  “I’m gonna kill her.”

  “So it’s true?”

  “Simon, I thought I was in love with you since I was a kid, but I was wrong. What I felt for you back then can’t even compare to what I feel now.”

  “Is that a good thing?”

  “It wasn’t last week, that’s for sure. I knew I’d end up hurt, but I never imagined it could be like that.”

  He pulled her close, as if he’d forgotten he wasn’t finished undressing. “I’ve proved that I excel at groveling and I’m getting over my fear of saying I’m sorry.” The joking face fell away; there was desperation in his eyes. “I really do love you. So much so it scares me.”

  He looked so serious. Way too serious. “Okay, let’s move onto the cons.”

  “Of you saying no or yes?”

  “Yes.”

  “If you agree to resume our relationship, we have to go to my parents for dinner on Sunday.”

  “Seriously? Why? Oh, God, did Mel tell them?”

  “No, I did. How do you think I got your address? Besides, I needed to talk to my dad. I wanted to tell him that I finally understood what it was like to fall in love. You see, he told me when I was sixteen, and I never believed him.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Other than it took me long enough?”

  “Yeah.”

  “He laughed his ass off. He said you were perfect for me. Only you could bamboozle me into getting out of my own way.”

  Elyse laughed. “Since I can’t come up with any more cons, I guess the pros win.” She slid her hand over his jaw and looked into his silver-grey eyes. “I love you, Simon. I always have and I always will. Now come on, the water’s getting cold.”

  Read on for an excerpt from

  Robin Kaye’s

  next charming Bad Boys of Red Hook romance.