The Space Between Us Read online

  Everyone has a story...

  Tesla Martin is drifting pleasantly through life, slinging lattes at Morningstar Mocha, enjoying the ebb and flow of caffeine-starved customers, devoted to her cadre of regulars. But none of the bottomless-cup crowd compares with Meredith, a charismatic force of nature who can coax intimate tales from even the shyest of Morningstar’s clientele.

  Caught in Meredith’s sensual, irresistible orbit, inexpressibly flattered by the siren’s intoxicating attention, Tesla shares long-buried chapters of her life, holding nothing back. Nothing Meredith proposes seems impossible—not even sleeping with her husband, Charlie, while she looks on. After all, it’s all in fun, isn’t it?

  In a heartbeat, vulnerable Tesla is swept into a willing and spectacular love triangle. Together, gentle, grounded Charlie and sparkling, maddening Meredith are everything Tesla has ever needed, wanted or even dreamed of, even if no one else on earth understands. They’re three against the world...

  But soon one of the vertices begins pulling away until only two points remain—and the space between them gapes with confusion, with grief and with possibility....

  “Megan Hart is easily one of the most talented voices I’ve encountered.”—The Romance Reader

  Also by Megan Hart

  From Harlequin MIRA

  ALL FALL DOWN

  PRECIOUS AND FRAGILE THINGS

  From Spice Books

  COLLIDE

  NAKED

  SWITCH

  DEEPER

  STRANGER

  TEMPTED

  BROKEN

  DIRTY

  MEGAN HART

  The Space Between Us

  This book is dedicated first to Superman, who can’t dance

  worth a damn but who’s always willing to give it a shot.

  To my family and friends, of course and as always,

  because without you I would never have any stories to tell.

  To the BootSquad, for reading this and helping me make it better.

  To my bestie, Lauren Dane,

  who sometimes sends me links to horrific porn.

  Contents

  Prelude

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Acknowledgments

  Everyone has a story.

  Here’s how this one ends.

  Charlie’s mouth.

  That’s what I want on my body now. His hands and mouth. Tongue, teeth, fingers. I want the crush of him on top of me, the silken brush of his hair against my flesh, the whisper of his lashes as he closes his eyes when he kisses me.

  I want Charlie’s mouth, and yet something makes me turn my face when he moves in close. Charlie sighs and presses his forehead to mine. His eyes shut, but I can’t seem to close mine. I have to see him, even this close. Every hair and pore, every scar. Every blemish and flaw that make Charlie so perfect.

  “If I’d known,” Charlie says. His hands are heavy, one on my shoulder, the other on my hip. His breath smells of whiskey and smoke. He looks like Charlie, but he doesn’t smell like him.

  I don’t want Charlie to wish he’d made a different choice. Please, Charlie, I think. Please don’t tell me you wish you’d missed all of this.

  Charlie sighs. “It’s just…there’s this space between us. This big wide space. And I don’t know what to do with it.”

  We fill it, I want to tell him, but say nothing. The words won’t come. If I can’t kiss him, how on earth could I possibly tell him that I love him? That it doesn’t matter where Meredith’s gone or if she’s coming back. All we need is right here. The two of us will find a way to make things work. That it will all be okay.

  I could tell him that, I think, as Charlie pulls away. His back is toward me. His shoulders slump. The jutting lines of his shoulder blades urge me to reach and touch, but my fingers curl in on themselves instead. I touch myself because I won’t touch him. I could tell Charlie it will all be okay. It will all work out. But though I can’t say I’ve never told a lie in my life, none of them have been to Charlie. I’m not about to start now.

  “I’m sorry,” Charlie says again in a low hoarse voice. He doesn’t sound like Charlie now, either.

  “I’m not,” I say finally. “I’m not sorry about any of it, Charlie.”

  And that, at least, is the truth.

  Chapter 1

  Everyone has a story. That was Meredith’s schtick. How she got us talking. Sometimes she asked about our favorite childhood candy, our biggest fears. What we’d dreamed about the night before. She asked, we answered. I never thought to question her about why she wanted to know, just like it never occurred to me to wonder why we all wanted to tell her.

  Today it was about crazy.

  “So, Tesla, tell me. What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done?” Meredith said this with gleaming eyes and lips wet from where she’d licked them.

  Unlike some of the other times, I didn’t have a ready answer for her. “Haven’t I told you enough stories?”

  She shook her head, her sleek honey-blond hair falling just so on the shoulders of her soft, pale blue cardigan. “Never enough. Carlos here already told me about how once he got caught jerking off to old people porn.”

  I paused, jug of coffee in my hand, and looked at them both. “Whaaaat?”

  Carlos is a writer. We get a lot of them in Morningstar Mocha because we offer a bottomless refill for under two bucks, and free Wi-Fi. Carlos was in there every day, tapping away at his keyboard with his earbuds in before he headed off to his day job. Today he’d succumbed to the seduction of Meredith’s charm and actually closed the lid of his laptop. That was pretty crazy.

  Meredith came to the Mocha to use the free internet and drink coffee like the writers did, but she wasn’t a writer. Meredith sold things—candles and cookware and jewelry, all from those home-party companies. She wasn’t annoying about it the way Lisa, who sold Spicefully Tasty products, was. Meredith would be happy to sell you a pair of earrings or a fancy-smelling jar of wax if you asked her to, but she never pushed her stuff on anyone. She knew how to be subtle.

  Well, mostly.

  “Porn of old people fucking,” she said. “You know. Like lemon party.”

  I didn’t even know what that was, but Carlos made a face, so I guess he did.

  “I was young. It was all I could find.” He shrugged, barely embarrassed.

  I laughed, put the full jug on the counter and lifted the empty one. “No offense, but that doesn’t sound too crazy to me. I mean, who hasn’t looked at gross porn at least once or twice.”

  I paused, just to give him a little bit of a hard time. “Can’t say I’ve ever bu