Call It What You Want

CALL IT WHAT YOU WANT LAWSON LOVERS BOOK ONE BRITT MCKENNA Copyright © 2023 by Britt McKenna Cover Design by Molly Phipps at We Got You Covered Book Design All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. To Dan, Our love story is my favorite. CONTENTS 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 Chapter 45 Chapter 46 Chapter 47 Chapter 48 Chapter 49 Chapter 50 Epilogue Thank You! Worth A Thousand Words Acknowledgments About the Author Also by Britt McKenna CHAPTER 1 Avery I’m pulled from a deep sleep—the kind I only fall into after a particularly heavenly orgasm. The kind that makes your limbs go limp and your worries soften at the edges, allowing you to forget all the stress of your day to day and simply relax. I stretch my arms above my head, feeling the silky sheets slide down my bare stomach, and I smile to myself. Last night was amazing. It’d been too long since I’d had sex. Work has kept me busy, but now that my client’s press tour for his latest movie is over, I finally have a break. And I plan to spend most of it in bed, satisfying the hussy within who’s missed having her every need met. I roll onto my stomach, propping my chin on my forearms and finally lift my heavy eyelids. Sleepy eyes take in my boyfriend’s rumpled black sheets. A frown tugs at my lips when I realize he’s not in bed. A quick glance at the digital clock on his nightstand reveals it’s barely past four in the morning. Like me, Spencer is a workaholic, but he doesn’t start his day until five. Worried something is wrong, I climb out of bed and grab one of his t-shirts from the floor. I throw it on. The soft cotton falls past my lacy underwear as I venture out of the masculine bedroom to search for Spencer. It doesn’t take long to find him standing on the balcony. The sliding glass door is open. The city’s ever-present lights outline his body. He’s on the phone, but his posture is relaxed. Clearly, this isn’t a business call. With a wicked grin, I tiptoe towards the patio, determined to wrap myself around Spencer and lure him back to bed for some early morning delight. I’m seconds from trailing my fingers over his delicious muscles when I hear him say, “I miss you too, baby. Don’t worry. I’ll come over tonight and show you just how much.” I freeze. It can’t be. “I love you too, Stacy. I can’t wait to see you.” The words are a knife to the heart. This can’t be happening. Spencer and I have been together for five years. All my friends have been saying they think he’s going to propose. In a daze, I back away from the patio. Somehow, I make it back to Spencer’s bedroom. I’m sitting on the mattress, my mind spinning, when he walks back into the room. I hadn’t bothered to turn on a light, but the glow of the city shines in through the blinds. “Shit, Avery!” Spencer exclaims. “You scared me. What the hell are you doing sitting in the dark?” “Who’s Stacy?” My voice is dull. Lifeless. The question isn’t accusatory. It’s just a question. One I want him to answer. “What?” His pitch spikes. That’s when I know he’s guilty. I realize I don’t need an explanation. Anything he tells me is likely to be a lie, anyway. Without another word, I stand and begin to gather my belongings. I rip off his t-shirt like it burns, tossing it back on the floor with more force than necessary. I shimmy into my strapless, black midi dress. “Avery, baby… what are you doing?” Spencer steps in my path as I try to walk into the bathroom. “I’m leaving.” “Baby.” He tries to reach for me. I brush past him before he can touch me. “Talk to me. What’s going on?” I flip on the light, then toss the few toiletries I keep at his place in my bag. I’d thought Spencer didn’t like clutter—that’s why he insisted I not leave too many things over here. Now, I’m wondering if he simply didn’t want any other woman to realize he had a girlfriend. “Baby?” He calls again. This time, he stands in the doorway, blocking my exit. I square my shoulders and meet his gaze. Again, I ask, “Who’s Stacy?” “Look, I don’t know what you think you heard, but Stacy is just—” “Get out of my way, Spencer. I’m not an idiot. We’re done. I’m not going to be with someone who’s cheating on me.” No matter how mind-blowing the sex is. If I’m being honest, it’s pretty much the only thing we have going for us. Our relationship wasn’t always this way. Once upon a time, just a couple years out of college, Spencer and I clicked on an emotional level. We valued each other’s sense of humor and work ethic, and we dreamed of conquering New York City together. But as the years passed, our careers took over our lives. I convinced myself it was just a phase—that sex wasn’t all that linked us nowadays. I was wrong. “Avery.” Spencer runs a hand through his hair. He switches