Flawed

by Tracy Wolff

  “Yeah,” I answer with a shrug. “But I don’t know. Maybe he was right to do what he did. I’m twenty-three years old. It’s past time I grew up and got my shit together.”

  “You are getting your shit together,” Chloe tells me, outraged. “You got your degree, you’re looking for a job, you’ve stopped partying and getting drunk. You’re looking for a decent guy instead of a string of one-night stands that were as much a fuck-you to your family as they were about you getting off. It sounds to me like you’re doing a hell of a good job at getting your life together.”

  I laugh. “Yeah, if you don’t count the fact that I’m in the middle of a sex scandal and that I’m living off the generosity of my best friend and her family because I literally have nowhere else to go. I’m totally getting my life together. Abso-freaking-lutely.”

  “Okay, dial it down, drama queen,” she says. “Don’t you think you should cut yourself a little bit of a break considering everything that’s happened in the last few days?”

  “I think that’s the problem. I think I’ve given myself too much of a break for too long. About everything. It’s past time for me to put on my big-girl panties and clean up the mess I’ve made of my life.”

  My voice breaks as I say the words, and suddenly I can’t stand to be on the couch for one second longer with Chloe gazing at me sympathetically. I get up, walk over to the huge picture window that makes up one wall of the living room, and gaze out at the moody Pacific. It’s so much grayer up here than in San Diego, so much darker and wilder that it barely feels like the same ocean.

  Not that I’m complaining. Dark and moody fit my vibe just fine right now.

  “I beg to differ,” Chloe says after letting me brood for a few minutes. “You’ve got your big-girl panties on and you’re doing exactly what you need to do.”

  “I’m not actually wearing any panties at the moment, so…”

  She cracks up, just as I intend her to. But instead of acknowledging what a disaster I am, she turns the tables and says, “See? You’re doing such a good job getting your life together that you don’t even need your big-girl panties.”

  I gag a little and she laughs again. “Too much?”

  “A little,” I agree.

  She shrugs philosophically. “Better too much than too little. You need someone in your corner right now.”

  “What I need is a job,” I say for the third time since I walked through the front door. No matter what Chloe says, it’s Miles’s words that are playing over and over in my head, reminding me of how useless I am. How much of a mess I am. How utterly incompetent I am at living my own damn life. It’s humiliating and heartbreaking and absolutely devastating—the fact that he sees me like that and, more, the fact that he’s right.

  “I already told you that Ethan and I can help with that,” Chloe responds. “He’s got openings up here and in San Diego. Just say the word and one of them can be yours.”

  I want to say no, want to tell her how much I appreciate the thought but I want to make my own way. Want to do this myself. But losers can’t be choosers, and the fact of the matter is, my face has been plastered all over the Internet for days, and even though the story has spun off in a totally different direction thanks to Miles, that doesn’t mean I’m not recognizable as the girl in the Alexander Parsons sex tape. I won’t be that girl forever, but for now I am, and trying to get a job with that hanging over my head isn’t going to be easy. At least not if I want a job that requires me to keep my clothes on…

  The truth is, I can’t afford to wait for things to die down. Not if I want to take control over the mess that is my life. And not if I don’t want to spent the next three months sponging off my friends. “I’m good with whatever Ethan’s got that he thinks I might be qualified for,” I tell her softly.

  For a second, she doesn’t answer, her mouth hanging open in shock. “Really? You want to work at Frost? Really?”

  “Yeah. I mean, if you guys will have me—”

  “Of course we’ll have you!” She claps her hands together, nearly jumps up and down with excitement. “Now the only questions are, what do you want to do and where do you want to do it? Here or in San Diego?”

  A part of me—a very large part—is screaming at me to say San Diego. That’s home, and more, it’s where Miles is. I just realized how I felt about him, and even though we won’t be getting back together—if we ever were together—there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to leave San Diego, that doesn’t want to break that last tie.

  Of course, that reluctance is a pretty big reason why I should leave San Diego. Getting away from Miles and my feelings for him is probably the fastest way to move on. To forget how much I’ve come to care about him. To forget how much I love him.

  But trying to eke out a living in San Francisco on an entry-level salary probably isn’t going to happen. And running away might be my modus operandi, but part of putting on my big-girl panties is learning how not to do that. Learning how to stay and face my problems instead of ducking out at the first sign of trouble.

  “San Diego, I guess. It’s easier to find an apartment that won’t take my whole salary. Not that I expect a lot,” I rush to tell her, afraid of how that came out. “I know I’m starting at the bottom.”

  “Ethan takes care of his employees. Plus, you know you’re welcome to stay with us. We’d love to have you.”

  “Yes, because what I need to do is crash my bff’s newlywed nest long-term,” I answer with a snort. “So not going to happen.”

  “It’s more a mansion than it is a nest,” she tells me. “And I swear, I’d love to have you. I have Ethan and Violet and they’re wonderful, but being married and a mom sets me way apart from my classmates. It gets lonely up here sometimes. Having you around would totally fix that.”

  “Funny, but you don’t look lonely.”

  “Funny, but you don’t look like you’re not wearing any panties,” she says with a smirks. “Appearances can be deceiving.”

  “Okay, okay.” I hold my hands up in defeat. “Let’s talk to Ethan, see what open positions he thinks I might be able to fill—if any. And then we’ll decide where I’m going to live based on where the job is. Sound good?”

  “Sounds great.” She loops an arm through mine and starts dragging me toward the kitchen. “Now you can pour the wine while I get dinner on the table. I’m starving.”

  —

  Dinner goes by quickly as Ethan and I discuss possible jobs I might be interested in—and, more important, suited for. At this point I’m interested in any job that will help me put a roof over my head and shoes on my feet, considering the only pair I currently own are a pair of flip-flops I bought for ten bucks at a convenience store halfway between LA and San Francisco. Thank God I don’t actually have to interview for this position or I would be screwed. Somehow I doubt yoga pants and flip-flops will cut it at Frost Industries.

  After going over about a dozen different jobs, we decide I might be best trying my hand at employee event planning for human resources. Frost Industries has weekly employee get-togethers, monthly events that employees can bring their families to, plus a ton of training opportunities that need to be organized by someone. It might as well be me.

  After all, I’ve planned hundreds of events in my life—everything from small gatherings to huge parties and charity galas—and I love doing it. Considering I thought I’d start out as an assistant to somebody’s PA, I couldn’t be happier with the job. Even if it is in San Diego.

  The idea of going back to Ethan and Chloe’s house, of living with Miles until I get my first couple of paychecks, makes me sick to my stomach. And while Chloe totally offered to loan me some money until I get on my feet, I won’t take anything else from her. She and Ethan are already giving me a job and a place to live. If I took anything else, I wouldn’t be able to look myself in the mirror.

  Besides, I have to face Miles eventually. He’s Chloe’s brother, which means no matter how badly things ended between us,
I’m still going to have to see him. Chloe, Ethan, and Violet are my only family now and he’s her family, so it’s no stretch to assume we’re going to be running into each other a lot. Just like we did before we decided to jump into bed together. Before I made the colossal mistake of falling in love with a man who doesn’t respect me.

  In his defense, it’s not like I’ve given him much to respect.

  But that all changes tomorrow, I tell myself as I pull on the pajamas I borrowed from Chloe and slide gratefully into bed. It hasn’t been that long a day for me, time-wise anyway, but I am totally and completely exhausted. Probably because my emotions have been all over the place since I woke up this morning.

  I don’t know how long it takes me to get to sleep, or how long I am asleep, but sometime in the middle of the night I jerk awake. At first I’m not sure what woke me, but then it registers that someone is sitting at the bottom of the bed. Someone big and hard and very obviously male.

  I start to scream, but then Miles is there, his hands wrapped around my upper arms. His face close to mine. “Ssssh,” he murmurs and I feel my heartbeat going down from oh-my-God-I’m-going-to-be-murdered levels to the still frantic but not as frantic oh-shit-the-guy-I’m-still-in-love-with-even-though-we-just-broke-up-is-sitting-on-my-bed levels. It’s a subtle but important distinction…

  But as he eases off me, letting my arms go because he obviously thinks the threat has passed, I’m suddenly filled with rage. Rage that he would sneak into my room and scare the hell out of me with so little compunction and rage that he has the nerve to sneak into my room in the middle of the night at all. Especially with the fight we had less than twenty-four hours ago.

  It doesn’t take long before I’m at can’t-think-I’m-so-mad levels, and I start pummeling his chest with my fists.

  “Tori, stop!” he hisses, trying to grab my hands. “It’s me, Miles.”

  “I know who it is,” I snarl back, continuing to hit him wherever he presents me an opening. “You scared the hell out of me! What were you thinking sneaking in here in the middle of the night! What if I was armed? I could have killed you!”

  “I thought it was a pretty safe bet that you weren’t,” he tells me as he finally manages to grab hold of both my wrists in one of his big hands. He smooths the other one over my back in soothing circles. “Considering you drove away without your shoes or underwear this morning.”

  “How did you know I didn’t have underwear on this morning?” It’s a stupid question, and the least of what I want to ask him. But I’m still half asleep and the words tumble out of my mouth without my permission.

  “How would I not know? I’m the man who’s sleeping with you. I notice these things.”

  “You’re the man who was sleeping with me. Big difference between is and was, dude.”

  “Maybe there is. But one fight doesn’t end a relationship, even if one of the people in the relationship runs away before anything is even settled.” He finally lets go of my wrists, but only so he can pull me closer—so close, in fact, that I’m practically sitting on his lap.

  “I didn’t run away!” I tell him, and suddenly my heart is beating fast all over again. But for very different reasons. “I left because I had nothing else to say.”

  “Well, good for you. Because I had a lot left to say.”

  “I’m pretty sure you said enough.”

  I struggle against his hold on general principle, even go so far as to push against his chest. But we both know I’m not going anywhere, even before he tightens his arms and murmurs, “Stop that.”

  “Look, I know I said shit the wrong way and I’m sorry about that. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you.”

  “It’s not that you hurt me. And it’s not that you said it the wrong way. It’s that I’m a mess and I need to—”

  “You’re not a mess.”

  “I’m a total mess and you know it. You’re the one who called me on it, after all—”

  “You’re not a mess and I was an asshole to say you were.”

  “No, you’re an asshole because you’re sleeping with me and you don’t respect me. But I get it. I do. I’m a total fuckup whose life is in ruins and who needs you and Chloe and Ethan to ride in and save her.”

  “I never said that!”

  “You didn’t need to say it. It’s in everything you do for me. Buying me clothes and electronics without talking to me. Sending those bots out to destroy the video without so much as mentioning it to me. Sending them out again, to find dirt on Alex, still without letting me know. And then using the information you found to destroy his life without so much as mentioning it to me. I’m betting you wouldn’t have said a word about what you’d done if Chloe hadn’t called me and told me.”

  “That’s not true. I would have stopped you before you went to the interview.”

  “Oh my God!” I push off his lap and start to pace in the early-morning grayness. “Are you even listening to yourself? You would have stopped me. You would have told me only because you couldn’t not tell me. From the moment this shitstorm happened, you’ve made every major decision for me without so much as consulting me. That’s not respect and that sure as hell isn’t a relationship. Believe me, I know. I watched my father do it to my mother for years.”

  “Goddamnit!” he roars, leaping to his feet and planting himself directly in my path. “I wasn’t trying to make decisions for you. I was trying to help you!”

  “By cutting me completely out of the process?”

  “By keeping you from being hurt!”

  “Well, news flash, asshole. It didn’t work. You hurt me way worse than Alexander Parsons ever could.”

  “I know.” Just like that, the fight goes out of him. “Believe me, I know. And I’m sorry for it. Hurting you is the last thing I ever want to do. I love you, Tori, and all I want is to keep you safe. To make you happy. And I totally fucked that up. I’m the fuckup here, not you.”

  For long seconds, it’s as if the words don’t compute. As if they’re hanging there in the room between us, unable to be absorbed by my brain. When I can finally think again—hell, when I can finally breathe again—I demand, “What did you just say?”

  “I said I fucked up with you, just like I fucked up with Chloe. With her, I failed to keep her safe, and then I failed again when I got so caught up in my research that I didn’t even know what my parents had done to her. And with you…with you, I did the total opposite. I was so busy trying to keep you from getting hurt that I didn’t realize how much I was hurting you.”

  “That’s not the part I was asking about, although thank you for saying all that. I was talking about the other part. When you said…” My voice breaks as hope swells inside of me.

  For the first time, he loses his fierceness. “When I said that I love you? Because I do. I love you so much. I’m not sure how or when it happened, considering you’ve treated me like a plague victim ever since you met me. But somewhere in all this, I fell head over heels in love with you. And I’m so sorry you think I don’t respect you, because nothing could be further from the truth. You’re funny and you’re smart and you’re gutsy—”

  “Gutsy? I’ve spent the last few days hiding out in a house that doesn’t belong to me, trying to pretend my life hasn’t fallen down around my ears. I don’t think there’s anything particularly gutsy about that.”

  “Well, you’re wrong. Because I think it’s very brave of you to try to stand on your own even with all the bullshit being thrown your way. How you were so determined to solve your problems on your own—”

  “But I didn’t solve them on my own. You and Ethan and Chloe solved them.”

  “We gave you a helping hand, because we care about you. But I have no doubt that if you hadn’t had us, you would have done just fine. You’re a smart woman, Tori, and I believe you can do anything you set your mind to. But just because you can do it alone doesn’t mean you should have to.”

  “I’m not Chloe—”

  “Well, thank
God for that,” he says, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me against his chest. I’m not sure I’m ready to go there yet, but I don’t want to fight him, either. So I let him pull me close, let him wrap his arms around me. And then I just breathe him, relishing his warmth and his strength and the dark orange-and-bergamot smell of him. “Considering some of the things I want to do to you are illegal in at least half a dozen states, probably more.”

  I laugh. I can’t help it. “Only half a dozen?”

  He shrugs. “Laws are finally getting more liberal.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s not what I meant and you know it. Saving me won’t help you atone for what happened with Chloe.”

  “Believe me, I know that. And if I didn’t, you’d remind me often enough. For someone who can’t stand it when other people help her out, you’re sure as hell protective of my baby sister.”

  “She’s my best friend.”

  “And you’re the woman I love. I admit I was an idiot. I admit I should have talked to you more. I promise, in the future, that I’ll communicate so much you’ll beg me to shut up just so you can have a little peace. But please, Tori. Don’t shut me out because I was an asshole. Don’t walk away from me, not now that I’m finally figuring out what I did wrong.”

  “As if it didn’t break my heart to walk away from you the first time. I don’t think I could do it again, even if I wanted to. I love you, Miles Girard.”

  For the first time since I woke up to find him at the end of my bed, a smile breaks across his face. “Yeah?” he asks, pulling me even closer so he can press kisses up and down my neck. “You love me?”

  “What’s not to love? I mean, besides your domineering streak? And the fact that you always think you’re right? And how you tend toward regular asshattery? Oh, and—”

  He shuts me up with a kiss. It’s hard and hot and everything I want right now.

  For long seconds, his lips move over mine, his tongue sweeping into my mouth to tangle with my own. But I have more to say and no matter how much I’d like to spend the rest of the night kissing him, I need to say it now, before I lose my nerve.