Always Love Me: A Standalone Second Chance Romance

by Derrick, Zoey

  She smirks. “Nine days.” She points to the book. “Flip the page.”

  I look back at the book and it starts a series of pages of her, she looks like she’s in labor but there’s… “Where were you?” I ask absently as I flip through the pages.

  “At home.”

  I gape at her, blinking stupidly.

  She explains, “I didn’t want all the crazy of a hospital. I wanted to be comfortable and be able to do things my way and at my own pace.” She shrugs as if that explains everything.

  “So, Jaxon was born at home?”

  “He was. I had a midwife, someone there to help and guide me. And I had Ryleigh.”

  There’s a sadness in her voice when she says her friend’s name. I look at the picture and see a woman, she’s gorgeous. With long brown hair. She’s tall and yet familiar. “Was she at the gala?” I ask Skylar.

  “Yeah, she’s the lawyer Cami talked about.”

  “Ahh, okay, that’s why she looks familiar.”

  “She’s my best friend,” she says sadly.

  I push the book aside for a minute. “Why the sadness when you talk about her?”

  “I miss her.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Doesn’t she live in New York?” I ask, trying to coax more from her.

  “She did, until shortly after Jaxon was born. It’s a long story, but she lives in Montana now.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say softly.

  “Me too. She’ll be here tomorrow or the day after. Dawson is making arrangements for her.”

  I nod, understanding better why she’s sad about her friend, but I won’t lie, I have a million questions for her about Ryleigh. The biggest questions being about her decision to home birth our son and again, why she chose not to call me. I would have been there for her, for Jax. But I let it go in favor of the photo album.

  “It’s all on video, too,” she says absently as I flip through the pictures.

  “I’d like to see that.”

  She nods. “I can access it on my laptop.”

  “Can you send it to me?” I ask, not wanting to watch it here, for obvious reasons, and I’m not sure I can watch it with her. Not right now.

  “It’s a huge file. I can share the folder with you, though.”

  “Please do that.”

  “Of course.”

  The waitress comes over with our drinks. She asks if we’re ready to order, and we both say no, but we pick up our menus and start looking. The book taunts me the whole time I’m trying to decide what I want. I settle on a bacon cheeseburger. Simple enough. Then I go back to the album.

  There’re several pictures of Rebel where I can clearly see she’s pushing by the strain in her face. The next picture depicts Jaxon’s head crowning, and in the next, he’s out and on his mother’s chest, obvious tears streaming down her face. It hurts my heart.

  I flip to the next picture and it’s another collage of his first four weeks, then two through five months and so on. There’re a few pictures of him doing things—random baby things. The last picture is of Jaxon standing at the side of his crib, pointing to a picture on the dresser just out of reach; a picture of me. It’s a picture of me sitting in my captain’s chair on the ship. It looks like it was taken the day of the sinking. The memorial. “When did you take this?” I ask her.

  She smiles. “While you were driving, in between sitting on your lap.”

  “Is this how he knows who I am?”

  “That, and a couple of the pictures I took at the bar that night.” She reaches into her bag and produces her phone. She unlocks it and then shows it to me. “And this one.” On the background of her phone is a picture that she clearly took from the wheelhouse when I was down on the deck with the guys. I’m crouched down but looking up in her direction.

  “How long has that been your background?” I ask softly.

  “Since the plane ride home,” she murmurs. Then she locks it casually and tips it. Then there’s a picture of Jaxon. It looks recent.

  “This isn’t fair.” I put my elbows on the table and my head in my hands.

  She doesn’t say anything. Aside from more apologies, I don’t know what else there is for her to say. Unless she’s willing to fix our situation, willing to work it out so I can spend time with my son, there’s nothing more we can talk about. And unfortunately, the only way I’m going to get time with my son involves going to New York. I need to have them in my life, but something she said earlier really struck me. She can’t watch me find someone else. Can I? Can I go to New York and not be with her? Watch her grow and thrive with someone else?

  The burning ache in my chest tells me my answer. No. I can’t do that. For her and Jax, I would give up everything. Hell, I would have given it all up just for her, but now, with Jax, I don’t think I have much choice.

  I’m stewing in my thoughts; Skylar remains quiet until our waitress arrives again. Rebel orders, and I put my hands down. She flinches when she takes in my expression. I order my burger and hand over the menu.

  “Can I keep this?” I ask about the album when we’re alone again.

  “Yes, it’s yours.” She looks at her phone again. “I have a few more I wanted to print out for it, but I didn’t get a chance.” My phone vibrates in my pocket. “I sent them to you.”

  “Thanks.” My voice betrays the inner turmoil inside me, and she notices. I pinch the bridge of my nose.

  “Maybe I should get mine to-go.”

  I smack my hand down on the table, she jumps, the shakers rattle. “Dammit, Skylar, stop fucking running,” I growl at her.

  “I’m not running, Xavier. I’m exhausted. It’s nearly one in the morning back home. I’ve had a trying fucking day, and I’ve unloaded a dump truck of shit on you today. I think a little distance would be good for us.”

  “No, dammit,” I mutter, “I’m tired of the distance between us.” I take a deep breath. “I’m fucking over it, Skylar.”

  “Then what do you want me to do?” she mewls.

  “Give me a minute. Fuck. I’ve…I’m trying to figure out how the hell to do this.” I put my hands flat on the table and look her square in the eye. “I’m trying to understand why I don’t hate you for these last two years. I’m trying to understand why I can’t just walk away, to let you go. But I can’t. I can’t hate you, I can’t be mad at you for Jaxon, for two years ago, for twenty-two years ago.”

  “You can’t blame me for 22 years ago.”

  I glare at her, narrowing my eyes. “I can’t? You left without saying good-bye. You left me that fucking bunny, and that was it, Skye.”

  “I was 12, Dirk. You were off with someone, probably Dribbler. Uncle Randy said it was time to go. I went. Don’t you think I wanted to say good-bye to you? I waited as long as Randy would let me before getting in the car. I stood there stupidly waiting for you to come around the house so I could hug you and tell you I’d be back someday. But you never came. Then when I left again, you never came.”

  “Is that what all this is? You being spiteful? You trying to hurt me because I didn’t come after you?”

  “No, Jesus. What do you take me for?”

  “Right now, I don’t fucking know,” I growl as the waitress appears with our food.

  “Can I get a box, please?” Rebel asks the waitress.

  “Absolutely,” the waitress says as she sets my food in front of me. “Anything else?”

  “Two boxes,” I say.

  “No problem,” the waitress says and she disappears. Rebel produces her wallet and digs for something. She comes out with a hundred-dollar bill.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going to pay for our dinner, and I’m going to call a cab.”

  The waitress returns, handing us the boxes. Rebel hands over the bill and tells the waitress to keep the change. I was so caught up in the album I didn’t even hear what she ordered. It’s the same as me, and I shake my head, trying to pull my mind back together. “Can I get some ketchup and mayo to go?” I d
idn’t realize the waitress was still standing here.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  “Don’t,” I breathe.

  “Don’t what, Xavier?”

  “Fuck,” I groan. “Don’t go.”

  “I have to. You need some time to figure out what’s in your head, and I need some time to breathe. That was really fucking low. I know what I did was shitty, but if you seriously think I kept Jaxon from you out of spite, then you’re sadly mistaken. I did it because I was scared. Because you nearly stopped me both times because you weren’t gloved up. I was afraid a child wasn’t what you wanted. We never talked about it.” She pulls in a deep breath before continuing. “I didn’t want to hear you tell me you didn’t want him. I didn’t even know I wanted him until he was inside me. I made the choice to keep him. I made the choice to raise him. I wasn’t going to interfere with your life when there was no need to do so.” She’s pissed. “Yes, I was selfish. I will fucking admit that. I was selfish because I couldn’t look at you and not want to be with you. I couldn’t look at you and not fucking love you, Xavier. I wasn’t ready to let myself into a situation I didn’t know I could handle.” She wipes a stray tear from her cheek. “I couldn’t dangle a carrot in front of you, give you hope that I could love you the way you deserve to be loved only to snatch it back from you. You deserve better than that. You deserve better than me.”

  The waitress returns with Rebel’s condiments, and she tosses them in her box. She thanks the waitress and asks where she can hail a cab. I don’t say anything. I can’t. I don’t know what to say to her. Everything she’s said is completely true. The waitress leaves and Rebel stands. “You’re wrong,” I tell her.

  “About what?”

  I look up at her. I pour every ounce of emotion I’m feeling into my eyes, and I have to blink to hold back tears. “I’ve always wanted children.”

  “Well, now you have one.”

  She doesn’t say anything else. I can’t find my voice.

  Then she’s gone.

  Again.

  “Fuck,” I growl.

  I toss my food into the container, which is stupid, I’m not fucking hungry, and I have food at home. The waitress walks past. “What did you tell her about the cab?”

  “Oh, that she could go around the corner to the W.”

  I nod. “Thanks.”

  “No problem, have a good night.”

  I grab my food and Jaxon’s album and leave the restaurant.

  Chapter 32

  Rebel

  I barely make it out of the restaurant before my vision is blurred by a waterfall of tears. This was not at all how I envisioned our reunion. Then again, I didn’t expect roses and fucking sunshine either.

  I knew better than to expect that. Somewhere, deep down, I knew he’d be mad, but I never expected him to think I did this to spite him. That I purposefully tried to burn him. Entrap him even.

  That’s precisely one of the reasons I didn’t call him. Or at least, one reason I told myself. I did not want him to think I was trying to get something out of this from him by having his child.

  I round the corner and sure enough, the Seattle W is dead ahead.

  I’m so angry, I can’t help wondering if he did this on purpose? Took me to dinner close by so he could get pissed at me. “Ugh!” I scream as loud as I can.

  I dig into my purse and find my phone. I find Diem’s number after clearing off a mountain of texts, emails and missed calls, and he answers on the second ring. “What room?” I ask.

  He gives me the room number and tells me he’ll meet me outside the room on the floor to give me my keys. I disconnect just as a truck flies past me. Dirk’s truck.

  “No, dammit, damn him,” I scream as he pulls in front of the hotel.

  Fuck.

  I have no place else to go but into my hotel. I scan the front of the hotel looking for a cab, and of course, there are none in sight. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I grouse.

  I cross the last street and start walking up the sidewalk. Dirk talks to a valet guy before handing him his keys. I shake my head.

  When I get close enough, I call, “Go home, Dirk.”

  “We need to talk.”

  “Sorry, I’m talked out for tonight. Maybe tomorrow.”

  “Don’t,” he snaps.

  “Don’t, what? Don’t tell you to go away? Don’t tell you to leave me alone? Don’t, what?” I bite.

  “Don’t push me away.”

  “I’m sorry, were you absent in that restaurant? I’m pretty sure you’re the one who pushed me away this time,” I snort. “Or maybe I’m just having a strange out of body experience?”

  “Stop, please.”

  “No, I’m going upstairs to my room. I’m going to eat my cold burger, and I’m going to try to get some sleep. I have a feeling Randy is going to need me tomorrow.”

  I walk around him, passing him in favor of the front doors. A gentleman opens it for me with a nod and a ‘Good evening’ as I pass him.

  I look around the lobby, looking for the elevators and I finally spot them. I start walking toward them when I feel a hand around my arm, spinning me around. “Don’t,” I breathe.

  “Don’t what, Skylar?”

  “Don’t touch me, kiss me…”

  He lifts my chin and presses his lips to mine. His touch is like lightning and fire roaring through my veins. Two and half years of pent up sexual desire and need nearly rip me apart as I whimper into his mouth. I fight to pull away from him; he releases my chin and cups my face, holding me to him like he always does. My breathing shallows, and my heart picks up in triple time.

  “Don’t walk away from me,” he breathes as he breaks our kiss.

  “I…that really fucking hurt,” I grumble.

  “I didn’t mean it. I’m just trying to understand.”

  “I don’t know what else you want me to say,” I whisper.

  “Tell me you love me.”

  “You know I do,” I say without thinking.

  “Invite me up.”

  “Xavier…”

  “Please? Let’s talk, calmly this time,” he pleads.

  “I’m dead on my feet. I’m starving. Jaxon will be up god only knows when.”

  “Please?” he begs.

  I sigh then give him the room number. “Give me 10 minutes?” He nods.

  I turn, heading back toward the elevators. My heart still hasn’t found a normal rhythm, and I know I’m in fucking trouble. I’m pissed because my agreeing to this wasn’t my heart, it was my fucking head and my pussy. God, she’s a cunt sometimes.

  I press the up button, but I don’t look back toward him.

  The elevator arrives, and fuck me, I look to see him watching me.

  I sag against the elevator wall after the doors close. “Dammit,” I grumble.

  The elevator climbs toward the top of the hotel.

  When it stops, I step out and find Diem waiting for me outside one for four doors. “We have the floor?” I ask.

  “We do.” He nods. “Melody and Jaxon are in there,” he says, indicating the room next to mine. “They’re adjoining. She went to bed a few hours ago, said not to worry about getting up with him. She’ll take care of him.”

  “Thanks, Diem.”

  “What’s wrong?” he asks.

  I shake my head. “Too much to talk about. I’m exhausted”—I lift my container—“starving. I’m going to eat and go to bed.”

  He nods. “How’s Randy?”

  “A mess. It’s complicated. Can we talk about it in the morning?”

  “Of course. Get some rest,” he nods in the direction of the room across from Melody’s. “I’ll be in there or by cell if you need me. The other room is for Ryleigh; she’ll be here day after tomorrow. Scott will be here in the morning.”

  “You’re the best, thank you.”

  “Of course, Skylar.”

  I smile sweetly and nod as I take my keys from him and insert one into the slot. “Good night, Diem.”


  “Good night,” he says as he heads for his room.

  I close the door and listen carefully for his door to close. As soon as it closes, I text Dirk.

  Xavier

  My phone chimes.

  From Rebel: This is a really bad idea.

  To Rebel: No, it’s not. I’ll sleep on the couch. I’ll behave. I just need to be near you and Jaxon tonight.

  I wait for her reply. Only two minutes left in the original ten she asked for, and I’m about to head for the elevator when my phone chimes.

  From Rebel: Doors open

  I hit the up button and wait while smiling at my phone.

  My text wasn’t a lie, I need to be near both of them. I really don’t want to go home tonight. I want to be near both of them even if sleeping on the couch will suck so much ass. I’ll deal with it if it means we can talk.

  The elevator arrives and whisks me to the twelfth floor.

  It feels like it takes forever to get there, but when the doors finally open, I look to the left and see a door propped open by the metal hanger lock and the number on the door is what she told me. I slip into the room. It’s not dark, but it’s only partially lit. I quietly close the door and flip the locks before entering the room. Rebel’s leaning against a door jamb facing away from me, her focus on something I can’t see.

  I cross the room to her, and she turns, putting her finger to her lips and pointing into the room.

  She’s looking at Jaxon who’s sleeping soundly. His arms over his head, and his little blanket askew. The room is dimly lit, and I can’t see much else. “He’s so peaceful,” I remark.