by Unknown
"Fine...fine."
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I can't say that I hadn't been watching him. God, I'd been watching him all night. Tucked away in the far corner of the bar, leaning up against the wall, just watching him as he sat at a table with the other guys, downing beer after beer, laughing.
And I watched him...the way he tipped his back when he laughed, the way his full lips pursed at the opening of his bottle, the way his throat slid up and down when he swallowed...
Jesus.
He'd been looking too. It's not like I was a stalker or something, I'd caught him looking at me more than a few times. We knew we were here with the same group, we'd just conveniently been dancing around each other all night, never getting up the guts to face one another, because there was that damn weird attraction...that energy that buzzed between us when our eyes met, and my stomach flipped and I felt warmth rise in my cheeks and down between my legs. God.
I turned my attention to the dance floor, watching groups and couples grind and rub on each other, drinks tipping and spilling down people's fronts and backs and onto the floor with the swaying of bodies and drunken arms in the air. And I wanted to be out there. Maybe if I got out there he would come up behind me, press his front to my back and-
"Hey."
Shit! He came out of nowhere. I jumped and gasped at the sound of his voice and he grinned that crooked grin from the barstool next to me, beer in hand. I wanted to seem cool...older, more mature, like he didn't phase me. I wanted him to chase me. Shit, I wasn't in high school anymore, and I didn't wanna play games like I still was either. I thought I was such a hardass.
"Hey." But there I was, giggling and blushing like the 18-year-old that I really was.
Dammit.
I glanced over at the table he'd abandoned to see the other guys still laughing and clinking bottles, stealing a few glances now and then and I figured they'd all seen him come over to me. I wondered what he'd said to them before he got up. Had he been talking about me?
"You left your little buddies high and dry over there."
He chuckled as he glanced over to them, and one of them raised his bottle with a smirk and he turned to smirk at me. "Nah, they'll live."
"I feel kinda bad for 'em. Bros over hoes, right?" I asked coyly with a knowing smile. After that little exchange between him and the guys I knew he'd come over here just for me, and it wasn't a secret.
He leaned in close to me and I held my breath and fought the urge to just turn my head and kiss him...God, just kiss him hard and good and blame it on the alcohol.
"...Sometimes," he said it quietly, his voice deep and throaty against my ear, and I blushed as I chewed on my bottom lip. "So, you're Randy's-sister's-friend?" he asked as he sat back a bit, chuckling after he had stumbled across his words.
"You make it sound so complicated," I joked in an exasperated tone, flirting with him a little, and I grinned as I stirred my mixed drink, eyes fixed down upon it. Anything to keep me from staring at him.
"I'm just trying to get my connections right," he said lowly as he leaned in to me again, flirting back, and I wiggled a little on my bar stool to conceal the shiver that ran through my body.
"Well then yeah, I guess that sounds about right." I finally met his intense blue eyes for a brief moment with a warm smile and he licked his lips, eyelids sagging with lust...or maybe it was the alcohol. "So I guess that would make you Sam's-brother's-friend?" I offered nervously when he didn't speak, intimidated by his gaze.
"Yeah...that sounds about right," he slowly echoed my previous response playfully, tongue running along the inside of his mouth. Jesus.
I would normally slap a guy for looking at me the way he was looking at me, all predatory and whatnot, but something in me really didn't want him to stop. He seemed...dangerous, but safe. I felt like I could do or say anything with him and he would keep my secrets, but at the same time I was almost too intimidated by him to even speak in the first place.
So I didn't.
I just sighed and turned my eyes back to my drink, wrapping my hand closest to him around the cup, other hand stirring it absentmindedly with the black short straw. And then I saw it out of the corner of my eye...his tattooed hand, the backs of his fingers brushing against the top of my hand, that hand that was around my cup, and I squeezed harder around the glass to keep it steady.
I could feel him watching me, gauging my reaction, and I tried not to flinch but my mouth turned up in a grin when I felt his breath across my neck as he laughed...he laughed at my attempt to keep a straight face.
I turned my face to his and he was there, right there so close I could smell the beer on his breath and my face flushed as he licked his lips. Damn, it was too much. I had to get away before I did something really stupid with a complete fucking stranger. I hated to leave him hanging, but this was part of my personal self-preservation. I knew if I gave in to him this soon it would all be downhill, so I gave him a small smile and slipped off of my bar stool, making my way toward the crowd on the dance floor.
"Hey Randy's-sister's-friend!" he called out after me just before I reached the mob of sweaty, swaying people and I smiled so big I was glad my back was to him cause I would've really embarrassed myself otherwise.
I turned slowly, lowering my eyes at him a bit coyly, a smirk tugging at my mouth when I saw him looking at me with that same hungry gaze, a small smile playing his lips.
"I'm Lex..." he shouted across the space between us, voice barely loud enough to hear over the music. He grinned and licked his lips as he awaited my response and I almost wanted to just step back over to him and talk some more, but I knew our next meeting would be twice as rewarding if I could just keep him hanging on, just a little bit...
"Leala," I answered simply, and turned again, disappearing into the crowd.
Chapter Thirteen
I've been in rehab for three weeks. Plus the two weeks at detox.
Five weeks without him...God, I never imagined I could do it.
Oh, and six weeks without the drugs too...but for some reason that thought is second after Lex.
I finally don't feel weak physically and I enjoy walking around outside in the crisp November air, leaves crunching under my feet from the trees on the grounds outside of the center. I can feel my body changing. Just small things, like my jeans not hanging so embarrassingly loose on my hips, and my bones not feeling like they dig into the mattress when I try to sleep at night. I'm feeling healthy, and things are starting to become a little less fuzzy in my head.
But it's still a battle...God, it's a battle every hour of the day.
After a couple of visits with my counselor and spilling my guts about Lex, I was given a dual diagnosis for chemicals and co-dependency, which pretty much sums up to me not being allowed visitation for the first phase of treatment. Thirty fucking days. I have permission for phone calls but I usually call his personal phone because I know he won't answer, especially if he doesn't recognize the number, and I just listen to his voicemail before hanging up. I think talking to him would be too hard because I would want to see him even more, but I know I can't. Not yet.
But as soon as I get released for my first visitation, my stomach is trembling as I dial the number from the community phone at the clinic. I don't even call my fucking parents, or my sister...
Because he...God, he is the only person I want to see.
It rings twice.
"Hello?" The tone in his voice tells me that he doesn't recognize the number. I smile when I hear his voice, I almost laugh. I almost cry. I feel everything all at once. Fuck, I've missed him.
"Hey, Lex..." my voice almost breaks just saying his name.
"What are you doing calling my business phone?" I can instantly hear the smile in his voice, and I laugh a little, a wave of warmth washing over me, calming me.
"It's good to hear from you, too," I quip sarcastically and he laughs. That laugh that I love.
"F
uck, how long has it been?"
"Thirty damn days," I drag out each word and I hear him sigh.
"Damn, I miss you..." he breathes and a lump forms in my throat, "I've been calling your phone."
I laugh as his frustrated tone. "I don't have it, you idiot."
"Oh shit, I didn't even think about that," he groans, and I laugh again. "You doing ok in there?" he asks quietly.
"Yeah...yeah, I'm good," I answer confidently, and I know he's smiling when he replies.
"Good...that's real good."
I hesitate. "So...listen, I'm past the first phase of treatment, you know, and I'm allowed to have visitors now...so I was thinking maybe if you wanna-"
"Can I come tomorrow?" he offers anxiously before I can even finish, and I grin like it's Christmas morning. He wants to see me...
"Yeah, tomorrow would be great."
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"Shit, shit, shit..." he mumbles, stumbling over his feet as he tries to pull on his boots, glancing at his watch again. Visitation starts at 6:30 and it's 6:42. He had wanted to be on time because he knows he only has an hour to visit. And now not only is he late, but-
"Yo, Lex!" Fabian comes through the front door without even knocking and he lets out a long irritated groan.
"What the fuck do you want? Make it quick," he replies as the door shuts, tightening the laces on his shoes, but not tying them.
"Where you headed man?" Fabian eyes him curiously.
"Uh, nowhere. I just got shit to take care of, you know...errands and shit," he mutters, stumbling a bit on his words. The last thing he wants to do is tell Fabian where he's really going.
"Well, I got a deposit. And I need some more shit."
"Fuck, I don't have anything bagged off the scales right now. I've been running a little behind-"
"What the fuck, Lex? You need to get your shit together. I need some more shit, I still gotta make a few stops before we call it a night. Go get it from the back."
"Man I have shit to take care of."
"Whats more important than getting this paper, Lex? You've been slacking lately, and all of us are bustin' our asses to keep you complaint-free from customers. You should be happy to send my ass back out there with more shit while you lay up on yours in the meantime."
"Ok...fine!! I'll get it." Lex trudges to the back room with Fabian on his heels. He groans and checks his watch as he stands over the table littered with white and green, shifting through the baggies surrounding his electronic scale, quickly moving and sorting things.
Fabian nudges him with his elbow, grinning, "Why are you all draped up? You got a hot date or something? New pussy now that your girl is-"
"You can shut your fucking mouth before you even say what I think you're about to say," Lex cuts him off dryly, his face stony with rage as he turns abruptly to face him, his chest swelling as if he's ready to fight, and Fabian stops dead, swallowing the lump in his throat and stuttering a bit.
"Sorry man...I just thought that-"
"Well, you thought fucking wrong," Lex barks before turning his focus back to weighing and measuring, trying to end the conversation, mostly to get this business over with so he can try and make it to visitation, but also because he doesn't want to mix talk of business and personal shit with the boys. To them, nothing is more important to business, and it's all about loyalty. But lately Lex doesn't know what's important to him, and it's fucking him up because he's having to run around like he lives a double life or something. The boys don't understand his feelings, and hell, he's not even sure if he does anymore.
"Are you ok, man?" Fabian narrows his eyes at him curiously.
"I'd be better if you'd shut your damn mouth," he answers flatly, quickly bagging the coke, stealing a glance down at his watch again with a sigh.
He jumps when his phone rings, the business phone, and he cringes when he sees the number on the screen. Of all the times, why now? He knows he can't answer, not with Fabian in the house, but it's the business phone...he always takes the calls.
He eyes Fabian nervously. What kinda fucked up loyalty test is this?
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"What the hell, Lex?" I mutter under my breath as I listen to his phone ring and ring before his voicemail catches the call. It's already 7:00 and he swore he would be here right when visitation started.
Addicts can't be trusted.
God, the words ring in my ears, driven into my brain over and over from group sessions and I try to force them out, try to convince myself that Lex is different, but he's not proving that point right now. Not when I've been waiting for him for thirty minutes and he won't even answer his phone to tell me he's coming.
I don't want to be mad at him. I really don't. But it hurts so much because I haven't seen him in two months. Two fucking months.
If roles were reversed I would be busting at the seams to see him. I figured he would be a little more excited to see me. But now I don't even know if he's coming, and as I sit and pick a piece of lint from my thin sweater I feel stupid for taking so long to get ready this afternoon, my hands practically trembling for the past hour just in anticipation of seeing him walk through the door, hugging him, just feeling everything that I feel at the mere sight of him.
7:15...
I sigh dejectedly and head back down the hallway toward my room.
What a waste.
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"God please let me in...just let me see her. Please," he mutters under his breath as he whips his truck quickly into the parking lot and tries to jerk his keys from the ignition almost before he can get his truck into park.
He swings the door opened and closed and jogs up to the front door of the enclosed porch area of the house. He stares at the call box for a puzzled second before pushing the button to ring the front desk, glancing down at his watch and cursing under his breath before hugging his arms around his body as the cold wind cuts through his thermal shirt.
"What's the patient's name?"
He shrinks back a bit in surprise when the female voice comes loud through the speaker on the call box.
"Leala...Kearsten," he stutters, shaking a bit from the cold.
"And your name, sir?"
"Alex...I'm here for visitation."
"Visitation is about to close, sir."
He groans loud at her response. Is today just the day for everyone to point out his fuck-ups or something?
"I know. I just...I need to see her. Please. Even if it's just a minute or something," he pleads, pushing down his pride simply because he knows he fucked up royally.
She pauses and he's sure that she'll say no, but he sighs with relief when he hears, "I'll send someone out."
He waits for maybe a minute outside the door, but it feels like an hour before he sees the tall uniformed man approaching him. The lock on the gate clicks when the guy swipes his security card through the device on the back of the call box, and he passes with a small nod to him when he allows him entrance.
Lex closes the space to the front door hurriedly, but waits for a nod of permission from the security man before opening the heavy wooden door and entering the front office of the center. The woman behind the desk greets him with a smile and he rubs his hands down his arms a few times to get the chill off of him before he grins back at her nervously.
"Hi. I'm sorry it's so late. I just...can I please see her?" He almost doesn't recognize the desperate tone in his own voice.
The woman sighs as she jots down a note onto a paper laying on the desk, and he peers at it quickly, noticing his name scrawled in familiar handwriting...my handwriting.
She crosses the room and peeks through an open doorway into an adjoining room which looks much like a waiting room of a doctor's office. "Jason, we have a visitation," she says quietly and a second uniformed man appears in the doorway.
"Visitation is over," he re
plies dryly, eyeing Lex in an unfriendly manner. Lex notices and stiffens his posture, pulling his hands from his pockets before crossing his arms over his chest and returning the man's cold glare.
"Give them five minutes," the woman sighs, and the man, Jason, nods reluctantly and gestures for Lex to follow him.
"Thanks," Lex mutters as he passes the woman, and she smiles in return when she sees the sincerity in his eyes.
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"Leala, someone is here."
Jason is in the doorway of my room suddenly, and my heart jumps into my throat at his words.
"Here? It's seven-thirty," I reply dumbfounded as I glance at the clock on the wall. Visitation is over.
He sighs, "Darcy is giving you five minutes. C'mon."
I almost leap from the bed when he beckons me with his hand to follow him. I'm on his heels as we pace down the hall quickly to the small room reserved for visitors, and he's there...God, he's really there, sitting uncomfortably in the small leather chair, eyes down on the floor, but he stands up quickly when he sees us enter the room.
I step around Jason and into the room, glancing back at him with a nod, and he disappears but I know he's not far away, probably just around the corner.
I turn to face Lex after a long second, and I suck in a shaky breath before exhaling noisily, wringing my hands nervously as my insides tremble.
"Hey..." he finally says quietly, shifting his weight, and I can barely bring myself to look into his eyes for too long, scared I'll burst into tears and throw myself at him or something ridiculous. Because really right now that's exactly what I want to do.
"Where have you been, Lex?" I know he can hear the hurt that's laced in my voice, because I see him shrink back when I say it.
"I got tied up," he mutters in a non-committal tone, eyes going down to the floor, and hurt builds inside of me. I'm not even mad which is unusual because normally something like this could send us into a screaming match in record time. No, I'm just hurt, hurt deep down in my gut because he said he would be here.
