by Tucker, RH
“Okay,” I answer, opening his door, and he immediately drops to the bed.
“I don’t think you’re gonna get lucky tonight.”
“Believe me, Taylor. You’re the one who gets lucky.” I can’t help the snarky reply.
“Ooh, feisty. I like it. I don’t remember you feisty. Always so sweet. Sweet and perfect.”
His words make me pause again. Standing over him, I watch him stumble with his shoes, trying to kick them off, but his feet slide sloppily over one another.
“Lay back.” I push him down, trying to ignore his words that are making my mind race, and reach for his shoes.
“I told you, you’re not—”
“I know, I know. See what happens when you drink too much?” I laugh, taking off his other shoe. “Here.” I pull him closer to remove his shirt. “Now lay down.”
He holds onto my hand as he lays his head on the pillow. “Thank you. You always take care of me.”
He thinks I’m someone else. He has to. It’s the only way his words make sense. I simply nod and pull my hand away, but he grasps it tighter. “No.”
“Taylor, I’m gonna go. You’re fine now.”
“I’m not fine. I haven’t been in a long time.” He rolls closer, sliding his legs off the bed, and wraps his arms around my waist, burying his face into my shirt. “Please, Reese. Please stay. Just this one night.”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to come to grips with the fact I knew would eventually show itself. He is seeing someone else. Or was and is still hung up on her. Once again, I’m left holding the baggage of another guy who’s hung up on a girl he’s not with. I want to be mad at the situation and angry at myself, but I fight back the tears. I did like him. I hoped that there might be …
“Taylor, I don’t think—”
“Please, baby.” He looks up at me, and though his words are still slurring, there’s an honest and coherent expression across his face. His eyes are welling up. “I miss you so much, Reese. Please. I don’t want to be alone tonight. Please stay with me. You can leave me again in the morning, just like always. Just … stay with me tonight.”
It’s wrong. I know it’s wrong, and I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it. I nod, crawling into the bed with him. He’s held me in the morning when we’re asleep. And in the quiet moments when we wake up, he’ll stay close, but it’s still nothing like right now. Tonight, he pulls me closer to him, wrapping his arms around me, and softly kisses my ear.
“Thank you.”
I nod again, still fighting back tears. This is so wrong, and everything inside is telling me to sneak out of his place when he falls asleep. But lying next to him, he stills, and eventually, I fall asleep, too … only to once again be woken up by his dreaming words.
They’re mumbled, but I make out a few. He’s apologizing for something. He sounds scared. Then he repeats her name. Reese. Then someone else’s name. AJ.
“He needs you. I need you.” His words seep out as I stare out of the window at the sun that’s already rising.
This time he wakes up from his nightmare with an incoherent scream. Sweat beads roll down his face, his chest heaving and glistening. Sitting up and on the edge of the bed, he speaks before I can ask him anything.
“Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay. I really think you should talk—”
“I don’t need to talk to anyone.”
“Taylor—”
He casts a scowling glance back at me. “It’s nothing, Sasha. Besides, it’s none of your business.”
I sit up, wanting to slap him across the back of his head. “Hey, jerk? I brought your drunk ass home last night. I’m not asking you to bare your soul to me, but you’ve obviously got something going on.”
Quiet for a moment longer, I’m not sure if he’s going to reply when he stands up. “You’re right. I’m sorry. And thank you for helping me last night. You didn’t have to stay.”
“You asked me to.”
He raises an eyebrow. “I did?”
“Well …” I pause, biting my lip. Do I dare bring up the name? I guess it doesn’t matter since he’s obviously still hung up on her. “Not me, but Reese.” He stares at me, jaw grinding, and his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Who is she?”
“No one.” He answers fast and bluntly.
“She’s someone. You dream about her, and you thought I was her last night. Taylor, if you have a girl—”
“I don’t.”
“Fine, then if you still want your ex or something, then maybe—”
“She’s not an ex.”
We stare at one another, his expression still faintly terrified while mine’s one of confusion. If he doesn’t have a girlfriend now or isn’t hung up on an ex, then what is it? “You said a different name this morning, too. AJ? Is that—”
“It’s no one.”
I release an exasperated sigh. “Taylor, what the hell is going on? We set this thing up because I told you I didn’t want to be some face in the crowd for you to add another notch to your belt.”
“You’re not, okay? Believe it or not, I like you a lot more than I have any other girl in a while.”
“Then—”
“But that doesn’t mean anything, Sasha. I told you, I’m not looking for a relationship. Even if I was, I can’t—” He stops his words, letting out a low growl at himself. “Forget it. Let’s just forget everything. Sorry, I can’t do this.”
Getting out of the bed, my curiosity is piqued, now more than ever. If he likes me, and he isn’t hung up on an ex, then what is going on? Maybe if he talks about it, we could actually be more than just friends with benefits.
“Taylor, you can talk to me. If you just tell—”
He pulls his arm away, walking over to his door and opening it. “There’s nothing to tell.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“I don’t care what you believe. It’s what I’m saying. And I’m not someone you need to lend a hearing ear to, okay? We aren’t dating. I’m not your boyfriend.”
“I know what we are. It was my idea.”
“So stop trying to help me because there’s nothing to help. And you and I don’t owe one another anything.”
“I didn’t say we did, but that doesn’t mean—”
“What aren’t you getting?” he yells at me, making me jerk my head back in shock. “We’re fuck buddies. End of story. You can leave now.”
We were both tentative to start this. I knew the risks going in, and though I felt something for him, I wasn’t sure what would happen. I didn’t know if it would end in a fizzle, if he’d stop texting or I’d decide I didn’t want to see him anymore. So there’s absolutely no reason for me to feel this crushed by his words, as he stands by his bedroom door, still holding it open, but his eyes gazing down at the ground. There’s no reason whatsoever. But I do feel hurt. And crushed. Like I was just slapped across the face for trying to be nice to him. As I approach the door and see Micah step out from their bathroom, his eyes darting back and forth between us before he hurries into his room, it only stings worse.
“You were right,” I finally say, pushing into his doorway. Turning to look at him, I grow angrier as he continues staring at the ground. “You are an asshole.”
* * *
Thankfully I’m working the dinner rush at the restaurant. Unthankfully, even prepping and cooking doesn’t take my mind off of everything. I knew I should’ve snuck out last night. What in the hell is wrong with me that I just let Taylor think I was someone else in his drunken stupor? But I didn’t leave. Even in his inebriated state, knowing I like him, it felt good that he actually wanted to be next to me, consciously. Albeit drunken consciousness, but still, he was awake and wanted me with him, instead of acting like we’re just friends who hook up. Again, what the hell is wrong with me?
“Where’s the side, Sash?” Manny yells at me, and I’m brought back to my greasy, loud, and hot world in the kitchen.
I shake my head as if it will clear
it of my rampant thoughts. “Yeah, sorry. Sorry.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he asks, his face red, and I watch as a drop of sweat rolls down his cheek.
“Nothing, Chef. Sorry.” I walk the pan of sides over to him and head to the grill, trying to focus on finishing the rest of the dinner rush.
Unfortunately, the focus doesn’t last long, as a few minutes later Rita pokes her head in. “Hey, Sasha. Someone’s here to see you.”
“Who?” I yell back at her, throwing a pan in the sink.
“A guy.”
“Tell him to get lost. I’m done with that prick.”
I catch Manny’s look before seeing Rita’s surprised expression. “It’s not Taylor. Said his name is Micah.”
I lift my gaze to see her shrugging. “Um, okay. I can’t right now—”
“You can take a fifteen if you want,” Manny calls out. “We got this.”
Ian smiles with a nod, and I look over at Rita. “No. If he wants to wait, fine. I think we’ll be done in an hour.”
“Okay,” she replies and walks out.
An hour goes by, and we’re slowing down, so I’m sure Manny would be fine with me leaving my spot, but there’s only one reason Micah would be here. Taylor. I know that door is closed, and if it was him here, I might be tempted to take a plate of food out and dump it on him. I don’t know what Micah could say to make me change my mind, and I don’t think Taylor would send him, so whatever he has to say, he can wait. And when I do hear it, I doubt it will make any difference.
I take my time heading to the locker room and change. It’s actually going on two hours now, so I ask Rita if Micah’s still around. He is. Still unsure what he’s doing here, I decide to take a little bit longer before finally meeting him, where I find him sitting at a table.
“Taylor’s not man enough to apologize in person, so he sends you?”
He shakes his head, chuckling. “Uh, no. He doesn’t know I’m here. And I’m pretty sure he’s gonna be pissed once he finds out.”
“Then what are you doing here?”
Scanning the dining room, he nods over to the front doors. “Can we talk outside?”
“Sure.”
He wrings his fingers as we approach a small pickup truck. He doesn’t look nervous, but he doesn’t seem at ease either.
“Micah, I don’t know why you’re here, but whatever you want to tell me about Taylor, just forget it, okay? He’s a dickhead. And you know what? It’s partially my fault. I put him up to this stupid arrangement, and it’s blowing up in my face. Some guys don’t want a girlfriend, so I get that. It’s not like I’m just sitting on my ass, waiting for a guy to latch on to. But I should’ve known there was something. There’s always something with me.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Nothing. Forget it.” He stares a moment longer, and I have no intention of telling him my history, so I wave it off. “What do you want to say?”
“He told me you’ve got this friends with benefits thing—”
“Friends would be a stretch, especially after this morning.”
“Right. Sorry about that.”
“For what? You didn’t do anything. He’s the ass.”
“Yeah, but he has his reasons, Sasha. Look, I’m here because I can see it in him. I’m his best friend for almost three years. He doesn’t say it, but I notice it. He likes you.”
“He’s got a funny way of showing it.”
“Like I said, he’s got his—”
“I don’t care, okay? He’s hung up on someone, so fine. Whatever.” I kick at the ground in the dark parking lot. “I’ve dealt with that before. Maybe he’s just sleeping around, trying to forget her. He wouldn’t be the first guy to do that, and I’m sure he won’t be the last, but I refuse to be a placemat for him. He’s got issues, and they seem like major ones. Do you know he actually called me her name last night?”
“He did?”
“Yeah, in his drunken daze, he said he missed me. Her. I’m not gonna be that again. You should be talking to him, not me. He needs to get his shit together and talk to whoever Reese is. He’s obviously still hung up on her.”
“He can’t.”
I start to back away, over toward my car. This conversation is going nowhere. “I don’t care if it’s hard, he’ll never get over it if he doesn’t. He has to.”
“He can’t, Sasha.”
“Why not?”
“Because she’s dead.”
His words hang in the air. Of all the reasons I thought I’d hear as to why he’s still clinging to some girl, whether they broke up, one of them cheated on the other, or they were a high school couple who had to split up because of college, I never would’ve thought I’d hear the reason he just gave me.
“She died when he was a sophomore in high school. You’ve seen his scars?” I nod. “He got them in the accident. Broke his collarbone. He took his junior year off, doing home studies. He wouldn’t go back to school his senior year because of everyone he knew, so his parents moved out here. That’s when I met him.”
“Is that … he’s woken up a couple times from nightmares. Is that …”
Micah nods. “He told me he used to have them all of the time. Every once in a while he’ll get them, but lately, it’s been more. It’s because of you, and I know that freaks him out.”
“Me? Why?”
“Just …” He lets out a deep breath, finally looking away. “Just talk to him. Or get him to talk to you. Please? You’d be good for him.”
“Look, I like him, but I don’t think I can be someone’s therapy pillow.”
“No, sorry, that’s not what I mean. I just meant, you and him. Both of you, he can’t see it. Maybe you can’t either, but I’ve known him long enough to know you’re on his mind. You’re not just one of those girls he’ll hook up with and forget. He wouldn’t be dreaming about her so much if you weren’t on his mind, as weird as that sounds.”
“I don’t know. I think this is too much. I said he’s got issues before, and this just reinforces that. What he really needs is to figure himself out. Not by sleeping around either.”
“I’ve told him that already. I’ve given up on that fight. He uses it as a crutch, and as close as we are when it comes to this topic, he bottles everything up and doesn’t want to be told what to do. Schoolwork, job, even dishing out advice to me about my relationship, he’s great. Level headed and right more than half the time. When it comes to this?” He lets out a disheartened scoff. “He won’t listen to anyone. Why do you think he hardly ever goes home?”
“We haven’t really talked about his home or family.”
“Look, I know I’m asking a lot. Probably too much. But if anyone might be able to help him with this, it’s you.”
“Thanks, but … I don’t know.”
“Just think about. Please?” Taking a seat in his truck, he turns on the ignition and looks back at me, waiting for an answer. I finally nod. “Thank you.”
He drives away, leaving me more confused than this morning. This isn’t my problem. I might not have huge issues in my life, but I do still have a life I’m trying to live. But then I remember the times I wake up next to him. I remember his words, even if he was drunk, and how earnest they were. If he wouldn’t put up those walls, would I be able to connect to that honest version of Taylor I saw? Or is this just a big can of worms that’s not going to do anything except explode in my face?
Chapter 16
Taylor
“It’s awesome, right?” Calvin says, showing me around the building.
Precision Fitness has been his idea and baby for a while. He’s always talked about it, but I figured it was one of those pipe dreams. Even when he turned in his two weeks at the gym, I thought he’d inevitably end up working at another gym. But I’m standing in the middle of an empty building, a little impressed.
“Where’s the equipment?” I ask.
“Getting shipped in. The chiropractor is already handing out ref
errals, so we just gotta wait and hope they call. I’m putting out fliers all over town. It’ll be slow in the beginning, but we can do it.”
“Wait, wait.” I turn around, scanning the area again. “I thought you had the referrals already. I thought you had a client list.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because you told me you did, Cal. Remember? ‘I’ve got a client list lined up.’” I repeat his words back to him.
“Well, yeah, it doesn’t happen overnight.”
“Cal, I quit my job.”
“Dude, don’t blame that on me. I didn’t ask you to quit on the spot.”
“Are you kidding me right now?”
“What?”
“How the hell am I supposed to pay my rent? I don’t have any clients lined up, other than maybe Becky if you can even call her that. Wait, so what’s Ethan doing?”
“A couple members from the gym are following him over, and he’s still got the clients he has. He’s starting to hold sessions in a small sub-lease, downtown.”
“Great. Just great.”
“Calm down. It’ll be fine. Just go back to Bobby and tell him you don’t quit yet.”
“Yet? You can’t be serious. This is just perfect. Thanks a lot.”
“Like I said, I didn’t tell you to quit on the spot.”
“Whatever,” I spit out and head for the doors of the empty building.
Not registering my annoyance, he chuckles, calling out as I leave, “Two weeks, bro. Maybe a month. We’ll have the grand opening party.”
I shouldn’t be surprised that it’s not exactly like he said. In the short time I’ve known him, he’s always exaggerated things. Set up a beach party, and it’s a day in his brother’s backyard and their pool. Ask him to cover a shift at work, and he’ll call off work in my place. I don’t know why I expected this time to be any different.
Even with the new revelation of what my working prospect is, I’m still irritated with everything that happened with Sasha a week ago. I should be happy that it’s finally over. I can get back to my normal life, looking forward to the damn nightmares being over. Except they’re not.
