When Opposites Collide Boxset

by Kathy Coopmans

  I glance down at the pile of paperwork once again that requires my signature, along with an even larger pile of doctors in the LA area. There has to be a clue about Amelia’s family hidden somewhere. It’s a puzzle I’m devoted to finishing. It doesn’t even matter if I’m dying to solve it for all the wrong reasons. Seeing Amelia in her state now only drives me harder and faster to find redemption for her.

  Christ, I wish Human Resources would call me with a candidate to interview for my secretary position. It’s been one week since Lori came in here in tears telling me she was giving me her two weeks’ notice. Her mother fell, broke her hip, and she was moving back to Colorado to take care of her full time. I instinctively told her I didn’t want the two weeks. That family was more important, and I would get along fine. Family is more important. I know better than anyone how true that is. Now, though, as I stand here gazing at a woman who’s stalking my way, I wish I had taken all this shit with me and shot my ass straight for home.

  “Come on, Zeke. You look tired. I know just the way to pull all that tension out of you,” she purrs. For fuck’s sake, I hope you’ve learned your lesson, Zeke.

  What the hell happened to the shy woman from months ago? Ahh. I know she up and disappeared. Basically, the cunt never existed. Like all the rest of the women whom I use and who use me. Marissa is after my money, and I used her for sex. She’s being ignored, so she thinks if she lures me into bed, then all will be right in her delusional world again. Indulging in meaningless sex doesn’t appeal to me anymore. It never will again. I’ve got my work cut out for me with Amelia, and I know it. There’s just something about her that has me thinking past the boundaries of our friendship. Somewhere down the road where we take it past friends, and until that day gets here or until I know without a shadow of a doubt that Amelia herself feels that way, I’ll be damned if I risk it. Or her.

  “I think I’ll pass,” I retort, take a step back when she advances on me by cupping my cock right through my jeans.

  The brain that makes more decisions for me doesn’t even react. Fuck. I’m too far gone for a blue-eyed beauty.

  “What the hell has gotten into you these past few months?”

  Ouch. I almost feel sorry for her. Marissa hasn’t missed any of the signs I’ve thrown her way. She’s desperate for me to make her come.

  “Not interested. Marissa, you’re a smart and amazing woman. Find a guy who appreciates those aspects.” I shift around her, pull open the door, and wait for her to exit.

  “Is there someone else?”

  There’s no need to answer her question. A couple quick fucks in the on-call room months ago are far from a nailed-down relationship. Jesus H. Christ. I’m a thirty-seven-year-old man, and I’m not standing here having a useless conversation. What I do is none of her business. The less this devil woman in disguise knows, the better.

  “I’m leaving and so are you. Please stop begging. It does not suit you. You are not what I want. You will never be what I want.” I can’t be any blunter than that. I could be, but I’m not that kind of man.

  The chill in my voice leaves no room for discussion. Marissa finally catches on. Do I feel like a dick? Yes, I do. Am I going to string her along for the ride? Nope. There are other priorities in my life that need my attention.

  The large pile of paperwork on my desk is dumped into my briefcase. I’m done talking, so I usher Marissa out of my office with a hand gesture while I stand at the door knowing this will not be her last visit and request of me.

  My night can now be full of sifting through paperwork while sipping sweet whiskey accompanied by visions of different hues of blue.

  “I know I’m ready, Ronan. I can feel it in my heart. I need to take the next step in healing.”

  I’m about ready to round the corner to sign in when I hear a confident voice I barely recognize coming out of Ronan’s office. It’s her, though; I can feel her humming through my veins. Flapping her wings and wanting to soar.

  “Like I said, my sister has a spare room that she’s already agreed you can rent. I believe you're ready to see what’s out there for you. You have excellent computer skills. Use them to find a job and promise me you’ll attend one of the support groups on a regular basis, and you're free to go.”

  Go? Job? Shit. I’ve become accustomed to her being within walking distance from the hospital that I never put a thought to where she would go once she left here. Hell, no. I act on instinct, knock on the doorframe, and pray to God that what I came over here to run by Ronan first is the right thing to do.

  “Hey, Zeke. Come in,” Ronan calls out from behind his desk, and there she is. The vision of my dreams. God, she looks like an angel sitting there. Her mouth tipped up, her hair down, framing her face.

  Her beautiful face that would have been unrecognizable to anyone is now a work of art. I’m not talking about the makeup or the bright red lipstick across her lips that I want to taste as badly as my body needs its next meal. I’m talking about a combination of things.

  It’s the work of doctors who took special care to make every marring scar disappear from what those rotten pieces of scum did to her. Those very same men who those cops haven’t done jack shit to find. It’s the way she holds her head up, shoulders back, and sits there wrenching her hands together in her lap. It’s the light in her eyes when she sees me. A beauty that honest to fucking God runs skin deep that it makes me want to kill her mother myself before I turn the gun on the men who stole the beauty that halos around her.

  “Zeke, what are you doing here?” She stands, and if I don’t pull my head out of my ass, both she and Ronan are going to shut me down the minute I speak.

  Hell, they might anyway. It’s a terrible idea. The worst for her probably but not for me. I can’t seem to help it; it comes tumbling out of my mouth anyway.

  “I came here to talk, to offer you a job and a place to stay,” I half lie, then smile to myself and stand in the doorway like a teenage kid picking up his first date.

  Idiot. She’s going to shoot you down. She has yet to come out and tell me face-to-face what happened to her. Who knows? She may never. I won’t push her either. That’s her nightmare to revisit when she’s ready.

  Ever since I stood outside this very same door several months ago and heard her start to confess what they did to her, I’ve had nightmares that would shake up the devil himself. I wasn’t there, but I sure as hell feel her pain, see her vacant eyes, and visualize nearly every night what those sick bastards did to take her natural beauty away from her.

  “What?” Both she and Ronan say at the same time. Amelia sounds like a high-pitched squealing mouse, and Ronan, well, he plain and simple sounds not one bit surprised. Fucker thinks he has me pegged. Whatever he thinks, he’s got it all wrong.

  “Get in here and close the door, Zeke.” Now he sounds pissed. Good. That’s the reaction I need. For him to stand up for her and show how much he cares. He looks to Amelia for some kind of silent answer, and when she closes her eyes and nods yes, my heart skips about a hundred fucking beats. The door. It has to remain open.

  I internally want to punch myself. I’ve gone batshit crazy over a woman who more than likely hates every man who walks on this earth. Couldn’t blame her if she did, but I’ve never in my life been drawn to anyone as I am to her. I know the difference between right and wrong. Between wanting to help someone out of the kindness of your heart, letting them go their separate ways, or for whatever reason there’s a voice inside your head, talking to you constantly. Screaming at you to not let that person walk away. He or she was meant to be in your life. It’s the same type of feeling I had when we first met Curtis in that bar years ago. The same fondness I have for the club. For Katch. For Caitlin.

  Amelia Moore was meant to be in my life.

  And she knows it. I feel it every single time we play a game of basketball. The way her eyes bore into mine to give her the answer about the way we are drawn to each other. The way she felt up against me. The way my skin ignit
ed in a burst of wildfire flames out of control when she hugged me. It was a simple hug. But powerful in so many ways.

  And I’d be a bigger Goddamn fool than what I just spewed out of my mouth if I were to let her walk out of here without figuring out this slow-burning spark ignited between us.

  I should have sat down and talked to her about it. Explained that I’m not trying to confuse her or take advantage of her in any way. I want this woman in my life. I’ll wait for her as long as it takes. Because I’ve never wanted a woman who has started out as my friend to grow into something more. It has nothing to do with wanting to help her out. Not anymore. It has everything to do with not wanting to let this woman who has so much to give walk out of my life.

  It will break me down if she never reciprocates my growing feelings for her. That shit doesn’t matter. It’s about principles. The fact that I have the means to help her. To solve her problem for her. The rest she needs to figure out on her own.

  38

  Amelia

  “That’s right. You both heard me. It just so happens I know a certain someone who could use a secretary and a roommate,” Zeke says with more authority than I’m used to hearing coming from his mouth. I think someone has just struck me dumb. I can’t quite possibly be sitting here hearing what I think I am. Can I?

  My gaze travels to his mouth. The same beautiful mouth I can’t seem to erase from my mind. He’s all I think about. All I see, besides the voice in my head telling me it’s time to take another step forward. To erase my past and do right by me. Could this be what’s right?

  I woke up this morning with an extra pep in my step. Determined to take Ronan up on his offer of letting me rent a room from his older sister, Renee. I’ve spent more time with her than anyone else in here over the past few months, and she has become more of a mother to me than my own.

  She’s helped me in ways I can never pay her back. She listens. She cares and gives you advice without demanding you take it.

  It’s the same way Zeke, Ronan, Zoe, and everyone else in here has. Renee works here. In the kitchen, preparing our meals. Making cakes for birthdays and special occasions. I’ve learned how to cook, bake, and use my talent for painting on decorating cakes, cookies, and anything else that requires a steady hand; and here he is storming into my thoughts that I’ve kept to myself up until now as if he knew I was ready to get out of here. As if he sensed I needed help once again.

  “I’m not good with interacting with people, Zeke. Hell, I’m not all the way there with being good with myself. I can’t be someone’s secretary. Let alone move in with someone I don’t know,” I answer meekly. Even though my brain is screaming for me to jump up and say yes.

  “That’s not true. You opened right up to me. To Ronan, to everyone else here. You’ve opened up to yourself. Besides, you wouldn’t be working in the public much at all. You’d be working for me.”

  “What?” I say again. Angrily this time. The lock clicks in place and my mind travels back to all those years ago when the door would creak open, quietly shut, and that dreaded noise of the lock would pop into place. There is no way he would do this to me. He would not spend all this money, this time, to trap me somewhere and take. I can’t allow my mind to go there.

  Not with the two of them watching me like a hawk ready to swoop down and attack as they wait out my startled reaction. I tame my thoughts. Stuff them in the back of my head until I’m alone. I may be over the largest hump of the devastation that put me here, but I’m in no way where I want to be in my life. My mind still takes off in a wild crazy sprint at any given time. The triggers are real and alive. They always catch me right before I wake up. My nightmares are happening less and less, but the ones I do have are as real as if I were being abused all over again. Not to mention these strange feelings I have nowhere to hide from when I think of Zeke.

  The man does something to me. He makes me want things I used to think of when I was a little girl. He makes me want to fall so hard for someone. To have a man kiss me, hold me, and tell me everything is going to be all right. That together we will make it through anything. Even when the times become rough.

  My insides jump, and I close my eyes to gain my composure back before the demons inside of me strip me bare.

  “If you don’t mind, I’d like to speak to her about this alone, Ronan.” Zeke’s deep voice sets my soul on fire. It scares me, too. Not in the way men have before. It scares my heart. It’s pounding so hard one would think I’m having a heart attack.

  He’s so soft spoken. So sincere yet sure and confident in the way he speaks and moves. Not at all like the men I grew up with. I know this about him. He would never do anything to hurt me. I have to continue to believe. To trust him. I’m scared. Utterly frightened that I’ll slip. I’ve come so far. Shared so many dreams with Renee and Zoe that one tiny little step backward will mess me up. It could spiral me in the wrong direction.

  God help me, please. I have a choice. My mind tells me. A choice to say no. A choice to say yes. Please give me the direction.

  I wait for the door to click shut. It doesn’t, which gives me a sense of relief in knowing Ronan knows I hate being shut in behind a closed door. One that I don’t close and lock myself. It’s a habit I’ve grown accustomed to, since there aren’t any doors or locks on any of the rooms I go into except those here in the office, and I’ll only go in there with Renee or Zoe.

  “Bluebird, open your eyes, please?” God. His voice sends chills down my arms. They pucker and tingle. A new sensation. A new feeling to let me know I’m alive.

  I have no idea if I do; all I know for sure is, I’m shaking my head. Zeke and I are only beginning a friendship that means more to me than even I can comprehend, and he wants something from me. I know he does.

  “Why do you call me that?” I should be asking him what he wants from me. Instead, I find myself asking him about the bird I’ve searched on the Internet.

  He chuckles, and I gasp. He’s sitting close to me. His eyes right there in my line of sight. They shine brightly. No dark, shadowy evil behind them. Sincerity. I see it everywhere across his features. From the creases across his forehead that spread to the top of his head. He really believes I can do this.

  I’m trembling.

  “Your eyes. They remind me of the color of those birds. Some days, they’re almost violet. Bluebirds are becoming rarer every year, Amelia. When you see one, you can’t help but stop and stare. They see the world. The good and the bad. And when you watch them, wait patiently for them to spread their wings and fly, you want to fly with them, too. To see what they see and what they don’t.”

  Oh. My. God. That is the most beautiful thing I have heard.

  This man cannot be real. A woman like me does not have a man of his stature wanting to bring her into his home. God. This is unreal.

  “Zeke. I’m a mess. We barely know each other. There are things about my past that I’ve shared with very few people. The way you're looking at me right now, in a way I don’t understand. I would feel shameful if I told you the things I’ve done. The things that have happened to me. You’ve done so much for me already. This, it’s too much. I need to make it on my own. Stop accepting handouts. I’ll never get better if I don’t spread my wings and fly on my own.”

  His vision roams back and forth between mine and the art on Ronan’s office walls. I can read them as clearly as I see my life has changed. They are filled with the knowledge that he knows this and he’ll do everything in his power to permit me to fly on my own.

  “Amelia, you need to listen to me. I’m not here to take anything away from you. I’m here to do something I feel is right. There isn’t any shame or blame in taking someone’s help. Your past, it has nothing to do with the here and now. At least not with the conversation we're having. I would never push you or take advantage of you. I’m not wired that way. I give because I can. I do because I want to; and I’m looking at you this way, because to me, there is more beauty on the inside of you than on the outs
ide. You just need to allow her to come out. Now, don’t get me wrong.” He chuckles again, and I giggle, causing his brows to quirk up. “I think you are one stunning-looking woman on the outside. But a person’s outside is as ugly as whatever it was that brought you to live on the streets in the first place. If their insides aren’t beautiful, then the way they look on the outside doesn’t mean a damn thing. At least not to me, and you, Bluebird, are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” I retract my earlier statement. That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.

  I stare softly at him. My emotions are running a tight race with my mind to see which one will win. I don’t know what to do. I’ve been fearful of men my whole life. Look at how long it took me to warm up to Ronan?

  “I’m not moving in with you until I’ll tell you something. Then you think about it and decide if the person you believe me to be is a person you want living with you. I’m an addict, Zeke. Not only to drugs.” I bite my lip as tears are blurring my vision, and like the coward I used to be, my head wants to drop down, so he doesn’t see me.

  Choices.

  “I’m listening. Go on, please.” He is so polite. A real gentleman. And yet, I see a part of him, too, that’s hidden behind the bright irises of his eyes. He’s used to being in control. Getting what he wants. And he’s giving these things up for me.

  “When I first admitted to myself and then to Ronan about the things I did in order to get my high, I was ashamed. I still am. Sitting here telling you, I’m not only ashamed. I’m remorseful, mortified, and now I’m feeling something inside of me I don’t have a description for. Out of the goodness of your heart you’ve done more for me than my own mother ever has. I…” I pause. I remember Ronan telling me after I apologized that actions don’t always speak louder than words. Not if the two of them are meant to work together. I’m not going to hold back my tears with him or with anyone else. I have every right to wear my emotions on my sleeve. I’m human. I breathe the same air as he does.