Thrive (Guardian Protection)

by Aly Martinez

  “You still like that, right?”

  She twisted her lips, but it still showed in her smile. “I never liked it.”

  My chin jerked to the side. “What? Yes you did.”

  She laughed and started opening containers. “Nope. Or sweet and sour chicken. Or salt and pepper shrimp.” She bit her bottom lip and winked. “Though that’s a nice-looking spring roll.”

  “What the hell are you talking about? This was exactly what you used to order when we went out to dinner.”

  “Yeah. But I didn’t eat any of it. I don’t even like Chinese.” She took a big bite out of the spring roll and then motioned for me to pass the beer.

  I held the bottom and offered her the neck. “You are so full of shit. We used to go all the time.”

  She drained the rest of the beer and set the empty on the counter. “Because you loved Chinese, especially that little place next to post.”

  “No. You’re not remembering right. You loved that restaurant more than I did. You even paid most of the time.” I didn’t delay in retrieving another brew from the fridge, twisting the top, and passing it her way.

  She barked a laugh and then did that weird, nostalgic teary-eyed smile thing again as she took it from my hand. “I’m absolutely remembering correctly. It used to take you two hours to eat all that food because you refused to waste any of it.”

  I chuffed. “Yeah, because you ordered enough to feed four, and it’s not like you helped much, barely picking—” I abruptly stopped talking.

  “Bingo!” she replied, tapping the end of her nose.

  My back shot straight as realization dawned on me. “Holy shit.”

  “Told ya.” She grinned with pride and took another bite of the spring roll.

  “Fuck…that’s crazy. I would have sworn this was your favorite.”

  “Well, it’s not like I ever told you or anything.” She shrugged and plopped two of the crab-and-cream-cheese puffs onto a plate. “It’s okay. You remembered the important stuff. Spring rolls and crab ragoon for the win.” With the beer dangling between her fingers, she started past me when a thought hit me.

  I snaked a hand out and caught her elbow. “So, why did we go there so often?”

  She angled her head back to look up at me, her cheeks flashing to the most amazing shade of pink as she whispered, “Because sometimes it rained.”

  “What?”

  She kept her gaze locked on mine. “We didn’t go to the woods when it rained. And… I missed you. So I’d call and offer to buy you Chinese food I knew you loved and couldn’t refuse. I ordered a ton because, let’s be honest, back then, you didn’t even chew as much as you inhaled food. But, for however long it took you to finish, just so nothing would go to waste, I got you on a night when I otherwise wouldn’t have.”

  My stomach sank. Jesus. Christ. If I’d thought knowing she was saving up for a bar and volunteering at an animal shelter was bad, this shit blew it out of the water. I didn’t need to know she’d ever missed me. I didn’t need to know she’d faked reasons to spend time with me. And I sure as fuck didn’t need to know that talking about it now put that sparkle of regret in her eyes.

  I needed to keep things in perspective.

  I needed to keep my head together.

  I needed to…

  “C’mere,” I urged. With one hand, I took the plate from her hands and caught the neck of the beer between two fingers. Then I folded the other arm around her shoulders and pulled her against my chest.

  She came all too willingly.

  “I’m sorry…” There should have been a million words to finish that thought, but I wasn’t ready to say any of them. So, instead, I finished with, “That I got Chinese.”

  She laughed, but it broke when her arms encircled my hips. “Don’t be. It may not be raining, but I’ll still eat Chinese any day of the week if it buys me time with you.”

  I really didn’t need to know that, either.

  Closing my eyes, I did the best I could to ignore the burning in my chest.

  But it was too strong.

  Too intense.

  Too…Mira.

  I let out a heavy sigh and gathered her closer. It was exhausting to pretend not to feel things for her.

  “You’re killing me with the sweet, Mir.” Sliding my hand down to the small of her back, I dipped under the flowing material of her shirt and allowed my fingers to splay over her bare skin.

  She gasped and arched into my touch, pressing her breasts against me.

  I smiled to myself and whispered, “And that’s not helping, either.”

  “Huh?” she asked, tilting her head back but keeping her cheek to my chest.

  Tucking a stray hair behind her ear, I stared down at her and allowed myself to fully absorb the moment.

  It was so surreal to have her there.

  In my house.

  In my arms.

  In my life.

  But was she back?

  I’d barely come out of the other end of losing her once. But that had been a different time. A different place. And, for the way my heart was slamming around in my chest, I hoped like hell that it had been a different Mira. There was only one way to find out.

  “What happened after you told me to leave that day?” I asked.

  Her body went stiff, and she flicked her gaze off to the side. “A lot happened, Jeremy.”

  “Then I want to hear it all. You and Kurt. Kurt and the drugs. You after Kurt. I need to know. And I need you to give that to me, baby.”

  Her eyes came back to mine, and they were so bright it would have melted any kind of resolve I’d still had left. If I’d had any.

  “Anything,” she breathed.

  “That dumb fuck!” Jeremy boomed, passing the beer to me.

  I had a nice little buzz, but I was far from the lightweight I’d once been. We’d polished off a six-pack over dinner with no signs of slowing.

  God, I’d missed the fine art of doing absolutely nothing with someone else and enjoying every single second of it.

  After we’d eaten, we’d both kicked our shoes off and settled on opposite ends of his couch in the basement. After several trips to retrieve more beer from the mini fridge, the space between us was growing smaller and smaller.

  And, with every inch that disappeared, my pulse raced faster and faster.

  “Well…yes, he was. But you haven’t even been gone from the story for twenty minutes yet.”

  “And he’s already a dumb fuck!” He blew out an exasperated huff and flopped back against the couch, snapping his fingers for me to hurry up and give him the beer.

  I giggled, tipped it up for a short sip, and then sent it his way.

  I hadn’t exactly been thrilled at the idea of telling Jeremy all about my past with Kurt. I felt like we were finally making headway between the two of us. And, while I had no idea what direction that headway was taking us, it was a hell of a lot better than where we’d been.

  He kicked his feet up on the coffee table and pointed his gaze to the ceiling. “Okay, so you help him back inside, he calls you a whore, and then what happened?”

  “I slapped him.” I grinned as Jeremy’s head jerked to mine.

  “For real?”

  I laughed. “He called me a whore.”

  Chuckling, he looked back up at the ceiling. “What next?”

  “I got in his face, told him that, if there was a whore in our relationship, it was him.”

  “That’s the damn truth.” He passed me the beer.

  “We got to arguing and the craziest thing happened. He stopped acting like I was the one in the wrong. He was more adamant on covering his own lies than he was about coming down on me for having an affair with you. I kept bringing up women that I knew he’d been with and he kept denying it or overexplaining, talking in circles.” I pursed my lips and turned my gaze on Jeremy, regret clouding my vision. That one day defined my entire life.

  And I’d paid for it, hand over fist, for almost half of my life.<
br />
  Now, there I was, sitting on Jeremy Lark’s couch, passing beers back and forth, wishing that I could turn back the hands of time so I could have been doing this for almost half of my life instead.

  Deciding to live in the here and now, I scooted another inch toward him. “Anyway. His reaction enraged me. We’d always argued about his suspected cheating in the past. But he always had some kind of stupid excuse. And, honestly, back then, I had you, so I didn’t really care what he was doing. But, in that moment, with you gone, while I was rattling off a laundry list of women that I knew he’d been with, the reality of it all came crashing down on me.”

  He took the beer from my hand and polished it off in one long pull. Then, without a word, he stood up, went to the mini fridge in the corner, and was back in less than a minute, a fresh beer in hand.

  I smiled weakly as he twisted the top off and offered it to me.

  And then he sat down.

  Right next to me.

  As in directly next to me.

  Shoulder to shoulder.

  Arm to arm.

  Thigh to thigh.

  Calf to Calf.

  The side of his foot even pressed against mine.

  It was exactly how we’d always sat on the back of his truck. And it hurt almost as much as it healed the gaping wound in my chest. My throat got thick with emotion, but I forced myself to take a sip of the beer before passing it.

  I nearly choked when his large hand landed just above my knee.

  Another familiar gesture.

  Another pang of regret.

  The tiniest morsel of hope igniting inside me.

  “Keep talking,” he gently ordered.

  His proximity was stifling, because I couldn’t think about anything but him. Short of crawling into his lap, I couldn’t get much closer, but that didn’t stop me from wanting it. Every inch of his body touching every inch of mine. And none of that was sexual. Not that I wouldn’t have minded his warm, wet mouth, his hard length driving inside me, or losing myself in an orgasm that I knew would be spectacular because they always had been with him. But all of that was second to how much I wanted to feel his arms around me. Too many nights, I’d imagined he was there. Holding me. Whispering his hopes and dreams into the top of my hair. His heart beating in time with mine.

  Safe.

  Secure.

  Comfortable.

  Three things I only ever felt with him.

  Those memories had gotten me through a lot of hard times. No matter how many shadows had been hanging over me. With the lights off, my eyes closed, a pillow held to my chest, Jeremy had always been just a dream away.

  Taking the risk, I leaned against him and continued talking. “I stormed to our bedroom and started throwing shit in a bag. Kurt lost his mind. I’d never seen him like that. He dropped to his knees. Begged me to stay. Told me how sorry he was. Swore that it would never happen again.” My lips got tight. “I was utterly shocked.”

  “He was probably afraid you’d go back to me,” he said.

  I bit my lip and tried not to focus on the sharp sting in my chest. God, had I wanted to do that. I’d stood in that room, a tote bag filled with everything I’d ever need, and contemplated calling Jeremy and begging him to come back for me. I had not one doubt that he would have come, but it would have only been out of spite. He had been pissed that Kurt had ruined his career, so I couldn’t blame him. But I hadn’t been real excited to be used as his tool for revenge.

  Jeremy had cared about me. I knew that. But it was never the way I wanted him to.

  We were friends who hung out and had sex. I made it all too convenient for him. But I wasn’t the woman who stopped his heart or filled his lungs. Nor was I the woman who consumed his thoughts or owned his soul.

  Despite that, he’d always been that man for me.

  And, that day, as I’d stared down at my bag, tears rolling down my face, no place to go, no money, no car, nothing that wasn’t connected to Kurt fucking Benton, I’d accepted that it was easier to stay with a man who claimed he loved me with words, but not with actions, rather than to love a man with my entire being when he didn’t love me with either.

  Swallowing hard, I replied, “Yeah. He couldn’t stand the idea of you besting him.”

  “That man had more pride than anyone I’d ever met. The minute I told you to get in my truck, it became about me taking something from him. In Kurt’s world, he was the king and I was nothing more than his loyal subject who was challenging him. It was the same bullshit with him putting the ammunition in my wall locker. He’d cottoned on that we were too close, but judging by the look on his face when I told him we were sleeping together, he had no clue it had gotten that far.” His hand spasmed on my leg, and his eyes filled with apology.

  A pressure I didn’t immediately recognize filled in my chest, and I dropped my head onto his shoulder. “Yeah…that day. You showing up drunk. It didn’t quite work out for any of us.”

  “I know,” he whispered before clearing his throat. “So, you stayed?”

  “I didn’t really have anywhere else to go. Though the street corner might have been a better option. But you know how I am. Change gets me all worked up until I just want to shut down. So that’s exactly what I did. I locked myself in our bedroom for two full weeks, only leaving to work. Kurt and I didn’t speak, but for those fourteen days, he didn’t go out with the guys. He came home after work. Cooked dinner. Left it in the microwave for me. And then took up residence on the couch for the rest of the night.”

  “So, he finally pulled his head out of his ass?”

  “That would be a big, fat no.”

  He gave my leg another squeeze. “Shit.”

  “For the first few months after you left, I convinced myself that he was a changed man. He’d seen the light. The error of his ways. Learned his lesson. All that crap. And, for a while, we actually stopped fighting all the time.” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “He proposed that first Christmas.”

  Jeremy’s body sagged, and then chills scattered across my skin when I felt his lips on the top of my hair as he said, “I heard. Mutual friend called to ask me if I was going to be at the wedding. I thought about showing up with two engagement rings. Pushing my luck one last time.”

  My head snapped up, nearly knocking him in the mouth. “What?”

  He chuckled, but it was sad. “Then I remembered I couldn’t even afford gas to get there, much less two engagement rings. And then I remembered that was exactly why you picked him to begin with. So I got drunk instead.”

  He tried to pass me the beer, but I couldn’t do anything but stare.

  “You thought about showing up with two engagement rings?”

  He shrugged, his lips twitching with humor. But I found not one thing humorous about what he was saying.

  Oh. My. God.

  “Seriously?” I croaked.

  “I assumed he’d only given you one. I figured two would sway the odds in my favor.”

  I battled for oxygen while what was left of my heart shattered into a million jagged pieces, each one slicing me to the bone as it crashed to the ground at my feet.

  His whole handsome face softened, the most unlikely of smiles curling his kissable lips. “Don’t look at me like that. I know it sounds pitiful, but back then, I was a wreck.”

  I blinked back tears, my stomach twisting into a rope of knots. “It doesn’t sound pitiful,” I whispered.

  He chuffed. “Right.”

  Chancing the rejection, I reached down and covered his hand on my thigh with my own. “I’m serious. It doesn’t sound sad at all, because all dolled up in an expensive wedding dress that had been custom made for me and a pair of heels that cost more than I made in month, I stared at the door of that church, wishing and praying with my entire being that you’d suddenly appear and whisk me away to the woods.”

  It was his turn to be shocked. “What?”

  My nose started stinging, so I forced a laugh to keep the tears at bay. “Tur
ns out, it’s really hard to marry a man when a part of you belongs to someone else.”

  He moved fast, yanking his hand out from under mine as he slid across the couch, leaving several feet between us. “What?” he repeated, his eyes wild.

  My face flashed with embarrassment. “I…um…”

  After setting the beer on the end table, he pushed to his feet and raked a hand through the top of his hair. “You expected for me to show up at your wedding and whisk you into the woods?”

  I shook my head rapidly, panic building within me. “No. That’s not what I meant.”

  “That’s what you just fucking said.”

  I knotted my hands in my lap. “I said, I wished and prayed you would. Not that I expected you to.”

  “Right. Because you sent me away.” He took a step forward and stabbed a finger down at me. “You were the one who told me to go. And you were the one who chose him.”

  Confused, I peered up at his irate face. His breathing was labored, and his jaw had turned to stone.

  Mr. Hyde had arrived.

  Unable to look at him any longer, I cut my gaze to the wall and confirmed the biggest regret of my life. “Yeah. I did that.”

  “You did what?” he asked, but it was more of a demand than a question.

  Tears filling my eyes, I gave him my gaze back and softly replied, “I sent you away and picked Kurt.”

  I waited for the onslaught of anger. The fighting, the yelling, the rehashing.

  But the strangest thing happened. The angry man in front of me disappeared.

  His shoulders sagged, and he blew out a hard breath. His brutal stare gentled, and with one slash of his hand, he grabbed the beer off the end table, pivoted on a toe, and then parked himself on the couch.

  Shoulder to shoulder.

  Arm to arm.

  Thigh to thigh.

  Calf to Calf.

  Poof, like a magic trick only missing the cloud of smoke, my Jeremy reappeared.

  I had no idea what the hell had set him off. He’d confessed that he’d thought about showing up with two rings, but it had enraged him for me to say that I’d dreamed he’d followed through. It made no sense.