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Hard Curves (Dangerous Curves Book 2)

Page 20

by James, Marysol


  Naomi turned her cup around in her hands. “Is she OK now? Is she better?”

  Matt paused, amazed that she had the generosity to ask. “She was lucid and stable all the time we were at the hospital, but something changed while I was out at the drug store. By the time you talked to her, she was in a full-on episode and she hasn’t emerged yet. She thinks she’s my fiancée, but she’s not. She thinks she lives with me, but she doesn’t. Mac is with her now, trying to get her to take her meds.”

  “She’s refusing?”

  “Yeah.” King drank some coffee, feeling like he needed it. “And we can’t force her.”

  “You can’t force people to do things they don’t want to do, huh?”

  “No. You can't." He sighed. "She didn’t mean to hurt you, Naomi. She honestly didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t. She’s not a bad person, or a vicious person. She’s just – troubled.”

  She looked down, away from those eyes that she loved. “I get it.”

  “So you believe me?” He held his breath, hoping that it all may be OK yet. “That I didn’t sleep with her? That I’m not engaged?”

  She was silent, thinking. “Yes. Yes, I believe you.”

  But that’s not the real problem here, is it? You know it, girl, and as much as you hate to face it, you will. You will because you have to and because you’re strong enough to.

  “Oh, thank God.” Relieved and elated, he reached across the table to take her hand, but she pulled away.

  “I need some time,” she said. “Time away from you.”

  That stunned him and he sucked in air like a drowning man. “Naomi –”

  “Time, Matt. Give it to me. Please.”

  “Of course I will. I’ll give you anything you need. But – can I ask why? If you believe me and you know nothing happened with Janine….why can’t we be together?”

  “Because yesterday shocked and scared me,” she said slowly. “Even after all my hard work, and everything we’ve been to each other, when the shit hit the fan, my first instinct was to run and drink. I hid away from the world and shut down and stared at bottles of alcohol. Had to fucking talk myself off the ledge all alone – again.”

  “Yeah,” he said reluctantly. “But –”

  “No ‘but’,” she said softly. “Running and hiding and drinking will always be my ‘go to’ instincts, Matt. Always. That’s just how I’m made and wired, and that’s the truth. But the fact that I know that and still chose to act that way yesterday…that shows me that I’m not as ready for all of this as I thought I was. As I hoped I was.”

  “‘All of this’” meaning me.”

  “Meaning us.”

  King’s heart actually hurt in his chest. He’d never known that it was possible for his heart to do that, but as it turns out, it was.

  Is it actually breaking? ‘Cause that’s sure as hell what it feels like.

  “So what do you need?” he said. “Tell me, honey. I’ll do whatever you ask.”

  “Give me time to do something.”

  He waited. “What do you want to do?”

  “One thing. I want to do one thing. If I can, then I’ll know that I’m ready to be with you. All the way, no hiding or holding myself back.”

  “And if you can’t?”

  “Then I need more time.” She gazed at him, her face so warm and sweet. “You don’t need to wait, Matt. I know what I’m saying is open-ended and that’s totally unfair to you. If you need to move on, you do that, OK? Maybe we’ll meet up again one day down the road.”

  “Wait.” Fuck, this was all moving way too fast. “Wait. Are you breaking up with me?”

  “No. I’m telling you what I need, and I’m saying if you can’t live with it, then you should break up with me.”

  “No fucking way.” He was rough and almost angry at the mere suggestion. “I’m here, and this is where I’m staying. That night you told me about being an alcoholic, I said I’d wait months, I’d wait a year. I meant it then, and I mean it now. I’m waiting.”

  “You’ll wait forever?” she asked, almost teasing him.

  “I love you.”

  That shocked her, he saw, and her beautiful eyes widened. “You…”

  “I love you.”

  “Oh.” Stupid answer, but it was all she could manage right then.

  “I love you and I’m waiting. The fucking end.” He stared at her hard, memorizing every curve, every line of the woman who had changed his whole life. He’d need to be able to call them to mind when things got hard; he’d store them away and keep them safe in his heart until he saw her again in the flesh. “You do what you need to, baby, then you come back to me. Next week, next month, next year. I’ll be here, and I’ll still be loving you. That’s a promise.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Three weeks later

  Aidan slid the beer across the bar to King without a word, then he waited. He knew King was there to talk and Aidan wasn’t about to push. Carefully, he observed King, taking him in. He hadn’t been around too much lately, and Aidan had started to worry, maybe just a little bit.

  King was here now, though, just walking on in to the bar at four o’clock on a Wednesday afternoon like that was his normal thing. He looked uncertain and unbalanced, like he’d been hit over the head with something heavy. Then again, he had been…not literally, of course, but man. Aidan knew damn good and well that love can deliver one hell of a wallop when it wants to.

  So here King was, shifting around on his feet like a high school boy standing next to his locker and asking his crush to the prom. Aidan crossed his arms loosely, waited some more. But as the seconds ticked on by, he realized that King didn’t have the first fucking clue what to say, how to put in to words what he really wanted to ask. That was when Aidan took pity on the man.

  “I’ve talked to her,” Aidan said now. “Seen her.”

  King’s head shot up. “When?”

  “A week ago. She called me, we met for coffee.”

  “You didn’t tell me?”

  “Nope.”

  “She asked you not to?”

  “No, she didn’t. I was just waiting for you to ask.”

  King blinked. “But I didn’t ask.”

  “Oh, hell, man. Yes, you did.”

  King grinned. “Yeah, I guess I did.” He paused. “How is she? How did she look?”

  “She looked…” Aidan stopped and tried to think of the best word to describe Naomi. “Clear.”

  “Clear?”

  “Yeah. Clear. Calm like water, but strong like a diamond. Shining, almost.”

  “That’s good.” Inadequate word, King knew, but he lamely offered it up anyway.

  “It is.” Aidan leaned forward. “And you? How are you doing?”

  “Good.” Yeah, he’d go with that adjective again, even though it was a bald-faced lie. He was not good; nothing much was good, in actual fact.

  Bringing Callie and Noah to the Heart Center a few times a week was torture by a thousand paper cuts. He’d drop them off, go no farther than the parking lot, watch them walk in hand-in-hand. Knowing that the woman he loved was right there, just behind those goddamn doors, was making him crazy.

  Sometimes he just sat in his SUV and stared at the door, physically restraining himself from going in to find her. To talk to her, reason with her, plead with her. But he’d made her a promise and that promise was bigger and stronger than even his want. Keeping it was hurting him, though, hurting him badly…and Aidan knew it.

  “Bullshit. You are not good and you sure as hell ain’t clear, so spit it out, whatever it is. That’s what you’re here for, right?” He shrugged. “You and me are beyond the point of pretending that I don’t intimately understand Naomi’s alcoholism, aren’t we?”

  “Yeah. You’re right.” He took a deep breath. “I wanted to ask yo
u what I did wrong with her.”

  That wasn’t what Aidan had been expecting. He cocked his shaggy blond head. “What you did wrong?”

  “What didn’t I do or give her? In what way wasn’t I – enough?”

  “Enough for what?” Aidan was genuinely baffled.

  “Enough for her to cope when shit got bad.” King looked away. “That day she went in to crisis, she shut down, man. She – she regressed. I thought that I’d made her feel so safe and loved…I thought she was strong and steady.”

  “Oh, God,” Aidan said gently. “Nothing. You did nothing wrong. You didn’t fail her. That’s not how this works, OK? You can offer an alcoholic the world on a silver platter – and all your love and support to boot – but at the end of the day, if that person is in crisis and locks themselves alone in a room with a bottle, it comes down to them to walk away. All they see is their addiction, and love doesn’t change that.”

  “Love doesn’t matter?”

  “That’s not what I said. Love does matter. Naomi knows that you’re there for her, and that gives her strength. But you can’t do this for her, so you need to stop thinking you can.”

  “Does she?” This was what he really wanted to know, and his heart beat faster now. “Does she know I’m here? That I haven’t walked away from her and left her alone?”

  Aidan smiled. “She knows.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Because she told me so. She said that you’re not actually with her and she doesn’t see you, but she feels you. She knows you’re waiting, man. She’s working her way back to you, I swear it.”

  King felt tightness in his throat, so tight that he couldn’t speak. Aidan knew, though, and he nodded.

  “Just hold on there, King. It’s going to be OK with you two. I know it.”

  “Keep the faith, yeah?”

  “Damn right.”

  **

  So King held on. And as the last dark and chilly winter days faded away and spring broke, he felt his spirits rise. The city was slowly, tentatively, starting to blossom. Green was shyly appearing everywhere he looked and flower buds were peeking out at the world, wondering if it was safe to come out now.

  When Naomi finally called on that warm day in early April, he was at home making dinner. When he saw her name come up on his cell phone, he dropped the strainer full of rice straight on to the floor and truly didn’t give a crap.

  “Naomi.”

  “Hi, Matt.” She sounded happy. “How are you?”

  “I just dropped a whole package of rice on the floor.”

  She paused. “Cooked or uncooked?”

  “Cooked and steaming hot.”

  She laughed. “Sorry to hear that.”

  “How are you?”

  “Good. I’m really good.” He heard her take a deep breath. “Can I see you?”

  Jesus Christ, yes. Anytime, anywhere.

  “Yes. When?”

  “Now?”

  He was already moving towards the door, grabbing his jean jacket. “Baby, where are you?”

  “At work. Can you meet me here at the Heart Center?”

  “I’ll meet you on the moon, if that’s what you want.”

  She laughed again and he was deliriously thrilled to hear it.

  “Fifteen minutes. I’ll be right there.”

  **

  King almost ran in to the Heart Center and when he saw her standing there waiting for him, he kept right on moving. Without a word, he was on her, holding her close. He felt her breath on his chest, her hair tickled his chin, her curves melted against him.

  “Hi,” she whispered. “I missed you.”

  “Oh, God, honey.” He groaned the words. “I missed you too. So fucking much.”

  She reached up and pulled his face down to hers. Her mouth was hot and hungry, and he kissed her like he did that first time: he took her mouth like she was his and he was hers. She was everything he’d ever wanted or needed and as he held her, he knew he wasn’t letting her go ever again.

  They broke apart but she didn’t move away. His arms tightened around her and she closed her eyes, just stayed where she was for a minute.

  “How are you?” he said quietly, his breath hot in her hair.

  “Good. I’m really good.” Now she did step away from him. “I have something to show you.”

  His eyebrows raised. “Am I going to like it?”

  She giggled. “I think so.”

  “Lead on, then, baby.”

  She stopped dead. “God, I’ve missed that.”

  “What?” His eyes were amused. “Calling you one of my bar girl pet names?”

  “Yep. I’ve grown to quite like it, actually.”

  “Well.” His huge hand caressed her cheek delicately. “They’re all only for you.”

  “Because I’m yours?” Her eyes were anxious. “Still, even after this time apart?”

  “Yes, still. And I’m yours.”

  He saw the relief flash across her face and he smiled.

  Naomi tugged on his hand. “Come on. This way.”

  She led him through the silent open work area, down the hallway to one of the back rooms. He took in all the renovations and changes – walls torn down, piles of materials scattered about like lawsuits-waiting-to-happen, buckets of gray goop and paint. She walked past all the mess and wreckage to a door standing ajar. She stopped just outside of the room.

  “I’ve been using this space for the past few weeks,” she said.

  “As what?”

  “A studio.”

  He looked down at her, his heart pounding. “You’re painting again?”

  “Uh-huh.” Her smile was radiant. “I just finished my first piece painted sober, and I want you to be the first person to see it.”

  “Oh, God.” His voice was hushed. “I’d be honored.”

  She pulled him in to the room now and he stared at the easel standing near the window. The painting there took his breath away, just for a second, and he let go of her hand and walked closer.

  The passion in the painting kicked him in the chest, hard. Unlike all her other work which had largely featured people, this was an abstract. The colors ranged from a blinding hot pink all the way to a cool, pale blue. Strong geometrical shapes were surrounded by elegant, swirling curves; it looked like wind blowing around concrete buildings. The whole painting had a solidity to it, a sense of permanence, but it was still airy and light, somehow.

  He walked closer, saw how the whole image changed. He paused, stepped back again, stepped forward.

  “You see it?” she said.

  “I don’t know.” He squinted. “I see something.”

  “Step back a bit more.”

  He did and now it jumped out at him, so clear and obvious, he wondered how he’d missed it. The blocks and swirls took form, took shape. The blocks were eyes, a nose, a chin; the swirls were cheekbones, lips, hair. The painting was a face. A woman’s face.

  “Is that you?” he asked.

  “Yes. It’s my self-portrait.”

  “You’re beautiful.” He stared at it some more. “So alive.”

  “Messy, though, huh? Hard to see at first behind all the chaos and confusion?”

  King spun around. “I see you. I’ve always seen you.”

  Her tears came now and he opened his arms. She walked in to them, pressed her whole body against his. He lowered his lips to her neck and mouthed tiny kisses along it, his lips gentle and warm. Matt’s scent washed over her and its familiarity was both sexy and comforting.

  “I’m sorry for making you wait for me,” Naomi whispered to his chest. “You deserved better than that.”

  “No.” He lifted her chin and rested his forehead on hers. “I deserved you at your best and for that to happen, you needed time. I’d have
waited forever to see you truly happy and confident.”

  “I am now.” She smiled. “I promise you, I’ve got myself back.” She paused. “Or maybe I’ve got myself for the first time in my whole life.”

  He had no words anymore so King kissed her, hoping that everything he was thinking and feeling could be communicated that way. He knew right away that she both heard him and felt him: she moaned and arched in to his kiss.

  “Matt?”

  “Yeah, honey?”

  “Make love to me.”

  His whole body went hard. “With pleasure.”

  They undressed each other slowly, taking the time to remember the other person’s body and its sweet spots. Within minutes, it was like they’d never been apart for even one hour. Naomi ran her tongue over his collarbone, King kissed the length of her shoulders; she circled his nipples, he ran his finger down her hips. That was when he saw it and he went to his knees to get a better look.

  “When did you get it done?” he said.

  “Remember at my one-year ceremony, when I said that I left the hotel and went and did something that really meant something to me?”

  “This was it?”

  “Yeah.”

  He ran his fingertip over the tattoo’s lines. “It’s gorgeous.”

  “You think?”

  “I really do. Is it a lotus flower?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tell me what it means to you.”

  “Lotuses celebrate emerging from a struggle and being stronger for it.” Naomi traced the white petals. “They’re new beginnings, but they’re also warnings… reminders to never forget the struggle. And they’re promises, too – promises to never return to the scene of the conflict. To move on.”

  “You’ve made that promise?”

  She smiled down at him. “I re-make that promise every day.”

  “It’s getting easier to keep?”

  “Yes. Every day, it’s a bit easier.”

  King stood up. “I want to make you a promise, too.”

  “OK.”

  “I promise to have your back on the battlefield, baby. Never again do you feel like you’re fighting this fight alone. I can’t take on this addiction for you, but I sure as hell can stand behind you as you stare it down.”

 

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