by Lisa DeBells
“He sounds mad. Shit, Ariel.”
“I’m not sure when. Looks like you will find out for yourself.”
“Fuck.” I looked at her murderously. “I can’t see him. Not like this.”
“Calm your shiz, woman, it’s not like he has a key?” Her raised perfectly shaped eye-brow questioningly.
“What . . . no. Well maybe. I left a key for him in the foyer last time he was here. It never came up again.”
“So he has a key.” Ariel shook her bouncing hair at me. “You’re in trouble. If he has the key.”
I bit off a huge chunk of pizza and contemplated my next move. Wine. I gulped the rest of the flute down, left my half-eaten slice on the plate and silently prayed that Mitchell was not on his way here. I couldn’t handle a scene right now. Ariel had only just managed to placate me with food and wine. Her presence was like a Band-Aid. I wanted to shade myself in the gloom of my own pity for a few more days.
The wine buzzed around my body, making my limbs a little more lax. It warmed me up from the inside out.
“If I see that man I will rip shreds off him, I don’t care how hot he is. You deserve better than him, Eds.”
“Just let me handle him, okay? If I get the chance.”
“Now, in other news, how good is he in the sack? Spill it, bitch.” God bless her for trying to lighten my mood.
“A girl never tells, you know that.”
“Not true, I always share. Sharing is caring.” And we both burst into a fit of giggles.
“Ariel, I’m kicking you out. Thank you for being here, bringing food, and putting Mitch in his place. Now you need to leave before he turns up here. So shoo, woman.”
********
I raced into my room like a bat out of hell. My heart was bouncing in my chest like a basketball being dribbled by LeBron James. Before my brain had the chance to catch up with my heart and change my mind, I threw on the first items of clothing that my eager fingers could get a hold on. I needed to get all of this off my chest; the whole ‘I need some time’ bullshit had really done a number on me. I wasn’t mentally equipped to deal with Mitchell’s distance, and with the mountain of heartache that this time had had on me, I needed to know one way or another if my heart was about to be crushed into tiny pieces. Pieces I couldn’t even contemplate putting back together. This could devastate me; Mitchell had the potential to break me.
I regretted not telling him weeks ago about my family, the accident and what it had done to me, how I’d survived, barely . . .
I was holding out on him; that was the truth behind my sadness and distance. I couldn’t fully commit to him. Even when I’d told him I was his, I wasn’t really, not when I had this noose slipped around my neck. It choked me every year. I would never be anyone’s if I could never open up. Maybe if I did, Mitchell could have been upfront with me about the distance he needed. No, I couldn’t think like that. He asked, I gave, and now it was time to ‘fess up because me steering clear for another day was impossible.
I forced my legs through my True Religion jeans doing a jumpy dance to get them over my round butt. They were super skinny and looked fucking amazing, but I didn’t care about that right now. I was going to have to pull my shit together; there was no room to falter, knowing that I would look into the face that had haunted me in my dreams. Talk about being utterly confused. I knew the answers were coming. As much as I dreaded getting them.
I buttoned down my white shirt, and reached back into my wardrobe for a jacket. My hand rested on the soft buttery leather. I reefed it off the hanger and threw it on my bed. It was cold out and had been thundering, so I pulled on my long black boots, no heel, in case I needed to run . . . again. I bent my head over and pulled my hair into the middle of my head. When I stood back up, I twisted an elastic around it. Grabbing a scarf off my chair, I threw it on hastily and without any real fusion. Snatching my jacket off the bed, I pulled it on as I run to the foyer, I picked up my way too big handbag and waited, tapping my fingernails on the side table impatiently killing time while the lift doors open.
********
It was an eerie night, and I was freezing to the bone. The moon was a sliver of silver against a dark inky sky. I breathed in the biting cold air and it spiked my senses, like I could feel a million things a second because it was all in slow motion. It was just my mind playing tricks on me. I was delaying each moment; fear will do that to you. There was a lot I missed out on growing up because I held myself back, just in case it didn’t end well. Well, not anymore. It didn’t matter what happened with Mitchell; I wouldn’t be content with just existing, I was going to take life by the balls and squeeze out every ounce of exhilaration I could. Well, it sounded great in theory.
I took the lift up to Mitchell’s floor like we had done many times together, kissing, fondling, and barely keeping our hands off each other in the process. I wrapped my arms around myself and tried to hold it together, as if it could help.
The elevator stopped, and so did I—like, my heart literally stopped. I forced my ice-cold hands to push the heavy antique door across the floor. I willed my legs to take the steps they needed to, just to get me to the door. Maybe he wasn’t here; he could be anywhere. He could have someone here, a woman, that woman! Fuck it all to hell. I immediately saw red. I’m quite sure I could turn violent if that was the scene that greeted me. I took a deep strengthening breath and loosened my hands that had balled into fists.
I knocked on Mitchell’s door, a few light taps. And waited. Nothing. My heart ramped up its pace. I knocked again, with more gusto this time. Still nothing. I placed my ear to the door like some weird stalker, hoping for a sound. I rapped louder and longer on the hardwood door until tiny fissures of pain shot up my knuckles. Fuck! He wasn’t even here.
A thought occurred to me, one of those light-bulb moments. Mitchell pulling me out of the elevator by the hand, stretching up above the doorframe on his long legs for the key that opened his front door. He’d placed it back and I’d seen those wicked heartbreaking green eyes cheekily appraising me with a secretive smile.
That was one way in. I could I do it. Should I? I was quite sure anyone could, but was I willing to let myself in, uninvited, when he possibly wasn’t there? Hell yes woman, find your balls and pull them out and open that door!
Before I had a moment to chicken out I launched myself on the corner of the heavy planter box and felt around the top of the timber. Bingo! I jumped down and jiggled it in my face. I was about to do a break and enter.
I put the key into the lock and turned. It was like slicing through butter as I placed my free hand on the door and pushed ever so slightly.
I put the key into my pocket for safe-keeping, I would place it back when I left. My footsteps were muffled by the thick soles of my boots, and a burst of adrenalin ran through me. I needed answers. I walked around the foyer wall and into the vast space that made Mitchell’s home so Mitchell. I knew what I would see before I saw it. Desire swelled in me, in my core, at seeing the pristine body of Mitchell punching his heart out.
I stopped just to take him in. Time stood still and I committed this to memory before this whole fairytale ended.
His muscles bunched with each steely strike. His tattoos blurred around his sexy arms as he moved, his strong legs bounced him around on bare feet. I could watch him forever. His back was all glistening and shiny with sweat. I bit my lip as my body responded, tingling back to life in all the places that had missed him. His hands were without gloves, yet he smacked the shit out of that bag like his life depended on it.
He was beautiful and broken and just as damaged as me. Maybe that was really why I had to come here; to heal the something in him, the part that I didn’t know about but that made him the man I loved anyway.
So now what? Do I just waltz up behind him and tap him on the shoulder? He was liable to knock me off my feet. Or stand here until he was done fucking over that bag? Both options were unappealing. Silence filled the room like white noise.
>
Mitchell whirled on his feet. He was braced, with both hands in the fighter’s position, protecting his face and ready to swing out—until he saw me. His hands lowered. Shock stiffening his spine and a cold glare masking his eyes. My mettle faltered as if he’d shot me in the chest, a bullet to my heart, but there was no bullet and no backing down right now, so instead I choose to match my anger to his.
He didn’t come near me, just stood there. The wide expanse of his chest heaved up and down from his exertion. Or was it the anger building, ready to explode into me? I should be afraid. If it were anyone else looking at me like this I would have run. Stupid me chooses to stay and stand my ground, like we were at war.
I felt the key in my pocket. The steel was burning my leg, reminding me that I was uninvited and looking at Mitchell’s face, unwelcome. I tugged the key out of its snug pocket and dropped it on the table. I didn’t want it. Mitchell’s eyes followed my movements and landed on the key.
“You’re resourceful, Eden.” His words were deep and etched their way over every part of me that wanted him. The effect was instant; my desire hadn’t lessened. If anything, it had spiked. I needed to keep myself in check. I lifted my chin, my defiant stance I used when mulling over a business deal. I always came out on top. I pouted my lips unintentionally and pulled a breath in through my nose, my determination to get this over with unyielding.
“When I need to be.” There was still that electricity that pulled us together. If I felt it surely he did too, but the tension between us was solid.
“What are you doing here?”His reply was cold, detached and to the point, like we were strangers. There was no feeling.
“That’s a bullshit question,” I spat back and paused before I walked over to him. With each slow step I took I felt a crackle of power. I knew I affected him because by now his
breathing should have calmed. Instead his hands clenched and folded over his chest, like he needed to stop them for reaching for me.
“I asked you for some time; you gave it to me . . .” He paused and looked more pained than angry. “I’m not ready yet.”
I almost caved. I had no pride when it came to Mitch, he was my everything and right now I was about to leave with nothing, just a black hollow space where my heart used to live.
“I’m done waiting Mitch.” My steely resolve quivering for a moment, stopping so close to him that I could smell his sweat and bodywash was a detriment to my need for him. He was my drug and I wanted so desperately. Memories came flooding back to me, just little snippets of beautiful times we’d shared. “If you didn’t want me anymore why not just tell me, instead of making up this story? Was it to let me down easy? I would have respected you more if you’d just told me we are over, instead of disappearing from my life, Mitch.”
“Let me go with some dignity, and not this waiting and wondering. I need to get my life back instead of every thought being of you, if you are OK, in trouble or with another; I can’t do this. So I’m letting you go. I don’t want you anymore. You’re bad for my health, my sanity.” I paused, longing for his words to still me, stop me. But they never came.
His lips opened and shut, but the words never came. My future might be lonely but it wouldn’t be bleak. Not anymore, and I owed part of that to Mitchell. “Thank you for always being you. I actually don’t regret a single day.” I reached out and touched his bottom lip with my finger. I just needed to taste him one more time, feel that white-hot heat that consumed me when we touched. Fuck, I wanted him like fresh air, like the ocean on a hot day, like the stars that lit the sky at night.
“Don’t say that. I’m not worth it. I’m bad for you, Eden, of that you’re right. I can’t fuck you up any more than I already have; I won’t.” And I felt the break in my heart when his features twisted painfully. He grabbed my wrists tightly and stepped back from me, keeping me at a distance, like I’d burnt him.
My eyes blazed with hot tears, but my rage overpowered it. My heart was splintering into a million pieces with each word he spoke. I’d never cared about the bad; oh, he was a bad boy, but that was purely sexual—there was nothing bad in him. I refused to believe it. He was still making excuses and I wasn’t willing to let him go yet. I wanted to fight for him, for us.
I was furious at his lack of feeling. He needed to be held accountable for what he’d done to me. Expletives left my lips, my fists met his chest and I ragged on him like my own personal punching bag, but the more I pummeled his chest the worse I felt. “Damn you. W-Why did you h-have to come and save me. I didn’t need you. And now I’m in love with an asshole.” I couldn’t see past the tears and hit out in his general direction. He’d finally driven me to insanity. “Fight, damn it, fight for us—for me. I would have done it for you.” I choked out the words in a mess of emotion.
Mitchell overpowered me and forcibly held my arms by my sides. He hushed me, uttering little words like stop and that’s enough and fucking hell, Eden, you’re strong. And when I couldn’t find the strength any more I did stop. I was in the only place I wanted to be with a man that didn’t want me. I relished his arms around me. Like the junkie addict I was, I wanted to stay there and remember every detail of it for later, my delicious torture.
I summoned all the strength within me. There wasn’t much left. I forced him away from me, disengaging myself from his arms. I was on automatic pilot; it felt foreign to withdraw when all I wanted was to lose myself, my clothing, any inhibitions I still had left and just stay.
I cleared the hair from my face and wiped at the wetness on my cheeks. I was sure I looked like a hot mess, and this was the awesome visual I was leaving with Mitchell, but none of it mattered now.
“Good-bye, Mitch.” I worked the whispered words around the lump in my throat. I couldn’t wait to crumble in my bed.
I didn’t notice the softness in his eyes until I was turning away from him and running for the door. I didn’t hear the desperation in his voice as he called my name. I didn’t even hear the footsteps that came after me. I did, however, feel the warm hand close around my leathered arm and spin me so fast it made my head dizzy.
“Wait.” Mitchell was breathing hard. He must have seen the fear in my eyes because he loosened his grip. I was speechless. I was so done; in my head we were over. I didn’t understand what I was supposed to wait for. It was my brain that didn’t believe it yet, my body had other ideas. “You love me.” His statement feathered across blissful lips. His face was closer to mine than I wanted it to be, and his warmth intched over my skin like a wildfire. Mitchell’s eyes beseeched mine. The way he was touching me, with his arm around my back and his hand wiping the tears off my cheek. Did he really care now? Wasn’t it a little too late? “Come with me.”
“I’m leaving.” My voice was devoid of emotion.
“Please come with me.”
“Let me go, Mitchell. Your manners mean nothing.” I struggled in his arms. His touch was like an inferno. I didn’t want it anymore.
“Eden, you love me.” He responded quickly. Like I needed a reminder.
“I take it back,” I whispered, dejected. How could he be so calm? Falling in love with Mitchell was not part of my master plan. I’d just wanted to have a good time, and act young and carefree. Instead, he’d stolen my heart and stomped on in like it didn’t mean a thing.
“I heard you say it; there’s no taking it back. Damn it Eden, you’re not leaving me.” The tenderness with which he spoke unnerved me. He was killing me softly. I couldn’t make sense of what had changed in him. The deep affliction in his voice cut me down. I was a ball of emotions and on the verge of cracking, falling off the edge and never finding myself again.
“It’s over. Let me be, please . . .” I was begging him to let me go now. “I can’t do this any more; it’s too much. You’re too much.” I couldn’t even look into his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Eden, for everything, but I just can’t let you go.”
Without warning he flung me up in his arms, as if I weighed no
thing. My attempt at resistance was ridiculous; it didn’t matter how much I pushed him away or lashed out with my tongue, it bounced off him. He walked casually up the stairs to his room, past his made bed and into the bathroom. The fight left me; I was just a hollow lump as he placed me carefully on the tiles.
“We need to talk about all this shit that’s going on, Eden, but first I want you to have a shower with me. I would have one on my own, but I don’t trust you to stay.” His legs were apart so that we were on eye level, and his were the most breathtaking sight I’d ever seen. His green eyes were no longer dark and stormy, more hopeful and bright, and looking at me with warmth. Like he wanted me again. “Let me love you, Eden, the same way you love me,” he pleaded.
I wasn’t sure I’d heard correctly; nothing was right about my head at the moment. Did he love me? I was still numb; you couldn’t push someone away, distance yourself like Mitchell had to me, and then believe them when they said lovely words like “let me love you.” Life wasn’t that simple.
“You don’t believe me, do you?”
I shook my head. “It’s OK, baby, I plan on making you believe it. If you let me.”
I forced my jaw to work around the words swimming in my head. “You’re giving me whiplash, Mitch. I don’t know which was is up with you.” My voice is hoarse from yelling and crying. It doesn’t sound like me. I feel like I’m on the outside looking in. That Mitchell surely doesn’t love me. If I step into the shower with him and let him touch me, let him love me, then he pulls this shit again, I will surely never ever come back from it. But life is about taking chances, right? If I never take that risk I could miss out on something wonderful. I know I’m going to jump; I’ve already fallen, I might as well go for broke. There are no safety nets. I would just tiptoe over that tightrope and pray I made it to the other side.
“Shower. I promise not to touch you, unless it’s what you want.”
I took Mitchell’s outstretched hand and I heard the breath rush out of him, like he was holding it, waiting for me to answer. I let him strip my jacket off me. He hung it up on a hook behind the door. He unbuttoned my jeans and pulled the zipper down. He picked me up and sat me down on the cold bathroom vanity. I didn’t really feel it. My gaze was too intent on watching his slow and deliberate movements, his arms wrapped around me, is face is near my neck. I felt his fingers tangle into my hair, pulling out the tie that secured it. Once my hair tumbled down my back, I heard Mitchell’s strangled groan as he inhaled me. “I missed you, Eden, you have no fucking idea.”
