IMPULSE: Companion to The PULSE Series

by Deborah Bladon

  "Jessica." I scoop my arm around her waist, catching her mid fall. "Jessica, please."

  She doesn't speak. I don't know if it's because she's unwilling or if the weight of the air between us is holding her back. She raises her hand to shield her face. Her sobs overtake her. I hold her close, wishing I hadn't thrown that at her the way I did. She's fragile. She's always been too fragile for her own good.

  "You should sit down." I scoop her up in my arms in one easy movement and carry her into the room. Her arms hang limp at her sides. Her eyes are staring a path straight through me. I place her down carefully on the couch.

  "I'm sorry." The words escape her lips in such a quiet tone that I have to strain to make out each word. "I'm sorry," she repeats, this time no louder than the last.

  I kneel in front of her. Any resistance that she was holding onto at the door has evaporated. She's broken and weak. She's rocking back and forth on the cushion, the rhythmic movement of her body making a sliding sound on the leather. It's the only sound invading the unending silence in the room.

  "I'm sorry." The words are still so soft that I have to strain to hear them.

  "Jessica." I place my hands on her knees. She doesn't pull back. "Jessica. I'm sorry too."

  I expect her eyes to dart to mine for confirmation of the words but that doesn't happen. Instead, she pulls her head closer to her chest.

  "Please look at me," I coax. I'm scared. I've pushed her into emotional places in the past but it's never been this way. She's never shut down so completely on me before. I regret bringing him up the way I did. I regret not asking about him right after the wedding, when she was so happy, open and composed.

  "No," she says through a sob. "I can't."

  I want to grab her shoulders and shake her. I want her to come back to me and talk about this. I want her to hold my face in her hands and tell me that she's overreacting and that all of it is just a simple misunderstanding. "I need you to listen to me, Jessica."

  Her head darts up. I watch as her eyelids slowly open. She stares at my face, her eyes sweeping across my forehead, before settling on my mouth. "Please, Nathan." Her hand dashes from her leg to my arm. "Please."

  "I'm not going anywhere." I reach forward to run my lips over her cheek. "I'm staying right here." I know I mean it right now. If she tells me she's been fucking the guy who was at Axel, I can't promise her anything.

  She nods. Her hand moves up my arm. "Who told you?"

  I pull her hand into my own and graze it across my lips. "I was talking to a woman at the wedding. Her name was Charity. She told me you were involved with a senator."

  "Charity," she repeats the name as she stares past me to the wall. "Who is Charity?"

  I can't say I'm surprised that she doesn’t remember the woman. She was completely forgettable. "She looks like a librarian." I have no other point of reference so that's what pops out. "She said you went to school together."

  Her brow furrows. "Does she have brown hair and glasses?"

  "No glasses." I shake my head from side-to-side. "She has short brown hair."

  The edge of her lip quivers slightly. "I think I remember her. What did she say to you?"

  I decide that this moment calls for me to temper my unending need to tell Jessica everything. She doesn’t want to hear about how Charity wanted to ride my dick in the back seat of her Cadillac. "She mentioned that you used to be involved with a man who was in the senate." It's a foreign statement, even now when I've had time to process the information. I'm not about to tell Jessica that after she went to sleep the first night we got back to New York that I spent hours online trying to decipher what senator Charity was talking about. I came up empty handed.

  Her hand leaves my arm and jumps to her face. She rubs it across her eyes. "It was so long ago."

  I feel instantly relieved. "Charity said it happened right after high school."

  "That's when it started." It's a subtle correction but it's open ended. "I met him after high school."

  I have so many questions floating from every corner of my mind at once. They're colliding. My senses are overwhelmed. "When did it end?"

  "It was over before I met Josh."

  I don't need the reminder of her ex-boyfriend. Hell, I don't want to talk about any of this. I want her to go back to being the Jessica Roth I seduced at the club that night I first laid eyes on her. I was the one who seduced her, right? She wasn't preying on me, was she?

  "When's the last time you saw him?" It's a selfish question. I'm not asking because I want to give her an opportunity to cleanse her soul. I'm asking because I want to know when the last time the fucking senator drove his cock into my beautiful Jessica's tender body.

  "Today."

  Chapter 10

  I recoil on my heels. My hands leap from her body at the same time. Fuck. She just fucking said she saw the goddamned senator today.

  "Nathan?" Nothing follows my name. What the fuck kind of question is that?

  "What?" I'm on my feet now. I can't breathe. I blindly reach for my tie, pulling on the knot. I throw it beside her on the couch once I get it free. I still can't get enough air in my lungs. I rip open the first two buttons of the white dress shirt I'm wearing. They tumble silently to the hardwood floor.

  "I didn't do anything." It's weak. It's so goddamned weak that I don't fucking believe it.

  I turn so my back is to her. I can't look at her right now. My anger is right there. It's right at the surface and if I don't temper it, I'm going to say things that I'll never be able to take back. They're the things she said to me back when she discovered a cell phone I had filled with the names of hundreds of women I'd fucked. How the hell did she get over that? I can't even think straight right now. "What the fuck does that mean?"

  "I didn't sleep with him…" The pause does little to control my ever growing rage. "Not today, I didn’t sleep with him today."

  "Today?" I hurl the word at her as I turn back around. My hands are on my cufflinks now, pulling thoughtlessly at them. I'm overheating. The room suddenly feels like it's the middle of summer and I'm standing in my suit on a crowded street. "You didn't fuck the senator today?"

  "Thomas," she counters. "I didn’t fuck Thomas today."

  Thomas. He has a fucking name. Of course he does. She didn't let that detail escape without reason. Why the hell is she making this more personal? I don't want to know his name. I don't want to know anything about him.

  "He was at the wedding." She nods as if she's reminding herself of the fact. "He was at Julie's wedding."

  I roll up the arms of my shirt. The act not just meant to help me cool down physically, but emotionally as well. I was so focused on keeping her away from Josh Redmond, that piece of shit ex-boyfriend of hers, that I didn't even notice that another man she fucked was in the room. "Did you talk to him?"

  She nods quickly. "I did. It was only for a minute."

  "Where the fuck was I?" I ask, knowing that it sounds territorial. It's who I am though. I'm not going to hide behind a veil of something I'm not to appease her right now. I can't believe she talked to him that night and today. All of this is spurring on my own desire to bolt.

  "I don't know," she tosses the words back effortlessly. "You were talking to a lot of different people that night."

  Women. It's what she wants to say. I was talking to a lot of women. The majority of them were related to Jessica in some way. I spent a good portion of that night trying to dodge her mother's overly zealous hands. I also spent more than an hour listening to her grandmother and aunt tell me stories about Jessica as a little girl. Who knew that while I was tripping down memory lane with her relatives that she was reacquainting herself with an ex-lover? "I was getting to know your family," I hiss the words out slowly. "I was trying to become part of your family." My index finger darts in her direction.

  I can't tell if the words register or not. She's stoic. "It meant nothing, Nathan."

  "What meant nothing?" I take a heavy step towards her as the
words leave me. "Talking to him that night meant nothing? Or talking to him today?"

  "He's a part of my past." It's a diversion. She's avoiding the question.

  I push my hand through my hair in exasperation. "At that fucking door…" My hand juts to the right towards the apartment door. "At that door when I brought him up you practically fainted. What the fuck was that about?"

  "I came home to tell you." She pulls her gaze down to the floor. "I wanted to tell you since the wedding."

  "Why didn't you?"

  "I knew you'd react," she begins before looking directly at me. "I knew you'd react like this."

  She's right. How am I supposed to argue a point that is so blatantly correct? I always flip out over Jessica and other men. My blood boils whenever I see a guy checking her out on the street. I almost physically lose it if I hear anyone trying to pick her up. It's no fucking surprise that she'd try to shield both of us from that.

  "You always pitch a fit about me and other men." She shrugs her shoulders. "Thomas and I haven't seen each other in years. I was surprised at the wedding. I didn't want to ruin our night."

  Our night? That was the night she wanted to fuck me senseless in the elevator. It was the night she took my cock in her mouth the minute we were back in our hotel room. She couldn’t keep her greedy hands off of me. "Did you blow me that night because you were thinking about him?" I regret the words the instant they leave my lips. They're meant to hurt her. Their intention isn't shrouded in anything. They're hot, piercing and they make a direct hit.

  Her mouth falls open. She slowly stands. She reaches to the arm of the couch for balance. I wait for her to walk towards me, half expecting her to scream a litany of curse words at me. She stops right in front of me.

  "Christ, Jessica." I reach towards her. "I didn't mean that. I fucking didn't mean any of that."

  She takes a small step back, so she's just out of my reach. Her hand juts into the air between us. "I have nowhere else to go." Tears stream down her face now. "I'm going to sleep in the guest room."

  "No." I move to grab her elbow to stall her. I can't let her walk out of this room. I don't want her to think constantly about my spiteful, petty words as she tries to drift off to sleep. "Listen to me, Jessica."

  She rips her arm from my grasp. "There's nothing left to say, Nathan. Nothing."

  I don't try and stop her. I only stand with my regret as she walks down the hallway.

  Chapter 11

  "Thomas Lane is your girlfriend's ex? Governor Lane?" Garrett can't hide his amusement at the statement. "When the fuck did that happen? Didn't she just graduate from high school?"

  Jessica's age has always been fodder for Garrett's incessant joking about her. I've known him since law school. I know him well enough to realize that he's incapable of being serious when it comes to her. That's because he's so fucking jealous that I'm with her and he's still alone. "Shut the hell up," I bark across my desk at him. "You know she's not that young. It happened when he was still a senator."

  "How did you find out?" His tone shifts. It's actually more serious which is saying a lot for him. "When did you find out?"

  "Last night." I pinch my index finger and thumb across my nose. "I railed on her about skipping work when she got home and somehow we ended up talking about that shit head."

  "Shit head?" He cocks a brow. "Governor Lane is responsible for a lot of the positive change in Connecticut."

  He sounds like a goddamned campaign commercial. I won't be surprised if he puts a pin on my lapel with the Governor's face on it. I can't stand his face. After Jessica went into hiding in the guest room, I did another search for senators in Connecticut named Thomas. It took all of a split second before his smiling face was staring right back at me. As much as I hate to admit it, Sasha was right; the Governor is easy on the eyes. I could instantly see why Jessica would have fallen for him.

  "I don't care about him." It sounds petulant and juvenile. "I care about Jessica."

  "So she used to bang him back in the day." He leans back in the chair. "You're no angel, Nate."

  I don't need the reminder. I've been playing that argument in my mind since Jessica walked out of the room. I don't have a right to be angry. I can't even remember the majority of women I've fucked. Why the hell am I letting this get so far under my skin? She fucked some guy years ago and now he's back sniffing around her. Who can blame him? "I know," I acquiesce.

  "Why do you even care?" He crosses his right leg over the right. "It happened a long time ago, right?"

  I nod. I'm hoping it was a long time ago. The only grain of faith Jessica threw my way last night was that she hadn't fucked him yesterday. My logical mind is telling me that he hasn't been inside of her in years. My childish, jealous and petty mind is telling me that he's on the chase right now, trying to get that sweet, tight, little body of hers back in his bed. "It was years ago."

  "That makes sense. I mean he's married now."

  My head bolts up. Why didn't I read the articles last night instead of just staring at the guy's picture? "He's married?"

  Garrett cocks a brow. "How do you not know any of this?"

  "How long has he been married?" Maybe his interest in Jessica is nothing more than a quick jaunt down memory lane. Maybe he's in New York on something unrelated to her and he tracked her down at Axel.

  "I don't know." He shrugs his shoulders. "He and his wife have a couple of kids."

  That information only adds to my relief. There's no way in hell Jessica would get herself wrapped up in a relationship with a married man. I feel like shit. I feel like an ass for getting on her case about some guy she banged when she was a teenager. "I need to get some flowers." I reach for the phone on my desk.

  "By the sounds of it…" Garrett dips his chin in the direction of the phone. "You should probably order every bouquet they have."

  ***

  "I liked the flowers." Her head doesn’t move as the words leave her lips. She hasn’t glanced in my direction since I sat down next to her on this bench in Central Park. "I left them at the restaurant. I'll pick them up on my way home."

  "I stopped by there to see you." I inch closer. "I didn't know you were on the early shift today." It's true. I had no idea what shift she was working. When I knocked softly on the guest room door early this morning there was no answer. I didn’t press. I wasn't going to push her into a place where she would completely shut down on me.

  She nods, her gaze still cast forward. "I just needed some time to cool down."

  It's more than she would have given me a few months ago. I take it. I fucking embrace it. "I was out of line, Jessica."

  "You were an asshole." The corner of her mouth snaps up in a small grin. She offers me the soft baked pretzel she's holding in her hand.

  I pull off a piece before popping it into my mouth. I knew she'd be here the moment the head chef at the restaurant told me her shift was done. It's the place she always comes to when she needs to think. "You're right." I pull off another piece. "I'm fucking starving."

  "You always say that." Her head turns towards me. "You eat a lot."

  "Lucky for me you're an amazing chef." My tone is light and cheerful. I'm not trying to mask the depth of what happened last night. I'm trying to find a spot where she'll let me back in. I want her to know that I didn't fucking mean what I said.

  She reaches up to scratch her fingers along the side of her face. "I wish you would have been my first."

  The words tear through me with more strength than I can bear. My heart jumps in my chest. I have to pull my finger across my brow to temper the heavy onslaught of emotions I'm feeling. "Jessica."

  "You don't have to say you wish I was your first." She bites her bottom lip. "I'm not looking for that."

  I know she's not. I also know that she's well aware that if I could change anything about my past, before I met her, I would. I was aimlessly searching for something within all those women. Every encounter I had was more vacant and empty than the one before i
t. I was on autopilot, fucking a new woman almost every week, just to satiate the empty pit that was inside of me. It only grew larger until Jessica walked into the club. "I know, Jessica," I say the words to quiet my own emotions. I know she accepts me exactly as I am. She's overlooked so much bullshit for me. Why the fuck am I making such a huge deal over a man she slept with so long ago?

  "Sasha told me she talked to you about him." She hands me the remaining piece of pretzel. "She told you that I kissed Thomas."

  I nod. "She did."

  "That’s not what happened." She sighs heavily. "He kissed me when I walked out of the kitchen. I thought you were there to see me."

  "Me?"

  "Sasha came to the back and said that a gorgeous man in a suit wanted to talk to me." Her hand taps my leg. "You're the only gorgeous man in a suit I want to talk to."

  I feel sudden elation at the words. I don't need confirmation that Jessica loves me. I see it every day when I wake up next to her. I feel it in her kiss and in the way she holds my hand. "I like being that guy. I want to always be that guy."

  "I made so many mistakes, Nathan." Her hand reaches for mine. "I wish I could redo parts of my life."

  I hold her hand tightly in mine as people rush past us, oblivious of the weight of the conversation we're having. "I have that same wish, Jessica. I think most people do."

  "Maybe." She glances at me. "It's different for me."

  "Why?" I squeeze her hand, encouraging her to let it out. I want her to confess. I want her to crack open and let everything out that she's been holding tightly to.

  "I was so young." She shakes her head. "I thought I knew everything about love back then."

  Love. It's the first time that word has popped up when she's been talking about Thomas. "Did you love him?"

  Her gaze catches mine for a brief moment. I see the confusion in her brow. She pushes her hair back from her face before she responds, "Who?"