by Cassie Cross
“I think this went really well,” she says, pushing up onto her tiptoes to grab a string of lights off the DJ stand.
“It did,” I reply, grinning down at her as I reach over and get the lights for her. “You did amazing.”
She blushes. “I couldn’t have done it without you.” She’s smiling, and so happy. Completely light. I love seeing her this way.
“Can I kiss you?” I ask, leaning in closer. Only the cleaning crew is around, but I ask just to be sure. “I don’t want to be unprofessional in front of your employees, but I can’t wait much longer.”
“Hmmmm,” she hums with a playful grin, taking her time like she’s considering my question. She bites her lip—that’s gonna be the death of me—then tilts her chin and presses her lips against mine.
It’s soft and sweet, but she slides her hand up my chest, and mine gets caught in her hair, and things get a little too heated very quickly.
She breaks away, breathless. She smiles as I hand her the lights, then twirls them around her arm.
“Can you get the rest of these strings while I run some stuff out to my car?” she asks, pointing at the other strings of lights still hanging.
There’s only about 5 or 6. I can make quick work of it.
“Anything that gets us out of here and into bed quicker,” I tease, reaching for the ladder that’s leaning against the wall.
She waggles her eyebrows, then picks up a few bags and heads to the back.
I make quick work of the lights, and when I notice the time—it’s taken me 10 minutes—I’m surprised Alexa hasn’t come back in yet.
I head into the kitchen, thinking I’ll find her munching on the hors d’oeuvres she couldn’t keep her hands off of when the party was getting set up.
Nothing.
I catch a guy whose name is Stuart—I think. I’ve seen him around a few times tonight, but we’ve barely spoken. He’s scrubbing down these giant metal prep tables in the middle of the kitchen. “Hey, have you seen Alexa?”
“She went out that way,” he says, nodding toward the open door that leads out the back of the building, into the alley where Alexa parked her car.
I head out and see her hatch is wide open. I figure she’s in the front fiddling with something, and I make my way around the vehicle.
There, just beyond the hood and in the shadows, a man has his arms caged around her. She’s shrinking back against the wall, terrified.
I don’t even think, I just move.
17
Alexa
My heart feels like it’s taken up permanent residence in my throat, my pulse beating, beating as I try desperately to swallow it down. I’m doing my best to think about this logically, to remember the self-defense classes I took that I hoped I’d never need. Panic is fogging my brain, and it’s like my brain is on overload.
This man is pressing his body against mine, and I want to be anywhere but here. I don’t know if I should scream, if there’s anyone close enough to hear me, if it would do anything other than make this man incredibly angry.
He’s breathing down my neck, and I keep telling him that my boyfriend is inside and could come out any second, but that only seems to encourage him. It’s almost like it’s a turn-on, that he’s getting what someone else has.
Should I stomp on his insole now, or wait for a better time? I don’t have a whole lot of room to move here, and his arms are caged around me to the point that I don’t know if I could make a clean break for it.
I’m about to take my chances when I see Jesse out of the corner of my eye. I want to look at him, to scream at him for help, but the knowledge that he’s here is enough to center me through my panic.
All I have to do is stay calm for a few more seconds, he’ll take this guy by surprise, and it’ll all be over.
Jesse won’t let anything happen to me.
He moves quicker than I could’ve imagined, grabbing the guy by the collar of his shirt and tossing him on the ground. There’s a minor struggle—the guy manages to get a couple of hits in—but Jesse quickly fires back. I stand stock still against the wall for the first few seconds, unsure of what I should do.
It’s not like I can jump in the scrum and help, distracting Jesse is probably the worst thing I could do right now.
So, I run inside and yell for Jesse’s guys. They follow after me, then two of them pull Jesse off the guy who touched me while another one subdues him.
The guy has a busted lip, what’s definitely going to be a shiner, and who knows what else. Jesse’s knuckles are all scraped and bloody. I reach out for him, but he turns away quickly and takes a few deep breaths.
When he turns back around, he looks a little less like someone in private security and a little more like the guy I’m falling in love with.
He asks me if I’m okay.
I nod.
There’s a dangerous look in his eyes, one I know he’s desperately trying to get a handle on.
“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he tells me, pulling me against him. “I’ve got you, you’re safe.” He buries his face in my hair, and even though he’s so close, there’s something distant in his words.
It leaves me feeling almost as uneasy as the past ten minutes have.
I spend a long time on the phone with Hayley when I get back, who’s freaked out because one of the guys on Jesse’s team called Hunter and let him know there was an incident. It’s early in the morning in Bali, and I have to talk her into not hopping on the first plane back to the states.
I promise her over and over again that I’m not freaked out (a minor lie, but close enough to the truth) and that I want her to keep enjoying her honeymoon (totally true). After ten minutes of reassurance, she finally agrees to hang up.
Exhausted, I take off my clothes, slip on one of Jesse’s t-shirts, and wash my face. When I walk out of the bedroom and Jesse isn’t in bed, I find him sitting on the couch, staring at his hands.
He’s been great all night. He sat beside me as I filled out a police report and held my hand as he drove us back to my place. He’s been hovering, but now he seems a little lost.
“Are you coming to bed?” I ask.
He shakes his head, then turns just enough so that he can see me without having to look right at me. I can practically see the wall he’s building between us.
“I’m going to stay out here tonight.”
The words are like a punch to the gut. After what he told me about his job making him feel like he doesn’t deserve good things, I suppose I should’ve expected this tonight, after he’d beaten the hell out of a guy who put his hands on me when I said no.
I thanked him for that, kissed his cracked knuckles after I cleaned them, and still he looks like he’s disgusted with himself.
There’s no getting through to him.
This is why I was afraid of getting involved with him. Barely a week after we got together, it’s already happening.
I’m not sure how far I should push him now, or even if I should. “Are you sure?” I ask, trying to keep my voice light. I don’t want him second-guessing anything he had to do to keep me safe. “There’s plenty of room, and I wouldn’t mind having a big spoon tonight.”
Normally he’d smile, but tonight? Nothing.
I swallow past the painful lump in my throat because even though we’ve only been together for such a short time, that time has been amazing. We could be amazing if he could just get past whatever it is that’s holding him back. It seems foolish now that I didn’t think about this being an issue again.
If he runs now, maybe it’s better if we just end it. I don’t want to spend my life waiting for the other shoe to drop.
He doesn’t answer me. “Jesse?”
“I’m sure,” he says with a nod. “I’m just gonna stay out here. You’re safe.”
“I know that,” I reply, reaching over and running my nails along the nape of his neck the way he likes. “You make me feel safe.”
He pulls away, and I wish I would’ve jus
t kept my mouth shut.
I sigh. “Door’s open if you change your mind.”
He won’t change his mind. In fact, I’ll be surprised if he’s still here in the morning. I fully expect to wake up to an empty apartment and a quickly written note.
Tears spring into my eyes. Damn it. We’re good together, and I don’t understand why that isn’t enough.
“Jesse, do you want to talk about it?”
The silence stretches. “Goodnight,” is all he says.
I wake up to an impeccably fluffed couch and a fresh pot of coffee.
There’s a note stuck to the refrigerator handle.
Left for work.
-J
I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it was…something better than this.
The sadness I felt last night is completely wiped out by a white-hot anger that rips through me.
I ball up the note and throw it in the trash.
18
Jesse
I spend a ridiculous amount of time at the gym to make up for the fact that I’m not seeing Alexa. It’s a poor substitute, but otherwise I’d just be sitting at home, pissed at myself. I know I hurt her again, and I hate myself for it. I just don’t know how to get past the disgust I felt when I held her with someone else’s blood drying on my hands.
I still manage to make it out to happy hours with Carlos. I hate to admit it, but Hunter was right; it is nice having someone to talk to, to not hole myself up in my apartment when I’m not working. Regardless of whatever else is going on in my personal life, I don’t want to turn back into the guy Hunter took off of cases.
Still, I feel this unrelenting pull toward Alexa. I want to call her, figure out some way to make it right, but thinking I’ve fucked things up for good is better than knowing for sure. It’s the only thing that keeps me from picking up the phone twenty times a day.
I miss her so much it aches.
I shove my clothes into my duffel after a long, exhausting workout.
Hunter appears in the doorway as I’m towel-drying my hair. The team is going out to celebrate a huge new contract that Hunter reeled in, doing security for a new movie that starts shooting downtown in a few weeks.
Hunter has this shit-eating grin on his face non-stop now, which is probably one of the benefits to still being in your honeymoon phase.
It irritates me.
“You coming with us?” he asks, like he’s daring me to say no. The challenge in his voice makes me want to.
“Yeah.”
Hunter smiles. “I’m glad. It wouldn’t look good if you didn’t show up to the party when you’re leading the team.”
Wait…what?
“I’m…” I’m speechless is what I am.
“Yeah. Team lead.” He steps in and claps me on the shoulder. “I know you’ve been working on what we talked about, and I wanted you to know that it hasn’t gone unnoticed. I’ve seen you with the new guys, mentoring them, showing them the ins and outs. You’ve gotten out of your own head, which is what I’ve been trying to get you to do for a while now.”
“Thanks,” I tell him, glad that he’s noticing that after my initial stubbornness, I have been serious about doing what he’s asked of me.
Hunter nods.
He’s still giving me this appraising look, like there’s more he wants to say but he’s waiting for me to ask. I figure Hayley’s filled him in on what’s going on (or…not going on) between me and Alexa, and he wants to give me a piece of his mind on hurting his wife’s best friend.
“I guess I’m in for a lecture?” I say, tossing the towel in the hamper.
“What would I lecture you about?”
“C’mon,” I say, not really wanting to bring this up, but desperate to get it out of the way because I know it’s coming. “Surely your wife has filled you in.”
He laughs. “She has. And there are no lectures here.”
I narrow my eyes, not believing him.
He holds up his hands. “Seriously. What was it you said to me last year? That there are clients who stick?”
Yeah, I’d said that. Sometimes a client comes around that you can’t get out of your mind once the job is done. A five year-old who thanks you for saving her father, a woman whose husband is home safe because you were willing to put your body on the line to keep him breathing. Then there’s Alexa, who was in a class all by herself. A person I felt an instant connection with, a connection that I’d wanted to keep, that I’d been unable to shake no matter how hard I tried.
I still can’t.
Hunter continues. “The ones like Alexa and Hayley are the worst, because you look at them and think…this could be it for me. The rest of your life is scary, and I get it. I know you struggle with what we do here, and you have to deal with your own shit on your own terms. I didn’t take you off of the quote/unquote big cases so you’d get a girlfriend. I took you off so you’d get a life. I thought if the jobs weren’t as appealing, you’d stop working yourself to death. And you did get a life, no matter who you do or don’t share it with. So, no lectures.”
I take a deep breath. “Thanks.”
“A bit of advice that is in no way a lecture though?”
I knew it was too good to be true. “Sure.”
“There’s a price to be paid so that people can sleep soundly at night. That’s why this business exists. We’re willing to pay that price, or else we wouldn’t be here. It’s hard, doing what has to be done, but we do it the right way. If someone’s in danger, I want to be there, I want to be the one handling it. Whether it’s Hayley or anyone else who needs help. I know you feel the same way, and that’s why we do what we do. There’s no shame in it, Jesse.”
I look down at my still-healing knuckles, trying to make myself absorb what he says. My life would be so much easier if I could just get this through my thick skull.
“I’ll take that under advisement.”
“Good,” he replies with a smile. “C’mon. I’ll let you buy me a beer.”
“Wanna know what I think about this whole Alexa situation?” Carlos asks with one eye squinted shut as he aims his dart. We’re hanging out in his basement, and the football game that’s on in the background is a complete rout.
“No,” I say, leaning against his pool table. “But I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”
“That shit you tell yourself about not deserving love because of what you do?” He puts air quotes around deserving, annoying me already.
“What about it?”
“It’s bullshit you use as an excuse because you’re scared.”
Hunter said something similar the other night. “Scared of what?”
“Commitment. Love. Whatever. I’ve known you for five years and you’ve always kept things casual. I see a girl once and then I never see her again.”
Feeling defensive, I say, “You aren’t exactly reeling them in.”
Carlos lets the dart fly, nicking a hole in his drywall. Serves him right.
“You threw me off my game. You’re patching it up,” he says, giving me a dirty look.
I shrug.
“I might not be reeling them in, but the difference between me and you is that I try. I fail a lot, sure. But I try.”
I can’t help but laugh at the honesty. And after I stop laughing, I’m left wondering if Carlos is right. I think about all the girlfriends I’ve had throughout the years, and all of them were short term. The minute anyone wanted commitment from me, I felt suffocated and broke it off.
It’s different with Alexa. If anything, I want to be with her all the time, probably more than I should. I’ve wanted that since the moment I met her. She doesn’t make me feel suffocated, she just makes me happy.
I didn’t want to admit it the other night, but Hunter was right. I think she could be the rest of my life. For a guy who doesn’t have much to base forever on, its…
Terrifying.
Carlos snaps his fingers in front of my face.
“Hey,” he says loudly. �
�You look like you’ve had about ten revelations.”
I straighten up, pick up a dart and send it flying directly toward the bullseye.
Nailed it.
“Damn, I can’t even beat you when I drop some life truth on you. I’m right, aren’t I?”
I think he is, but I don’t want to give him the satisfaction yet. I walk over to the board and grab the darts. “Let’s play another round.”
“One more truth bomb.”
I look at him, then take a shot. I miss.
“You can’t keep jerking this girl around, man. If you really don’t want her, leave it be. If you do want her, this is the last time you can run…if she’ll even take you back now.
Alexa and I aren’t together right now, and that was my choice. But the thought that I might’ve fucked it up for good makes my chest ache.
“Take the shot,” I say, nodding toward the board.
I think I need to take a shot, too.
19
Alexa
With Jesse avoiding me at all costs, I throw myself into work. Focusing on my portfolio instead of how much I miss him—and how angry I am that he did this again—does wonders for my business. Marin lined up two presentations after the Buchanan party, and we manage to get both jobs.
Luckily I’m not thrown together with Jesse again. In that way, the fates are kind to me.
I think about him often. And yeah, maybe I hang onto the old t-shirt he left at my apartment when he walked out the door for the last time. There’s a comforting smell associated with it that makes me bury my face in the fabric when I have a hard time sleeping. I’m not proud.
