Need You, Need Me (The Need Series Book 1)

by Lewis, Meghan

  He will radio to me to make sure I have a handle on the situation at hand, and if he sees I might have a problem, he will radio into my ear what I should do, or he will give me a heads up if he thinks a cheap shot is coming at me.

  It took me a while to get back to one hundred percent after being thrown. I went and saw my doctor just to be on the safe side when I was still hurting, if not worse than before. He said that I had a very bad hip bone bruise. Because it was bruised so badly, everything else was going to hurt just as bad because our hips are where everything starts.

  Wasn’t that just the highlight of my day.

  After some rest, taking it easy at home, and Paul making sure I had all the paperwork that I could do from my couch or bed, I was back to actual work in about two weeks. I still hurt, but nowhere near as badly. The bruises have faded to that ugly healing-yellowish color. It doesn’t really matter because getting someone to see me in my underwear or less has become nonexistent in my mind.

  I don’t want anyone because they will never be Kevin. I know I don’t have to say it, but I have been sleeping in the shirt that I snatched from his shelf. Every night, I cry myself to sleep while I have him wrapped around me, as much as I can for that little bit of time. That’s the hardest part of my day: When I have to keep myself from going completely fucking crazy.

  When I am at work, I feel better because my mind is occupied at all times, and because I won’t let my thoughts get the best of me. There is always something happening in these places that need some kind of attention. I have actually started going in before the bar or club opens just so I won’t sit at the house. Paul likes the change and likes to get me out of the house when he can. Our workouts and sparring sessions have been very easy the past couple of weeks due to the fact that, well, I was thrown from a horse, so we just kind of keep me loose and go through motions slowly, so I don’t forget.

  Gotta love muscle memory.

  Yeah, so for the most part, everything has gone back to the way it was before I annihilated my own heart.

  Paul and Amber decided on just having a long-distance friendship, whatever the hell that is. He actually made me talk to her on the phone, so I could listen to her say how sorry she was. I played along, of course for Paul, but I could not give two shits. I have texted Rose back and forth, and we talk about once a week. She lets me know how Kevin is doing and always asks when I am coming back for a visit. I always tell her soon, but we both know it’s a lie. It would just be too hard.

  Rose sent me pictures of Kevin and his son together. Seeing the smile on the baby’s face makes me feel better. He looks just like Kevin. No paternity test necessary there. She even sent me a picture of Lucy, which is now my phone’s screensaver. I couldn’t forget that horse even if I tried.

  So with the occasional update and pictures, it hasn’t been so hard–It’s been worse, but I drag on, day after day knowing that I can’t just curl up in my room, in his shirt, and shut everything out.

  At some point, I am going to have to move on. It seems that Paul is going to help me do that very thing.

  He has set me up, reluctantly I might add, on a blind date. He was trying to explain it to me along the lines of how I have to get back on the horse. I, of course, just start laughing my ass off while he stands there, not knowing what to do after he realizes what he has just said to me, the person who was literally thrown off a horse. Jesus, that was funny. He eventually starts laughing too when he realizes I am not going to break down in tears. I laugh so hard that I have tears rolling down my face, not sad tears, for once, but happy tears because I am laughing so hard, I almost pee my pants. When we are finished with the laugh-fest and have composed ourselves, Paul goes back to telling me about the guy he has set me up with. Chad is a southern gentleman, whom he knows from fighting and is currently getting out a relationship too. I say “too” even though we were never together over a significant amount of time because it means I don’t have to go into detail about it.

  So here I am sitting at the restaurant that Paul told me to be at. “Look hot,” I believe were his exact words. I have shown up fifteen minutes early because I run on Lombardi time. I fidget with my silverware or the hem of my dress. I cross and uncross my legs I don’t know how many times. So, I say screw it and take out my phone to search the internet until he gets here. I hate pulling my phone out while I am out in a restaurant, but there is literally nothing else I can do at this point to keep from looking nervous. I smile at the picture of Lucy and unlock my phone. There is a text from Rose.

  Hm.

  I open it, and my mouth drops.

  Rose: I can’t believe you are out on a date right now, May!

  Uh . . . whoa!

  Me: I had to do something, Rose . . . and how the hell do you know that?

  Rose: Amber told me Paul set you up . . . Kevin is a fucking mess, you do know that, right? When he isn’t with his son, he’s back in his own shit world all over again, and you are on a fucking date?!?

  Me: Okay . . . You need to calm down first, and second, I have to start trying to move on. I can’t be with Kevin. I have faced that fact. Find some girls for him to grind on, and I am sure he will start to see that too.

  Ew, that was a low blow.

  Rose: He doesn’t want to see it . . . and he sure as shit doesn’t want you to see it either.

  Me: I don’t know what you want me to say, Rose.

  Rose: Say you love him, and you are going to move here to be with him.

  Me: This isn’t going to be a fairytale, Rose . . . I know you want it to be, but it’s not. Kevin hasn’t even sent me as much as a text since I left. He has my number . . . If he wanted to talk to me, he would have by now. It has been 2 months. I’m sorry.

  Rose: HE CAN’T! He doesn’t know what to say to you that he hasn’t already said. Christ, he proposed!!! What more proof do you need that he needs you and wants to be with you?

  A cough pulls my stare from my phone and falls on a blonde hair, blue eyed piece of tattooed meat.

  “May?” he asks cautiously.

  “Yes–” I stand up, “Chad?” I ask, sticking my hand out to shake his.

  He returns my handshake, and I watch as his eyes run down my body and then back up.

  Lovely. What an ass.

  Me: My date is here. I will talk to you later, Rose. I’m sorry, bye. xoxo

  “Everything okay?” Chad asks with his eyebrows raised.

  “Yes, everything is fine,” I say. I ignore the incoming call from Rose, turn my phone off, and slip it back into my purse.

  And enter the awkward silence.

  Thankfully, the waiter comes up and goes through her whole name, specials, and drinks speech.

  “I’ll have a Bud Light bottle with a shot of Crown, neat please,” I say, looking at my menu.

  “A girl after my own heart . . . I’ll have the same, please,” Chad says, opening his menu and smiling to himself.

  Did he just say that? OH, come ON!

  I squish the smile on my lips to the corner of my mouth and half hide behind my menu. I think Rose may have put a curse on me.

  “So you and Paul fight, huh? Each other or do you just know each other from around?” I ask, desperate for some kind of conversation other than the one Rose and I just had going through my head over and over and over again.

  “We’ve never fought each other, no. Different weight classes. He tells me you are one hell of a fighter. You have some work left to do, but still really good.”

  I roll my eyes. Paul would say that.

  “You know, I don’t find that intimidating at all. It’s kind of hot, being with a woman who knows how to take care of herself. Takes the pressure off the guy,” he continues on.

  Oh, I’m so glad for you.

  I need to stop, at least give him a chance, but I know deep down I don’t want to. Shit, this is going to be the longest dinner date ever.

  “You just got out of a relationship . . . mutual?” I ask, going back to looking at my menu
.

  “She moved a couple of states away, and as much as I loved her, I couldn’t bring myself to follow her. She said something about making the big gesture, and I couldn’t do it. I’m a beach guy, always have been, always will be.”

  Seriously?

  “Arrre you okay?” he asks me.

  I didn’t realize my menu fell down a little bit, and he can now see me staring at him with my mouth hanging open like an idiot.

  “Yeah, I’m sorry . . . Sorry, it didn’t work. How long ago was this?”

  “A couple of years,” he says, shrugging one shoulder

  “A couple of years? And you are just now dating?” I’m shocked and must know more.

  “Well, we were together for a while. We tried to do the long distance thing, but that never works, so she called it off . . . I have just gotten back to who I used to be. So I said why not start dating. Do you know what you are going to have?” he asks, closing his menu.

  “Yeah . . . Yeah, I know what I’m going to have.”

  Jesus Christ, May, get it fucking together, will you.

  We go about making small talk throughout the rest of dinner. He asks me about my job, my fights, and more about Paul. I ask him about his job, his fights, and just basic stuff to get to know each other. However, if the weather comes up anywhere in this discussion, I am leaving.

  We continue after our food arrives, but the tempo of the conversation has been slowed because of the all chewing. He tells me about the shark he saw when he was out surfing last weekend. That’s freaky. And then tells me about a horrible blind date that he went on a couple of nights ago, only after insisting he wasn’t talking about our date, which he thought was going very, very well.

  Really?

  He has yet to make eye contact with my actual eyes because he is too busy staring at the girls and my scar or rubbing his foot along my leg. I guess Paul has decided not to inform him of the fact that I can’t stand feet, let alone someone touching me with their feet.

  When we get back on the subject of relationships, I have officially tuned out and am now replaying the movie Boondock Saints in my head.

  “ . . . you want someone to say you need me like I need you, you know?”

  “I’m sorry, what?” I say, thinking I didn’t hear what I just did.

  “At the end of the day, you just want someone to stand there in front of you and say, ‘I need you like you need me’,” he repeats himself again.

  Oh . . . my . . . shit!

  I grab my purse and take out some cash–probably too much–and throw it on the table.

  “I’m sorry. I have to get out of here because you are driving me crazy and not in the way that you hope you are either,” I say, standing up. I give him a light, and I do mean light, almost air, kiss on his cheek and leave the restaurant.

  Driving home is wonderful. I am away from Chad, who was wearing entirely too much cologne. I had to wipe my nose constantly at dinner with my napkin. It’s all red, I notice when I look into the rearview mirror. Great. I pull into my cul-de-sac and see Paul sitting on the tailgate of his truck in my driveway. I swing around to park on the street in front of the house and walk over to him.

  “You alright?” he asks me before I can ask him. He takes a drink from his beer.

  “Yeah, I’m fine . . . are you?” I ask, hopping up next to him and taking his beer for a drink.

  “Jesus, May. No, you aren’t. I thought if I fixed you up on a date, you would realize that you don’t belong here anymore,” he confesses.

  “Um . . . what?” I say, lowering my eyebrows and pushing out a tight pout of my lips.

  “You know where you need to be. You know who you want. Christ at least you know . . . Some people go their whole lives without knowing who they want. And you are running fucking scared because you, for some reason, have it in your head that you are going to get hurt again,” Paul replies.

  I hop off the tailgate and make my way to the front door.

  “I didn’t mean to piss you off . . . MAY! Jesus, where are you going? Come and talk to me?” he calls.

  “Sorry, Paul, I can’t do this with you.” I turn and look at him with a smile. “I have to pack.”

  I disappear into the door, leaving Paul with a giant smile on his face and a relieved laugh coming out of his mouth. “THANK GOD!”

  After sending texts back and forth with Rose over the past five hours, we finally made a plan. It’s late, two in the morning, and I still have two and a half hours of driving left. Maybe I should’ve waited until tomorrow instead of half-ass packing a bag, getting into my car, and driving out here.

  Crazy little thing called love. Psychotic, huge, emotional, irate, heart breaking thing called love is what they should call it.

  Rose has given me the address to her house, and it’s safely in the GPS. I am making my way through the mountains. God, I hate to drive at night, through the mountains. If it starts raining, I will cry. Talk about facing your fears. I’m killing three of them in one shot. Since I am in the mountains, I decide texting is no longer a good idea, so I call Rose with the speakerphone on.

  “OH MY GOD, MAY, I'M SO EXCITED!” Rose screams.

  “Jesus, Rose. Take it down a notch.”

  “So everything we went over is good with you?” she asks in a normal tone of voice this time.

  “Yeah, are you sure the guys can get him away from the house long enough for us to get there?” I ask one more time.

  “Yeah, it’s all set. Mike and Joe are taking him out for an early dinner before we have the bonfire out back tomorrow . . . well tonight,” she squeals.

  “Okay, well I just got out of big big mountains, so I am about an hour away . . . I’ll see you in a bit,” I say, picking up the phone.

  “Yeah . . . see you in an hour. I’m so happy I think I may cry.” Rose sniffles again.

  “Lock it up, Rose . . . If you blow this surprise, I will turn Lucy on you, I swear to God. See you later.”

  “Bye.”

  I set my phone down in my lap and turn up the radio. I need something to keep me awake. I used up all the adrenaline on the first five hours of the drive, and I am running on empty.

  When I pull into Rose’s driveway, I am very relieved that I have made it here safely, and in less than twenty-four hours, I was going to be seeing the man I want to love for the rest of my life, if he will forgive me.

  “HI!” There’s that damn squeal again.

  “Hi, Rose,” I say, walking up to her with a cringe on my face. “You really need to bring the octaves down chick . . . I think I hear wolves howling for you,” I say with a laugh as we walk into her house.

  I drop my bags at the door and see Rose standing there with tears in her eyes.

  “Come on, Rose. You are so going to blow this surprise, and you know it,” I say, giving her a comforting hug.

  “It’s just that I’m so happy that you two will be so happy together, for good, finally,” she says pulling away and wiping her face.

  “We will see. If he doesn’t feel the same way, I don’t think I could take it. I may die on the spot,” I say, taking my jacket off.

  “Wow, you look hot! I love that dress. Why didn’t you change after the date? And what do you mean if he doesn’t feel the same . . . I told you he is in his own shit world again. When he sees you–holy shit, May–when he sees you, he might die.”

  We both laugh at that together as she shows me to the guestroom. I am beyond beat.

  Once I am in my t-shirt and shorts, I toss a goodnight and see you later at Rose, shut the door, and dream of how later will really go.

  LATER…

  The LONGEST CAR RIDE OF MY LIFE is now taking place with Rose driving her and me to Kevin’s house. We didn’t drive my car because I didn’t want Kevin to know that I was here before I was ready to tell him. We have gotten the go-ahead from Mike and Joe. We have about thirty minutes to get there and get things in order before they get back. Kevin didn’t want to go to dinner, but the guys convin
ced him he needed to get out of the house and took him to Galley’s for a couple beers and some pool.

  As we pull up to Kevin’s house, I take a big breath in. It feels like coming home, and when I hear Lucy going insane out in the pen, I know I am back. Rose gets out of the car, smiling from ear to ear.

  “You ready?” she asks.

  “Yes,” is all I have to say.

  As we are in the barn situating the saddle and everything onto Lucy, Rose’s phone goes off with a text message.

  Mike: He’s too set in his shit. He’s making us bring him home, now. Hope y’all are ready. See you in five.

  “Holy shit!” Rose yells and makes Lucy jump.

  “Are you asking Kevin to marry you, Rose?” I ask, rubbing and soothing Lucy calm.

  “NO . . . But how are you not nervous?” she asks, completely amazed.

  “Because I need him like he needs me . . .”

  “Hands down one of the best things I have ever heard, ever,” she says, walking towards the barn door.

  I get on to Lucy and let me and her have a moment before I take off out of the pen with her.

  “Alright, I’m going to head to the house now. I will text you . . . You have your phone, right?”

  “Yes, Rose.”

  She takes off running towards the front of the house. As luck would have it, as soon as she gets to the porch and sits down, Mike’s truck pulls onto the driveway and climbs slowly towards the house. I can faintly see Kevin get out of the back seat and go over to Rose. He puts his arm around her, and they walk into the house. Mike and Joe then look my way, and my phone goes off at the same time.