“Isn’t that a sorority?”
“Sure is.” He offers a seductive smile and rides away.
I find out later that the code word means “nice ass.” It’s hard to resist an offer like that, and I find myself liking Mathew more and more.
***
The party is an unforgettable night, just like the dozens to follow in my first year in the company of Matt Barnet. The women, the alcohol, the late nights—I experience it all, all the while achieving a 4.0 grade point average. He shows me the way and leads a flock of followers, but he never revels in the power he has. He’s just a natural-born leader. I envy that, I envy him.
***
The year passes quickly, and soon Matt, our beloved trailblazer, will be graduating and moving into the real world. The late nights we talk about our pasts while finishing off a twelve-pack of Heineken, the all stand out in my mind. He is the only person who really knows my secrets and encourages me to use my newfound skills to deal with the loss I’ve hidden over the years. The years I’ve always wanted to forget.
I didn’t know who I am without my scars, without the hidden sorrow I carry around underneath a cloche of heartache. Matt encourages me to try self-reflection and go on a journey inward to face the hardest of problems and most traumatic events that are festering deep within me.
This is an approach I’m already learning through my specialties in psychiatry and behavioral sciences. Using these techniques personally proves to be much harder than I anticipated..
My memories are safely stored away, hidden by disassociation, and protected by my subconscious. Except for Madison. She still has the power to escape, causing me to relive our last tragic moments together.
The devastating death of my entire family combined with being the sole survivor at such a young age has obviously been a life-altering experience. What I didn’t expect is how easily it all can be triggered. The sense of loss and grief repeats itself as I go through life, sending me through the same stages of grief all over again.
Matt forces me to admit that grief is a journey that I don’t have to take alone, and as I begin my personal voyage, I discover the support tools are scattered everywhere. Yet finding what I specifically need is a painstaking, arduous process.
People who have experienced the same crisis as me and lived through it, are the connections and support network I need. It’s the answer I’ve been looking for concerning my past, my grief, and the unanswered questions that have sculpted me as a man, changing and twisting, my entire life.
As I open up in more ways, I begin to feel more comfortable. I recognize the courage it takes to trust, share, and unlock the deepest of wounds and attempt to let them go. I know it will take time to put the pieces back together, and I also accept the fact that it will never be truly over. Grief, in some form or another, will follow me the rest of my life.
The worst is over.
Or so I think.
***
I meet Alex—Alexander Kincaid Storm III, that is—my sophomore year. He is the complete opposite of Matt in personality, but they have one thing in common: pedigree. Both have highly influential parents who have mapped out their futures and set goals on their behalf, never once considering their own dreams and desires. One is destined for law, the other medicine. Matt rebels more often than my new friend Alex, and that’s where most of their differences stand out.
Alex and his laid-back approach to life attract women in flocks. His good looks and playboy style catch the attention of many women on campus. And that’s how the two men meet. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that it’s over a woman.
***
Janelle is rich and spoiled. Did I mention rich? Most people would also say she’s beautiful. We’re friends, but nothing more than that. I know her well enough to know that she’s very troubled. Why that doesn’t matter to any of my friends is a mystery to me. If I had to diagnosis Janelle, I would say she’s a textbook case of borderline personality disorder.
She’s clearly very needy and dramatic and goes to extremes to attract attention. A fiery brunette with a ricking body, she uses startling measures to keep her size-two figure. I hear that she only eats carrots, and that’s why her skin is slightly orange. I look it up one day, and apparently it’s a thing..
Everything collides one rainy night at Janelle’s birthday party. She’s invited both men, a dangerous game of cat and mouse. Obviously, she’s the tumultuous feline, and there are two unsuspecting mice in her trap.
Alex and I arrive together, then instantly he’s a magnet at her side. I watch her carefree, flirty performance, slightly embarrassed when she forces her tongue into Alex’s mouth, as I stand next to them. Her skimpy white dress rises too high once she’s on her tiptoes with her arms wrapped around his neck.
Then suddenly, out from the shadows, in walks Matt. I’m feeling powerless over the situation as I go in for the obligatory man hug. It’s been weeks since I saw him last with his crazy schedule, but it isn’t long before his eyes travel over to the crash site.
Alex has his hand under Janelle’s dress, with a tight hold on her ass as he crushes their bodies together.
I’m not sure what to expect from Matt, but it isn’t what I’ve anticipated. He slowly walks over to the both of them, gives Alex a hard pat on the back, and abruptly stops the make-out scene.
“She yours?”
Alex, surprised by the question, doesn’t answer right away. “I guess so,” he finally says.
“You can have her,” Matt casually says.
Janelle’s eyes widen in shock.
“Don’t give me that look,” Matt says as Janelle noticeably deflates on the spot.
She looks to Alex, who now has both hands up in the air.
“I don’t like the game you’re playing, Janelle.”
And with that, he steps away and gives Matt a handshake.
“Sorry dude, I didn’t know.”
And they both shrug it off like she means nothing.
Tears spill out of her eyes as she runs outside into the cold rain.
We all follow, feeling a sense of responsibility as we stand on the stoop, covered by the awning. While we stay dry, we see Janelle in the yard, her white dress quickly drenched, dripping at the hem. She’s still sobbing over her botched plan to have two men fight over her. I guess it never entered her mind that both men might throw her away.
We’re alarmed when we witness her taking out a bottle of pills. Unaware of her intentions, Matt approaches her first and reaches for her hand. He slowly takes the bottle from her, reading the label. Then he puts it in his pocket and turns her with both hands resting on her shoulders.
“What are you doing?” he asks, looking into her sad eyes.
“I’m sorry,” she says, as she buries her face into his chest.
We’re all still watching as they both stand in the rain getting soaked.
“You need help, Janelle.”
She nods as the floodgates open and her sobs ring out.
He ushers her into the house and takes care of her.
It’s hard to know why she would provoke such a game when the outcome could clearly leave her with nothing, but then again, it fits her diagnosis to a tee. Matt is nothing less than a champion in my book. He promptly took action and put aside any harsh personal feelings he may have harbored toward Janelle. He simply let his craft take over.
Mathew Barnet was obviously born to be a doctor. How could I possibly live up to his heroic example?
Alex and I continued to feel the weight of that night. The lawyer and the psychiatrist learned something important we would never forget. Those who aren’t the easiest to love are often the ones who need it the most.
Matt knew that, and he proved it by acting on pure instinct.
It wasn’t the last time Matt would surprise us, and when he met Amanda, a whirlwind romance emerged. I had never seen Matt happier, and despite his father’s objections, they were married within six months.
They actuall
y eloped to Vegas, with no prenup, which gave his father a coronary. Knowing Matt, he probably did this on purpose. It was just another reason I looked up to him.
I could never see myself married, though, or even tied down or committed to one woman. It just wasn’t in my DNA. I accepted that, and the women I chose to be with had to accept it, too.
It just wasn’t worth the risk.
Chapter Eleven
Theo
Present
“Eden our therapy together is nonnegotiable. I told you I would help, but you have to trust me.”
I just had to keep my dick in my pants, and then it would all be okay.
She shrugs it off, as if my word isn’t written in stone. It always has been, and it always will be. She’ll learn.
If I could pass the test that was cruelly given to me tonight, I’m strong enough to conquer anything. Just when I think I’m on steady ground, she steps closer—too close—and whispers, “You’re going to need a bigger boat.”
We both know she’s just declared we’re in dangerous waters, but who is the shark?
I already knew I was in trouble, but the difference now is that it’s not only my obsession I have to control, it’s hers as well.
“There’s a guest bedroom upstairs. It has its own bathroom. Please go now.”
I watch her climb the stairs, her shoes in one hand, her purse in the other. I can still make out that sinful bra and panty set. She’s a temptress, without even trying.
“Night,” she says, without turning, knowing my eyes are on her every move. I slowly leave for my own room—angry, conflicted, and completely hard.
It’s going against everything I believe. My physical need is approaching urgency as an instant replay of earlier this evening jolts my memory. Her body is etched in my brain. Her performance, every move, look, and touch is clearly imbedded. The tension is explosive now that I’m alone with Eden, just yards away, causing a deep hunger to ignite within. I could be buried deep within her right now, and she would surrender to me willingly. I imagine all the dirty things I could be doing to her, with her. She would be begging me to fuck her. I feel an ache low in my body as every muscle cries out for her.
For the first time in my self-controlled life, the untamed parts of me conflict with my need and desire for her, and the lack of desire for anyone else. I won’t lie, nothing I’ve done makes sense so far.
I push the covers back, swinging my legs to the floor. I grab the bottoms I carelessly discarded earlier and walk toward her door. The pull is too strong to resist as I slowly push the cracked door open. Watching her sleep from across the room, she is glowing as the moon spills in through the window.
I can make out her long, dark curls splayed out on her pillow, and her bare shoulders exposing her creamy white skin. It’s screaming to be touched. Her lips are slightly parted, yet untouchable. I’m losing the battle within. I’m a cobra ready to strike, about to ruin the exact parts of her I desire. She’s full of life, passionate, and too young. My pulse picks up speed at the vision in front of me. She’s everything I shouldn’t want, and everything I crave. I thirsted for her, temptation growing stronger, making it harder to control, and I am usually all about control.
The lines are blurred, hazy and conflicted. When did my professional need to help her fade into the background, and my desire to own her physically take center stage?
I lose track of time as my brain trying to process how this has happened. I nearly lose it and walk in to touch her as the ferocious need calls me to her, but I’m glued to the floor, leaning on the door frame, forcing myself not to cross the threshold of desire.
With one foot after another, I manage to make it back to my room. I immediately feel lonely, pushing the feelings down for now, but there’s no mistaking it. Deep down I know it’s her, and only her. Breathing a sigh of relief, I admit what I’ve been fighting, inviting the weight of sleep to finally take me.
***
I wake to the smell of coffee, and a reminder of my fall from grace with my silent need for this woman. I chastise myself in the light of day and proclaim a fresh start. Acknowledging my feelings is one thing. Admitting to myself that my life has been altered will continue to silently haunt me, but self-imposed restraint is the way I was made. I have to believe that I have control.
Or so I tell myself.
After a hasty shower, I dress in a T-shirt and jeans and walk into the kitchen, Eden has her back to me.
“I hope you don’t mind. I found this in your laundry room.” My white T-shirt hangs on her body loosely, causing an unfamiliar feeling deep in my gut.
“Whatever makes you feel comfortable. How’d you sleep?”
I’m mesmerized when she reaches for a mug. Her stretch for the top shelf causes her shirt to rise, exposing her beautiful, bare ass. I never stood a chance. She turns and hands me the steaming hot mug, her smirk confirming my thoughts.
“Now tell me.” She smirks. “I’m here because…”
Her eyes glance over the rim of her coffee mug as she awaits my answer.
“For several reasons. I’m still your therapist, for one. I want to help you through your grief. Something like this isn’t handled alone.”
Our gaze collides and her sad smile tugs at my heart. How can I explain that I know what is behind that smile? I’ve lived there for years.
“And I also promised to help you find your mother. After what I witnessed last night, I need your word that you’ll do things my way.”
“You want me to stay out of it, doctor?”
Her eyes are drilling into me. I knew that handing control over wouldn’t be easy for her. Despite her reluctance, it’s for the best. I have connections that will get the job done while I keep her safe. Keep her close.
“Yes, trust me, Eden. I’ll take care of you.”
I find myself in over my head. Her radiant, porcelain-like skin and violet eyes brighten my world. The guilt in me mixes with longing that unnerves me. I tense immediately when the truth is too close for comfort. I want more, and it’s only a matter of time now.
“I believe in you, Theo.”
My weak smile hides the shift I’m not prepared for—my name on her lips.
She tucks her hair behind her ear, knowing exactly what she’s doing. She’s changing the game. We’re on a level playing field now, or so she thinks.
My phone rings just as I’m about to address her newfound equality.
I reach for it on the entry way table where it’s been sitting up until now, charging. Once I pick it up, I see Alex’s name on the screen.
“Hey buddy,” I answer.
“Don’t you ever listen to your messages? I’ve left three.”
Surprised by his accusation, I glance down. There’s seven new messages on my phone. Well, hell.
“Sorry, you’re right. I’ve been busy.”
“Can you get to work then?” His tone is heavy. “You’re speaking tonight at the Survivors Benefit for Children.”
“Alex, I’m sorry. I haven’t even thought about it, to be honest.”
Son of a bitch. For the first time in a very long time, I’ve let my personal life obstruct my obligations. My commitment to my friends and my professional responsibilities has completely fallen to the wayside.
“You can’t be serious! That’s not like you, Theo. Does this have anything to do with a certain young woman who has you so distracted?” The smirk is evident in his tone.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
I’m surprised by my own admission.
“Isn’t it?” Disapproval lingers in his words. “In what world does this end well?”
“I’m not saying it will.” Pressing the bridge of my nose with my forefinger and thumb, my eyes close. “Just let me handle it.”
His long sigh on the other end causes a dull ache in my head that I ignore.
“Fine. And your speech?”
“Consider it done. I need a favor, though. Will you have your friend Steel Arc
her call me, please. ASAP.”
“Steel? Why would you need the help of a Special Ops guy?”
“I’ll fill you in once I talk to him.”
Noticing Eden, I see her determined face looking back at me, but my mind is racing. I’m gambling with her future, her happiness. What will Steel find? I’m hoping for a miracle.
After saying goodbye to Alex, I walk over to the bar, to her.
“We’re going to a formal benefit tonight. Black tie.”
Our eyes meet, and for one brief moment, I take pride in my control.
Chapter Twelve
Eden
Last night, I wanted him. Usually my mind goes numb when performing, but somehow I got caught up in the moment with him. If I’m being honest with myself, I liked it. I liked him. Even if he’s occupied my mind way too much lately.
It was intoxicating as he touched my every curve with his gaze. His eyes on my body excited me as he completely zeroed in on me. It wasn’t the first time I’d thought of him that way, either.
I won’t ignore the desire rolling around deep inside me, nor will I regret what I did last night. I know he doesn’t regret it, either, but would he admit it? I’m not a fool. I know what’s at stake if we cross that line. Still, I’m intrigued.
***
As his driver pulls up to mom and dad’s home—my home now—I force a weak smile. Regret and comfort are circling inside me.
Dad. One simple word, and I’m frozen in time. I have compartmentalized these feelings and tucked them far away, but still the seep out. The grief and the pain are hidden behind carefully constructed walls. Tearing them down was not in my plans—not even for him.
The house is empty as I make my way through the great room. The spacious travertine terrazzo stone flooring and hand-chipped brick fireplace make a statement. I pause for a moment, recalling the many Christmases we shared in this room. I can still feel the heat from the fireplace if I close my eyes.
Surviving Eden (Surviving Series Book 1) Page 9
