by Regan Ure
The emotions were evident in his blue eyes. But I held on to the ache in my chest, reminding me of how much he had hurt me.
"I was in shock finding out she was still alive. All that grief and mourning that had torn me to pieces was for nothing. And I was angry you went behind my back. I didn't want you to know," he admitted, rubbing his neck with his one hand. I swallowed, still staring at him.
"Why?" I asked. Did he think I would judge him? It only took a peek at my past to see I had my own events in my childhood that could be judged.
"You don't want the person you care about to know about your deepest, darkest secrets, the ones that might make them question their feelings for you."
I understood. "I trusted you with mine."
"What happened to you wasn't your fault. It wasn't the same for mine."
"Discovering what happened to Shannon didn't change how I felt about you." For some reason I needed him to know and understand that.
There were a few moments of silence.
"None of this changes anything," I stated. He had walked out on me, breaking my heart. "You told me you didn't want me at your place when you got back. The message was loud and clear. For the last five weeks I've carried on, trying to put it behind me. I'm not over you yet but I'm trying."
Our eyes held. He had been the one to trample all over me, time and time again.
"I don't want you to get over me." He wasn't making this easy. I kept silent. "I wanted to keep our connection superficial. Physical with no emotions. Feeling the way I do about you isn't something I can control. I knew if I fell for you it would only hurt me. Caring for you scares me. But you know what scares me more?"
I shrugged but the truth was I wanted to know.
"Losing you."
All of his words were right and they made me feel so much. But they still couldn't erase his past actions.
He moved closer. There was intent in his eyes and I felt the draw to him grab me, making it harder to think. His hand touched my arm. I looked down as he stopped in front of me.
"I can't do this," I said softly, looking up at him.
He was too close and I found it harder to breathe. My skin burned beneath his touch, needing more.
It would be so easy to give in and let him kiss me but I resisted.
His thumb brushed my lower lip and my defenses crumbled as he pressed his mouth to mine. Our physical attraction had never been the problem. I gave in just for a moment and that was all it took. His tongue swept against mine and I pressed my body up against his, overwhelming my inner emotions with the physical awareness of our bodies against each other.
Without considering the repercussions, I reached for his shirt and tugged it upward. He took it off. Our mouths fused together, only allowing myself to feel and not listen to the voice inside my head that screamed that this was a bad idea.
He pulled away, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath. Something caught my eye. My eyes narrowed as I focused on what had my attention.
* * *
He had a new tattoo. It was the only one on his chest. My hands reached up and touched it, taking it in. My fingers trailed across the letters.
"Why?" I asked, feeling a little stunned that my name was inked in his skin in cursive. Permanently. This wasn't something that could be washed away.
"I told you that you were there already. I want you. I meant it."
I fought against the sting of tears. I had waited so long for him to tell me that I meant something to him but I couldn't shake the feeling that it was too late. He had hurt me too many times.
"I wanted to call you but I thought it was better to do this in person. I only got back from New York just before we had to meet up at the bar last night. I know there's a chance you'll still walk away from me, but I've made my choice." He touched his hand to his heart where my name stood. His fingers brushed me slightly and I pulled my hand away from him.
I was stunned. My eyes went to the tattoo before they lifted to his face. It was too much. I could feel the walls closing in on me. My lungs felt tight and it was harder to breathe. I took a step backward as I tried to take in his statement.
"I know you think this is fixable but it's not. I don't trust you."
"I would never cheat on you," he assured me fiercely.
I shook my head.
"That's not what I mean. I can't trust that you won't hurt me again. If I let you in I'll just be waiting for you to walk out on me again."
It was the truth. Every time we had a disagreement I would be scared he would walk away like he had done so many times before. I couldn't live like that, on edge, waiting for him to leave.
"I won't." He said it with such conviction that I wanted to believe him. I really did. "Give me a chance. I can't change what happened, I can only change what happens from here on out."
The risk was too great.
"You have no idea how much I have suffered for the past five weeks. You ended what we had and I've been trying to pick up the pieces. Now you suddenly appear in my life again and want to work things out?" I exhaled sharply. "Do you know how much you hurt me?"
"I'm sorry," he said softly. He reached out but I stepped back.
"It doesn't erase what you've put me through." I was still so angry and so very hurt.
"Give me a chance to make it right. Let me show you I'm serious this time."
My throat thickened and I swallowed hard. Would giving him that hope hurt us both in the long run? I didn't know. I had no idea what was the right thing to do.
My mind said no while my heart screamed yes. I was torn, not sure what to say. If I held on to the pain of the last five weeks I could tell him to leave, but I remembered what it felt like to be with him.
"You don't have to make a decision right now," he said, retrieving his shirt from the floor. "Think about it."
I stood watching while he looked back at me one last time before he left. When the door closed, I sat down on my bed.
A few minutes later there was a knock at my door.
"Can I come in?" It was Matthew.
"Yes."
He opened the door and peered inside.
"How did it go?" he asked as he entered my room, closing the door behind him.
He sat down beside me and I looked down at my hands folded on my lap.
"I don't know," I said, looking up at him. "He says he wants me but I don't think I can give him another chance."
He put his arm around my shoulder and squeezed me while he gave me a sympathetic look. I leaned my head against his shoulder, trying to figure out what I was going to do next.
"Want some ice cream for breakfast?" he asked. I smiled.
"Yes. I think I might need the double-chocolate one."
I knew no amount of ice cream was going to help, though. I needed time to sort my head out and deal with the anger I still felt for Slater.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I was determined to be strong and to move on. I refused to stay at home any longer, moping around and eating tons of ice cream. Instead I went to classes, pushing through the numbing pain, and I smiled even though I was hurting inside despite all my attempts to get over the bad boy who'd broken my heart.
There was no escaping Slater. He seemed to be everywhere when I went to school, or maybe it was my aching heart that sought him out subconsciously. I tried to make as if I didn't see him but I watched him like a hawk. It didn't help when I saw him talking to some girls who hung on his every word.
I smothered the feeling of jealously. I had let him go, he wasn't mine anymore, and the sooner I made peace with that the better for me. But I couldn't help my feelings, or the way I subconsciously looked for him in places he might be, like on campus.
"There's a party tonight," Levi said a week later. He arched an eyebrow at me with the unspoken question.
I hesitated for a moment. I wasn't sure if I was ready to go out and try to have fun. Would Slater be at the party? If it was a college one, what were the chances
he would be there? Was I ready to see him again?
"That sounds great," I said. The truth was I didn't want to go anywhere but I made myself get up from the comfy couch to go and get something to wear.
I knew if I stayed at home, Slater would consume my thoughts. At least if I was out I could try and keep myself busy.
It took me an hour to find the right outfit and get ready. I was going all out tonight. My makeup was perfection. The little black dress I wore hugged my figure, showing it off.
"You're hot," Levi said when I exited an hour later all done up to dance the night away.
I smoothed my dress down as I smiled at him. It was the response I was looking for. Deep down inside I was hoping Slater would be there. I didn't know why it mattered. He wanted to be with me but I didn't trust him enough to take the chance. I wasn't sure there was anything he could do to change that.
"Thanks. Where's the party?" I asked.
"It's close by," he said, not giving a lot of details.
There was a part of me that wanted to let him go but there was still a part of me that wasn't ready. It wasn't fair. If I wasn't going to give him what he wanted, I would have to let him go completely. But I couldn't.
He said he would give you time, I reminded myself.
I don't know what I had expected him to do. He hadn't once made an effort to talk to me. Maybe this was his way of giving me space, backing off until I changed my mind.
I had gone to the shrink for the second time and I was still feeling the emotional aftereffect of it. Even though it had only been my second appointment, I had delved into the abuse. It had left me feeling vulnerable and exposed. I had briefly opened the door and I was struggling to keep it closed on the dark memories.
"Come on," Levi said, grabbing his car keys from the kitchen counter.
I squared my shoulders, exhaling an emotional breath, hoping to expel the unsettling feelings sitting in the pit of my stomach.
It was a short drive and Levi parked his car a block away because there was limited parking.
We walked to the party. It was a house party with music blaring. I nodded my head at a couple of people I recognized as I followed behind Levi into the house. We made our way through the crowd in the living room to the kitchen to get something to drink. I couldn't help myself, scanning for a glimpse of Slater. I spotted him speaking to a couple of guys. I didn't know whether I was relieved he wasn't chatting up some girls.
The sight of him sent a shiver of awareness through me. I watched as he spoke to the guy standing beside him and my stomach flipped. Stop it, I told myself. You need to let him go.
His eyes caught mine. No matter what I tried to pretend didn't matter because he could see straight through to the insecure girl who loved him but was too scared to risk getting hurt again. Quickly, I averted my gaze but I could feel my pulse race. I hurried behind Levi into the kitchen. He got me a drink. If it was anyone else I wouldn't have accepted but I trusted him.
I took my first sip of my drink, when the door opened and I expected to see Slater, but Steven walked in. The alcohol did nothing to mask the uneasy feeling in my stomach. I took another gulp of my drink, hoping to soothe the rawness I felt inside.
"Hi," I said, greeting him. I felt indebted that he had suggested I go see someone and it was helping.
"Hi there," he said, coming to stand beside me. I took another gulp of my drink to cover the open feeling in the middle of my chest. The alcohol burned down my throat, giving me a moment of pain to distract myself.
Levi gave me a thumbs-up and disappeared from the kitchen. He knew I was on a mission to get over the bad boy who had caused so much chaos in my life. No more push and pull. No more games.
He used to be so shy but in just a few weeks of living with me he had come out of his shell and now he had the type of confidence that could rival Sin and Slater.
"How have you been?" Steven asked, bringing me out of my thoughts and to the present. Did he want to know if I had gone to see someone like he had suggested?
"Good," I said. I wasn't in a place to admit I had taken his advice and gone to see the shrink he had given me the contact details for.
His eyes softened and his hand touched my cheek. I could see by the way he looked at me that he still had feelings for me. My eyes held his. I felt nothing but I didn't pull away. Maybe this was the way to firmly close the door on Slater. I felt a pang of guilt for using him so blatantly.
"You on your own tonight?" he asked. He wanted to know if I was with a guy. I nodded.
"You look stunning," he said. His eyes caressed my face. It felt wrong but I didn't pull away. I knew what was coming but I wasn't going to stop it. His eyes flickered to my lips and he leaned closer.
Instinct told me to pull away, it didn't feel right, but my mind kept me fixed to the spot, refusing to move an inch.
His mouth touched mine softly. It wasn't Slater's touch and it felt wrong—there was no denying it. My hand tightened around my glass as his lips moved against mine.
You can do this, I told myself. My fist tightened around the object in my hand. That uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach uncurled, growing as I pushed myself to stay still.
"You feel so good," he said, framing my face with his hands, "baby."
The effect was immediate. A feeling of being small and defenseless filled me. There was no thinking when I pushed him away with my free hand. My other hand tightened even more around the glass I held.
"Sorry," Steven said, pulling away. His voice sounded different, like an echo down a passageway.
The horrible feeling of helplessness and fear took over, not allowing me to come up for air. My lungs constricted.
Steven frowned at me.
Baby. It echoed in my mind and with it the memories attached to it washed over me again and again. My grip on the glass tightened. Then suddenly the glass shattered and cut into me. I gasped as I looked down at my bleeding hand.
Steven made a move to grab my hand but I pushed him away, cradling my injured hand.
"I want to help you," he said, his eyes firmly fixed on my injured hand. "Let me have a look at it."
I shook my head, still watching the blood drip from my fingers. There was a sound of the door opening that scraped against my consciousness.
"Jordan," Slater said as he rushed over to me. Dazed, my eyes found his as he took my injured hand into his. My blood wet his hands. Steven watched from the sidelines.
"What happened?" Slater asked me before he looked at my cut palm. I pulled my hand back, cradling it against me with my other hand.
"I…m" My memories had me firmly in their grasp as I struggled to explain. I briefly closed my eyes to ride out the memories and the feelings attached to them.
"What the hell happened?" he asked Steven, his voice tight with controlled anger.
"I don't know. I…I think I may have said something to her and she just…freaked out." I opened my eyes again, still riding the wave of my memories that had me in their tight grip and refused to let go.
Still struggling to focus on the present, I looked to see Slater.
"Let me see it." Slowly I stretched my arm out to him and he opened my hand. Glass was still embedded in my skin.
"I just want to clean your hand," he told me.
It took a few moments of holding his concerned gaze before I nodded. The child in me trusted him and I couldn't explain why.
"It's okay," he soothed. He helped me sit on the counter.
He took my hand and ran some water over it. Steven handed him some first-aid stuff he found in a nearby cupboard.
Shivering and trying to stave off the demons from my past, Slater meticulously removed all the glass from my hand. Every now and then I would grimace when it hurt. Steven picked up the broken glass from the floor and cleaned up the mess.
"You don't need stitches," he said as he began to bandage it up. The pain made my eyes water but I bit my lip to stop myself from crying out.
When he was
done he cleaned up the first-aid box. My eyes were fixed on his face, taking in every single beautiful feature.
He handed it back to Steven. "Could you give us a minute?"
Steven nodded and left.
"You want to talk about it?" he asked. I wasn't ready. I shook my head.
A couple of people walked into the kitchen, breaking the moment for us.
"I'll take you home." He helped me off the counter, and while I cradled my injured hand he led me out of the kitchen.
"What happened?" Levi asked when he saw me walk out of the kitchen with my hand bandaged.
"It was nothing," I said, not making a big deal about it. I didn't want to go into details but I had to tell him something. "A glass broke in my hand."
"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked. I nodded.
"I checked her hand. She doesn't need stitches."
Heaven knows what I was going to tell Steven but I didn't want to think about that now.
"I'll take her home," Slater told Levi.
Levi looked to me and I nodded, and Slater led me through the party and out to his car. Once I was in I closed my eyes and leaned my head back.
"I don't want to be alone." He remained quiet as he started his car.
The car ride was silent and it wasn't long before he pulled into his parking lot and switched off the car. We were at his place. He turned to face me while I stared out the windshield.
"Jordan," he said softly, pulling my eyes to his. His hand went to my shoulder.
"If you don't want to be here I can take you home or anywhere else you want to go."
I had an out but I didn't take it.
"I want to be here."
My eyes met his as he opened my door. He helped me out. He put his arm around my shoulder and I rested my head against him. I had been fighting this closeness with him for so long but this time I allowed myself to lean into him and take his strength.
Maybe it was because I still felt so vulnerable from my episode with Steven in the kitchen. I felt mortified when I thought of what Steven thought of me. It was something I could handle another day, so I pushed the thought from my mind.
