Still Into You
Page 12
Another week went by without any word from her. They normally talked three to four times a week, even when she was on tour.
When the story of their broken engagement hit the papers, he had been half-tempted to drive up to Chicago to see how she was doing. But he’d decided to call instead. He didn’t expect her to answer. She was probably inundated with phone calls right now. She’d get back to him when she saw it. He hoped.
And three days later, she’d had finally sent him a text. All it said was that she was doing as well as could be expected. Whatever the hell that meant.
Over the course of the next few weeks, he’d given her space. Many times he almost dropped everything to go to her, but life got in the way, as it often did.
He finally gave in to that temptation this morning. Kaitlyn was on Spring Break with her mother. He had nothing important that week keeping him in Indy. So he’d packed a bag and headed up to Chicago.
Finally, the phone in his hand stopped ringing and was replaced by the sexiest voice he had ever heard.
“Hello?”
“Allie?” he said. Another person he hadn’t talked to since the time Mia was in Indy. That night with her . . . he hadn’t had anything like it. Well, that wasn’t the truth. He had too many like it, but what was different—not wanting to leave her. But life got in the way yet again. Not that he minded, not when he had his adorable daughter telling him how much she loved him.
“Luke.” It wasn’t a question. She knew his voice.
“Yeah.”
“Um . . . uh,” she said, her normal, confident voice not present. “What can I do for you?”
“Mia. Where is she?” he said, getting right to the point.
“She’s supposed to be in the studio later this afternoon. I think she’s at home now.”
“How is she?”
“Well . . .” Allie started and he knew she was trying to come up with something and that made him glad he was already on the road. He needed to see Mia. He was too goddamn worried.
“It’s bad?”
“Yeah,” she said on an exhale of breath. “I don’t know what to do.”
“I’m on my way right now.”
“You’re coming to Chicago?”
“Yeah, still on 65. Almost to the toll road.”
“So what? About an hour?”
“Yeah.”
“You heading straight to her place?”
“Yeah. I need to see her. I’m tired of her hiding from me.”
“Good luck with that,” she answered with a soft huff of air.
God, this conversation was awful, and definitely not like two people who had been intimate with each other. After that night in Indy, he hadn’t reached out, despite having her number. He felt too much. He wanted too much.
But he couldn’t have it. He wouldn’t do that to his daughter. Kaitlyn was his sole focus. The moment he found out about her, it had changed him and he’d vowed to never let her feel abandoned. Not by him. He knew that feeling all too well. His adoptive parents never made him feel anything but love, but that nagging feeling of being abandoned by the woman who gave birth to him had stayed with him. And he never wanted his daughter soiled by that.
So he stayed away. First, Mia. Now . . .
“Allie . . .” he groaned in frustration. He wanted her.
“I’m not going to the studio, so if you want to talk after you see Mia . . .”
Talk? He wanted to blow her fucking mind again. That’s what he wanted to do. In this moment, Luke didn’t want to stay away. He desperately needed to be surrounded by this woman.
“Text me your address.”
“Okay,” she said in a breathless voice, the same voice she used when he hovered above her as she begged him to make her come.
“Talk to you later, Allie,” he said and hung up.
For the next forty-five minutes, he navigated the heavy Chicagoland traffic. Traveling up the Dan Ryan to the Loop, the normal longing he felt for his hometown was missing. Of course, he missed Chicago, but home was with Kaitlyn now.
Luke got off the highway and maneuvered through the city streets until he arrived in Mia’s neighborhood. The last time he was here was a little after she bought it, over a year ago. He found a parking spot a few houses away and made his way to her brownstone. Standing outside of Mia’s home, key in hand, the imposing, brick façade made him hesitate.
Was he making the right choice by just showing up unannounced? It had been five weeks since he had last heard from her. She was hiding out and he had absolutely no idea what was going on with her. Luke was concerned, very concerned. He needed to see for himself how she was, especially since she wouldn’t tell him.
This was definitely the right decision. Time to be the overbearing best friend.
He rang the bell to announce his arrival, then undid the lock. Walking in, he did a quick perusal of her place, noticing that there had been some changes. Lots of new furniture. It made him sad that she was making this her home and not Indy. He had such hope that she’d be his neighbor, that he’d be able to see her all the time.
Hope sucks sometimes.
“I’m still in bed,” Mia’s lyrical voice called out, interrupting his train of thought. “Where you left me.”
Wait. What? Who left her up there? And how was she left? He didn’t answer, but hurried up the steps to her bedroom, a whirlwind of questions spinning around in his mind.
Was she with someone? That didn’t seem right. Mia didn’t sleep around. When she had sex, she was in a relationship. It had only been five weeks since she had broken up with Ethan. She couldn’t be in another relationship already—could she?
Rounding the landing, he walked towards her bedroom and froze when he saw her sprawled out on the bed, the sheet barely covering her nakedness, her skin flushed. Yeah, she definitely looked like she just had sex. He knew that look well.
“Mia?” he asked, his gaze trained on her face. He wanted to see her reaction to him being there. Her eyes closed at his voice, her head falling back to her pillow.
“What are you doing here?” He sensed her disappointment that he was there. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t hurt. But he had to shake those thoughts and focus on why he was there—his troubled friend.
He marched into her room, kicked off his shoes, and plopped down on the bed next to her. She quickly glanced over at him and then turned her head back to look at the ceiling. Her reaction didn’t make him happy. She’d always leaned into him. He wasn’t having this. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he pulled her to him. She came but kept her body stiff, on alert. His poor Mia.
He tenderly pushed her hair back. “You see, my best friend wasn’t responding to any of my messages. And I know for a fact some major stuff went down and I was worried about her. And since she wouldn’t pick up her phone, I decided to come to her.”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Luke,” she said, lifting her head and leveling him with an impressive glare.
“Hey! Why are you mad at me?” he asked, scooting down to get even with her face.
She pushed herself to a seated position, holding the sheet tight against her chest. “God, I’m not mad at you.”
Okay, so she wasn’t mad at him, but he could definitely feel the anger rolling off of her. She was angry at herself and the situation she was now in.
“But you’re mad.”
His simple rebuttal defused any anger Mia had. She blew out a big puff of air, her hair flying up in the air before slowly falling like a feather back into her face. Again, Luke brushed it aside, studying her dark brown eyes. He took a deep breath when he saw that the sadness had settled in her beautiful orbs.
“So, who left you in bed?”
She had the decency to look a little embarrassed. Now would she talk to him? He hated that he wasn’t sure. Before she pretty much told him everything happening in her life. Now she was a mystery to him. She was closed off.
“An old friend,” was all she said. At least she
didn’t deny it. Though he wished she’d share the name of the man. But at least she was talking.
“When did you start seeing this old friend?”
Mia turned her head and stared at some point out her window. “A couple weeks ago.”
He wanted to ask how she could go so quickly from Ethan to this new guy. That was not like her. But he didn’t. The silence between them was enough to break her.
“I know what you’re thinking and I do not want to talk about him.”
“Him” being Ethan, that he knew.
“Does this new guy know you’re using him to forget Ethan?”
“That’s not what this is.”
“Oh, really?”
She quirked an eyebrow in answer. Ha! That’s exactly what it was. Now things were making sense.
“Have you talked to him?”
“A few weeks ago,” she answered begrudgingly. The words sounded like they were pulled from her. Luke knew then how much she really didn’t want to talk about this. But he wouldn’t be the bestest best friend if he didn’t push.
“And?”
“Luke. Please.”
“Why don’t you want to talk about this?”
“Not talking about it and not thinking about it are the only ways I’m holding it all together right now.”
“Why did you call it off?” he asked. She was at a breaking point and he decided to push some more, hoping she’d tell him what was bringing her down.
Mia furiously wiped at the tears falling from her eyes. He hated seeing her in pain. He wanted to help but he didn’t know what to do because she hadn’t told him a damn thing about what was wrong. God, she needed to tell him. He needed to know.
With her eyes focused on her lap, she spoke. “I am in a bad place, Luke, and I’m trying to fix it.”
He controlled the urge to put his hand to his mouth. He hadn’t wanted to cry in a long, long time, but sitting here with her right now, the urge to let the tears fall was overwhelming. What kind of bad place was she in? How the hell did she get there? What the hell was going on?
“Okay,” he began slowly, “That’s good you’re trying to fix it, but why leave Ethan? He loves you and wants to help. He’s miserable without you.”
“He can’t help! I need to do this. Me.”
“But that doesn’t explain why you two aren’t together.” And why you’re with another man, he left unsaid.
“I feel safe with Ethan.”
“That’s a good thing . . .” Though it worried him that if she felt safe with Ethan, did she not feel safe with this new guy?
“God, it is! But I can’t pretend with him. I can’t pretend anymore. It’s there,” she said, grabbing at her head and sobbing. The sheet slipped to her lap, but he didn’t see her nakedness. He only saw his broken friend.
“What’s there, Mia?” he asked, pulling her into the comfort of his arms, doing his best to soothe her. He had never seen her like this before, so broken, so sad.
“Things from when I was younger.”
“What things, sweets? You know you can talk to me. Remember, best friends talk about everything?”
He felt her struggle, her breathing became shallow, the grip on his shirt tightened. Then she began to tremble. What the hell happened in her past that could cause this kind of reaction?
“I can’t,” she croaked. At that moment he didn’t care about their promise as best friends. He just hoped that Mia had talked to someone.
“Have you told Ethan?”
“No. I’ve told no one.”
Mia
May 2008
Sitting on the hard surface of her rooftop terrace, Mia regarded the emptiness of the space around her. No furniture occupied the space. The only inhabitants were the empty alcohol bottles on the floor. It was bleak. Just like her life.
She rested her cheek on her raised knees and let the tears flow. After Luke’s unexpected visit a month ago, she had pushed what he said into a hidden corner of her mind. She didn’t want to face it. She didn’t want to deal with the pain. But God, there was so much of it.
Every single day.
Each mistake she made, and there were many, each event that had ever gone wrong in her life. Her mother leaving. Her father becoming a shell of himself, essentially leaving her too. And then there was Ethan.
Ethan.
She missed his love, his strength. God, she just missed him.
The tears quickly turned to sobs. Nothing she did was taking away the pain. Having Tom with her wasn’t helping anymore. That hurt too. She knew deep down that she would hurt him. She didn’t want that. He didn’t deserve that, but she didn’t know how to stop it.
The thing was, Tom loved her.
Mia loved him too. How could she not? He was a beautiful man, inside and out. She cared for Tom deeply. Always had and always would.
But this love with Tom was nothing like what she had with Ethan. She couldn’t define the difference. It was just more. Ethan was just her heart and he loved her like she was his.
That comparison had her kicking the nearest bottle in frustration. How much pain was he in because of all of this? Because of her?
“God!” she wailed from the top of her lungs, her whole body aching with the overwhelming weight of her pain. She needed it gone. Now.
None of her usual remedies had worked. She needed more than Tom, more than the alcohol.
Mia pushed herself off the floor, resting against the wall. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, unlocked it, and scrolled through her contacts until she came to Marc’s name.
He was the first friend she’d made after she’d moved here, the one who’d introduced her to her bandmates and Tom. Over the years, she and Marc had taken a lot of drugs together. She had a habit of calling him when she needed to forget. When she’d been going through the on again/off again relationship with Luke, Marc was the one she’d called to take away the pain and he’d always done a fantastic job. She desperately needed that now.
She pressed his name and placed the call. Her head fell back against the wall as she listened to the phone ring. After the second ring, she heard the click as he answered.
“Hi. It’s Mia,” she said before giving Marc a chance to speak.
His laughing voice came over the line. “I know who it is.”
“I just . . .”
“Were unsure because we haven’t talked in awhile?”
“Something like that,” she agreed. How did she let her friendships get away from her like this? First Tom, now Marc.
“How’ve you been?”
She scratched her head and sighed. “I’ve been better,” she admitted.
“Yeah, I heard that. Your boys are worried about you.”
Mia scrunched up her face. She thought she’d been careful not to let it show. Obviously not if they were discussing this with Marc.
“Yeah, I haven’t been in this place in a long time, and it’s so much worse than it’s ever been. I need your help.”
“Mia . . .”
“It’s there, Marc, and I can’t get rid of it. I need it gone,” she paused, exhaling loudly, battling what seemed her ever-present tears. “Can you come over? Please?”
His answer was immediate. “Yeah, I can. Lizzie’s with Tom tonight.”
This she knew. That’s why she was alone tonight. Lizzie, Tom’s best friend and Marc’s girlfriend, and Tom tried to have dinner together every other week. He’d canceled the last one to be with Mia. He had wanted to make sure he didn’t miss two in a row. She played the supportive lover, but she had really wished Tom had stayed with her tonight instead.
“What do you want?”
Time for her drug order.
“I don’t want to know what you give me. I trust you.”
“Mia, are you sure?”
“Marc, we’ve done this before. I just need it again. I need you to take away the pain. I need this favor.”
“This is not a favor.”
No. Did he not want to do this
for her now? She shook her head back and forth. “I’ll go elsewhere . . .”
“No. You won’t. Don’t you dare go to someone else! You hear me, Mia?”
She stayed silent in this standoff.
“Mia,” he said, drawing out her name in a plea. When she didn’t answer, he blew out his breath. “Okay. I’ll be there in about an hour. Do not leave! I’ll take care of you. Please just don’t leave. Promise me.”
She sighed at how worried he sounded and her words of promise were quickly out of her mouth. “I won’t leave. I . . . um . . . thanks, Marc. I owe you.”
“You’d do the same for me.”
“Thank you,” she answered quietly and hung up. She was blessed by this friend. Yes, it was fucked up, but Marc—he knew how to hide it, mask it. He did it often for himself. And for her. They were friends for a reason. Kindred spirits tied together by their pain.
Mia pushed herself from the wall and attempted to go downstairs to wait for Marc. She made it down the first flight fine, but when turning to go down the next flight, her head felt like it might float off her head. Pausing, she put her hand on the railing and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.
With a death grip on the railing, she slowly made her way down the rest of the stairs. She opened the door and stood in the pass through between the sun room and family room. Mia saw her destination in her mind—the sofa. She took a few steps, and then her legs gave out and she fell to the floor in a heap. She simply didn’t have it in her to make it the rest of the way and wasn’t even going to attempt to get up now. She’d just wait until Marc arrived.
She closed her eyes for a bit to rest and when she next opened them, it was due to the door slamming shut. Her eyes followed Marc as he walked into her home, down the hallway, pausing in the kitchen. He regarded her lying in the middle of the floor and frowned. That was his only reaction. He didn’t make a big deal of her on the floor. He lay right next to her, his eyes locked on hers.
“Mia, sweetie, have you taken anything?”
She tried to answer but her dry mouth prevented that. She swallowed a couple times, moistening her mouth, then spoke. “No.”
“You smell like a liquor store,” he remarked as he got a little closer.