Rock Bottom (Bullet)

by Jade C. Jamison

  She had to play it cool, though. She didn’t want Ethan thinking either extreme—one, that she was almost where she believed she was hovering, on the precipice of falling into the love chasm, or two, that she was cold and uncaring. She had to be cautious about maintaining a careful balance. Ethan was potentially fragile, and his sobriety was her highest priority. She’d have to play the morning by ear and make sure he got what he needed. Her feelings didn’t matter.

  But she continued grinning widely when she stepped in the shower and enjoyed the warm water streaming onto her cheeks. She could still smell him on her skin until she started rubbing the soap under her arms.

  Had there been a place on her body he hadn’t touched? She didn’t think so. And it was like he knew exactly what she needed and how she needed it and hadn’t wanted to deny her a thing.

  She looked at that damn tattoo. It was taunting her, almost as though it were saying, “I told you so.” Yeah…Jenna knew that when she fell, she fell hard, and she was dismayed to find this time was going to be no different.

  She scrubbed shampoo into her scalp, trying to devise a plan to protect her heart. What could she do differently this time to stop the awful heartache she’d suffered last time? Well, it had been more than a broken heart. Her last boyfriend, a prick named Donald, had damaged her psyche. The guy had been too much like her dad (only worse in the long run), and she’d been in a vulnerable place from the beginning. And, in the end, his final blow…he’d just wrecked her. What Jenna needed to do was stop falling for broken guys. It was hard, though, because they were the people she most understood. She shared with them a common background. And it was too late…she’d once again fallen for a damaged man, but this time he was the guy who was likely the biggest wreck she’d ever met.

  She was never going to learn.

  Well, maybe she was stupid, but she knew better than to show her feelings. The morning after was always the part that made her the most nervous. It might have been easier if Ethan had left sometime the night before, but he hadn’t. So now they’d have the awkward and uncomfortable task of dealing with each other the next day, and she knew she’d have to be cool. She only hoped she could handle that.

  She nearly jumped and squealed when she heard a rap on the bathroom door. She’d been living alone long enough that she wasn’t used to other people disrupting her routine. She raised her voice. “Yeah?”

  She heard the door creak open. “Jenna?”

  It was Ethan…of course. Like it would have been someone else. She answered, “Yeah?”

  She heard him laugh. “I really gotta take a piss. Sorry.”

  “Give me a sec. I just need to rinse. Two minutes?”

  “Yeah.” She heard him close the door again. For a second, she’d thought he was going to just barge in and start going. She felt relief that he wasn’t. Of course, that would have broken the day after ice.

  And before she opened the door to him, she needed to put on her game face. She couldn’t give away what she was feeling. She just hoped he wasn’t going to be a total douchy dickweed. She could deal with just about anything else, but no cocky behavior, like he’d done her a favor. If he acted this morning like he had the first time she’d met him, she’d have to kick him out and then talk to him about it later.

  She got out of the shower and patted dry, steeling herself for the inevitable, because the more she thought about it, the more she was convinced that arrogance would be the way Ethan would deal with the previous night’s proceedings. Maybe if she hadn’t slipped so easily into orgasm, it wouldn’t be so easy for him. But what was done was done, and there was nothing she could do to change it. All she could do would be to set him straight when he got annoying.

  Unfortunately, she wasn’t quite prepared, but she’d promised to clear out of the bathroom as soon as possible, so she wrapped the towel around herself and opened the door. Ethan was leaning against the wall next to the door, and he was only wearing the black underwear he’d been wearing the night before. They weren’t tight, but they hugged him nonetheless and left little to the imagination. She didn’t look directly at him, but she saw him from head to toe just the same and almost blushed remembering. She swallowed. “It’s all yours.”

  He’d been doing a little looking himself, she noticed. He straightened up and walked into the bathroom. “Thanks.”

  As the door closed, Jenna took another deep breath. Okay. First awkward moment over. But she was going to get dressed. That would help some.

  She threw the damp towel on her bed and quickly yanked a bra and panties out of her dresser drawer. They didn’t match, and she didn’t care. She just wanted to get covered. She slipped the black panties on and had just fastened the white bra on by the time Ethan made it back to her room. He stood in the doorway. “Did you really have to get dressed?” She tried to smile, and he smiled back. “Do you mind if I take a quick shower? And do you have any toothpaste I can use?”

  She hoped that didn’t mean he planned on kissing her again. Bad enough the smell of sex loomed heavily in her room. She knew just having him leave wouldn’t be enough to get him out of her head…but it would be a good start. It would take all weekend.

  She kept the smile on her face and nodded, walking toward the doorway. Ethan moved out of her way and followed her. She could feel his eyes on her ass. It didn’t feel uncomfortable like she’d thought it would. Instead, she liked it.

  Stop it, Jenna.

  When they got to the bathroom, she told him to help himself to whatever he needed, and she showed him where she kept the toothpaste in her medicine cabinet. She fetched him a towel (her favorite—an extra fluffy black one) and a washcloth and then waved and backed out of the bathroom.

  While he showered, she combed her hair out and got dressed, putting on a white tank and jeans. She wanted to change the sheets, get rid of the scent of what they’d done. No way could she stand sleeping in that bed tonight, smelling him.

  For now, though, so he wouldn’t question what she was doing, she just made the bed. God, she couldn’t do it without remembering every single moment about the night before…recalling how he held her, what he’d said, how he felt. She didn’t know how to get him out of her head and didn’t think she’d be able to until he left.

  She hadn’t planned on making coffee, because then she’d feel obliged to ask him if he wanted a cup before he left, and she just needed to push him out the door. She felt like spiders were crawling under her skin, and she wouldn’t feel better until he was gone.

  But he wasn’t making it easy.

  As she started walking toward the kitchen, she heard him shut off the shower, and that made her decide for certain not to make the coffee. It would be just a few more minutes now, if she could hold off. She heard the bathroom door open. “Jenna?”

  Oh, no. What did he want now? “Yeah?”

  He walked toward her voice. When she saw him come around the corner, she thought she would die. Not only was he bathed in a halo of light streaming in the kitchen from the living room, but he was probably the most gorgeous she’d ever seen him. His stubble was a little heavier than it had been the night before, adding to the bad boy rugged look. His hair was damp too, and it made him look even hotter. In the light, though, she was able to fully appreciate all his tattoos. They were colorful and made his body look like a canvas. His eyes—usually a deep green—reminded her this morning of the ocean, and she was afraid of drowning in them. Worst, he was still wearing just his underwear. Not good.

  “Let’s go grab something to eat. My treat.”

  No…definitely not good. Breakfast felt like relationship. Her feet were getting colder and colder as the minutes ticked by. It was time to just lay it on the line, as gently as possible, and if she could keep him from realizing just how much he affected her, she could probably do it. She took a step closer to him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Ethan.”

  His eyes searched hers, and he stepped closer too. “I’d ask if you’re hungry, but tha
t’s not it, is it?”

  She felt winded then. He knew exactly where she was going with it. Damn, how’d he get so good at reading her in such a short time? “Look, Ethan…I had a great time last night. I really did. But…”

  He placed his index finger on her lips to quiet her. “You’re going to give me some kind of song and dance about how we shouldn’t get involved, and you’re going to try to give me the whole counselor-patient bullshit again…which, I’ll remind you, we already resolved. Then you’re going to tell me that, even aside from that, it’s not healthy for me in my fragile state…or something like that.” Jenna had no response for him, because he’d practically pulled every single syllable out of her mouth. “Right?” She just nodded, and he placed his hands on her shoulders. “Well, those reasons aren’t good enough for me to stay away, and if those are the only lame reasons you can come up with, they’re unacceptable.”

  Her breathing was shallow as she considered him. Okay, okay…so those reasons were lame and really only masked the real reasons why she didn’t want to get involved with him. But she couldn’t find the words until Ethan said, his voice quiet, “Why don’t you tell me why you’re really afraid?”

  She found her voice and shook her head. “I can’t.” She wasn’t going to say a word, but she was starting to see him through new eyes. He felt supportive and sweet, and she never would have guessed that before their kiss a few weeks ago.

  “You can. Didn’t I tell you we can do this together? I promised, didn’t I?” She nodded again. “Then why don’t you tell me about it over breakfast.”

  She couldn’t find a way to argue with him and instead just nodded, aware of how she’d started feeling calmer since he’d moved his arms completely around her body. Why did he feel so right when she knew he was nothing but wrong?

  Chapter Eighteen

  GOD…ETHAN HAD to quit staring. He’d managed to talk her into breakfast, even though she had been reluctant about it. There was something bothering her, but he couldn’t figure out what it was. He was going to have to pry it out of her.

  He didn’t understand what it could be. Last night had been pretty close to perfect.

  So, as they were waiting for the waitress to bring their breakfast, Jenna sipped on her coffee, and Ethan pondered how he was going to broach the subject. Well, there was no delicate way to just ask, and he needed to know. He waited until Jenna made eye contact with him, and then he said, “So…what’s bothering you?” He lowered his voice and leaned in closer. “Last night was pretty fuckin’ incredible…and I know you felt it too. So what’s going on? Did I say or do something to give you second thoughts? What’s up with that?”

  Her eyes drifted downwards to his shirt, then down to the table. She was considering his words, but he got the feeling that she would say something if he waited. She just had to find a way to word it. She inhaled a deep breath and looked at him again. Her voice was soft and her eyes bright. Christ, she had no idea what she was doing to him. He was just shy of being completely smitten. Her auburn hair was pulled into a ponytail, adding to her look of innocence, but Ethan could tell she was about to lay some heavy shit on him. “Do you remember the first night we met…in group? Remember when I told you everyone there was broken?” He nodded, afraid of breaking her focus. “I meant me too.”

  He looked in her eyes for a few seconds and then said, “You really seem to have your shit together. I find it hard to believe you’re broken.”

  She let out a breath of air and looked down at her hands. “Well, thanks. That says something. I guess that means I’m a hell of an actress.”

  Ethan reached around her coffee cup and took her hand. “No, that means you’re stronger than you think.”

  “Thanks, but…” Her voice trailed off.

  “But what?”

  She shook her head. “I feel like a big faker.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m just pretending. I don’t feel strong at all.”

  Ethan chuckled and squeezed her hand, then let go. “Maybe you don’t feel strong, but you are. Give yourself some credit.”

  She tried to smile and said, “How would you know?”

  “I know.” When she looked at him again, he said, “Why don’t you tell me about it?”

  “I don’t know…”

  “Listen, you’ve heard a lot of my shit.” He raised his eyebrows. “I’m not going to think less of you, no matter what you tell me.”

  She looked skeptical, but she finally nodded her head. “Okay. I can tell you some.” She swallowed, and Ethan wondered if she was going to change her mind. She rubbed her eyebrows and then looked at him again, and he could tell she was trying to smile…it just wasn’t working. “I’ve never picked the right guy. Ever. Not once. And maybe it started that way just because I wanted any excuse to get out of the house. My family’s…not so nice, and so I didn’t care who the guy was, just so long as he’d keep me away for as long as possible. Anyway, two years ago, just after I finished up my Master’s degree, I started dating this guy. He was a bartender. That should have been my first clue, I suppose, but he’d always been funny and charming, and he was cute too. So…the day I had to defend my thesis, right after, I went to the bar and had a few shots. He asked me out that night, and we started dating right after.

  “He was nice at first. Really, he was. He’d buy me flowers and take me out to dinner. But…it wasn’t long before he started treating me like shit. He didn’t lay a hand on me, but it wasn’t what he’d say so much as the way he said it. Well, that’s not exactly true either. He said a lot of not-so-nice things.

  “It wasn’t even noticeable at first. It was subtle, you know, and I was in so deep and didn’t even realize what was going on. I was counseling people, right, giving them advice on what they should do with their lives, helping them get a handle on their relationships, and I was living a lie. What he did, though, was so…insidious, I couldn’t see the forest for the trees. Not until the night that woke me up.” She was looking at the table. Ethan could tell by the way she rapidly blinked her eyes that she was having a hard time saying what was on her mind. Maybe she wasn’t going to say anything, but he wanted to be quiet, to encourage her in case she found a way to get the words out of her mouth.

  She inhaled deeply and let it out. She swallowed, still avoiding Ethan’s eyes. Her voice was soft, but she said, “I guess, in a way, it’s a good thing that it happened, because otherwise I don’t know that I would have gotten myself out of the situation.” She looked at Ethan for just a moment and then looked back down. “He…uh…”

  The waitress stopped by their table. “More coffee?”

  Ethan kept his eyes on Jenna but slid his cup toward the waitress. Jenna looked over at her and said, “Yes, please.” Ethan just hoped the interruption wouldn’t stop Jenna from talking about something she obviously needed to let go of…because whatever it was was stopping her from living her life fully, and whether or not she wanted Ethan in her life, she needed to move past whatever it was that was eating at her.

  * * *

  “Your breakfast should be ready any minute.” And off the waitress went, leaving Jenna wondering just how much she really wanted to tell the man across from her. She managed to look at him again, though, and he had that look on his face she’d seen from him so many times before—the one that told her he felt some connection with her.

  “You don’t have to tell me if it’s too hard.”

  Somehow, his words made her want to tell him. Really, there was no reason not to; there was no reason to hide anything from him. It wasn’t like he was going to betray her confidence and tell the world about her troubles, and even if he did, it wouldn’t make her past any better or worse than it had been. In fact, she suspected her past had changed her much like Ethan’s own past had changed him. It had made them both stronger. She trusted him and knew he would understand.

  So she swallowed and poured creamer in her fresh coffee, nodding her head. “It was…a couple of year
s ago…in the spring. We’d been together close to a year. I’d...uh…gone to a friend’s bachelorette party. We’d been drinking a lot, and she had some guys come to the party…maybe as a last farewell. I don’t know. But we were laughing and dancing and anyway, he showed up, wanting to pick me up. I guess he thought we’d been partying too long.”

  Jenna ran her hand over her forehead, remembering the moment. “I guess I should back up a little. This was after almost an entire year of him slowly taking over my life…and me just letting him. Him telling me what to do, how to dress, how to act, and his methodical way of eroding my self-esteem and sense of worth. It had gotten to where I’d cower inside any time I thought I’d displeased him or made him upset, and yet he’d never physically done anything to inspire that reaction.

  “Well, it turned out I should have been afraid. When he got there, he was just as nice as could be, kissing my friend on the cheek and laughing and joking with the other girls there, but I could sense how angry he was. There was just something subtle in his body language that gave it away…maybe not to anyone else, but I could tell. He was pissed.

  “So we got in the car to head home, and it was deathly silent. That was what confirmed it. Not a word. But I could see it on his face; every time we passed a street light and it shined in the car, I could see it. He was going to give me a long lecture when we got home, and I was dreading it.

  “Still…we got home and he was quiet. I was starting to feel even more scared.” And, she noticed, her hands were shaking a little as she related the story to Ethan. She took a deep breath, trying to pull herself out of the moment. She had to remind herself that she wasn’t there anymore. She had escaped. Still, he had scarred her deeply, and she was still coping with the aftermath.

  No, that wasn’t true. She’d never fully coped with it, never faced her feelings. She’d instead buried it all. So it felt somewhat fresh, but she noticed as she continued her story, that part of her felt relieved to be able to tell someone, someone who cared. She looked up at Ethan again as her lips parted. His eyes were tender, gentle, and full of understanding. She could tell he would have been all right had she chosen to not say another word, but he was going to listen if she wanted to finish. “It got to where I couldn’t stand his silence anymore. He was just sitting on the couch, his jaw clenched, staring ahead, smoking a cigarette. I sat next to him on the couch and touched his arm. Yeah, that was more confirmation. He was pissed. So…I did what I’d always done in that situation. I wanted to mollify him, smooth things over.” Just like she’d always done with her dad when he was on an alcoholic rampage…but she wasn’t going to tell Ethan about that. Absolutely not. She was sharing plenty already. “I asked him what was wrong. He said, ‘You know exactly what’s wrong, Jenna.’ I assured him I did not. And then…”