On Paper

by Shae Scott

  “Of course I want you,” I said, my voice low and thick. And fuck, I meant every word. The thought of losing her was enough to bring me to my knees. Didn’t she see that?

  “Then why? Why are we here? Why are we losing us? What happened? I watched you, it’s like you just disappeared. And after this weekend I thought—I thought we’d found our way back and then it was like you just shut down on me again,” she said, her honesty ripped through me and I gripped her tighter.

  I didn’t have the answer, not one that was anything more than me admitting that I was a weak son of a bitch. How could I explain it when I couldn’t even wrap my head around it?

  I clung to her, her name falling from my lips over and over in quick succession. Tears stung my eyes and I could no longer keep them from falling. I felt broken. I hated myself for what I was doing to her. I could feel the rage building deep in my chest, only to be outdone by my need to take her pain away. She trembled in my arms, I felt her breaking. We broke together, the armor gone, the truth heavy around us. It pulled me down and we sunk to the cold tile floor still wrapped in each other. She began to cry against me, and I kissed her forehead, her cheek, anywhere I could, desperate to try and soothe her.

  “I’m sorry. Quinn, I’m sorry. I’ll fix it. I will. Don’t give up on me. I’ll find a way to fix it. I want you. I want us. I want it so much. I just don’t know how to do it. I keep fucking everything up. But you have to know, you are everything to me. Everything. Don’t give up on me.”

  She pressed her face to my chest and I smoothed her hair with my fingers, cradling her in my lap.

  “I don’t want to lose us,” she said softly.

  “I’m not going anywhere,” I said, trying to reassure her with my words, even though my actions had done nothing but add to her doubts. I had let her down and I hated it.

  We sat on that cold hard floor for a long time. Soaking up every part of each other that we could. We were both bruised and battered and the idea of getting on a plane to go home later was nearly too much to take.

  Finally, I carried her back to bed and we lay together, side by side staring up at the ceiling. I held her hand, and felt her skin against my arm, but she didn’t roll into me and I didn’t pull her close. I think we were both afraid. Too fragile, too afraid, too lost.

  I squeezed her hand and I heard her sniffle beside me.

  I had to fix it.

  I had to find my way back.

  I wasn’t ready to call it quits yet.

  I just wasn’t ready to go all in.

  WATCHING KEATON LEAVE left me with a heavy heart. The last few hours of his visit had overshadowed everything that had happened before and it felt like we were living someone else’s story. I had no idea what to expect and it left me feeling uneasy.

  It felt good to have gotten my worries out there, to have him reassure me. But it hadn’t put anything to rest. Nothing had been solved. He was still working his way through it. And since I’d asked him to be honest with me I had no choice but to go along and continue to be patient.

  Love was hard. It was no wonder he didn’t want any part of it. I was starting to think that maybe he had the right idea.

  THE ROAD TO hell is paved with good intentions.

  You can want to change. You can want to fix things and make it right. You can want to go back and put everything back in order and find that perfect peace you had before you turned it all to shit.

  That had been my plan. That had been the promise that I made to Quinn. The promise I’d made to myself. I wanted to fix it. I did. The fact that I had no fucking clue how to do it filled me with an anger I wasn’t used to. I didn’t recognize myself anymore.

  I was over it.

  I was trying to be someone I wasn’t so that I could be with this girl. Because she made me feel like I could be someone better. There was no better though. It was what it was. I wasn’t going to change. I’d spent too many years living this truth, so to ask me to redefine everything now, on a whim over some flighty emotion like love was asinine.

  But I’d meant what I said. I wanted her. I wanted her like I’d wanted no one else. She owned me. She had me in every way I could be had. But she wanted more and that was where I just couldn’t take the step. That’s the part that had me all tied up in desperation and had me stumbling around like a goddamned fool.

  I wanted to be the asshole who didn’t care if she loved me. Who didn’t care if she got hurt along the way. I wanted to forget all about the stakes and just enjoy her. Why couldn’t I just enjoy her?

  I felt a little bit like a frog. Stay with me. You throw a frog in a pot of boiling water and he jumps the fuck out of there. He knows better than to hop his happy ass into something he can’t get out of. But you take that same frog and you put him in a happy bath of cool, refreshing water and let him hang out and enjoy the atmosphere while you slowly turn up the heat little by little…he’s never going to realize that he’s toast. Not until it’s too late.

  I was a happy little frog.

  It was turning me into the worst version of myself.

  To make matters worse the only connection I had to the one thing I was supposed to be fighting for were long distance phone calls with someone who sounded a lot like a stranger. She wasn’t the same girl I’d left. She had her guard up so high now I wasn’t sure I’d ever get past it again. I guess I deserved it. Hell, this was Quinn we were talking about. She didn’t do anything without a notarized letter saying it was all going to turn up rosy.

  Then again, she’d taken a chance on me. She’d jumped right in, no questions asked. Even when it got hard she’d pushed through. It was like we’d switched roles. Quinn, the girl with all the rules and reservations had been happy to jump in and take a risk while all I wanted to do was sit on the sidelines and plan out uncertain futures.

  I was angry and irritable and instead of fixing it I took it out on the one person who I was supposed to be reassuring. When she called while I was writing, I picked a fight. When she told me about her day and the resume she’d sent out, I acted like a dick and only halfway listened. When she asked if I was okay I snapped at her and told her to stop nagging me. When she told me I was being moody, I asked her if she was on her period.

  I was an asshole. Because it was the one thing I knew how to be.

  But then she would get quiet. So quiet that I could almost hear her stacking up the bricks that would shut me out. If she had a stack of chances I was carelessly running through them, testing her limits and essentially writing my own ending.

  It was the quiet that made me panic. It made my heart race and my skin heat and I knew the only thing that could calm it was to feel her skin against my own and lose myself in her. A craving and a need that sent me straight back to square one. I needed her. I needed her with a desperation that I couldn’t even put into words. It was so strong and so fierce that it had manifested into something ugly. I needed her and I was so close to losing her that it scared me still. If I could feel her then maybe I could find my center. Maybe I could set it right again. I needed the connection, to feel that we were one with each other. I needed her heartbeat against my own to remind me that I wasn’t crazy. I felt fucking crazy.

  Only there was no chance to hold her. No chance to make it right. And I was losing my fucking mind.

  She was supposed to meet me in Seattle. I had some business there and I’d convinced her to meet me so we could spend some time together. We’d planned it out months ago, a way to get away and unwind and relax. It was supposed to be a chance for me to show her a city that had been on her wish list. Now I was sure that we needed it more than ever before.

  I stared out of my hotel window, my stomach in knots as I thought about her arrival. I longed to see her, to hold her. I felt a desperate need to be in the same space. Desperate to have her in my arms, to feel that physical connection that would calm my heart. At the same time, I was more nervous than I could ever remember being, knowing it was all up to me. It was time to put up or shut
up.

  “SO YOU’RE STILL going?” Lily asked as I rolled my suitcase into the living room.

  “Yeah, I kind of have to,” I said.

  She gave me a sad smile. She’d watched me going through a wave of emotions these past few weeks and it was hard for her. I think she felt a little guilty knowing that she’d pushed me to take a chance when I’d wanted to dig my heels in.

  “Don’t give me that sad doom and gloom look,” I teased trying to lighten her mood. “We’re fine. These things happen. You just don’t know because you hit the road before you have to deal with it,” I smiled. She laughed, giving me a shove.

  “If that’s the case I think I’ll keep it up,” she said.

  “He’s a good man,” I said. “I wouldn’t trade a moment with him. He’s given me more life and more happiness since I’ve known him than I ever had before. I love him. It’s as easy as that.”

  She leaned in and gave me a hug. “Have fun, sweetie. Knock him off his feet.”

  By the time the plane touched down I had given myself four different pep talks, each one with a different plan of attack. Forget the drama and go in like nothing happened. Go in and feel him out and play your hand accordingly. Go in with your guard up and don’t let him in, freeze him out if need be. Or finally, go in with no plan at all and just hope for the best.

  I took a cab to the hotel because Keaton had a meeting and wasn’t sure he’d be out in time to pick me up at the airport. It was fine. It gave me more time to pull myself together. More than anything, I just wanted to see him. I could hardly even picture his face.

  After collecting my key at the front desk I made my way up to the room. I’d barely unlocked the door when it was flung open and I was in his arms. He barely gave me time to react before he was spinning me around and then leaning me back into a kiss.

  The instant his lips covered mine it was as if the ice surrounding my heart had begun to melt. I tentatively moved my arms around his neck and held on as he moved his lips across mine tasting me like this kiss alone might bring him back to life.

  Finally, he set me back up on my shaky feet. “Hi,” he said shyly.

  “Hi yourself,” I laughed still reeling from his surprise attack.

  “I really missed you,” he said and the sincerity in his voice caught me off guard. It made me realize just how guarded I’d let myself become.

  “Me too. How did your meeting go?” I asked.

  He frowned, “I don’t want to talk about my meeting. Come in,” he said. He took the suitcase from my hands and rolled it away, parking it out of the way. I moved around the room taking in the space. When he came up behind me, running his lips across the back of my neck I tensed for just a moment before relaxing. I knew he felt it because he pulled back just a bit. I hated the reaction, it felt so foreign. It reminded me that there was still so much left unsettled between us.

  “How about a drink?” he suggested and I felt him step back completely, leaving a chill with his absence. I shrugged out of my jacket and put it on the chair and made my way over to the giant picture window overlooking the city. I couldn’t get my nerves to settle.

  Keaton came up behind me with two tumblers of amber liquid and handed me one. I took a sip hoping it might do the trick. I hated feeling so out of sorts, it didn’t feel like us and I hated it. I knew it was me this time. He was trying; I was the one shutting him out.

  “Thanks. I must still have the travel jitters,” I said with a smile. He gave me a soft laugh, letting me know he didn’t believe me at all, but he was going to let it go. “It’s a great view,” I said returning back to the window. I felt him move in behind me, his body close enough to mine that I could feel his exhale of breath. I closed my eyes at the warmth on the back of my neck. My heart ached for him, but my stomach twisted with the uncertainty that I had brought with me. I heard him set his glass down on the table and then his hands were there on my hips, pulling me against him.

  He dropped his head, running his mouth across my neck, breathing me in as he went. I tilted my head, allowing him better access. He felt too good, the familiar touch bringing all of my hope to the surface.

  “I’ve missed the feel of your body,” he said, his voice low against my ear as he let one hand drift up my body to cup my breast. I instinctively arched into him. “I am desperate to touch you, to be inside you. I need to be lost in you, Quinn.”

  God, his voice, his words sent flames throughout my body. I would always respond to him, I would always be connected to him this way. I would always want him. It would always be easy to lose myself in his touch. He was too good at it. It overwhelmed me.

  He took the glass that was still in my hand and then turned me to face him. My entire body was humming with the familiar need to have him, to do just what he’d suggested, to get lost. His mouth found mine and he kissed me slow and deep as his arms wrapped around me. Shit, he could kiss. My body was ready to surrender, but my brain was still struggling.

  “Keaton,” I breathed out, pulling back. I needed air. I had to have air to think. Part of me worried about just rushing into bed just to try and put an end to the awkwardness. It felt like a band-aid. A very nice, toe curling band-aid, but still a temporary fix. I was terrified of ending up the way we had during our last visit.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked. His eyes were full of fire and need as he pushed me into the glass wall at my back. I felt the ache between my thighs grow stronger at the thought of what he could do to me against it.

  “I just. I need a minute. I was hoping we could just ease back into this. I’m still feeling a little --.” I let the sentence hang, not quite sure how to describe what I was feeling. I just wanted to do this right.

  “Are you serious right now?” he asked. I could hear the annoyance in his voice and I bit down on my lip nervously. “Fuck, I can’t believe you.” He stepped away from me and ran his hands through his hair. “You need a minute? You feel a little what? Jesus, Quinn, you don’t even want me to touch you? I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

  “It’s just we’ve not really been in the best place. I need a minute to readjust,” I said.

  He stared me down for a moment and then shook his head. “Fine, readjust. I’ll be in the shower.” He turned and left. I heard the door to the bathroom slam and it made me jump. That hadn’t gone well.

  I stood frozen in place completely unsure what to do next.

  Maybe I should have stayed home after all.

  I took a seat on the couch and waited, lost in my thoughts and worries. If this is how we were starting I didn’t have much hope for the weekend. I didn’t have much hope left for any of it.

  When he came out he was dressed and carrying his jacket. “Let’s go get some dinner,” he said. I looked up from my spot on the couch, waiting for him to talk about what had happened, but he didn’t. He was still mad. Awesome.

  He stayed quiet as we headed downstairs on the elevator. I could feel the tension rolling off of him. I followed close behind as we made our way out the front doors where the valet waited to call for our rental car. There was drizzle hanging in the air and we crouched under the awning trying to avoid the mist. Honestly, I just wanted to go back upstairs.

  A few minutes later we were in the car and weaving through traffic. I glanced over at my boyfriend, looking broody and unfairly handsome. “Are you going to talk to me?” I asked, my patience starting to fade.

  He met my eyes and gave me a sarcastic smile, “I’m going to need a minute,” he said. I sighed, sitting back in my seat and stared out the window. How could he not understand what I was saying? He was letting his stupid boy ego get in the way of listening at all.

  “I’m really not all that hungry,” I said. I wasn’t paying attention so it surprised me when he cut the wheel into a parking spot at the last minute and slammed on his brakes. My entire body flew forward with my seatbelt. “What the hell?”

  I looked over at him and he sat with his eyes closed and his fingers pinching the bridge of his n
ose. “What do you want from me, Quinn? I’m trying to make this night into something and you keep shutting me down. Tell me what you want,” he said.

  “Well for starters you could pretend you actually want me here,” I said.

  He turned his glare to me. “I’m sorry, were you upstairs with me earlier? Were you there when I told you how much I missed you and how I couldn’t wait to be inside your body? What part of that had you thinking I didn’t want you here? Because I’m pretty sure it was you who sent me away to take a cold shower, Quinn.”

  “You said you wanted to fix this,” I said quietly.

  His eyes narrowed on me and I felt my heart pound in my chest as I heard his even exhale. The one that let me in on the fact that he was not happy. The one that said he was holding back a mountain of frustration and I was about to push him right over the edge. But damn if I didn’t feel like pushing.

  “What do you think I’m trying to do? You won’t let me fix it. Hell, what is it we are even trying to do? We keep making some huge deal out of fixing something that we don’t even remember what’s broken. I feel like I’m in a goddamn hamster wheel. Can’t I just be with you and not have to answer for every emotion? Why do we have to define everything? Shit. I’ve been busting my ass trying to make you happy and all I’m doing is losing myself. You want to know why we need fixing? It’s because we let this whole thing get too big. We started trying to make it into some big, epic story. It’s just real life, Quinn. Why can’t we just let it be real life?”

  “You think I don’t want real life?” I asked.

  “I think you want a fairytale. I think I’ve been trying my best to figure out how to give you one, but it’s hard to give you something that doesn’t exist. I’m nobody’s prince charming. Not even yours.”

  I felt the tears begin to pool.

  “I never asked for a fairytale. Ever,” I said my voice cracking.

  “Didn’t you? When you told me you loved me? When you waited for me to figure out how to say it back? When you put up with my shit these past few weeks? Wasn’t that you asking? You can’t tell me that you are okay going along like this forever,” he said.