by C. M. Owens
“Thought you just got single,” she tells him.
Jealousy really does taste like shit. In case you’re wondering.
Chase ignores her as he stands and makes his way to me, and I stand up while coming around the side of the receptionist desk. When he reaches me, he surprises me by pulling me to him and kissing me in front of everyone like he’s making a statement… or laying claim.
A couple of whistles sound out, and Chase pulls away while winking.
“Trust me. You needed that if you wanted to walk out of here without one of them asking you for your number,” he whispers.
I don’t say anything, because my lips are refusing to work with words. When did we reach the level of kissing hello?
“Next,” Chase says while handing the girl a bag of something. She takes it, and I stare at the shop name and logo on the bag while she frowns and looks me over.
Chasing Ink.
In the background, there’s an eagle’s eye, and my heart swells a little bit. Things like that are the reason I’m having issues right now.
“Here’s my money, honey,” one of the guys chuckles as he hands Chase a small wad of cash.
When I ignore the girl long enough, she finally stops staring at me and walks out. I go back behind the counter and sit on the stool.
“I hope you shaved your hairy fucking chest so I don’t have to,” Chase tells the guy, confusing me.
“Yes, darling, I did,” the guy drawls.
Chase rolls his eyes, but he smiles over at me while walking toward the register I’m in front of. When he steps behind the counter, I swivel on my stool to give him room, and he pushes a few buttons until the register drawer pops out and he puts the money in. He also grabs a few dollars like he’s making change.
When he’s finished and shuts the drawer, he reaches over and thumbs my chin, winking at me again. “You were sleeping peacefully when I left. I have the impression you don’t do that often, so I didn’t want to wake you up just to say bye.”
Instead of saying something stupid, I just nod. At least I don’t feel like my skin is crawling anymore. I did what I had to do to silence the crazy, and now I can leave.
But I don’t.
I stay while he works tirelessly on that guy’s chest tattoo, and my eyes stay fixed on him. His intensity and focus are sexy, so is the way he shifts and moves. Never knew tattooing could be sexy.
After a couple of hours, he dabs the ink and the buzzing ceases. The guy on the chair looks down at the finished chest piece and back up to Chase.
“You’re too fucking good to be inking in this shithole town, boy. When you going to come to Montgomery?”
Chase smirks while shrugging. “Don’t know. I may or I may not. Depends on how things work out here.”
When his eyes meet mine, my mouth dries. He’s moving? Why hasn’t he told me? Big cities are strictly prohibited because of the special precautions I have to take. Only small trips are acceptable. Such as visiting Dr. Stein.
His look changes to confused when he studies me, but I look away, slipping off the stool. As the two guys talk to Chase, I tune them out, walking back to my car as my shoulders grow heavier.
This was stupid. Chase can’t be with me. I can’t be with him. This is a game of Russian roulette, but I’m the only one facing the gun with every turn. Not that Chase knows. He still thinks I’m the somewhat quirky, but otherwise normal girl from his past.
He has no idea at the hoops I have to jump through just to have a semi-normal life now. Three years ago, I finally got to start living on my own. I even celebrated something so small and insignificant to most people in their twenties.
Chase calls to me from the doorway, but I just turn and give a tight wave before getting in my car. I wish I could drive for a few hours, but I can’t do that. It’s not allowed. I’m not allowed to drive anywhere for longer than fifteen minutes.
Fifteen minutes exactly. Not a minute over. I can drive anything under fifteen minutes. Any longer, and it has to be someone else driving.
Shaking my head and forgetting the numbers, I back out and head back to my house, pulling out my phone as I turn into my driveway. There’s a phone call I’ve been avoiding.
Aidan hates me having a psychiatrist on call, but only because of the way Dr. Kravitz treated me. I was his favorite lab rat, and he put me on the hamster wheel like I was a science experiment instead of a person. Regardless of his cold and indifferent methods, he possibly saved my life at a much quicker rate than anyone else could have. But since I don’t need psychological boot camp anymore, I now have Dr. Stein, who is a gentle-spoken, very reserved woman who goes at the speed of a turtle with therapy sessions. It took my brother a long time to warm up to my new shrink. And even though she’s a psychiatrist, she doesn’t spoon out drugs. No drugs allowed.
“Dr. Stein’s office. This is Carol. How may I help you?”
“Carol, it’s Mika. I was wondering—”
“Mika, oh my gosh, we’ve been so worried about you. Are you okay? Did something happen? We haven’t been able to reach you or your brother.”
“I called and left my new number. I couldn’t keep my old one. The area code wouldn’t have matched the new residence.”
She grows quiet for a second. “I would have found that message, sweetie,” she says softly. “Is it possible you just think you left that message?”
It is possible, but I’d have to defer to my notes to find out for sure. Sometimes I accidentally write something in on one of my stories and confuse it for a real situation instead of the other way around like it’s intended for.
“Yes,” I say quietly.
“Okay, so I’ll patch you through to Dr. Stein. She’s been worried about you and told me to buzz her immediately if you called.”
The line goes quiet, and seconds later Dr. Stein is picking up. “Mika, it’s so good to hear from you.” The relief and warmth in her tone isn’t her typical clinical tone. It’s not allowed in her field to get too attached, but I know she’s attached to me. She hates Dr. Kravitz and his boot camp methods, and the pity she felt for what I’d suffered has made me special to her.
“Sorry I waited so long.”
“We agreed to speak regularly via phone and Skype, Mika. That was the deal, since I couldn’t find a qualified professional to deal with your particular case in that area that went with your fifteen minute driving limit.”
Blowing out a breath, I get out of the car and walk inside. We didn’t set estimated times. Just vague promises without definite timeframes.
“I know. I’m sorry. But I haven’t had any incidents at all. In fact, I accidentally dropped and broke a tray of glasses one day and I managed to pick them up and throw them away without mashing them to bits to make them the same size. I also haven’t had any issues with the bowling alley. Hunter handled it without giving me any timeframes, and I have two incredible managers who handle all the time slots, schedules, call-ins, and such. None of that gets relayed to me, just like you told me to do.”
More relief comes out in her breath, and I dread the next confession.
“I saw him. He’s not gone.”
Her breath hitches, and she clears her throat like she doesn’t want me to hear her reaction.
“Mika, I know you felt strongly about this man at one time, but don’t let your mind fool you into believing you can pick up where you left off. Emotions… They’re a trigger in your condition.”
This is why I love Dr. Stein. She doesn’t just ask me how does that make you feel even though she probably should.
“I’m not doing that. I wasn’t feeling like there was unfinished business between us,” I lie, but it’s not like I can be honest. She’d have Aidan remove me immediately. “I’ve killed him, married him, had his baby, and killed him some more over the years. The only thing that felt unfinished—still feels unfinished—is the bowling alley, but I don’t know why.”
She starts with the standard questions then, asking me what part feel
s unfinished. She goes on to ask me how I handle this feeling in a productive manner. And several other probing questions.
Finally, I get to the part I need her help on, because it’s not the bowling alley dilemma.
“I kissed him,” I whisper.
She goes deadly silent.
“He’s started staying over, but he sleeps on the couch. We haven’t had sex, so don’t worry. But I did feel like I had to see him today, and he might be moving to Montgomery.”
Montgomery is too big… There will be too many times. New York City was too hard. Too many times being displayed. Countdowns—so many fucking countdowns. Too many people talking about being late. I had to wear noise-cancelling headphones with my music cranked up to full blast—one song over and over and over and over…
“Mika, you shouldn’t have moved there so soon. This is a very tricky situation. You’re not ready for a relationship. It takes a strong sense of control at a level you haven’t mastered yet to handle a healthy relationship and your own health at the same time. Have you told him about all your rules and restrictions?”
Swallowing a lump in my throat, I sit down.
“No. He doesn’t even know anything about this part of me or the accident. He still thinks I’m the same girl I was twelve years ago.”
A harsh breath falls between her lips, and I hear her ink pen clicking furiously in the background.
“Why hasn’t your brother addressed this?”
“He’s not here currently, and this started after he left.”
“He left you alone in a new town this early?” she asks in a deceptively calm tone.
“He has a life, Dr. Stein. His sole duty isn’t to me. I’d never, ever allow that. I’d go back to boot camp hell before I let Aidan give up any piece of himself to help me. I’m handling things well.”
“You’re not handling things if you’re in a relationship with a man who isn’t aware of your restrictions and rules. Sex was once a coping mechanism for you, Mika. Just like cutting. Destructive coping mechanisms aren’t healthy and could trigger a relapse into other destructive coping mechanisms. You know this.”
With Chase, sex as a coping mechanism doesn’t sound destructive. I wouldn’t feel disgusted with myself. I’d love every second of it. But that doesn’t mean he would. Being with me means giving up a lot of things that most people overlook or take for granted.
“Mika, I have another patient to see, but I want you to call me soon if possible. Okay? After hours. Call my cell phone and we’ll discuss this more thoroughly. In the meantime, please refrain from seeing him. Maybe the two of you could come see me, and it’s possible we could start building a foundation for a future for you with him if he’s serious about his commitment to you.”
Sheesh. I just started seeing Chase. There’s no way he would drive to New York to meet her, find out I’m bat-shit crazy, and come home to start living by all my restrictions. She has to know that.
“I’ll call you tonight or tomorrow, Dr. Stein.”
“And refrain from seeing him?”
“You know I can’t give definitive answers like that when there are uncontrollable variables involved. It’s against my therapy.”
I feel her smile. “Good answer, Mika.”
Hanging up, I stare at the message on my phone Chase must have sent while I was talking with Dr. Stein.
CHASE: Not sure what just happened, but I’ll come over if you want me to after I finish up here.
ME: Not tonight.
Time to break a habit and deal with the consequences. Hope nothing important gets broken.
Chapter 29
CHASE
MIKA: Not tonight.
I’ve looked at that message for the past two days, waiting on it to magically turn into, yes please. It never does.
Cursing, I lock up my shop, wondering why she hasn’t called me in two days. Or messaged me. It feels like she’s fucking playing with me, but Mika wouldn’t do that. At least not the Mika I once knew. It’s stupid to believe she’s exactly the same after all these years though.
Pulling up to the bar, I groan, staring ahead and considering my options. Have a beer with Blake or go over to Mika’s house and surprise her so that she’s on the spot and has to tell me what’s going on.
She left my shop without a word, and acted like she had been struck or something. I thought it was the Montgomery remark, but that doesn’t make sense. I let it be known I was sticking around without actually saying it. I wasn’t ever really considering Montgomery to begin with. Moving to Bama doesn’t appeal to me, just like Tennessee didn’t. Just like South Carolina didn’t. Just like nowhere else in general did.
Hayden, as fucked up as it is, is the only place I feel like I can call home, and that’s because of summer. Even before she came back and I hated summer, it still only felt right to be here because of summer.
Blowing out a breath, I climb out of my truck and head inside. Blake is waiting at a table for me, and he motions for the waitress to bring me a drink.
“You look like shit,” he says as I sit down.
“You look like sunshine and roses, grease monkey,” I tell him, motioning to the smudges of oil all over his shirt and neck.
“Rough day,” he says with a shrug.
“Same here.”
Lifting my gaze, I spot Whit in the corner, having a drink with Jessie Logan. Both girls swing their eyes toward me at once, and Whit stands to walk this way.
“Glad to see you here. You can buy me a drink to make up for loving someone else while dating me,” she says with a lopsided grin. She’s drunk. Definitely drunk.
“You remember you fucked someone else, right? As in while we were together?” I remind her. “But yeah, I’ll buy you a drink.”
She laughs as she drops to the empty chair beside me, and Jessie comes to sit down beside Blake, giggling like she’s just as drunk as Whit.
“Not working tonight, I assume,” Blake says to Whit.
“Nope. I have two days off back-to-back and I’m going to enjoy them. I do have a question though.”
“What’s that?” Blake asks her, but she turns her eyes to me.
“What’s the deal with Mika? It’s been driving me crazy. She refuses to look at schedules, she refuses to hear about anyone who has called in, and she refuses to look over any of the numbers for the bowling alley even though they’re really good.”
I shrug, because I have no fucking idea.
“And why move here from New York and open that place up if you don’t care about it?” Jessie prods.
So they’ve been sitting around discussing Mika?
“Mika really likes you, Whit. You just going to talk shit about her with someone who doesn’t know her because you’re pissed at me?” I growl.
Whit’s eyes widen, and Jessie scoots closer to Blake as she cowers. A waitress comes over and drops off a drink for all four of us.
“Damn, Chase. You’re crazy protective. I wasn’t talking shit, asswipe. I like Mika. A lot. She’s good to me, and pays me more than I’m worth. But I am curious. Sheesh. Just asking logical questions.”
Her words aren’t slurring, but she’s struggling to wrap her lips around the straw in front of her. It slaps her nose and cheek twice before she finally manages to get it where it goes.
“I don’t have those answers. Even if I did, I wouldn’t give them to you. Ask Mika if you want to know.”
“I have asked her,” she groans.
Deciding not to entertain this conversation, I shift it to the new camping grounds. It’s a boring and safe conversation.
After guzzling down two more drinks, Whit can’t sit upright. I still have half a beer in front of me, and she’s draining those fruity drinks like there’s no tomorrow.
“You’re going to have to give me a ride,” she mumbles as she drops her head to my shoulder.
“Yeah, sort of figured that one out already,” I grumble.
Blake rolls his eyes when Jessie’s head collapses to hi
s lap, and he flips me off.
“What’d I do?”
“She wouldn’t be sitting here if you hadn’t dated Whit. Now I have a boner from an unconscious chick’s head.”
I huff out a laugh while slipping out of my chair, carefully picking up Whit. She wraps her arms around my neck, and I hold her behind the knees and back.
“I’ll get Jessie home,” Blake groans.
He’s had about as much to drink as me. Not fucking much at all.
The two of us carry them outside, and Whit nuzzles her head on my chest. I feel absolutely nothing. The only thing it makes me think about is how it feels when Mika touches me. It’s nothing even close to the same.
I never should have dated Whit. It wasn’t fair to her.
I should have gone over to Mika’s and talked to her, tried to figure out what was going on instead of meeting Blake.
Carefully, I unload Whit into my truck, and I walk around to the driver’s side. Whit leans against the door while fumbling with her seatbelt, finally getting it to click.
“Why are you drunk?” I ask her as I drive her to her apartment.
“Because getting drunk seemed like fun at the time. I was going to find a hot tourist boy, but none of them are as hot as Aidan.”
I almost laugh at that, and she slaps my arm. “He is hot. Really hot. He just doesn’t seem to want to talk to me. I’ve called him three times now.”
“He’s out of town, Whit.”
“What kind of guy is he? You know him, right? Because you’re in love with his sister.”
I don’t acknowledge that last part. “Never really talked to him while growing up. He was a typical rich douche. He usually had whatever latest tech gadget was out, and he was consumed by it or partying with the rich lake fuckers that came during the summer. He never seemed to really care about Mika. Guess he grew up, since he wants to keep me away from her. Seems overly concerned about her these days.”
“He doesn’t see the way you love her or he wouldn’t try to keep you away,” she sighs dreamily.
