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The Davis Years (Indigo)

Page 18

by Green, Nicole


  ***

  Jemma slipped out of bed early the next morning, not having been able to sleep well. She smiled down at Davis, touching the backs of her fingers to his cheek. He moaned, shifted slightly in the bed, but his eyes never opened.

  She was falling hard for him again and she knew that was bad. But was he really the same? Either way, she had to go to Florida. Her train ticket waited on her desk back at Mary’s place. Her job was in Jacksonville. So was her life now. Being with Davis might have felt right—especially after the night they had spent learning the secrets of each other’s bodies—but it was so very wrong. They’d only end up hurting each other in the end, even if it seemed like a good idea on the surface.

  She forced herself to turn away from him. She threw her hair into a haphazard ponytail with a rubber band she found on the top of the dresser, pulled on a pair of sweats she found in the corner of his room across from his bed. She shrugged on a t-shirt of Davis’s and headed out of the room.

  She went into to the kitchen to make a pot of life-giving coffee. She spied a head of black hair peering through the kitchen window in the next house. It had to be Ayn. As soon as Ayn saw she was spotted, she flitted away from the window and made a big show of moving pots and pans around as she zipped around the kitchen.

  Jemma laughed softly, shaking her head, before she turned away from the window. Then she heaved a heavy sigh as she thought of Davis upstairs. After last night, without either of them saying a word about it, she knew Davis knew the truth. He had to know that she wanted to stay more than she’d ever admit.

  She heard him walk in the moment she started brewing the coffee. He wrapped his arms around her and captured her with a kiss. He didn’t let go until they were back upstairs in the bathroom with the door shut behind them.

  “The coffee,” she managed to say between kisses.

  “It’ll be there when we’re done. You really care about coffee right now?” He murmured the words into her ear before teasing it with his tongue.

  “No.” She moaned the word long and slow against his lips.

  “Why did you let those people think we were a couple? At the vineyard?” He whispered against her throat.

  “Because I wanted it,” Jemma answered without thinking. His kisses had her defenses down.

  “I want it, too.” He lifted her onto the sink. After moving between her legs, he pressed his body to hers for a long moment, his face buried in her shoulder.

  After a very long, hot shower, they stood in front of the mirror that was above the sink, wearing only beige towels.

  Davis grinned and pressed his cheek to hers. They stared at their reflections staring back at them.

  “Tell me what you see.” He kissed her shoulder while watching her reflection in the mirror.

  She laughed. “What?”

  “Just tell me. Play along.”

  “Okay. I see this really hot guy I had a crush on in high school, only his eyes are different now. He’s seen a lot in the six years since I left him here.”

  “And what about the girl?” He put his hands on her shoulders. She put hers on top of his.

  “She’s smiling with her lips, but her eyes are uncertain. She wants to be happy but she’s afraid.”

  “Why’s she afraid?”

  “Because she knows . . . that nothing good can stay,” Jemma said, quoting her favorite Frost poem, her voice barely above a whisper. Neither reflection smiled now. Davis spun her to face him and sat her on the sink.

  “I hate that I hurt you.” His arms went around her waist.

  She looked away from those burning blue eyes. “I know. We don’t live in a perfect world. People get hurt. Wounds make us wary—perhaps too cautious for our own good. Anyway, that’s life.”

  “What would your perfect world be like, Jemma?”

  The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. “You would have always loved me. We’d have gone to Penn together. You would have taken the lacrosse team to the national championship every year and you’d say you couldn’t do it without me. We’d have gotten married right after graduation. I would have had a huge, poofy, ridiculous dress and a million bridesmaids—my sorority sisters. We’d be pregnant by now. And—it would just be normal and not complicated to love you with all of my heart.”

  He kissed her temple. “You’ve thought about this a lot.”

  Embarrassed, Jemma nodded. “I used to think about it all the time.”

  “Me, too.”

  “And what do you see?”

  He pressed his forehead to hers. “You. Just you. In fact, this could be my perfect world right here, right now.”

  “My heart’s always been filled with you. For what it’s worth.” She couldn’t stop betraying herself for some reason.

  His forehead moved to her cheek. “I’m filled with so much love for you that sometimes I think it’s gonna kill me not to be with you. You know. For what it’s worth.”

  Jemma swallowed hard against all the things rushing up inside her. She thought back to those last few horrible days in Derring before she’d run away. She’d promised herself. Never again. She’d promised to not so much as take a chance.

  “I never gave up on hoping you’d come back to me,” he said.

  “Don’t do this. Please.”

  “I know I don’t deserve you, but you’re all I want.”

  “I’m going to Florida. I can’t stay here.” She pushed against his chest so that he’d back up and give her the space she needed.

  “You’re all that’s best about me. You’ve always been.” He reached for her hand.

  She hopped off of the sink and turned away from him. “We can’t work together. We’re too screwed up for that. We’d never be able to give each other what we need.”

  “I can’t think of anything I could ever need that doesn’t include you.” Davis started toward her and she walked out of the bathroom. He followed, calling after her. “I think two broken halves can still make a whole. I need you to believe that, too.”

  Turning to face him, she avoided his eyes. “We’re bad for anybody, but we’re especially bad for each other. There’s nothing you can say or do to change my mind about that.”

  All of the color and life drained out of Davis’s face. “This is too much like before.”

  “Well, that’s because as much as we don’t want it to be, ‘before’ will always be there. Davis, we both need to move on from that. And we can’t do it together.”

  “You still hate me for what I did, don’t you? I’ll never be able to fix that, will I?” Something changed in Davis’s face. It seemed to shut down somehow.

  “I don’t hate you, Davis. And it was no one’s fault.” She crossed her arms over her chest and concentrated on the dark colored carpet in the hallway.

  “You know what? Go ahead, Jemma. Run away. Again. It’s what you’re good at. I don’t give a damn.”

  “Same old jerk, huh? See? You see what I mean? This is what I was just talking about.” She looked up, almost relieved to see the Davis standing there who would allow her to walk away. Good, he was proving her right by not trying to be reasonable. He refused to see that she was trying to do what was best for both of them.

  Davis didn’t say another word to her. He stormed off to his room. He yanked off his towel and threw clothes out of the dresser until he found what he wanted. She stood in the hallway with her arms still crossed over her chest, fighting tears, forcing herself to stay put, and not go running after him when he stormed down the stairs.

  Chapter 24

  Davis walked out of his room after grabbing his wallet and keys. He refused to look at her even though she stood in the hall and he felt her stare as he walked past. He jogged down the stairs and slammed the front door behind him. He knew it was his fault. He’d caused that morning to happen by being an idiot six years earlier when she needed him more than anything. That hurt the most. There was nothing left. Nothing left to do. Nothing left at all.

  He hadn�
��t packed anything. He didn’t know where he was going anyway. The only thing he cared about was getting away from there.

  He didn’t look back to see if she’d followed him outside. Didn’t want to know. He got into the car and jammed the key into the ignition. The engine roared to life and he tore out of the driveway.

  Driving with his head slumped against the driver’s side window, he tried to start thinking rationally again.

  “How did I screw things up so bad?” He had to laugh at himself. “I have the worst timing in the world or I’m an idiot. Or both.”

  He sat up straight. He slammed his fist into the dashboard so hard that he thought for a moment that he’d broken his hand. He pulled his hand back, shaking it gingerly. He was losing her again and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it.

  Davis didn’t realize where he was headed until he saw the signs for 95 North. Then it was clear. He was going to the only person who would understand and help him put the pieces in order again. The only person who ever had. Maybe he should marry her. If Jemma could choose pragmatism over passion, he could, too. Maybe she was on to something.

  He grabbed his phone from the passenger seat.

  Codie answered on the first ring. “Hey, Davis.”

  “I’m headed up there.”

  Stunned silence. And then, “Why?”

  “Because she’s going to Florida. I can’t stop her. She won’t stay for me, Codie. And it’s all my fault.”

  “Oh, Davis. What time do you think you’ll be here?”

  Davis floored it and passed a long line of cars before flipping back over to the middle lane. “At this rate, hopefully by seven.”

  “I’ll see you soon, then.”

  ***

  Jemma concentrated on packing her things so she could get out. She’d left more and more of her stuff at his house during the time she’d spent there since the wedding. No more of that. Oh well. She knew she’d made the right choice. Davis was too much of a danger. Too much of an uncertainty. So why did she feel so horrible?

  She stuffed dirty clothes along with clean ones into her bag. She threw a pair of sneakers in. And then she grabbed a threadbare t-shirt. The same t-shirt that she had pressed her face into days ago lying in the same bed at which she stared. She threw the t-shirt across the room, knocking over his lamp.

  Emily Rose raised her eyebrows. “Good arm, Jemma.”

  Jemma sank to the floor and stared at her unzipped bag with clothes spilling over the top of it. She’d called Emily Rose to come pick her up since Davis had stranded her there by taking off in his car.

  Emily Rose put her hand on Jemma’s shoulder. “Maybe I was wrong last night. I don’t know. Seeing you like this . . . I’m sorry if I said something that led to this disaster.”

  “No, Em Rose. This is my very own disaster of my very own making.” For so many reasons, that was true. Jemma zipped her bag and stood up.

  “Ready to get outta here?”

  Jemma nodded.

  “Florida, huh?” Emily Rose asked as she headed for the door.

  Jemma shrugged, kicking at the carpet with her big toe.

  “You don’t seem as excited about it as you’ve been since you got here.”

  Jemma stared at Emily Rose for a moment before she realized that there was no point in not being completely honest. She wasn’t about to start building that wall between herself and Emily Rose again. “Sometimes I don’t think I’m cut out for this life I’ve chosen for myself.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “The more I try to make things right, the more everything just falls apart. Nothing makes sense anymore. What’s the point? Of anything? At all?”

  “Wow. Debbie Downer to the thousandth degree.”

  Jemma let out a choked sound. She wasn’t sure if it was sob or laugh. Maybe it was a little bit of both. “It’s true.”

  “You have to do what you think is best. And maybe you’re right. Maybe you can’t start over by staying here. So go to Florida if that’s what you have to do to be happy. You’ll make the right decision. I know you will because you’re strong, Jemma.”

  “It doesn’t take much strength to run away.” Jemma remembered Davis’s words to her before he’d stormed out of the house that morning.

  “But it takes a whole lot of strength to come back. Even more to admit you were wrong. And this time, when you leave, you’re not running if you’re going for the right reasons.”

  Jemma smiled. “I’m so glad I got you back.”

  “Me, too.” Emily Rose laughed and walked over to hug her. Jemma slumped against her friend, trying to ignore the pang of emptiness she felt full force.

  ***

  Davis sank into Codie’s overstuffed couch and pulled his knees into his chest. The right one screamed in protest, but he barely noticed. The screaming in his heart was much louder.

  “I can’t love her this much. How can I still be alive and hurt this much?” He shook his head.

  “Love is cruel that way,” Codie said, sitting next to him on the couch. She pushed her brown hair away from her face. Codie was pretty enough with her shoulder-length hair newly layered and her large brown eyes. She was such a small thing, too. Adorable. But she was no Jemma. Nobody ever would be.

  “That’s all? No words of wisdom? No scolding? That’s all you’re going to say about it?”

  Codie spread her hands wide and smiled. “That’s all I got for you.”

  Davis looked down at the carpet. “Codie, you ever think about you and me?”

  “You and me what?” Codie sounded confused, but Davis didn’t look up to see the expression that went with that tone.

  “Well, you know, as more than friends?”

  She laughed and put a hand on his back. “You’re talking crazy talk. I know you’re hurting right now, so I won’t hold it against you.”

  “I could use a drink.” He sighed and let his feet drop back to the floor. He forced away the grimace he felt coming on and managed to keep his face smooth.

  “You drinking a lot these days?” Codie asked. Davis noted the sadness in her voice.

  “Just sometimes,” he said, sparing her. “No, not a lot.” She didn’t need to know the truth. He’d done this to himself. It was his job to bear the burden of his mistakes. Besides, it was kind of true. He hadn’t been drinking all that much for the past few weeks.

  “Oh. Well. I really feel this is going to work out for the best.”

  “I think it already has. I shouldn’t be getting into other people’s lives and ruining them, anyway.”

  “You know what we’re gonna do?” Codie stood and placed her hands on her narrow hips.

  “What?”

  “We’re going to watch one of those awful, gross comedies you like, talk about stupid stuff, and order disgustingly greasy pizza because I’m a really, really good friend.”

  Davis finally smiled. “Yes. You are.”

  “Don’t you forget it.”

  “Not even if you’d let me.”

  Codie went to find her phone and order the pizza. Meanwhile, Davis called the restaurant to let them know he wouldn’t be in for the next few nights because he was sick. It wasn’t so far from the truth. His manager wasn’t happy.

  “What do you mean, sick?” he said.

  “I mean sick. As in I’m not coming in tonight. Probably not tomorrow night, either.”

  “Don’t bother coming in Monday night then. I thought we were past this crap. Didn’t I tell you the last time I re-hired you that you were getting one more chance? Guess what? Chance blown.”

  “Fine.” He pressed his fingertips to his forehead. He’d been fired too many times to be fazed by it. And it had been the “last time” many times before as well. The guy just needed a week or two to cool off.

  “You can pick up your last check when you drop off your aprons. You won’t be getting it direct deposit.”

  “I know the drill.”

  His manager grumbled a few choice words bef
ore slamming down the phone. Davis shrugged and tossed his cell phone onto the coffee table.

  He lay down on her couch and tried unsuccessfully to shut out pictures of the night before that he’d spent with Jemma.

  ***

  Friday night, Jemma sat at a small table in a bar with Emily Rose and Meg. It was Emily Rose’s last night with them. The next morning, she would be leaving for New York. All night, Jemma kept telling herself she didn’t miss Davis. That she barely thought about him. So they’d spent a few fun days together. Fun was over. And it was almost time for her to leave anyway. She thought maybe if she repeated it to herself enough, she’d start to believe it.

  Not far into the night, the conversation turned to the wedding and marriage in general, which turned into talk about Meg’s recent engagement to her boyfriend. Meg and her boyfriend had gone away for a few days after the wedding, and he’d popped the question at their favorite restaurant. He was being shipped off to Afghanistan soon and he’d wanted to ask before he went. They were getting married the first opportunity he had to come home—as soon as he got his first leave from duty over there. Nothing fancy. Just a trip to city hall.

  “That’s so romantic,” Jemma said with a smile, stirring the ice in her drink with the cocktail straw, resting her chin in her hand.

  Emily Rose turned to her and raised her eyebrows. “Says Miz Anti-Romantic? You must be drunk.”

  “No, really, it’s sweet. He wants to be with you so much. And you’re getting married as soon as he comes back?”

  “Yeah, pretty much. As long as he comes back in one piece,” Meg said with a worried laugh.

  Emily Rose put a hand on Meg’s arm. “Oh, Meg. That’s so scary. I’ll be praying for him.”

  Meg nodded, and shook her black hair over her shoulders. “Yeah, well, don’t let me kill the party. Em Rose, your wedding was gorgeous. I want Ed and me to have a reception like that one day. We’ve talked about it for after his tour is over.”

  “Yeah.” Jemma pushed away thoughts of dancing with Davis at that very reception. “Everything was perfect.”

  “I can’t take all the credit.” Emily Rose rolled her eyes. “You’ll have to thank Ms. Fletcher for taking over my wedding.”

 

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