Damaged

by Miley Maine

  “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I promise I won’t do it again,” she screamed, laughing at the same time.

  “You sure you can keep that promise?”

  “Yes! Yes! Please have mercy!” she said, and I finally relented, releasing her. She paddled away a bit and then turned to face me.

  “I think if anyone is a devil here, it’s you.”

  We spent so long just hanging out, talking, eating, and drinking, that time seemed to fly away before our eyes.

  Before I knew it, it was late and dark outside, and Emma still hadn’t left yet. I knew that it was about time for her to get going, but my heart also told me that that wasn’t a good idea. It was dark, it was a nice day, and there were likely to be lots of drunk drivers on the roads.

  I trusted her, but I didn’t trust other people, and I wanted to make sure that she was safe. I couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to her. Not at all.

  The two of us were all wrapped up in towels now and sitting on the chairs as we drank champagne and contemplated the stars.

  “They’re so bright out here,” Emma said. “I guess you don’t get as much light pollution.”

  I shook my head. “There aren’t as many people here and the roads are quiet, so the stars definitely are easier to see.”

  Emma’s nose scrunched up, just slightly, as if she was contemplating something. “The roads, uh oh! What time is it?”

  She pulled her phone out, answering her own question with a groan. “It’s so late. I should probably get going.”

  She stood, grabbing her bag, and I stood as well, walking after her and closing the distance in several quick strides.

  “It’s too late,” I said, grabbing her hand and spinning her around to face me. “You can stay over and leave in the morning.”

  I meant this in the way that I was concerned for her and didn’t want her to get in trouble on the roads this late at night, but she must have taken things a completely different way, for she leaned forward as if to kiss me.

  Chapter Eleven

  Emma

  Vincent stepped back, away from me, looking at me in shock.

  I hadn’t realized that he must have meant things in a different way, that he didn’t want me to stay because he was attracted to me. It had seemed like all day he had been giving me hints that he liked me, but I must have read all of them wrong. Now I couldn’t help but feel embarrassed.

  “I’m so—I’m so sorry,” I stuttered, looking up at him in horror.

  I couldn’t believe that I had just tried to kiss him, Vincent, who had been so good to my class, who had become a close friend, who was still mourning his losses. How could I have done that. I was stupid, so stupid.

  “No, it’s okay,” Vincent said. “I must have been giving you the wrong idea. The roads can be dangerous this late at night, I just wanted to make sure that you were safe. I have plenty of guest rooms so you can have your pick of any of those.”

  My face was burning. I couldn’t believe that I had taken that initiative. I should have just waited to see what Vincent might do. I really was stupid.

  “Hey, don’t feel too bad about it, okay?” Vincent said, coming in closer to me. “I know I must have been giving off some mixed signals. A relationship like that is just not really what I want right now.”

  “I know, I’m sorry,” I said, wishing that I could melt into the floor so that I wouldn’t have to deal with the mortification of it all anymore.

  “Come on, let me show you to a guest room,” Vincent said, reaching for me. I let him take my arm, but I wouldn’t meet his gaze. Despite what he had said, I couldn’t help but feel bad. I had crossed a boundary that I should have known not to cross. It was my fault.

  I let him lead me into the house, my towel dropping from around my shoulders along the way. He took me to one of the guest bedrooms on the first floor, opening the door for me and then releasing his grip.

  “Let me know if there’s anything else that you need,” he said with a small smile.

  “I think I’ll be fine,” I said, trying to school my face into one that wasn’t so mortified.

  He left then, and I entered the room, shutting the door behind me.

  Immediately I sunk to the floor, burying my head in my arms. Why had I done that? The awkwardness between us now was all my fault. How was I ever going to recover from this? How was I ever going to face him again?

  I took several deep breaths, trying to remind myself that he had said it was fine, that it was going to be okay, that I had already apologized and it wasn’t like I was going to do it again. Things were going to be fine. I was going to be fine.

  I try to remind myself that it was good he was assertive that he didn’t want that, that that meant I wasn’t taking advantage of him or a moment of weakness.

  I stood, trying to stay strong in my conviction that everything was fine, and would be fine. Nothing was messed up, Vincent was okay, I was okay, we hadn’t actually kissed. I had made one wrong move, but that didn’t mean that the whole friendship was over.

  I changed out of my bathing suit and into my other clothes, blushing as I remembered how Vincent had watched me, how he had convinced me that I was okay when I felt awkward about being so bare in front of him.

  Had those been the actions of just a friend? It hadn’t felt like it. But maybe he didn’t quite know how to separate things anymore.

  Or I was just reading into things that weren’t there.

  It ended up taking me a while to actually get to sleep. Every time I closed my eyes in that guest bedroom I kept thinking about earlier: how Vincent had stepped back with a look of confusion on his face as I had leaned forward to kiss him. It hurt me, deeply.

  The bed was comfortable and the temperature of the room was pleasant, but I still felt restless because of these thoughts. There was no way to escape them, though I did consider briefly just leaving now and sending Vincent a text telling him that I had gone home.

  But I didn’t want to worry him. He had been so sweet to consider the fact that it would be dangerous late at night to drive, even though I had driven at this time of night plenty of times before and didn’t think there would be any problem with it.

  Eventually, sleep overtook me and I sunk into a restless slumber.

  Nightmares haunted me. Some I didn’t remember. They all brought back things that I wanted to forget. Him. Us.

  I woke up in the morning breathing heavily, a light sheen of sweat covering my body.

  I was used to the nightmares by now, but they didn’t usually produce this bad of a reaction in me. Perhaps it had been the pool or the incident with Vincent that had caused them to be worse than normal.

  I took a few deep breaths to calm myself down and looked around, reminding myself that I was no longer there. I was at Vincent’s now, and very safe, and then I would go back to my cozy apartment and be even safer. Everything was fine.

  I saw then that someone had left a new change of clothes on the dresser with a note.

  Mr. Eldrige said you might want something else to wear, the note said in fine cursive handwriting. Beneath was a flowy yellow sundress, and a matching white bra and panties set.

  If I allowed my fantasies to get the better of me, then I would imagine Vincent picking out these clothes, thinking of how I would look, especially in the undergarments. But that had probably not been the case at all and I tried my best to banish the thought from my mind.

  I changed quickly, stuffing the clothes I had slept in into my bag. I did a once over of the room to make sure that there was nothing I was forgetting and then left.

  One of the maids found me as I was wandering towards where I assumed the front door was.

  “Mr. Eldrige wanted to see you before you left,” she said with a wide smile. “He’s making breakfast in the kitchen right now. And I have to say, he looks happier than he has in a while. Do you want me to take you to him?”

  “That would be great, thanks,” I said, trying not to dwell too much on h
er comment. Vincent was happy because he had me as a friend, nothing more. He was making me breakfast because he cared. He had had me sleep over because he had been worried. There were no ulterior motives.

  But did I want there to be?

  No matter how much I might deny it and push it away, the answer was yes. I wanted to be with Vincent. I wanted him to wrap his arms around me and kiss me. I wanted him to ask me to spend the night and really mean with him, in his room. They were dirty thoughts. They were thoughts that I shouldn’t have towards someone who had been such a good friend and was continuing to be one even after I slipped up. I wanted them to go away, but I also wanted them to come true.

  The maid led me to the kitchen, which had a bar counter with stools around it. Vincent was indeed working on making breakfast, and there was another man (the cook, I assumed) watching him rather anxiously.

  I took a seat on one of the stools and Vincent looked up.

  “Emma! I hope you slept alright.”

  “I slept fine,” I said. That was a lie.

  “Well, I hope you like pancakes,” he said. “I wanted to make you breakfast, and it’s one of the few things I know how to make,”

  “Careful, they’re about to burn,” the cook said, and Vincent went back to the griddle immediately and flipped the pancakes over.

  There was a wonderful scent filling the room, and a plate of berries was already waiting. I snagged one, biting down into juicy sweetness.

  “If your pancakes are half as good as this fruit I think I’ll be more than happy with them,” I said, taking another piece.

  Vincent let out a laugh. “You really like fresh fruit, don’t you?”

  I nodded. “I used to live in an area with a more wintery climate, so I’m not used to having access to such nice fruit all year round.”

  “Would you like some orange juice? I squeezed it this morning,” the cook offered.

  I nodded and he headed to the fridge to get out a jug of orange juice and poured me a glass, then slid it across the counter to me.

  I took a sip, almost moaning as the cold, sweet, and only slightly tart liquid filled my mouth. It was absolutely delicious.

  “This is so good,” I said, at the same time that Vincent clapped his hands and announced, “And done.”

  I looked over at him. “Are you done?”

  “Yes, just need to serve these up now,” he said, gesturing to a plate of golden pancakes. They looked absolutely delicious and I couldn’t wait to get my hands on them.

  He put a few on the plate in front of me, then served himself.

  “Would you like anything to go on top of them?” he asked. “We’ve got maple syrup, jam, butter, peanut butter, anything else you could think of.”

  “I think I’m good with them plain,” I said with a laugh. “They look delicious as is.”

  They were indeed. Even if Vincent might not know how to make much else, he could certainly make some damn good pancakes.

  “These are so good,” I said once had sat down next to me and I had had a mouthful of pancake.

  “Glad you like them,” he said with a wink. “They’re my specialty.”

  “His only specialty,” the cook added, already cleaning up the mess that Vincent had left. “He can’t make much else at all. Don’t be fooled by how good those taste.”

  I let out a little laugh. “Don’t worry, I won’t be.”

  “Good, because you shouldn’t expect me to ever make you anything else,” Vincent said, giving me a smirk. “I can promise it will taste terrible if I do.”

  I shook my head. “Oh, the woes of a one-trick billionaire.”

  “Hey! Don’t call me that, I can do more than one trick.”

  “But you can only cook one thing.”

  “She has a point there,” the cook chimed in from where he and the maid were washing the dishes.

  “That doesn’t make me a one-trick billionaire.”

  “It does when it comes to cooking,” I countered, holding back a giggle.

  “I think you should take back what you said last night. It really isn’t me who is a devil,” Vincent teased. “It’s you, embarrassing me in front of my staff.”

  “It’s all stuff we already know, she’s just speaking the truth,” the cook said, earning a mock glare from Vincent.

  He sighed. “Ahh, fine. Perhaps I am the evil one, but that doesn’t make you a complete angel either.”

  “What makes you say that?” I gave him my most perfect pout and he had to look away, his face slightly red.

  “It was you who started things yesterday, and you who called me names today.”

  The way he was teasing me and I was teasing him, it did feel more like we were a couple more than friends. I thought about this on my drive home from his house.

  Was I really to blame for thinking he wanted more?

  Chapter Twelve

  Vincent

  I wanted to continue to do things that were nice for Emma’s class.

  The students had really grown on me. When I had come in to paint my fox with the rest of them, they had all helped me pick out colors for it and given me advice in that way that kids do, where it isn’t exactly the most helpful thing.

  I had come to know each of them better through spending time in their class and watching the way Emma interacted with them.

  She really was a good teacher, one of the best that I had ever seen. She knew exactly how to deal with each of the kids and make sure that, above all, they were having fun. She couldn’t tell me exactly what each of them was dealing with, but she did tell me when there were a few that had made some significant progress.

  The pride on her face was something that I loved seeing.

  Thinking back to the past weekend and how she had thought I meant to invite the kids over for a pool day, I decided that that was exactly what I wanted to do. I had a pool big enough for all of them and I was sure it was something that they would enjoy.

  Besides that, it would provide an excuse to spend some more time with Emma.

  I had been trying to tone things down after last time. I could definitely see where she had been getting the wrong day. I hadn’t been very good at reeling myself back in or concealing my feelings, and so it was no wonder she had tried to kiss me.

  I had still been texting her and we had had a few lunches, but nothing as much as I wanted.

  The truth was that my attraction to her terrified me. I didn’t want to lose somebody again and part of me still felt like it was too soon after Maya passing to move on to someone else.

  Even if it had already been five years.

  Even if I knew that Maya would want me to be happy.

  I wanted to be happy too. Part of me just wanted to say fuck it and grab Emma by the waist and kiss her full on the mouth next time I saw her.

  But I didn’t know if that would be what made me happy.

  I might.

  Should I not have rejected her kiss?

  There were too many questions. It was something I would have to figure out on my own for the moment. I wouldn’t take any shortcuts, wouldn’t jump into something before I was sure it was what I wanted.

  This was why I didn’t want to give Emma false hope. I didn’t want to break her heart by making her think I wanted to be with her and then actually realize that was not what I wanted at all.

  So I called up the school and told them that, if Emma’s class wanted it, I would love to host a pool day for them.

  The principal was immediately eager and told me she would consult with Emma and the class, as well as their foster parents to see if it would be possible.

  I was called back the next day, and she informed me that if three other teachers could come besides as well as Emma (to transport and supervise the students), then it would be possible.

  I agreed. I didn’t mind having other teachers there.

  She then asked me when I wanted to host this pool day and I asked if Saturday would work. The principal told me it would and that she woul
d arrange everything. I told her my address so she could write it down, and then proceeded to make the other arrangements necessary with my staff.

  I didn’t know what the kids would want for a pool day, but one of my maids had kids in elementary school and she assured me that she would take care of everything as long as her two boys could come. I agreed.

  I was glad to have things taken off my hands so that I could just focus on work.

  Work was the only thing keeping me from worrying too much about Emma or thinking too much more about what I had lost and what I stood to gain.

  The day of the pool party soon arrived. I hid away in my study until just before they were supposed to arrive as I didn’t want to have to deal with any of the anticipation or the setting up. I knew that my maids would jump at the chance to engage me in their tasks and I just wanted to hide.

  Once the teachers and the students were supposed to be arriving, I headed downstairs, straightening out my t-shirt and preparing myself to greet them.

  “Welcome,” I said with a smile as they came up the drive, looking around with wide eyes. “You can all follow me to the pool.”

  The students and the teachers all carried bags full of towels and changes of clothes with them. They had a sense of awe about them as they looked around at everything. Only Emma seemed comfortable in this environment, skipping ahead a little bit to join me.

  “You look nervous,” she teased.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Of course you do.” She punched me gently in the shoulder. “Don’t worry, the kids already love you. And they love you even more for this.”

  “It’s not them I’m worried about,” I said under my breath, making her eyebrows furrow in a confused line.

  “What do you—”

  Before she could finish her question we were already outside and I gestured to the pool.