She’s quiet a minute, then shakes her head. "No, you don’t know what you’re saying. They have you on so much medication. You’re not thinking straight. One more time between us and you’d remember why we belong together. Remember it, Jake? Those nights in your room..."
I feel myself shutting down now. "I used to sneak down to your liquor cabinet afterwards and do four shots of bourbon just so I could fall back to sleep, Lauren. What does that tell you?" I had done it instead of the alternative, which was crying like a bitch, so confused and horrified over my body’s betrayal.
She laughs. "I was thinking of you, too. It was hard for me to sleep, too, honey."
That’s not what I meant but she’s too self-involved to realize that. I pause for only a second. "MISSY! SUSAN!" I yell at the top of my lungs for the nurses who are on duty right now as Lauren startles at my sudden, booming voice. I hate feeling helpless in the presence of this woman, calling for my nurses like I’m a child. But I refuse to spend another second with her, especially like this, unable to move, like a fly in her spider web.
"Oh stop, Jake. Fine, I’m leaving." She stands up, but instead of stepping back, she leans forward and plants her mouth on mine, licking my closed lips, trying to gain entrance. Before I can make a move, the door flies open and Missy and Dr. Fox stand there staring at us. Lauren steps back, wiping her mouth and smiles brightly at me. "Don’t forget to put me back on the visitors list, Jake. I’ll be back soon." Then she breezes out, leaving all three of us staring after her.
Missy comes over to me and asks me if I’m okay, her eyes skittering away from mine when I look up at her. Obviously she saw my "mom" trying to make out with me in my hospital bed. Jesus. I grit my teeth in humiliation and shame. "I don’t know how she got past us, Jake. We were all sitting right at the front desk. I’m so sorry," she says quietly.
"It’s not your fault, Missy," I say. When that woman wants something, she uses any means necessary. Missy takes my vitals and then tells me she’ll check on me in a couple hours, walking out and closing the door behind her.
Dr. Fox hasn’t moved from the spot by the door. He’s frowning at me as he walks over and sits down in the chair next to my bed.
"Hey Doc, do you mind if we re-schedule? I’m not feeling real up for talking right now."
"It seems to me that this might be a really good time to talk," he says gently.
I shake my head. "No, really. I’m not up for it. Plus, I’m not feeling very well. I need to sleep. I have another surgery scheduled for tomorrow morning…"
He’s quiet for a moment, pursing his lips. "Okay, son." He puts his hand on my shoulder and I flinch slightly. He removes it and looks at me for another moment before moving away.
"I’ll check on you tomorrow afternoon after your surgery. We can re-schedule a session for early next week, okay? But you call me if you want to talk sooner than that."
I nod blankly. I’m just so damn tired. I want to be alone. I want to sleep.
He walks to the door and looks back at me one last time. He looks as if he’s struggling with himself over something.
As he closes the door behind him, I hear a familiar voice in the hall. Preston. He told me he’d visit me this week when he was in town for some meetings in the San Diego office. I’ve been slowly trying to get back to work, participating in some conference calls and going over reports on my laptop. I have so much to do to get myself up to speed enough to start running things in Cincinnati.
But I can’t even think about that now. I feel overwhelmed, weak, sickened.
The voices trail away down the hall, growing quieter. Dr. Fox must have told him I wasn’t up for company. Thank God. I’m not. I close my eyes, letting the depression that Lauren’s presence always evokes wash over me. I fall into a restless sleep.
CHAPTER 10
As soon as I get a break at work the next day, I call Evie. I need to see her. I feel an overwhelming need to hear her voice, just to remind myself that this is not a dream. She’s back in my life. She doesn’t answer and so I shoot her a text message.
Just as I’m heading into a board meeting, my phone rings and I see that it’s her. I stop walking and move to the side of the hallway outside the conference room. "Evie."
"Hi, Jake," she says, sounding a little unsure. I exhale. God, just to hear her voice feels so damn good.
"Listen, I'm running into a meeting so I can only talk for a minute but I'd like to take you to dinner tonight."
"Oh," she says, sounding surprised. "Um, I–"
"Evie, it's a yes or yes question," I say jokingly.
I hear the smile in her voice as she says, "I – yes, that will work."
Thank God. I grin. "Great. I'll pick you up at seven."
"Um–"
"See you tonight, Evie," I say, hanging up quickly, not giving her a second to back out. Everyone looks up at me curiously as I walk into the conference room. I realize I have a stupid grin on my face and school my expression. Focus! But, is this real? Did I really just say, "See you tonight, Evie?" It takes effort not to grin through the whole damn meeting.
**********
I leave work at five and head to the gym for a quick workout. I’m showered and dressed by six thirty. I know it’s too early to leave, but despite the vigorous workout, I’m so restless I’m pacing the floor of my condo. Fuck it. I’m going to be early but I don’t care. I’m over eager to see Evie and I realize that, but I don’t plan to hide from her the fact that I want her. At this point, I think I’m probably incapable of playing it too cool. I don’t want to scare her off but I also want her to know that I’m into her. I’m pretty sure she’s at least attracted to me and for now, that’s enough to give me the confidence to move forward. I’m a twenty-three year old man who feels like he’s going on his first date. I have to chuckle at myself. But this is Evie. This thought both comforts and scares the shit out of me.
I tried to date a few women over the years. It never felt right to me to have purely physical relationships. That was nothing that ever brought me satisfaction on any level. But despite the fact that I gave it a shot once or twice, I always ended up feeling even worse about attempting to form an emotional relationship with someone. A physical relationship was one thing, but an emotional attachment always left me feeling the guiltiest of all, as if that was the ultimate betrayal to Evie. Not only was I left with an emptiness after each "date," but I was left disinterested as well, which made me feel shitty as hell on several different levels. No one ever came close to making me feel like Evie did. I was destined to compare every woman I met for the rest of my life to the girl who still owned my heart. It wasn’t fair to anyone. After a couple dating attempts, I threw in the towel and vowed that I’d never be close to anyone again. I had betrayed Evie, and I deserved to live a life of loneliness. I wanted to live a life of loneliness.
I pull up in front of Evie’s apartment building and sit in my car for several minutes. My body is humming with the thought of her being less than a hundred feet away from me, waiting behind her door. Heat builds in my chest and I know I have to kiss her, to taste her, before we get back in my car. I’ve never been much for kissing. Too intimate. But I want to kiss her as if feeling her lips on mine is necessary to life itself. I don’t know how she’ll react, but the deep need that fills me propels me out of my car and with single-minded determination, I pull open her broken front door and stride through. I called her landlord from work yesterday and that shit better be fixed in the next day or I will be on his cheap, lazy ass.
I knock on Evie’s door, and I hear her moving around inside before she pulls it open. And suddenly she’s standing in front of me, her long, dark hair hanging loose around her beautiful face and her eyes zeroed in on me. Then her eyes roam over me, and the appreciation that I see in them seals the deal. I am physically unable to resist touching her. I move forward and cup her jaw, pulling her into my body. I feel a growl moving up my chest like a fucking caveman. All I am is pure want, a possessiveness I ha
ven’t felt for almost a decade washing through me, sending waves of testosterone surging through my body.
I dip my head and settle my mouth on hers. I sweep my tongue inside and as her tongue meets mine, I almost groan at the taste of her. Heaven. My heaven.
She whimpers and lifts her arms around my neck, pressing her soft body into mine.
I’m like a starving man who is finally sitting before a banquet table of the most delicious food on earth. Ecstasy courses through my body as her tongue meets mine stroke for stroke.
I vaguely note that her hands are running through my hair and when I bring my hands down to cup her ass, she whimpers into my mouth and I can’t help groaning back. This is the second most incredible kiss of my life. The first one was with the same girl.
My erection is straining against my pants and I know I need to cut this off before I come on myself like some over-eager teenager. Or before Maurice gets wind of this and crushes my ass like a bug right here in the hallway.
Reluctantly, I break away, breathing hard and forcing myself to step back. She makes a sweet little whimper in her throat and I can’t help grinning as I say, "Damn, you can kiss." But, I already knew that.
She blinks up at me. She was as caught up in that kiss as I was.
She smiles sweetly. "Wow."
"Yeah," I agree, still grinning. I might never stop grinning again. "Hungry?"
She looks confused for a minute, but then says, "Yeah."
As we’re walking to my car, she asks, "Doesn't the norm dictate that you were supposed to kiss me after our date?" She’s smiling.
"Couldn't wait," I say, smiling back and winking. "It was either kiss you, or go insane." And damn if it isn’t the truth.
Once we’re settled in the car and I’ve pulled out of my parking space, I grab her hand and hold it between us. I’m having a hard time keeping my hands off of her, as if she might disappear into thin air, like a misty dream if I don’t keep her attached to me in some physical way. Plus, the soothing effect of her warm, soft skin on mine is like a drug. I’m hooked. My confidence in who we are together is growing by the minute. Our chemistry is undeniable.
She shakes me out of my reverie with her words, "So, Jake, do you date a lot?" She’s biting her lip as if she’s worried about what my answer might be.
And here we are. I can’t lie about this. I’m not even sure why I feel compelled to be completely honest about my past in this regard, but something in me feels that it’s crucial and so I answer her honestly. "No. There have been a lot of women, Evie, but no, I didn’t date many of them." I glance over at her to see her reaction but she’s staring ahead, not giving me any clues. Not only do I want her to know that she’s different, but I want her to know that I’m not that man anymore, and so I go on, "I’m not proud of that, but it’s the truth. Does that bother you?"
She’s silent for so long that my stomach starts knotting. Finally she says quietly, "Jake, I can’t be your fuck buddy."
I have to keep staring straight ahead at the road not to burst out laughing. Is that what she thinks? Let me make this a hundred percent clear. "I don’t want that with you, Evie."
"Oh. I just thought… I mean, I… Because…"
Shit, I didn’t phrase that properly. Let me make this a hundred and ten percent clear. "What I mean is, when I fuck you, you’re going to be mine. Is that clear enough for you?"
She keeps staring straight ahead, but I see her squeeze her thighs together in my peripheral vision. I almost groan out loud.
"Evie, look at me. You feel this too, don't you?"
She hesitates for just a second before she looks over at me, nods, and whispers, "Yes."
I smile at her as I pull into a parking spot in front of the "Chart House."
I need to ask her about her past too. I’m sure she’s dated. How on earth could a girl who looks like her not have gotten lots of male attention over the years? The very thought of it turns my stomach, and I feel disgusted not only by the thought but also with myself for having the thought. I don’t have the right. I should have been here making sure no other men so much as looked in her direction. I should have… I should have… stop. This isn’t productive right now. Work with reality, not what ifs.
I shut off the car and turn to Evie. "Can I ask how many men you've dated, Evie?" I try not to hold my breath. Whatever she says, I’m responsible for. However many men she’s been with, is my own fault. I need to accept that.
It looks like my question surprises her and I notice that she’s blushing slightly as she says, "So many men, Jake, but I doubt you'd say I actually dated many of them."
I freeze. What the fuck? But then I realize she’s mocking me. I exhale. "You're fucking with me," I say.
She tilts her head. "It's okay for you but not for me?" she asks.
No. It’s not okay for either of us, but she wouldn’t have made the mistakes I made. She would have found some way to be better than me. She always had. "Yes, because you're a better person than I am," I answer.
"Jake–" she starts.
"I just want an honest answer. I just want to know how many men have been in your life."
She sighs. She probably thinks I’m all over the map. Unsure one minute and caveman the next. But that’s pretty much exactly what’s going on inside of me. The two halves of me are dueling. I’m scared to death and possessive as hell. It’s exhausting. But I have to know. Maybe I want to torture myself, I don’t know. But I need her to answer me. After a minute, she says, "I've dated a couple guys. Mostly set-ups by my friend Nicole. No one seriously, and no one more than three times. The last guy I went out on a date with was a year ago. We went out for dinner once; he asked if he could take me out again, I declined. Is that specific enough for you?" She looks away.
I take her hand in mine. "And in high school?" I ask. Surely there had to be someone special after I moved to San Diego.
"High school?" she shakes her head slightly and laughs, but it sounds hollow to my ears. "No, I didn't date in high school."
It slowly settles into my soul that neither one of us has been in love since each other. Something inside of me takes flight, soaring. I lean over and turn her head toward me with one finger on her jaw and kiss her sweet lips. That possessiveness sweeps through me again.
We smile at each other for a few seconds before I take the keys out of the ignition and say, "Time for me to feed you. And talk about lighter stuff. I want to see you smile and hear you laugh. I want to know who Nicole is, I want to know what your favorite movie is, why you love to run so early in the morning, and what music is on your iPod. Wait there."
I let her out of my car and lead her into the restaurant.
**********
We take our seats and I smile across at Evie, taking her hands in the middle of the table. She smiles at me and looks appreciatively around the restaurant. "This is beautiful. I’ve never been here," she says.
I can’t help thinking about where we both came from and what we would have thought about eating in a place like this when we were kids. It’s not the fanciest restaurant in town, but to us, it would have been like landing on another planet.
My mind goes to a time when my mom was zonked out on the couch in an alcohol coma. My dad had smacked her around for who knows what, looking at him, or some other grievous error, and after he left, she drank a bottle of Vodka and didn’t wake up for two days. We had precious little food in the house as it was and we ran out completely the next day. I went around to some fast food restaurants and snagged as many ketchup packs as I could and made a horrific version of "tomato soup" to keep Seth and me fed until our mom came around enough to function. It sucked but I had someone depending on me and I did what I had to do. I was nine.
I long to share my feelings with Evie, to talk about how incredible it is for the two of us to be sitting here in this place, after where we came from. It’s our connection and she would understand like no one else could. The fact that I can’t leaves me feeling empty.
As we sip our wine, I say, "So tell me about your friend Nicole."
Her eyes warm and she says, "I met Nicole at work. She's my best friend and I guess you could say her and her husband Mike have kind of adopted me." She laughs.
I smile at her and she continues, "I spend holidays with them, things like that. It's nice. I never had that before I met Nicole." She takes a sip of her wine and looks slightly embarrassed.
"Where did you spend holidays before that?" I ask. Why? Just to torture myself?
Her eyes dart to mine and she says quietly, "After I got out of foster care, before I really got to know Nicole and her family, I spent them alone." She shrugs.
I'm quiet for a minute, hoping she doesn't see the sorrow in my eyes that I feel in my heart. "I'm sorry, Evie."
She smiles. "Why? It wasn't your fault. It was… lonely. But it wasn't the worst of what I've gone through, Jake." I frown and she pauses, tilting her head. "Wait, I thought we were supposed to be talking about lighter stuff." She smiles.
I find it in me to smile back, even though her comment about it not being my fault is echoing in my head. It's entirely my fault. "You're right. Nicole and Mike have a daughter?"
She grins and her eyes light up. Obviously the little girl is special to her. "Yes. Her name is Kaylee and she's the smartest, sweetest little thing in the world. She keeps us all in our places." She grins again.
Evie has surrounded herself with good people, people she loves and who love her back. I'm so happy to know that she has that in her life.
As we're eating, I ask about her job. She talks easily about it and laughs as she tells me a few funny stories about the worst things that people have accidentally left behind in a room she’s cleaned.