If You Stay (10 page)

I set her on my bed, pull off her boots and cover her up. I drag my bathroom trashcan next to her, just in case, and then sit in a chair and watch her for a bit.  I have no idea if she’s going to wake up and be sick or if she’s definitely passed out for the night.

She remains still and quiet, with a little snore erupting from her every once in a while.  I can’t help but smile just a bit over that.  I’m guessing she would be embarrassed to know that she’s snoring, even though it’s actually cute as hell.

I sigh.

I’m fucking tired and I could easily sleep right here in this chair, but I know that if she wakes up and finds me here, it might be startling, particularly in the dark.  So I head downstairs and find that once again, I’m just not ready to sleep.  I’m worked up now, from all of the shit at the bar and by the fact that Mila is in my bed at this very moment.  Alone.

And I’m downstairs.  Alone. 

And my hand hurts. 

Fucking A.

I grab a baggie of ice for my hand and a bottle of whiskey from my garage and make my way out to the beach behind my house.  I drop onto a chair and stare up at the stars as I listen to the rhythmic crash of the waves.  I take a gulp of the liquid fire.  I feel the warmth all the way into my belly and I take another swig. 

I fall asleep humming a song that I don’t know the words to or even where it came from.  The last conscious thought I have is that the night is so very, very black.

Minutes, or days, or years pass before something wakes me.  Time has run together.

“Pax,” the soft voice murmurs, intruding upon my sleep. 

And for a minute, just a scant minute, it seems like it might be my mother.  In the blur of sleep, the voice has the same soft timbre as hers.  But it can’t be.  Even in sleep, I know that.  It’s only the wishful thinking that comes from that grayish, half-awake place.  It isn’t my mother.  I know that before I even open my eyes. 

But I’m surprised, when I do, to find Mila standing in front of me. 

She seems uncertain, but she’s so fucking beautiful in the morning sun.  Radiant, actually.  She doesn’t seem hung-over at all.  Her dark hair is loose and flowing and the morning breeze carries her scent to me.  I inhale it and stare at her.

“What are you doing out here?”  I ask groggily.  I squint into the light, then rub my forehead.  As I do, I wince because my fucking hand hurts.  And then I realize that I must have fallen asleep here. The night air made my throat scratchy, so I clear it, then clear it again.  “Are you feeling alright?”

I glance down and find that my bottle of whiskey is beside me on the beach, its contents spilled onto the sand.  I think.  I certainly hope I hadn’t drunk the whole thing.  If I did, I’m going to feel it later today, just like Mila.

Mila looks even more uncertain now. 

“I… uh.”  She shifts her weight from one foot to the other nervously.  I look at her and cock an eyebrow.  “I feel fine. Mostly. My mouth is dry and I have a headache.  I don’t, um.  I don’t remember exactly what all happened last night.  But I sort of remember that you punched Jared and brought me here.  And I think you might have broken his hand.”

I eye her.  “Yeah, that happened.  Do you make a habit of getting trashed at the Bear’s Den and going home with assholes?” 

It came out a little harsher than I meant for it to and Mila flinches. 

“No,” she answers quickly.  “In fact, I don’t usually drink much at all, unless it is wine at dinner.  Maddy has been bugging me to go out with her and blow the cogs off and after yesterday, I just felt like I needed it.”

I stare at her with interest now, my lip twitching. 

“I think you mean cobwebs.  And what about yesterday?  When you rejected me, you mean?”

Color floods her cheeks and she stares at the sand. 

“Yes.”

“If that was stressful for you, then did you ever think that maybe you made a mistake?  That maybe you shouldn’t have rejected me?  And that maybe you should give this thing a chance?”

I stare at her, trying to force her to meet my gaze. 

“Well,” I prompt.  “Have you?”

She lifts her chin, her green eyes bright. 

“That’s all I’ve thought about since you left my shop yesterday,” she admits.  “All I can think of is you.  Even when I was with Madison and Jared last night.  And then when you were there at the bar, it was all I could do to keep from running over and jumping in your lap.”

I cock my head.  “Why didn’t you?  I think I would have enjoyed that.”

She blushes again, her cheeks and neck flushing prettily. 

“I think it might be considered socially inappropriate,” she replies wryly.  “Thank you for coming to my rescue last night.  I guess we’re even now.  I saved you, then you saved me back.“  She pauses and looks at the ground before she looks back up at me. 

“And I
have
been thinking about you.  It’s probably not smart or good for me, but it’s all I seem to do lately.  I think about you.  Is your apology still on the table from yesterday?  Because if it is, then I think maybe you were right.  Maybe this is worth taking a risk for.”

She fidgets with her hands nervously.

I raise an eyebrow, deliberately obtuse. 

“
This
? Can you be more specific?”

She doesn’t answer.  She just bends down without hesitation and kisses me square on the mouth. 

The lips that I fantasized about last night are on mine, her tongue in my mouth.  I know that I taste like whiskey and smokes, but I don’t care and she doesn’t seem to either.  She tastes like heaven. 

Finally, she pulls away and I can see that she is a bit breathless. 

“So, was that a yes?” she asks hesitantly.   

I shake my head in bewilderment and smile at her.  Having her here like this is fucking amazing.  And surprising.  My chest is swelling with the amazing feeling so much that I can’t believe my next words. 

“That’s a yes,” I tell her.  “My apology is still on the table.  But I think I probably owe you another one.”

Chapter Nine

Mila

I stare at Pax. 

Even though he’s gorgeous, he looks rough, like he had one hell of a night.  He’s got two-day stubble now and he’s wearing the same clothing that he was wearing yesterday.  His eyes are rimmed in red, like he didn’t sleep much.  Or he had way too much to drink.  Or maybe he even did too much of something else. 

I narrow my eyes. 

“What do you need to apologize for now?” I ask hesitantly. I’m not sure if I want to know.  And he looks like he’s not sure that he wants to tell me.  I back away a few steps.  It can’t be worse than getting a blow job from Jill, can it?

He holds his hand up.  “Wait, Mila.  Just listen.”

He stares at me. 

I stare back. 

He sighs. 

I wait. 

“Yes?” I ask and even I can hear the trepidation in my tone.  I swallow.  He dips his head, then returns my stare. 

“I think we might be onto something good here and I don’t want to fuck it up by starting it out with lies.”

I’m confused now.  Lies?  He’s lied to me already?  As if he can hear my thoughts, Pax shakes his head. 

“I haven’t lied to you yet,” he explains.  “But if I don’t tell you what I did last night, then you won’t understand what kind of person that I am.  And that would be the biggest lie of all.”

“What kind of person are you?” I whisper.  “Did you try something with me last night?”  The morning breeze blows my hair into my face and impatiently, I shove it behind my ears. I need to hear this, even if it isn’t pretty. 

Pax is hesitant now, unsure.  The look on his face drops a big iron weight upon my heart because I know that whatever he wants to tell me isn’t good.  Maybe coming out here was a bad idea.  I should have known.  I want to back away, but I resist the urge and plant my feet firmly in the sand.

Pax catches my gaze and lifts his chin, sighing heavily.

“I’m the kind of person who gets pissed and then goes off and does stupid shit to try and block out my anger.  Or my hurt.  I don’t deal with things in a healthy way.  I deal with them in shitty ways, like drugs or women.  Or whiskey.  Last night, I chose whiskey and a woman.  Although the woman wasn’t you.  I didn’t try and take advantage of
you.”

He stares at me and the breath is caught in my throat.  And I sort of feel like he kicked me in the stomach.  I tortured myself all day yesterday and he had slept with someone else?  When he didn’t even want me enough to try something with me when I had been in his bed last night? 

I am stunned and so I do the only thing any self-respecting woman in this situation can do. 

I walk away. 

“I’m out of here,” I mutter. 

One foot in front of the other, I retreat down the beach, my feet sinking into the sand.  My heart feels like it is sinking too, more and more with each step, and I focus on the ground in front of me, trying to ignore the piercing pain coming from my heart.  I know it’s illogical to be upset that he hadn’t tried to take advantage of me.  But under the circumstances, it is a bit hurtful.  And it wouldn’t have been a violation because I want him. 

And that’s why the whole thing is so hurtful. 

“Mila, wait!” Pax calls from behind me.  I hear his steps right behind me and I stop when he grabs my arm.  “Please, just wait.  I need to explain something.  And then, if you still want to, you can go.”

I turn slowly, staring at him in the face.  His is so anxious, his mouth tightly drawn.  I nod. 

“I can leave right now, if I wanted.  I don’t need your permission.  But I’ll hear what you have to say.”

His lip twitches, almost as if he finds my little show of independence funny.  I don’t see the humor.  I press my lips together, my hands on my hips as I wait. 

It looks like Pax is trying not to laugh again. 

“Well, obviously you can leave right now.  But you’d have to walk, unless you want to wait until I drive you.  Your car is still at the bar.”

I feel my face fall.  So much for being feisty.  I’m at his mercy right now. 

He stares at me, all traces of amusement gone from his face. 

“I need you to know something,” he says patiently.  “Can you come back and sit?”

I glance at the beach chairs where he had apparently spent the night and nod again, curtly, following him back.  I settle into one and instead of sitting in the one next to me, he sits on mine, beside my legs.  I wait.

It is a moment before he begins. 

“I’ve never talked about this with anyone, so it’s difficult to know where to begin,” he tells me with a wry smile.  “Bear with me, okay?”

I nod yet again, silent as I wait for him to just spit it out. 

“I’m fucked up,” he says bluntly and I can’t help but smile a little. 

“Well, that’s one way to start,” I tell him.  He smiles a little too, but it’s a sad smile, and my heart twinges a bit. 

“I know.  But I want to be completely honest with you.  I’m seriously fucked up.  I have never had a real relationship. All I’ve ever dealt with are bar whores, pardon the term, and I don’t really know how to be in a real relationship with a normal woman.  Yesterday, when you said that we weren’t a good idea, it hurt.  I don’t take rejection well.  And then I had to drive to Chicago for some business with my father and overall, it was just a shitty day.  I stopped by a little bar in the city and I ended up having sex with a woman there.  Because that’s what I do. I block out any kind of hurt or anger that I feel with drugs or women.”

He pauses and I’m numb as I stare at him. 

“You didn’t even know her?” I whisper. 

Pax shakes his head. 

“No.  I didn’t even know her.  But the strange part is that I couldn’t bring myself to finish.  All I could see in my head was you.  And all of a sudden, the dingy little bar closed in on me and I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.  I thought about you the entire drive home.  Then, when I saw you in the Bear’s Den, I almost couldn’t breathe.  But you were there with someone else, and you had already said that you didn’t want me.

“Mila, when that guy had you against his car, I saw red.  For the first time in a long time, I cared about something other than myself.  It didn’t matter to me if you wanted me or not, but I couldn’t let that guy hurt you.  That tells me a lot about myself.  And you.  It tells me that you are good for me, that trying to be with you is something that is worth my time and worth any kind of wait that it might entail, until you’re ready to be with me, too.”

He pauses now, his eyes frozen upon my face.  He’s waiting…for a response, for an answer, for another possible rejection. 

My heart is beating frozenly, as though the numbness of my emotions has spread to my chest.  I can see the broken little boy in his eyes again, the one that screams that he has been hurt, and once again, I long to fix it.  To fix him. 

Even though he just had sex with someone else last night in some dirty bar.  

Shit.  He just had sex with someone else last night in a dirty bar. 

I gulp hard at that ugly fact and stare at him.  What he did might have been ugly, but he’s absolutely beautiful right now with his fragility shining in his eyes.  My gut twists. 

Against my deepest misgivings, I somehow believe him.  I believe that it didn’t mean anything to him. I don’t know if that makes me as twisted as he is or what. The whole thing is crazy and I don’t know what to say.  All I know is what I feel. 

I want to take a chance.

My heart feels like it might stop beating if I don’t.

“Did you at least use protection?” I ask hesitantly.  “With the girl, I mean.”

Pax nods.  “Of course.”

“I’m probably crazy.  We aren’t even dating and you’ve cheated on me already.  But I have this insane attraction to you,” I tell him.  “When I’m not with you, I’m thinking about you.  I’ve never been attracted to someone like this before.  It has to mean something, right?  So, maybe we should see where this goes. But I need your word that you won’t be with anyone else while you’re with me.  I can’t tolerate that.  You’re going to have to find some other way to deal with your issues.  I’m really afraid, Pax. You’ve got issues that I don’t know what to do with.”