Love Resisted (The Real Love Series) (22 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

MIKE felt Allie shift against his body as she moved to get out of bed, but he wasn’t ready to let go. Pulling her tighter against him, she grunted, “If you don’t let me out of this bed, Lawson, you’ll be feeling an unpleasantly warm sensation any second. Especially if you squeeze my poor bladder like that again.”

He grumbled his dissatisfaction, but he released her. Knowing she could be snatched up again if she remained in arms’ reach, she quickly scurried away. Smiling to himself as he caught the view of her almost naked body, he closed his eyes and recalled winning the debate last night of why it was beneficial for her to sleep topless. Snorting a laugh at himself, he rolled over and stared up at the ceiling, enjoying his contentment.

When Allie came out of the bathroom fully dressed, he gave her a quizzical look and asked, “You
’re not coming back to bed, babe?”

Allie sat down in his chair by the window and began putting on her shoes. Without looking up at him she said, “No, I need to get my day started. I’ve got things to do today.”

Mike wasn’t sure what was going on, but her tone clearly indicated she was upset about something. He suddenly felt a little less victorious. It may have been in good fun, but he knew she was uncomfortable sleeping at his place without anything on while Zane was there. Which, admittedly, was only one day a week since college started; he knew he was a selfish bastard. Deciding the best course of action to avoid irritating her more, he offered, “Okay. I’ll get up and make you some breakfast.”

Allie halted him from getting out of bed. “No thanks. I’m not hungry this morning. Go back to sleep.”

Realizing she still hadn’t made eye contact with him, he knew he needed to address it. Flipping the sheet off, he reached for a pair of discarded pants and slipped them on just as she finished with her shoes. When she stood up, so did he. Momentarily thankful that his bed was in the path of her exit, he stepped up to her and prevented her progress. His hand went to her waist and the other to her neck, forcing her to tilt her head up to look at him. “Allie, what’s wrong?”

She was stiff against him, her eyes almost blank as she stared back at him. “Nothing’s wrong. I couldn’t sleep, and I have stuff to do. That’s all.”

Her words were almost believable. But the fact that he knew her so well told him otherwise; however, he also knew that if he pushed an inch, he’d lose a mile. Unfortunately, he wasn’t someone who could just let shit go, so he said, “It’s very obvious that there
is
something wrong. If it’s about your top last night, I’m sorry, I promise to behave in the future.”

She tried to remove herself from his hold. “No, I told you there’s nothing wrong.”

Sensing her rising tension, he knew all he could do was apologize, regroup, and give her a bit of breathing room. Leaning in, he kissed her softly, noticing that she didn’t kiss him back. “Okay sweetheart. We’ll let it go for now. You go get your day started and I’ll catch up to you later?”

Staring at his chest, she only nodded. He resisted the overwhelming need to hang on to her as anxiety began to take over. Releasing his grip, he watched as she quickly moved from his reach and left his bedroom without looking back. Gritting his teeth and clenching his fists at the tension that swamped him, he stayed rooted in place as he heard her close the front door. There was no way this was about what state of dress she slept in the night before, but he had no idea what it could be about.

Dropping to the edge of the bed, he rested his elbows on his knees and tried to come up with a reason for her behavior. For a brief moment, he contemplated if it was because he had told her he loved her. But that couldn’t be it since they spent most of night wrapped up in each other, and she was fine. Hell, she even instigated the third time they made love. It had seemed she accepted his declaration, and even if she hadn’t said it to him, he knew she felt the same. He was fine with waiting for her to be comfortable saying it back, but he wasn’t okay with holding it in any longer. So he took the risk and told her. He didn’t regret it.

He stood up and proceeded to get his day started. Deciding a good, hard run would be helpful, he dressed in his running gear and headed out. Looking back to where
Allie’s door was, he paused and watched it, like he could see her. He fought his need to go to her, not necessarily for her sake, but for his. Shaking his head, he turned and made his way toward the trail he often ran along the backside of the complex, telling himself that he would give Allie a few hours before he went after her.

He had felt her walls, which he’d successfully destroyed over the past months, slowly trying to
resurrect themselves. There was no way in hell he was going to let that happen. Coming up with a plan of attack was distracting enough to pass the miles as he pounded the pavement. Running was when he came up with his best ideas.

It wasn’t until the sun had gone down that Mike was able to catch up with Allie. Her car had been gone when he returned from his run. Knowing he said he would give her some time to get stuff done, he tried not to get angry at the fact that she had managed to avoid him all day. Not only was it rude, it was not how their relationship worked, and that concerned him. When she hadn’t returned home by lunchtime, he sent her text to find out if she was hungry. She never responded, and he finally ended up eating alone two hours later.

So when dinnertime rolled around, he once again sent a text about grabbing a bite together. Since this was what they normally did, he didn’t feel it was inappropriate. It was what people who loved each other did—looked out for one another, shared meals, laughed together. It was how things were for them.
Until now
, he thought sadly.

Mike wasn’t sure if his concern—fear, even—was because Allie was pulling away from him, or because he had no idea why. If he knew why, he could come up with a plan to fix it. He had broken down her resistance before, so he was certain he could do it again.

Making his way over to her place, he found the lights on. As per routine, he knocked on the door and then opened it. When he stepped inside, Allie almost startled when she exited her kitchen and found him there. That bothered him. Coming up short, she said, “Oh, I didn’t hear you come in. What’s up?”

She turned and walked over to set her phone down on the table, connecting it to her charger, before breezing past him again on her way back to the kitchen. She looked tired, her eyes were puffy, and she was a little shaky. Making his way into the kitchen, he watched as she put something into the microwave and then stared at it for the minute it was rotating, avoiding him. That was not going to work for him. Once she grabbed what he could now see was a mug of hot water, he pulled out a chair for her to sit down. When she ignored his offer and instead stood as far from him as possible, he raised his eyebrows in question.

His irritation was growing with every passing second she wasn’t responding. He knew he needed to remain level-headed, but damn did it piss him off when she was so blatantly being rude.
Time to poke the bear
, he thought as he pushed in the chair and leaned against the table, mimicking her stance.

“So, you
wanna tell me what the hell is going on with you?” he asked in a calm voice that didn’t reflect the inner turmoil he was feeling.

She finished taking the sip of her tea before slowly lowering it and saying, “What? I don’t spend the entire day with you so that means there has to be something going on with me? I’m allowed to have time to myself, you know.”

Her snarky attitude was ridiculous—they were beyond this—and it pissed him the hell off that she was doing this again, putting up those walls again.

“Okay … yes, of course you’re
allowed
time to yourself, Allie. Nobody said you weren’t, but this sudden change in attitude is taking me a little by surprise. We’ve developed a routine together, and you know it, so forgive me if the whiplash is shocking,” he stated matter-of-factly, trying to keep his own attitude in check. He may have thought he was going to “poke the bear,” but she was doing a good job at it, too.

“Whiplash? Don’t be so dramatic, Mike. I’m sure you can find things to do without me around,” she said, patronizing him.
Now who’s poking the bear
, he thought?

Taking a deep breath, he glared at her. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You wake up this morning and suddenly you can’t get far enough away from me. Forgive me if I’m being
dramatic
, but I deserve an answer.”

Putting her cup of tea down on the counter next to her, she stood to her full height and crossed her arms over her
chest. The mixture of insecurity and irritation was evident in her stance. She was gearing up for a fight with him. He’d seen this with her before, but he was surprised it was back.

“I just gave you an answer. I’m allowed time to myself, my own space. And if you don’t like it, then you know where the damn door is.”

“Seriously? That’s how you’re going to handle this? You get to be bitchy to me, then give me the
there’s the door
line.”

Her body went even more rigid as she glared back at him. Not able to resist the need to get closer to her, he crossed the kitchen is three quick strides. Crowding her personal space, he pressed his body up against hers. He wanted the contact, needed it. He hoped that she would absorb it, too, and relax into him. The tension radiating off of her was palpable, and even though he was bothered by how she was acting, he knew that the only way they could get to the bottom of it, was for her to relax. He had to get past her guard.

Caging her in against the counter with one arm near her waist, his other went to the back of her neck. Unlike that morning, she was looking at him this time, clearly trying to stand her ground. Her arms remained crossed in front of her, a barrier between them. Taking a moment to compose his voice carefully, he pleaded, “Let me back in. I’m not sure what’s going on, but I know we can fix it. Together.
Please
… let me in.”

Body still tense, and eyes still locked on his, she said in an even tone, “I’m not yours to fix, Mike.”

Confused at her words, he gave her a questioning look and clarified, “Allie, I didn’t say we could fix
you
. I said fix
this
.” He made sure to emphasize the word
this
by gesturing between them.

“Same difference,” she said with a scowl.

He felt like he’d entered a different world. There was no way, or reason why, she should think he wanted to fix her. For the first time in a long while, he wasn’t sure what to do because it suddenly felt like he wasn’t welcome in her space. Even all the times before she stopped resisting him, he didn’t sense the coldness he was getting from her now.

Taking a step back, he asked in a voice that clearly portrayed his shock, “You really think I want to fix you, Allie?” After a few moments with no response from her, he continued, “Do you honestly think that I would change a single goddamn thing about you?”

All she did was glare at him. She stood there, her eyes puffy from obviously crying at some point and pale skin like she almost wasn’t feeling well. Her disheveled, windblown hair showing him she hadn’t done anything to take care of herself that day. Even in her current state, he couldn’t help but think of how beautiful she was. Both inside and out. And it was a kick to the gut to think that for some reason, she didn’t believe him.

Taking another step back, he stated, instead of asking, “You really think I want to change you. I’ve never done or
said anything to warrant you feeling that way.” Running a frustrated hand through his hair, he paced a step or two before turning back to a still silent woman.

“From the moment I laid eyes on you, I’ve felt a connection. I have done everything in my power to make sure you knew that. I have wanted you—broken pieces and all—since the beginning, and you
know
that.”

He could hear his voice climbing with each word, but he couldn’t stop the hurt he was feeling at the accusation her silence was making. He continued, “Every goddamn broken piece of you, I’ve wanted! It’s you, it’s who you are, and I refuse to stand here and accept that you think I have been trying to fix you, when all I’ve been doing is trying to love you.”

She finally broke her silence and stepped forward. “I think you’re in love with the idea of fixing me. You can hide behind my broken state and then nobody will focus on yours. Including you!”

He reared his head back, as though he’d been slapped. “Are you saying you actually believe that I
’m hiding my broken state behind the idea of fixing you? Like I have some kind of guilt to work out?”

Allie crossed her arms back over her chest and maintained a strong stance as she went silent again. The silence seemed to offer more answers than he wanted. She was feeling guilty and displacing that onto him.

“So that’s what this is about? Guilt? Or should we call it fear?” When she blinked rapidly, he saw a piece of her armor slip, and he knew he was on to something. “Do you think you’re the only one who’s afraid around here, Allie? I know exactly what it’s like to have loved and lost. You think I feel guilt, but I don’t. I’ve come to peace with my loss, and there is absolutely no reason for me to feel guilty for loving you. But I will admit to fear.”