Made to Love (11 page)

Reagan

“Uncle Buddy” came to visit me in my room
for the first time five months after Charlie left.  He hadn’t made a sound as
he’d sat on the edge of my bed, and I’d sensed his presence rather than heard
it.  I’d clutched the covers to my neck, paralyzed with fear, as I’d
frantically searched the dark corners of my room for Jacob.  But he’d
apparently woken up some time during the night and had gone back to his own
room.  I was on my own.

Uncle Buddy wasn’t gonna hurt me, no, he
just wanted to give me a hug.  And should I be dumb enough to scream, well,
little Alex was just in the other room.  And we wouldn’t want anything to
happen to him, now would we?  He’d picked me up, sat me on his lap and wrapped
me in a bear hug.  I’d sat at still as I could, fearing the worst, but he’d
been true to his word.  He’d just wanted a hug.  Never mind that his arms were
like unyielding bands of steel, wrapped around my own, effectively trapping
them so I was unable to move.  He’d held me in a vice grip for what seemed like
hours, while I stared at the wall, exhausted but too frightened to fall back
asleep.  Finally, he’d stood up and laid me back down in my bed and walked out
my door just as silently as he’d came in.  I’d been too scared to get up and
change the pajamas I’d peed in, and had instead laid there, silently crying,
until fatigue had overtaken me and I’d fallen asleep. 

And so began six months of hugs from Uncle
Buddy.  I lived in constant fear that each night would be the night he would do
something to really hurt me, or my brothers.  For six long months, I sat
trapped in his arms, and for six long months, I continued to wet the bed.  I
took great pains to hide this from my brothers; Alex was too little to really
understand, but Jacob may have actually taken it upon himself to do something
about my nightly visitor.  And I couldn’t risk anything happening to him. 
After Charlie, Jacob was the only protection I had, little though it was.  So
of course telling him was not an option.  My mother was oblivious, as always,
so telling her was pointless, as well.  And finally, after six months of my own
private hell, Uncle Buddy just simply stopped showing up.  I had stayed up all
night, sitting on the edge of my bed, out of my mind from fear and lack of
sleep, but he’d never showed.  I never saw him again.

                And that was that. 

I blinked, realizing Nathan was staring down
at me, confusion spread across his features.  I cursed myself for not having
made my self-imposed dating restrictions clear long before now.  I should have
known. 

He dropped his arms and I immediately put
space between us.  Cold sweat covered my back, and I was on the verge of
completely losing it.  I had to get out of here before that happened.  I
reached blindly for my discarded blouse, grabbing it and shoving my arms
clumsily inside. 

 “Thank you for dinner.  I should really be
going.  I’m sorry.”  I stumbled over my words, refusing to look at Nathan and
see the disgust I knew would be in his eyes.  He had to be wondering what kind
of dick tease he had invited to his home.  Things had been going so good, and I
had impatiently waited throughout his entire tour for him to bring me to this
room.  I had wanted to be here, anticipated it; promising myself I was going to
forget all the reasons why I shouldn’t be and just let whatever happened,
happen.   Nathan wasn’t an idiot, and I’m sure he could read all the signals I
had been giving him.  To go from
that,
to
this?   

I was a mess, a panic ridden, complicated
mess.  And men like Nathan Preston didn’t do complicated or messy.  They didn’t
have to. 

I said nothing more, and hurried out of the
room and down the stairs, hastily buttoning my shirt as I went.  I was in the
kitchen grabbing my bag when he caught up to me.   

“Reagan, what’s wrong?  I don’t--”

I halted mid-step on my way to the door. 
“It’s. . . .Nothing, okay?  Shit, I’m sorry.  So very sorry.” Tears made my
voice shaky, and threatened to spill out the corners of my eyes. 
Damn! 
“I
just really need to go.”

“Wait,” he said hastily.  “Let me drive you. 
It’ll take forever to get a cab.”

My heart fractured.  Why was he being so
nice?  I didn’t want him being nice.  I wanted him to be careless.  I wanted
him to toss me aside as easily as a misguided attempt at a late night booty
call.  I wanted him to get rid of me so I could fall apart away from his
relentless gaze, and not have to explain the very painful reasons for my
actions of the last five minutes.  It would be so much easier.  “No, please. .
. I—“

He walked slowly around to stand in front of
me, and I stared at his feet, still unwilling to meet his gaze.  He reached out
a hand as if to touch my arm, but then dropped it.  “Let me call my driver
then.  He’s just a few streets over.  Please, I insist.”

I tightened my hold on my bag, and gave a
small nod of my head.  He quickly left to make a phone call, and I heard
muffled sounds of his voice coming from the other room.  I closed my eyes and
slowly counted to ten, forcing myself to take deep breaths.  I had never been
so mortified.  

“Max will be here in minutes,” Nathan announced
upon returning to the foyer.  “Reagan, I—“

“Thank you, Nathan.  You didn’t have to do
that.”  Why couldn’t he just let me go?

I felt the heat of his gaze, even as I made a
big show of putting on my heels by the door.  Once done, there was nothing but
awkward silence between us.  I knew I should explain, he deserved at least that
much, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.  I hadn’t explained myself since I
was thirteen and Helen had made me see a therapist.  I’d never spoken of Uncle
Buddy’s visits to another living soul since then, and my stomach lurched
violently at the thought of having to do so now. 

His cell phone beeped loudly in the silence,
startling us both.  He slowly, hesitantly, reached past me and opened the door,
allowing me to walk out before him.  The Escalade was back, and Nathan’s driver
was standing at the back passenger door, waiting for me.  I started to climb
in, but at the last minute I couldn’t help myself.  I turned to Nathan and
found him watching me, confusion and bewilderment in his eyes.  He looked as if
he wanted to speak, but didn’t.

“Thank you, for tonight.  You outdid
yourself. . . “I stopped, staring hard into his eyes.  I wanted to scream in
rage at the thought this thing between us may be over before it ever truly began. 
A slight dip of his head was the only acknowledgement he gave at hearing my
words.  His driver was still waiting patiently by the door, so I turned and crawled
into the backseat.  Nathan quietly gave Max my address, and after another
moment of awkward silence where I refused to look at him, he shut the door. 
Max climbed in the driver’s seat and without another word, we were off. 

I watched Nathan in the rearview mirror as we
drove away.  I felt as if I was breaking into a million pieces, although I knew
I had no real right to feel this way.  So yeah, we were obviously attracted to
one another, and yeah, we had been well on our way to things getting very
physical, but it wasn’t as if we were dating.  We weren’t in a relationship.  I
didn’t even do relationships, not really, and I had no idea if he did either. 
There was so much about him I didn’t know, and quite obviously a wealth of
things he had no clue about me.  . .so why was I feeling as if I’d lost the
most important thing in the world to me?  I hadn’t
had
Nathan; how could
I lose him?

We turned a corner and he fell out of sight. 
I stifled a sob and continued to stare out the window, buildings racing by in a
blur.  Max, God bless his soul, kept silent, not giving me so much as a glance
as he drove.  Something told me this was not the first time he’d whisked some
woman of Nathan’s off in the night.  I hated that I was one of them.  Because
even now, I wanted to be back at his house, in his arms, in his bed.  I wanted
it badly.  It was the cruelest of ironies that the first time I actually wanted
someone to hold me, he wasn’t able to because I turned to stone the second he
tried.  I despised this about myself, and not for the first time, I imagined
being twelve years old again and putting a bullet in Uncle Buddy’s face. 

I closed my eyes against the image. 
Seriously? 
Complicated and messy didn’t begin to describe me.

Max pulled up in front of my apartment
building and I mumbled a hasty “Thanks” and hurried to the door.  He waited
until I was inside and then drove off.   Once inside, I headed to the bathroom
and stripped down.  Turning on the hot water, I stepped inside and slid down
against the shower wall, finally succumbing to the myriad of emotions that had
raged through me in the last hour.  As the hot water pounded across my body,
and mixed with the salty tears that streamed down my face, I rested my head on
my bent knees and wondered how I would ever face Nathan again.

Nathan

I stood in my office, overlooking the city
through the large window behind my desk.  Tension radiated from my shoulders,
and I was battling a splitting headache.  I felt like an animal that had been
caged for too long, snapping at anyone who dared to get too close.  I’d muddled
through an early morning meeting as best I could, put in a call to Robert
Johnson, and then had retreated to my office to brood in relatively
uninterrupted peace.  Thankfully, my secretary had been with me long enough to
recognize my mood and was doing her best to intercept all calls and visitors.

It was now just after seven o’clock.  A full
twenty four hours since the disastrous dinner at my house with Reagan last
night.  Twenty four hours, and I had neither saw or heard from her.  I had
tried to reach her throughout the day, to no avail.  It was amazing to me that
I didn’t have her cell number—and I had plans to rectify that immediately—but,
my two IM’s had been unanswered, and my frequent trips throughout the building
had yielded nothing, other than taking me away from the mountain of work
waiting for me in my office.  I had half suspected she had taken to hiding out
at home, but George had confirmed she’d arrived at the office rather early this
morning.  So she’d been hiding out here instead.  It was obvious something had
happened last night; something I’d done or said, unaware of the effect it was
having on her.  I had racked my brain since then, seeing the events of the
evening over and over in my mind like some movie on replay, trying to figure
out where I’d gone wrong.  She’d been into me; I didn’t doubt that at all. 
She’d wanted to be there.  Sure, she’d been nervous, but she’d been just as
aware and willing for what lay ahead as I was.  And then, out of nowhere, she’d
clammed up.  Just completely shut down and got the hell out of there.  Either
something was very wrong, or she was the biggest dick tease I’d ever met and
I’d been played a fool.  Somehow I doubted it was the latter.

Which meant something was wrong. 
What the
hell was it?
  I needed to speak to her, see her, and find out how to make
this right.  She was making every attempt to avoid me, but I knew those
attempts were a pretense at best.  All I had to do was march into her office
and demand to meet with her.  I could come up with any number of business
related reasons as to why, and as much as she valued work appearances, I
figured she’d forgo making a scene and allow me in.  But knowing I could force
her to see me didn’t make me feel right in doing it.  I didn’t want to force
her to do anything.  I wanted her to see me because she
wanted
to. 

I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my
nose.  I had popped three Ibuprofen an hour ago but they didn’t seem to be
working.  Damn.  I never got this worked up over a woman.  Perhaps I needed to
take a step back, reevaluate, and get some clarity.  There was only one person
since Thomas that I knew could give it to me.

                “Nathan, what’s up?” Jake Miles had been my
best friend in college.  We’d been inseparable, and even though we’d parted
ways a few years back, what with me having to fill in after Thomas’s death, and
him getting married, we’d remained close.  If there was anyone that could make
me see straight, it would be Jake.

“I need to talk.  Got a minute?” I cut to the
chase.  Friendship aside, I was not in the mood for frivolous chatter.

“Actually, I was going to call you.   I just
landed at LaGuardia.  We have a lot to catch up on.”

“The Temple?  In an hour?”

“See you there.”

I pressed the end call button, and grabbing
my suit jacket, I headed down to my car.  Jake was in town and despite my pissy
mood, I couldn’t squelch the excitement at seeing my old friend.  I knew he’d
been recently separated and was going through a divorce, and wondered what had
brought him back to the city.  I could only hope he was back for good.  I’d
sorely missed having him around.   

I arrived at The Temple, nostalgia hitting me
as I glimpsed Jake at a table near the back.  He and I had closed this place
down on more than one occasion in our day.  I couldn’t stop the smile spreading
across my face as I joined him.

“It’s been too long, bro,” he stated,
clapping me on the back.

“That it has.  You in town long?”  I signaled
a waitress and ordered a beer.

“Thinking about it.  I’m here to check out
the real estate, see what I can find.” 

“No shit?  Huh.”

Jake had been living in Delaware for the past
few years with his wife and young son.  He’d completed medical school there,
and last I knew had been doing his residency at a local ER.  He answered the
question forming in my mind.

“I shit you not.  This thing with Heather? 
Let’s just say I needed a change of scenery, and coming back to our old
stomping grounds sounded as good as any place else.”  He took a long pull from
his beer and sighed.

“And Noah?”  I knew how much Jake loved his
son.  Moving several hours from him had to be difficult.

“Yeah, that’s gonna suck,” he admitted.  “But
it’s only a little over a three hour drive, and Heather’s agreed to let me have
him for the summer and we’ll be on a holiday rotation.  Plus, I can drive over
anytime I want.  At least she’s being gracious about that.”  He was trying to
disguise it, but the sarcasm creeping into his voice as he referenced his
estranged wife was hard to miss.

“But enough about me.  You said you needed to
talk, and I can only assume you’ve got trouble with a woman.  So, tell me. 
What’s the problem?”

I didn’t bother to deny it as I drained the
rest of my beer.  Twenty minutes later, I was halfway through my second beer
and leaned back, waiting for Jake’s words of wisdom.

He ran a hand through his black hair,
disbelief clouding his gaze.  “So let me get this straight.  You meet this girl
on an elevator in your building, and are so hot to get in her pants you
basically resort to blackmail to get her hired.  The first time you touch her she
runs and goes MIA for three days.  And the first time you make her dinner, and
get her in your bedroom, she runs from you.  Again.  And you’re asking
me
what you should do.”  He shook his head.  “Dude, tell me what I’m missing
here.”

 Hearing the way he put it did nothing to
help my mood.  Was it really as juvenile as he made it sound?   I hated myself
already.  “I did not resort to blackmail,” I retorted.   “It was a strong
suggestion, and one Isaac was wise enough to concede to.  And your mental
capacity has always been questionable so I can’t really say what you are
missing.”

Jake threw his head back and laughed.  “My
point is, hard to get has never been your preference.  Too much work,
remember?  I’m curious as to why you haven’t moved on by now.”

“This coming from the man who married his
‘hard to get’.”   My mood was growing increasingly blacker.  The truth was,
Jake was right.  Any other time I would have long since moved on to someone
else.  God knows there were plenty of hopefuls waiting for the chance to try me
and my black AMEX on for size.  So why hadn’t I?  It was a loaded question and
one I wasn’t ready to answer.

“Yeah, and we both know how well that has
worked out for me, don’t we?  She’s getting remarried and I’m here shooting the
shit with your sorry ass.”

It was my turn to concede to his point.  I
sighed heavily, wondering if perhaps the answer was really as simple as Jake
made it sound.  Move on.  Could I do that?  I was mentally tossing the idea
around when Jake leaned in and rested his arms on the table.

“Look.  All joking aside, the fact that this
girl has rattled you enough to seek me out tells me she’s different.  Question
is, does she rattle you because she’s making you work for it, or is it that
she’s making you feel things you aren’t used to?  Is it the chase that’s
keeping your attention, or is it
her?
Maybe she’s running because you
freak her out too, and she doesn’t know how to handle that.  Or, maybe she’s
just a cock tease.  Hell, I don’t know.  But if she’s got you this worked up,
you owe it to yourself to find out.”

And this is why I kept Jake around.  Because
at the end of the day, he always knew how to make me see reason. 

“Do I get to meet this girl?  Shit, maybe I
can take over; relieve you of the stress.” 

I knew he meant it as a joke, but it didn’t
stop the irrational urge I suddenly felt to plant my fist in his face.  Jake
and I had shared women before.  On more than one occasion, one of us would step
in to cover for why the other was suddenly busy and was never around.  It was
always easier to recover from a break up, or from being discarded, truth be
told, if there was someone else there ready to soothe hurt feelings.  But the
thought of anything between him and Reagan left me feeling slightly queasy. 

“I’ll let you know,” I dead-panned.  I tossed
some bills on the table, and after securing a promise that he’d let me know if
he needed help with the move, Jake and I said our goodbyes and I headed home.

He was right.  I couldn’t possibly end this
thing with Reagan until I was sure of what I was feeling.  Until I could put a
name to it, and then decide if I could move past it.  To do this, I needed to
tread carefully.  For some unknown reason, she spooked easily and I’d never get
the closure I needed if our relationship consisted entirely of her running and
me chasing.  Attraction aside, even I wouldn’t be satisfied with that for much
longer.  No, I needed to take a more subtle approach if I expected this to
progress.  I wanted to know what had made her freak the hell out, but knew I
needed her trust before she’d reveal that to me. 

Reagan
was
different.  Just what that
meant for me remained to be seen.