Scared of Forever (Scared #2) (7 page)

This morning is no
different than any other. Last night I heard Blake leave, and then I
heard the noise from the screaming match in Tyler’s apartment. I
couldn’t make out what they were saying through the walls, but it
didn’t sound good. I make Blake’s coffee and lay on the bed as he
changes.

“Did you remember we
have lunch with Maia and Jackson today?” I ask, deciding to bury
the hatchet.

“Oh shit, I forgot.
I’m sorry baby, apologize for me. I won’t be able to get out of
work,” he replies gently, a far cry from the angry and accusatory
Blake I met last night.

“No problem,” I say
shortly. We had made this lunch date days ago. As I’m about to walk
over to grab my clothes for work, I notice a red raised mark on
Blake’s back. Just as I’m about to go closer to inspect it, he
quickly slips on his business shirt and glances very briefly in my
direction.

“Did you get hurt?”
I ask, taking a step towards him.

“Huh, where?” Blake
asks without looking up from his sock drawer.

“On your back,” I
answer. “It looks like a scratch or something.”

“Oh, that. Yeah. I
banged into a supply shelf at work yesterday, you know how crazy the
ER can get,” Blake replies quickly.
Too
quickly.

“Be careful. Oh hey,
do you think your mother would mind me redecorating a little? I mean,
I know she owns the apartment, so I don’t want to ruffle her
feathers.” I keep my eyes fixed on his, trying to discern if he is
telling the truth. His eyes are clear, unfaltering, and stare openly
at me.

“I don’t see why
not,” he replies “But, I kind of like it as it is. Make sure you
run the changes by me first.”

If he is lying, he’s
good at it. I can’t tell one way or the other. I give him a kiss on
the cheek before entering my walk-in closet.
I
don’t know how crazy the ER can get, actually.
What I do
know is that that didn’t look like a knock from a supply shelf from
my vantage point. And I wanted to see if Tyler was telling the truth
about the apartment. I don’t really even know why it matters so
much to me, just that it does.

Blake kisses me sweetly
before leaving for work. For the first time since we met, I’m glad
he’s gone. He didn’t give me anything to work with regarding the
apartment. Not more than three minutes later, I hear a knock at the
door.

“Morning,” says a
very fresh-faced but sweating Tyler as I open the door. His hair
clings to his damp forehead and neck. His shoulders glisten with what
is perhaps morning dew and sweat. He works hard at catching his
breath as he stands at my door. The whole image before me is, well,
bordering on erotic.

“Hi,” I say with
uncertainty. I’m fairly sure Blake takes issue with me talking to
his brother. Especially with him looking so positively post-coital.
I’m also fairly sure that I
don’t give a damn.

“Just finished my
run, and I’m heading out for coffee. Care to join?” he asks with
a smile.

“I’d love to,” I
reply politely, “but I have to get to work.” I work hard to keep
my distance from him.

“Perfect, we’ll
grab one on the way. If you walk, that is? Do you walk to work?” he
asks persistently.

I consider saying ‘no’
and catching a cab, but Tyler looks so genuine that I reply, “I do,
but I need a few minutes.”

“So do I,” he says,
gesturing at the wet white tank that clings to his toned and
profusely sweaty chest. I silently scold myself for all the impure
thoughts that filter through my mind as I look upon this very well
built man.

Closing the door
quickly, I put on black pants and a tank top with a black cardigan,
apply the little makeup I wear, and slip on my ballet flats before
walking out into the corridor. Surprisingly, when I open the door,
Tyler is already there, waiting.

“Did you even use
soap?” I jibe.

“Always,” he says,
offering me a dazzling smile. And reintroducing me to his left-sided
dimple. “I didn’t want to keep you waiting.”

I feel strangely
comfortable with Tyler, even though I probably shouldn’t. Before
long, the tension that I felt earlier eases as we walk, coffees in
hand, to the beauty salon.

“Really!” I laugh,
“Blake really had braces, a retainer,
and
teenage acne?”

“Yep,” Tyler
laughs. “He looked like his face was a train track running through
the Rocky Mountains.” He takes a swig of his coffee.

I smile. Tyler is the
only person who has volunteered any information about Blake that was
not a snide opportunity to antagonize me. The man is a complete and
utter gentleman. But it’s his eyes. His eyes are so sincere. I like
looking at them. It’s dangerous, but I do.

“What about you? What
made you leave a nice, quiet country town and come out here?” he
asks, staring up with dismay at the monstrously ugly buildings
surrounding us.

“My mother passed
away when I was fifteen. Then it was just my sister, my dad and I.
Until he died of a heart attack about six months ago.” I choke back
tears, the memory of my father’s death still so raw and real. “My
sister took off about a year ago with her boyfriend. I haven’t
heard from her since.” The truth is, I miss my baby sister. I wish
she would have stayed with me. But she was always so defiant and
headstrong. I was always the even-tempered daughter, the one who did
what she was told and managed the house.
The
responsible one
. “So basically I had no reason to stay
there anymore.”

“Wow, you came here
alone? That’s brave,” Tyler says, with genuine respect. “I hope
that you remember to keep that independence alive, even though you’re
marrying my brother.”

“What do you mean?
That’s why I still work. I’m not interested in Blake’s money,
or the family’s,” I defend, slightly irritated at the allusion.

“I don’t mean that.
I mean, you shouldn’t ever be just Blake’s wife, or Eliza
Carson’s daughter in law, or some average wife on the society page
of the paper,” Tyler says. “It’s easy to get sucked into this
world. From the outside, it looks awesome. On the inside though,
well, it’s just an ugly place. Believe me, I have firsthand
insight.”

“Why do you care so
much? What is the deal with you and Blake, and you and your mother,
for that matter?” I ask, increasingly curious.

Tyler shrugs his
shoulders lazily. “Firstly, it’s because you seem like a nice
girl, and I’m trying to look out for you. That’s it, I swear. I
know my family, and all about how they are. And secondly, Blake and I
fought over a girl. Eliza and I don’t speak because I chose to be a
freelance photographer instead of becoming yet another Dr. Carson,
refused to date her friends’ daughters, and— some other things.”

Great,
now the other brother was being evasive, too!

I turn my head towards
the nearest shop front and don’t recognize the intersection at
which we are currently standing.

“Shit!” I exclaim.
“I think we missed the beauty salon.”

“Okay, how far back?”
Tyler asks, turning and looking back over his shoulder.

“A couple of blocks,”
I say.

“Really?” he
laughs. “I was that entertaining, huh?”

“Get over yourself!”
I reprimand.

Tyler says farewell as
we finally reach the beauty salon. I walk in, and nearly run into Mac
and Janie, both salivating behind the glass door.

“Who the hell is
that?” Mac asks, his voice rising with an excited lilt.

“Oh, that’s just
Tyler, Blake’s baby brother,” I say nonchalantly.

“Shut up! Are you
screwing both brothers?” Mac exclaims. “You little tramp, I had
no idea you were like that!”

“What? No! He was
walking this way, that’s all,” I say quickly. So I embellished
the truth a little. I wonder, ever so briefly, if I did that because
I felt like I was betraying Blake, or because I didn’t want to deal
with twenty questions from Mac, or simply because I didn’t want to
admit to myself that, in all the months that I had been here, that
that was the best and most honest conversation I’d had.

Later on, Janie
reluctantly agrees to let me off to an extended lunch break to meet
up with Maia and Jackson. Since I lost the bet to Mac yesterday, I
had three extra Brazilians to do. Luckily, he took pity on me and
agreed to cover them if I brought him back a Crème Brule frappe from
his favorite café.

Killing two birds with
one stone, I text Maia to ask them to meet me there.

When I arrive, they’re
already inside, curled into each other in one of the booths. Maia is
casually tracing small circles on Jackson’s chest, while his hand
rests leisurely on her thigh. They are the cutest couple I have ever
met.
Just made for each other.

All my life, this was
the kind of love I had dreamed of, one filled with comfort and ease.
The ability to just exist with each other in perfect synchronicity.

“Hi, guys,” I
greet, smiling as I settle into the chair opposite them. “Blake
couldn’t be here, he had to work. He said to apologize to you
guys.”

“No problem,” Maia
says brightly. “We love you just as much.” She stands and leans
over to give me a brief but warm hug. “How are you guys doing?
Wedding date set yet?”

“No,” I say
hesitantly, before looking up to give the waitress my order. “You
guys may just beat us to it!”

“Not likely,”
Jackson says looking sweetly at Maia. “We’re happy like this for
now.”

Maia and Jackson talk
animatedly about Brown, about her charity work, and life in general.
I smile politely, and answer when required. But mostly, I stare down
absently at the table in front of us.

“Is everything okay,
Em? You don’t seem like yourself,” Maia observes softly.

I don’t really know
if I want to talk about this in front of Jackson. But like the
gentleman he is, he sees my hesitation and excuses himself to go to
the men’s room.

“Okay, now speak,”
Maia commands gently after he leaves. “Are you getting cold feet?”

“Did you ever feel
like Jackson was not the person you thought he was? Like before he
met you he had a whole other life, and not a good one?” I ask
cautiously.

“He did,” Maia
replies simply. “But there was never a minute that I didn’t truly
feel like he really loved me. Even in the moments where I didn’t
believe it myself. I see the way Blake looks at you. He clearly loves
you. But I get the sense that you’re a little unsure about you
guys.”

“I know he loves me,”
I say. “But there are just all these little things that I can’t
seem to explain away. Did you know he had a brother, who I met last
night? Apparently, they hate each other because of a girl. And his
mother said something weird about striking while the iron is hot, in
case he gets away. And his brother said something about him owning
the apartment we live in, when he told me that it was his mother’s.
And I swear to God, this morning I saw a new tattoo on his back, when
he told me he was working late. I’m pretty sure the hospital
doesn’t issue tattoos as part of their benefit package!”

I realized that my
voice had spiked at the end, and I had barely taken a breath. But
soon, it all comes pouring out. The status of Blake and my
relationship, which, two days ago was good, relegated to a few
speculative and angry sentences.

Maia doesn’t say
anything for a few minutes, letting me breathe. “Em, everything you
just said came from the mouth of someone else. Except for the tattoo
thing. Wait, Blake has other tattoos?”

It relieves me to hear
that Maia knows nothing about Blake’s tattoos. It means that they
never slept together.
At least
he didn’t lie about that
.

“Maybe you should ask
him,” she suggests. “Just come right out and ask.”

“And if I’m wrong?
Blake is all I have here. I have no family left at home, or anywhere
else, really. Without Blake, I truly am alone in this world.” A
single tear falls down my left cheek. I refuse to cry any further. I
just… refuse.

“And that’s why you
want to torture yourself, wondering?” Maia asks. “You have
friends. You have me, and Jackson. If Blake is lying to you, I
promise that you can rely on us. I won’t take his side if he hurts
you deliberately.”

Maia’s words warm me.
And now I have Tyler
.
The thought invades my mind without warning. I quickly flick it
aside. “Thank you,” I whisper, just as Jackson returns to the
table. The rest of lunch ambles along leisurely. I relax into their
company, so grateful for a down to earth conversation. No pomp or
arrogance or worrying about political correctness.

When it’s time to get
back to work, I reluctantly say goodbye to Maia and Jackson. Maia
gives me a fierce hug. “I’ll call you soon,” she whispers,
before they leave, hand in hand.