Believing Bailey

by Linda Kage

  He looked so devastated; I knew I had to change the subject, if only for my own peace of mind. It tore me up just thinking about what had happened to him; I could only guess what it did to him.

  Wanting to distract him, and say something witty and fun and happy, anything to lighten the mood—that’s what Tess would’ve done for me—I opened my mouth and, “My mom died when I was seven,” I blurted.

  Then I frowned at myself. Wait, that wasn’t light or witty or even remotely happy. What the hell, Bailey?

  But Beck watched me, a captive audience, so I cleared my throat. “I don’t remember her. At all. We were in a car accident together, Mom and I. I guess she died instantly, but I was trapped inside with her for a while. It must’ve done something traumatic to me.” I shrugged. “I don’t know, because I don’t remember it, and I don’t remember her either. I mean, I remember nothing about her. I was seven when she died, I should have memories, right? But I don’t. It’s like I completely wiped all existence of her from my memory banks.” Then I nudged his arm and snickered, “How’s that for a sucky, ungrateful daughter?”

  Beck just stared at me as if not comprehending. “I’m confused,” he finally admitted. “How could you completely forget her?”

  “I don’t know,” I admitted. “The brain is a crazy, complicated thing, I guess. My dad and brothers played it off like I’d been too young to have memories of her when she died, which probably didn’t help me remember anything, but Tess and I got into this huge fight last year and she accidently blurted out how old I’d really been, so—”

  “Wait, who’s Tess?”

  I stopped talking, completely thrown off guard as I blinked stupidly at him.

  He wrinkled his brow and asked, “What?”

  It seemed impossible that he didn’t know who Tess was. Tess was my foundation, my go-to person. She was the best part of me.

  Shaking my head, I said, “She’s my best friend. She’s been my friend since forever, since we were babies. She even remembers my mom. She’s actually one of my roommates here in the apartment: her and her boyfriend Jonah and our other friend Paige along with Paige’s boyfriend Logan.”

  Now Beck seemed even more confused. “You live with two couples?” His nose wrinkled. “Oh, that’s got to suck.”

  I snorted, a little happy he actually got it. “You have no idea.”

  He grinned back, before shaking his head and frowning. “Now why would Tess do that do you? Seems like kind of a shitty move to wait all this time before telling you.”

  “I deserved it,” I assured him. “Trust me. I was the sucky friend first.”

  He scowled as if he couldn’t believe that, but I nodded. “I was. But in any case, the truth came out, so I visited my mom’s grave at the cemetery. Can you believe I’d been out there dozens of times in my life and I’d never paid attention to the year she died on her tombstone before? I mean, how blind can one person get? I felt so stupid and…and…”

  “Betrayed?” Beck guessed.

  I swallowed and stared at him. “Yeah,” I admitted softly. “I felt a little betrayed too. Why hadn’t anyone just told me?”

  “They probably thought they were protecting you, though yeah, it was still pretty awful and stupid of them. I mean, they had to know you’d find out eventually.”

  “And what the hell did they think they were protecting me from?” I sniffed. “Did they think I wasn’t strong enough to handle the truth? I mean, screw that shit. I thrive off the goddamn truth.”

  Laughing softly, Beckett nodded. “Yeah, that I believe.”

  I scowled and demanded, “What the hell does that mean? What’s wrong with being honest?”

  He shook his head but kept grinning. “Nothing at all,” he assured me. “I love your brand of honesty. You’re so transparent I’m pretty sure I don’t have to ever guess what you’re thinking.”

  If only he knew how transparent and honest I’d been before he’d come into my life. Even I knew I blurted out too much of my honesty before. I’d actually clamped up quite a bit since meeting him. But I didn’t tell him how I no longer divulged every detail of my life to Tess anymore, or how every thought in my head no longer spilled from my mouth. I thought shit through first—like, now for example; I wasn’t telling him how much I wanted to lean forward and press my mouth to his, just because it seemed like it’d feel right.

  He had a pretty-shaped mouth and his electric blue eyes looked like they were practically dancing right now. I felt close to him. And a kiss seemed like the perfect way to show that.

  But instead, I cleared my throat and repositioned myself on the bed as if I was trying to get comfortable. “I don’t have classes tomorrow, since you know, it’s Saturday. But I do have to get up early to go to work.”

  He sighed out a breath as if sad that meant our talk was over. “Okay.” His voice was quiet and eyes somber as he leaned in toward me. I froze, holding my breath and wondering, oh my God, was he going to kiss me, right before he pressed his lips chastely to the center of my forehead.

  I nearly wept.

  “I’ll let you get some sleep then,” he whispered.

  I blinked at him, feeling rejected because he’d made such a friendly gesture, a friendly platonic gesture that was in no way whatsoever sexual or passionate, probably because he didn’t feel sexual or passionate about me, period.

  Though, honestly, how could he? He was this gorgeous, electric-blue-eyed piece of man candy, and I was, well, I was me. The short, opinioned, fat, ugly cow, according to a couple lovely classmates, who didn’t know when to keep her mouth shut and was willing to lie for a rapist in order to score a simple date.

  I shuddered and closed my eyes, turning my back to him so he wouldn’t see if a tear or two slipped out. “Good night,” I said as cheerfully as I could muster.

  Except, in return, he sounded pretty somber when he murmured, “`Night, Bailey.”

  Chapter 20

  BECKETT

  I waited until her breathing changed before I reached out and touched her hair as softly as I could without waking her. She didn’t stir, so I curled a couple more strands around my finger, wondering what she’d do if I ever touched her like this when she was awake.

  It would’ve been nice if I could say she was hard to read, but Bailey was unfortunately all too easy to read. She said what she thought and did what she said, and the unfortunate part was I’m pretty damn certain she didn’t think about me that way in the least. She definitely would’ve done something about it by now.

  Shaking my head even as I scooted in closer behind her just to get close enough to smell her hair, I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. Yeah, Bailey Prescott wasn’t really the type to stand around, waiting for the guy to come to her. Hell, she probably just grabbed his face and yanked him down to her if she ever wanted a kiss.

  I grinned over the image until it struck me she’d never do that to me, because obviously, she didn’t feel that way about me, so it would behoove me to behave honorably around her. This was the girl I owed my life to; it’d be sleazy to put the moves on her when I knew she wasn’t interested, not to mention the tiny fact it’d make things extremely weird between us and she’d probably end up kicking me out on my ass and I’d be completely homeless and destitute. Oh, and I’m sure the fact she saw me have sex with someone else minutes after meeting her didn’t help matters either.

  And even, despite all that, if she did perchance welcome an advance from me, what could I ever offer her in return? I had nothing.

  So yeah, letting her know I thought of her that way was totally off the table.

  But when she fell asleep next to me, all soft and innocent and beautiful, it was hard not to imagine a what-if. She was the most unusual girl I’d ever met. So far, I’d seen her be bold and sassy, then helpful and supportive, onto kind and caring, only to go bossy with a hint of compassionate concern. I didn’t even know someone could talk with bossy sass while they were worried about you, but she nailed it.

&nb
sp; I kind of dug that. A lot. It made her even more beautiful to me. Someone so take-charge but with a soft center, made the male in me challenged to break past her mouthy demands and find that purr inside.

  She murmured something in her sleep and rolled back around to face me. I held my breath, afraid I’d woken her, but her breathing remained deep and even, brushing across my face, so I relaxed fractionally, even as I felt like slime for groping her hair while she was unconscious.

  “Sorry,” I whispered, cringing.

  But, dammit, her face looked so soft and smooth and one curly lock from her bangs had fallen over her eye. I studied it, wondering if it was bothering her, tickling her nose or anything. I bet it was bothering her. Helping things out, I reached over and flicked the curl away from her closed eyelids, then I let the backs of my fingers linger and brush every so softly against her cheek.

  Holy shit, I’d been right. Skin as soft as satin. I wanted her to cuddle against me so I could hold her the same way I had the night before. She needed to be closer, right up against me.

  But that was wrong, and I was an ass for thinking about her this way after she she’d been nothing but hospitable and generous and wonderful to me.

  Gritting my teeth, I turned away so I could stop tempting myself. I fell asleep like a good boy, I swear. But when I woke again hours later, in the middle of the night, I’d turned her way again in my sleep and shifted closer until my hand was on her hip and her ass was snuggled into my lap.

  My erection was thick and heavy in my sweatpants, throbbing like a son of bitch, and there’s no way she would’ve missed it trying to gouge out a path between her cheeks if she’d been awake.

  Holding my breath, I eased backward away from her sweet tush before rolling around to face the other way. Then I reached down and squeezed myself, trying to turn it off.

  Didn’t work.

  It was a long, painful time later before I could get back to sleep.

  * * *

  I woke to the muffled sound of a hair dryer. It made me think I was home, and Brittany was breaking the rules again, hogging the bathroom before I had my turn. I was the older one and didn’t take as long as she did, so Mom had made a rule that I had first dibs for the bathroom every morning. Britt wasn’t even allowed go in until I was finished.

  Groaning, I rolled onto my stomach and prepared to push up onto my elbows so I could yell at Mom and tattle on my sister, when I realized I wasn’t home.

  I could never go home again.

  Instead, I gazed around Bailey’s room, feeling empty.

  The hair dryer in the bathroom shut off. I rested my head back on the pillow and listened to her complete the last of her primping. She was getting ready for work, I knew. It felt strange not to be up and about preparing for my own job at the barn. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept in and lazed the morning away in bed.

  Instead of being grateful, I wished I had something to do, somewhere to be. But there was nothing.

  Bailey opened the door, and I was struck with a fresh wave of wants. Taking back my earlier wish to get up and head off, I suddenly decided, no, I wouldn’t mind staying right where I was if she joined me. She could stroll that petite body of hers over here, crawl on top of me and—Eh, no. I’m not sure if I could ever handle the girl being on top again. Not after Melody.

  So, I’d just roll Bailey over onto her back and sink into her softness, pressing my mouth to hers and burying my fingers in all that curly blonde—

  “Morning,” she said, barely paying me any attention as she swept briskly toward a purse on a chair in the corner and started to gather her things. “I need to be at work in half an hour, so I’m going to head out in a few minutes.” She paused and sent me an uncertain glance. “Do you plan on staying here?”

  “I…” I had no idea. I didn’t want to think about the rest of the day, but I did know I didn’t want to be out in public. “Would that be okay?” I hedged.

  Her shoulder relaxed as if my response relieved her, and she nodded. “Yes. Just…” Then she winced and glanced toward the closed door of the bedroom before she moved closer to me and lowered her voice. “There’s just one thing.”

  When she cringed, I shook my head. “What’s that?”

  “My, uh, my roommates have no idea you’ve stayed here these past two nights, so—”

  I sat up and threw the covers off me, hissing, “Bailey, what the hell?” How could they not know at all? “Is there a possibility they wouldn’t be okay with this?” I demanded.

  When she bit her lip, I closed my eyes and groaned. Yep, I was going to get kicked out of here any minute.

  “I don’t think so,” she rushed to reassure me, only to make a face and add, “But I don’t know for sure. They know you’re not a rapist. I mean, I assured them of that, so you don’t have to worry about that, but…”

  “But they don’t know me,” I said the obvious for her. And I didn’t blame them. I wouldn’t be comfortable with some stranger hanging out in my apartment all day with no one home to supervise him, reason number one why I’d always locked my fraternity-room door.

  “Maybe if you just stay in here until I get back,” she started.

  But I was already shaking my head no. “Bailey, this isn’t like sneaking a puppy into your room. You shouldn’t keep something like this from your roommates.”

  “I know,” she whined, scowling at me. “But now isn’t the time, what if they say no? Where would you go?”

  I opened my mouth to answer until I realized I didn’t have an answer. Sighing, I buried my face into my hands and scrubbed them up and down, wincing when I hit a bruise. What a mess.

  “How about you just stay in here today. They all have to work too, so we’ll wait until this evening when they’re all home. Then we can broach the subject with them then? Okay?”

  I looked at her. “And if they say no tonight? Then where am I supposed to go? I can’t…” I glanced around her room, feeling hopeless. There didn’t seem to be any light at the end of the tunnel.

  Bailey set her hand on my shoulder and I felt immediately comforted. “Let’s just take baby steps and worry about today right now. We’ll deal with tomorrow when it comes.”

  I nodded, feeling defeated and said, “Okay.”

  She nodded, smiling. “Okay. I’ll be right back with some breakfast and maybe enough food to last you through the day.

  I gave a humorless laugh. “Same concept, but it still beats being in jail, I guess.”

  Her face fell. “You’re not…” Running her fingers gently over my hair, she said, “If you go out, could you at least leave me a note, letting me know?”

  “I won’t go out,” I promised her.

  Her hand made one last sweep over my head, and then she was leaving to bring me back some food. She brought me plenty. I could only shake my head and wonder how long she planned on being gone. But then she said she’d be back by four and she really was gone.

  About half an hour later, I was sure I was alone in the apartment. But I stayed in Bailey’s room and ate an orange and two granola bars before downing a bottle of water.

  She had a small television in here, so I watched a morning show, then a noon show, and finally an afternoon show, before growing drowsy and taking a small nap, but I woke up feeling worse than before. I hated doing nothing all day; it always left me drained and groggier than ever. Besides, I think it’d been just enough days after being beaten for me to reach the zenith of soreness. Every muscle throbbed.

  I crawled out of bed and shuffled toward the bathroom. But when I opened Bailey’s medicine cabinet, there wasn’t any kind of pain reliever inside. A shiver wracked my body. I pressed my hand to my forehead and wondered if I had a fever. The sore, shaky muscles and shivering felt like the stirrings of a cold.

  Rubbing my hands up and down my arms, I returned to Bailey’s room but didn’t find any kind of pill bottles on her dresser, so I crept to the bedroom door and slowly poked my head into the hall. No one seeme
d to be home yet, thought it was getting to be that time. I really felt shitty, so I took the chance and stepped from her room.

  I found another bathroom within ten seconds and then some ibuprofen fifteen seconds after that. But as I was unscrewing the lid, I saw a whole row of prescription bottles lining the top shelf. I popped two pills into my mouth, swallowing them dry, before reaching up to examine one of the bottles.

  They were written out for a Jonah Abbott and seemed to be some powerful, highly-addictive pain medicine. I pulled down a few more bottles, whistling lowly under my breath. This Jonah dude must’ve gotten hurt pretty bad to need all this shit. It’d been prescribed to him back in February.

  February. That had been back when the gunman had taken out some students on campus. I hadn’t known anyone who’d been killed or even injured in the massacre, but I wondered if this Jonah guy had been involved in all that.

  He’d barely used half the contents from each bottle, and I wondered what it’d be like if a person just took them, all of them, swallowing them down two at a time. Would the pain would just disappear? Would they drift off peacefully, completely unaware of how fatally they’d just overdosed?

  For a minute, I stared at the bottles, imagining it. It could all be over, just like that. The misery and uncertainty and loss. No one would even miss me. Hell, they’d probably be relieved I was gone so I could stop bothering them. I’m sure Bailey could do without me leeching off her. My parents would be free of me causing them any more trouble. And I could stop feeling so betrayed and abandoned and hated. I could end all this right now. Right here.

  I put my palm against the cap of one bottle as if to unscrew it.

  “Oh my God, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” a high voice shrieked.

  I jumped so hard, I dropped the bottle and guiltily darted my gaze to Bailey who was standing frozen in the bathroom door and gaping at me in pale, frozen horror.