Worth the Fight

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Worth the Fight Page 20

by Beth Maria


  The key being slid into the lock breaks the strong concentration of my surroundings. The smell of his aftershave hits my nostrils right away. I breathe in the smell, the tension I didn’t know I carried leaving my body in one breath. I feel safe – home. I wait, the door slowly opens, and the smell of pine along with his aftershave hits me square in the face. I inhale involuntarily, and not very inconspicuous I might add. I’m sure I breathed in loud enough for the people next door to hear. Phoenix doesn’t comment, pretending like he didn’t hear me.

  I step into his apartment, my shoes clunking on the wooden floor. It’s quite a contrast going from the quietness of the carpet to the hard and loud wooden floor. At least there is some background noise now. I close the door quietly behind me. I don’t move though. I stand by the door, staring at Phoenix’s back as he walks into the kitchen. I take a moment to check out my surroundings, having never stepped foot in here before. I don’t like to go anywhere blind, especially when I’m a danger to myself being alone with Phoenix.

  His apartment is mostly an open floor plan; the kitchen and living room are one, kind of separated by a partition, a cream colored wall. The walls are pretty bland, with only one picture on one of the walls. The only other decoration on them is a mirror directly above the television on its stand. I can’t get over how bare this place is. It’s no better than mine, but I don’t have the money to decorate it how I want it. Phoenix on the other hand? He’s lived here for I don’t know how long, and he’s not exactly poor. His apartment isn’t exactly for a financially deprived person.

  “Would you like a drink?” he asks, standing with the fridge door open.

  “Just water, please.”

  I watch as he sets to getting our drinks, pouring himself something a little stronger. I could do with something stronger as liquid courage. Shame I don’t like whiskey.

  “Here.” He passes me the glass of water. I take a sip, savoring the coldness as it slides down my throat and wets my whistle. “Let’s sit down.” I follow him over to the black leather sofa and sit down awkwardly.

  Why am I so nervous?

  “So.” He laughs uncomfortably.

  “So,” I reply, also uncomfortable.

  “Look, Em, I don’t want you to be awkward around me when it’s just us alone. I’m still Phoenix, the same guy you’ve known for most of your life. I’m just grown up and a little rough around the edges. I’ve done bad things, though I would never hurt you intentionally.” I give him a look. “Well, not anymore. I don’t want you to feel awkward around me. I want you to feel at home, like you can talk to me about anything. Can you do that?”

  It’s like his little speech has lifted the huge, heavy weight that was sitting atop my shoulder, finally allowing me to breathe for the first time since I walked in through that door. My body relaxes into the leather, molding into it. I want to feel at home with him too, not to afraid to speak a word.

  “Yes.” I don’t hesitate. “I don’t even know why I’m so nervous. Like you said, it’s you. You’re not a stranger. I do want to get to know you better. We have a lot of years to catch up on. We’re not going to like the same things that we did four years ago.”

  He also relaxed back into the sofa while I was talking, resting his bare feet up on his coffee table. When did he take his shoes off?

  “How do you presume that we do that then?”

  “I think we should do a Q&A.”

  He laughs. “Seriously?”

  “Yes. What better a way to get to know each other again, than to ask questions?”

  “Sure, I’m game,” he replies, his laughter dying down.

  I move so that I’m sitting cross-legged on the sofa, facing him. “Great. I’m going first. What’s your favorite color?”

  Phoenix rolls his eyes. I know I could have come up with a better question; it’s detrimental to know this for future reference however.

  “Brown.” He doesn’t hesitate.

  “Brown?” Could he have chosen a more disgusting color?

  “Yes, brown,” he reiterates.

  “Why?” I have to ask. “Couldn’t you have chosen a more beautiful color, like aqua, or hell, even red would have been nicer than brown.” I can’t even say the word without sounding disgusted.

  “No. Those colors are nice, but they aren’t as nice as brown. They don’t remind me of your beautiful eyes. Your eyes, they hypnotize me, suck me into your spell. I dream about your eyes, about waking up to them and them being the last thing I look into at night before I fall asleep. That’s why brown is my favorite color.”

  Crap. If that wasn’t one of the most romantic things I’d ever heard.

  My voice is shaky when I reply, “Your turn.” I hadn’t meant for this innocent game to turn into something that could potentially lead to us having sex. It was meant so that I could learn about him all over again.

  “What’s your favorite color?” He asks, taking a sip of his whiskey.

  “Icy blue.” I don’t hesitate either, until Phoenix raises his eyebrow in question. I’m not telling him the exact same thing that he told me. Yes, I’m a coward. Some things are best kept a secret.

  “What’s your favorite movie?” I ask, quickly changing the subject.

  Again, he doesn’t hesitate. Does he know every answer on the top of his head?

  “The Rocky movies.” I wonder if he got any of his moves off of them? I shake my head to clear my thoughts. I don’t want to think about Phoenix fighting right now.

  “I’ve never seen them,” I tell him.

  He gasps. “Are you kidding me right now?”

  I shrug my shoulders. “Nope. I can honestly say that I’ve never seen them.”

  “We need to rectify that right now. I can’t allow you to carry on going about your day, having never watched Rocky. I have the whole box set, so you’re in luck.” He winks, getting up from the sofa and heading over to a cabinet next to the television.

  “Oh, no, Phoenix…” I start but stop when he waves me off with his hand.

  “Please. I think you’d love these movies. I don’t know one single person who could hate them. I’ve watched them so many times that I could probably recite most of it.” He chuckles. How can I say no when he’s so excited to watch them with me? To show me his favorite movies?

  “I’d love to.” I give in.

  I watch quietly, sipping my water, while he puts the DVD into the player and turns on the television before coming back to sit next to me. He grabs my feet from under me and puts them on his lap. He starts to slowly massage them. It feels so good, his fingers digging into the soles of my feet, that I moan. Phoenix’s head snaps toward me. I pull a pillow out from behind me, hiding my burning face behind it.

  Why did I have to moan?

  I don’t remove the pillow from in front of my face until I hear the familiar theme tune for Rocky start. You don’t even have to have watched this before to know what the theme tune is. It’s that popular and I’m no exception. I can’t help but hum along to it in my head. I slowly move the pillow, dropping it down into my lap. Phoenix isn’t staring my way; his eyes are glued to the television, his leg tapping along to the tune. It’s adorable to see this side of him. I’d forgotten how engrossed he gets when he loves something.

  We don’t talk whilst the movie plays, both of us content just sitting here with Phoenix still slowly massaging my feet. He was right- I’m loving the film so far, and by the time it’s finished, even though it’s late and I should be heading home, I ask him to put on the second one, needing to know what happens next. Phoenix was right. He has been reciting most of the words under his breath. It’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever witnessed.

  I don’t remember falling asleep. I must have though. I’m woken up to find Phoenix carrying me into a room and placing me down on a huge bed. He helps me get under the covers in my sleep induced state, then kisses my head. I don’t remember him leaving. I fall straight back to sleep, the skin on my forehead tingling from where his soft
lips touched. I have one of the best night’s sleep that I’ve had in a while, dreaming of Phoenix - that he’s lying in bed with me, cuddling me and looking after me.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Phoenix

  I didn’t get much sleep that night.

  While Emilia lay asleep on my sofa, her feet resting in my lap, I carried on watching Rocky. I couldn’t pay attention to it properly though. I kept casting little glances at her, my heart warming. I never thought I’d get to be this close to her again, be like this with her again. Somebody up there must be feeling sorry for me right now to give me another chance with Emilia after how badly I fucked things up last time.

  I won’t make that mistake again. I’m sure if I keep telling myself that¸ then maybe I might start to believe it.

  The movie went off about half an hour later, and even when the credits finished and the screen went blank, I turned off the television but made no attempt to move. Call me a stalker if you wish; I just couldn’t get enough of watching my sleeping beauty. I was ingraining this moment into my memory in case this was the last time I got to witness it. In the world that I live in, there is no promise of tomorrow, and now that Emilia is back in my life, that worries me. Knowing that the man who is the main reason for both of our misery is the one with both of our lives in his hands is soul destroying. I’m so close to finding a way to leave his clutches once and for all, and to help Emilia be free of him, to allow everybody to be free of him. I just need a little more time, and nobody can find out about this – especially Nico; otherwise, I might as well just call it quits.

  Emilia keeps making these cute little noises in her sleep, kind of like snoring but not as annoying. As I said, it’s cute. I could sit here and listen to it all night long. Emilia needs to sleep somewhere comfy though.

  I carefully get up, moving her legs off of my lap before laying them back down gently on the sofa. Picking up my empty glass, along with her half full one, I quietly put them into the sink. Then I make my way back over to her sleeping form. How am I going to do this without waking her up?

  I’m just going to have to go for it but be extra careful.

  Slowly putting one of my hands under her jean clad legs, the other one goes under her neck.

  One, two, three… I lift her up straight into my chest. Emilia stirs, sweet little moans of protest leaving her mouth. Her eyes flutter open for a few seconds before closing again. It’s too late. I saw her beautiful brown orbs. I wasn’t lying earlier when I said that they can hypnotize me. They are the most powerful thing.

  I enter my bedroom and place her onto my bed, before turning on my lamp on the bedside table.

  Perfection – That is what she looks like lying on my bed fast asleep. My heart is beating a mile a minute. I’m worried that it’s going to wake her up if it gets any louder. That’s what she does to me though. She makes my heart beat at such incredible speeds I didn’t think were possible.

  Her eyelids flutter open again, allowing me a tiny glimpse at her brown orbs once again. A faint smile graces her flawless face, her face that I see nearly every night in my dreams. Then she’s falling back to sleep.

  Bending down, I plant a soft kiss on her forehead. Then I leave her to sleep, her breathing evening out as I close the door behind me. I already know that I’m not going to get any sleep tonight, not when I know that she’s only in the room next door. There isn’t a chance in hell that I’m sleeping in the same bed as her – not because I don’t want to, because oh fuck, I really fucking want to. I just know that I wouldn’t be able to restrain myself if I got turned on from her hot little body up against mine. We’ve not been together long, and even though we’ve already had hot passionate sex, I’m not going to pressure her into it again so soon. I need her to know that I’m with her for more than her body. I’m with her for her, blue balls be damned!

  I head into my office at the back of the apartment, the furthest that I can be from my bedroom and Emilia, and get to work. I want to get my life back once and for all, and now is as good a time as any.

  I don’t just have myself to think about anymore. I have the love of my life, who has suffered enough at the hands of her asshole father, and it’s my job to sort it out.

  Nico De Carlo has messed with the wrong man.

  Chapter Twenty

  It’s been two weeks since I woke up in Phoenix’s bed alone. Two weeks since I found him asleep at what I’ve now found out is his office. And three weeks since he asked us to officially become a couple.

  We’ve spent quite a lot of time together when we’re both not working, and we spend most evenings on the phone or texting when we aren’t together. All signs of awkwardness between us are gone. We’re back to being open with each other, telling each other everything even if it will upset the other, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  “What’s with the dreamy look on your face, hooker?” Zoe asks, coming out of the staff room carrying a few boxes.

  I rush over to help her. “What are you doing, carrying all these boxes? You’re tiny. You’ll end up falling over and breaking a bone, or smashing your face on something,” I scold.

  “I can handle it. I’m tougher than I look.” Zoe places the boxes down before I have a chance to take them off of her. She turns to me, her hands on her hips and her eyebrow raised.

  What have I done this time?

  “I noticed that you dodged my question. You thinking back to some steamy sex with lover boy?” she asks, wiggling her eyebrows. It’s a good thing that I’m not drinking right now; otherwise, I would have spat it out.

  “Zoe!” I whisper shout in case any customers are hiding behind the shelves.

  “Oh, hold your panties. Nobody’s here. It’s just us. Now spill. I want all the juicy details to what is putting that dreamy look on your face. I’m not getting any right now, so I need to live precariously through you.”

  That’s the problem. I have nothing to tell her because we aren’t intimate.

  “Well. Spill it…”

  I pick up one of the boxes discarded on the floor, place it on the counter, and start unpacking it. I need something to do.

  “There isn’t anything to tell you.”

  “Bullshit. You’re telling me that you’re finally with the great big hunk of a man and you haven’t bumped uglies yet?” she asks incredulously.

  “I’m being serious, and can you keep your voice down please.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” She waves me off nonchalantly.

  “And to answer your question, I’m telling you the truth. There is nothing to tell you because we haven’t had sex since my birthday.” It’s not from lack of trying on my part. No matter how hard I try, he isn’t having any of it. He will get up to distract himself, or he’ll change the subject. I’m starting to think there is something wrong with me…

  “What? Why the hell not?” Her voice has gone back to that screechy, high-pitched noise.

  “Shh!” I scold again. “Jesus, I feel like your mother right now, telling you repeatedly to use your indoor voice.”

  “Oh, please, honey. If you were my mother, I wouldn’t be asking you about your sex life, that’s for sure.” I roll my eyes.

  “I didn’t mean… Do you know what, forget it.”

  “Oh no, no you don’t, missy. I want to know why you two love birds haven’t done the sex yet.”

  Done the sex yet? Who says that?

  The door to the store opening draws my attention and in walks…

  Harry.

  I haven’t seen him in a few days. I’ve actually started to miss our laughs in the morning.

  “Hey. I bought you this, sugar.” He holds up a takeaway cup in the air for me to see.

  “You, my friend, are a life saver!” I don’t miss the way his perfect smile slips for a brief moment when I call him ‘friend’ before it’s perfected again.

  That first sip tastes like heaven. He chose pumpkin spice – my new favorite.

  “You didn’t come in this morning?” It�
��s a silent question.

  “And you haven’t been working recently.”

  Zoe coughs next to me, drawing attention to her presence. I secretly laugh behind my takeout cup. Zoe hates to be forgotten, and Harry did just that.

  “Oh, hey Zoe,” Harry greets, not in the least bit bothered that he completely ignored her when he came in. She must understand. She huffs before leaving to go back into the staff room.

  Trying to stifle my giggle, I say, “Thank you for bringing this to me. I was running late so didn’t have time to get my daily caffeinated drink.” I hold up my cup.

  “I thought as much. Good thing you have me to look after you, eh?”

  This is going into dangerous territory, I can feel it.

  “So, did you want …”

  My cell phone vibrates in my pocket. Reaching to pull it out, I check the screen, seeing Phoenix’s name flashing at me. A text message.

  What are you doing, my sweet Emilia?

  I love it when he calls me his sweet Emilia. It’s no longer a term used to belittle me. No, he uses it as an endearment now, telling me that I’m his sweet Emilia, nobody else’s.

  Shit, Harry was talking to me.

  “Oh shit, I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t sweat it. I was going to go anyway. See you tomorrow?”

  “Sure. Have my pumpkin spice ready.” I wink. I don’t wait to see if he’s left before I look back down at my screen and start to type a message.

  Not much. Just sipping on my pumpkin spice latte. You?

  The door to the shop slams shut behind Harry’s retreating form. I’m the worst friend, aren’t I? I’m doing exactly what I didn’t want to happen; I’m pushing Harry away without even meaning too.

 

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