Jagged Heart (Broken Bottles Series Book 3)

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Jagged Heart (Broken Bottles Series Book 3) Page 23

by Taeuffer, Pamela


  I forced myself to stay put.

  Was it wrong that I pressed Ryan and that I was having a hard time dealing with it?

  Why did it turn my stomach?

  Did it show how he'd dismiss me if we didn't work out and that was why I had such a knee-jerk reaction?

  How could he know how to change when he hadn't been challenged to do so? Was he afraid to admit how he'd conducted his one-night stands? Something about how he'd dismissed them really bothered me.

  Wasn’t he taking his past too casually?

  Jenise told me I’d overreacted when it came to Ryan's sex life, but this—surely even she would be surprised.

  I turned off the light and opened the bathroom door.

  Ryan sat on the edge of the bed.

  I sat next to him.

  “Why do you still have those things, Ryan?”

  "Did you look through them?" He didn't look at me, perhaps afraid of my response. "Now you want to leave me?"

  "I didn't look."

  His blue eyes focused on mine.

  "I don't want to leave you." I twisted my body to face him. "But I might have to. Help me understand."

  “Why does it matter?” Ryan asked defensively, his voice shaken. “I can't seem to anticipate the things that make you upset. I can hear your agitation and see your body language, but I don’t get it. You haven’t committed to me exclusively. I’m the only one of us who has said I love you, so why is your reaction so strong?”

  That was a comeback I wasn't expecting. I've tried to stay calm and objective but I'm already exhausting him. He's exhausting me, too. I suppose we need to let loose and see where this goes.

  “Because I—”

  “I need to hear your explanation. I don’t understand your reaction, Nicky. I'm not trying to be flippant or dismissive. I've told you I love you a dozen times or more and what have you told me? I haven't heard you say anything that lets me know I'm yours other than I'm your boyfriend, you like me a lot, have strong feelings for me. The newest one is I'm a very good friend. Yet, I'm supposed to rid my life of all evidence from my past. I feel as if I need to take a course on relationships so I don't offend you."

  "Sorry, I don't mean—"

  "I'm happy to do it. I wouldn't hesitate to do it for you. Except . . . we’re friends, right? So tell me, girlfriend. Why does my comment upset you?" He stood up. "I need to finish getting ready. I'll only be a minute. I'm not avoiding our conversation. If you want to come in the bathroom and talk . . . otherwise and we can continue this discussion when I'm done, okay?"

  I nodded.

  Tears flooded me.

  He just used sarcasm. The same sarcasm I'm so used to flinging around whenever I feel threatened. God, that hurts.

  While he was in the bathroom, I gathered my sandy sweats and T-shirt and put them on.

  I walked into the kitchen and grabbed some coffee. I sat at the kitchen island, sipping it from one of the two mugs Ryan had set out earlier.

  Was I about to lose him?

  I shouldn't have pressed him. This always happens when I speak up—everything falls apart. What was I thinking?

  Maybe he was gathering himself, ready to say goodbye. I couldn't blame him. It would be sad, but perhaps the feelings I had from LA were right. We'd tried a few times and had fallen short. Were we destined to circle in these misunderstandings?

  He walked out in a pair of sweats, his chest bare, and his feet meeting the hardwood floor in deliberate steps.

  "I poured yours," I told him. "It's right here. I thought you needed to get dressed."

  "Thanks," he kissed the side of my head. "Just my hygiene stuff. I like to get my coffee before I dress."

  I appreciated the effort. Even though we were still confused, he made sure not to turn his back on me as he had in Yountville.

  "Continue." He took a long sip from the mug. "Why do those clothes make you so upset?"

  “It’s like . . .” I tried to say it as unemotionally as I could, without my voice cracking or starting to cry. “It’s like a reminder of what I'm up against. I know you'll get tired of hearing this but my fear of abandonment . . . it's as if you’ve been toying with me. Maybe you let the women of your past believe they were something more. I mean, if they can leave something at your apartment, doesn’t that imply a return? You may not be now, but weren't you’re stringing them along? Even worse . . . " I closed my eyes, daring myself to finish my deadly thought, " . . . maybe the clothes are your trophies.”

  Chapter 34

  Skeletons—His & Mine

  “Maybe, because of the sweet words you used on all those women, they purposefully tucked something away so they’d have an excuse to come back." I sighed when Ryan's cell phone rang. "Is that why you have them?"

  "Sorry; just a second. What's up?" He listened to the caller. "Do I—" he paused again. "Okay," he sighed. "See you in an hour." He ended the call. "Coach reminding me of my training session. Please go on."

  “Do those clothes remind you of the life you say you’re giving up for me?" I rolled on. "They're like a black book full of memories? Do you keep their panties to sniff at night?”

  “Oh shit, Nick." He shook his head in protest. "No. No, of course not. I don’t even know what’s in there. They’re in a corner of my closet I don’t even use. My housekeeper, she, they—”

  “Stack up?” I pushed even more, albeit not too forcefully. After all, I didn't want to sever us and I felt he might be on that edge.

  “Jeanne, my housekeeper, she tosses them in a box or a bag.” His face was in turmoil, knotted, twisted, and fearful.

  "How often?"

  "I'm not answering that," he said firmly.

  “Okay, I get why you'd take that stand. I need you to hear me and hear me clearly. I don’t want to be reminded of all the sex you’ve had before, so . . .”

  “Why not?” Now he had changed tactics. He pushed to get me to say the words he'd been waiting to hear.

  He was on the offense.

  “Because of the feelings I have for you.” I gave in a little.

  He pushed up from the stool and lifted me from my seat. His arms surrounded me and brought me to his body.

  Don’t even start. I’m mad at you.

  “I'm not letting you off that easily,” he said boldly.

  “Yeah? Well I don’t feel like letting you off so easily, either. In fact, you—”

  “I know you’re upset." His hand fell gently on my shoulder. "I’m sorry for what I said about the clothes but I want to hear why it affects you. I need to hear you say the words. I need your reassurance, Nicky.”

  “Reassure you in what way? What words?"

  “Tell me why, really tell me, why it bothers you, down deep, to your basic and raw feelings. I’m a strong man, but my heart is vulnerable. You need to give it hope. Those clothes, I don’t look at them the way you do. They’re only clothes. I don’t identify them with the woman who once wore them. All they've done is lead me to you.

  "I’m sorry I wasn’t more sensitive to your feelings. I don't mean to hurt you or be callous to anyone. You’re the only woman I’ve ever responded to like this and waited for. When I’m with you, I’m helpless and lose control. I want so badly for you to understand how desperate I am.”

  “I thought I knew what I felt. I thought . . ." my bottom lip quivered and my voice cracked. "I thought I knew you. Now—”

  He swept me into his arms and walked back into the bedroom. He put me down on the bed and lay next to me.

  “Can’t you feel my love?” He caressed my hair.

  “I thought so, but—”

  "You really don't think I'd play games with you, do you?"

  "I'm not sure now." I planted my feet.

  “Don’t you hear how fast my heart beats when you lay your head against my chest?” He reached for me. I rested against him.

  “Yes, I do, Ryan, but—”

  “Don’t you think we deserve a chance together without all the analysis and what ifs?”
His arms rested on the small of my back. "Can you put aside your doubts? Please, just for now, can you believe I'm telling you the truth?"

  “Yes.” I began to give in. "I'll try."

  “Don’t you think we deserve to be loved by someone special?" Each of his hands framed my cheeks. “Am I special to you?”

  “Yes,” I repeated.

  “I want to be the one who brings everything good to you.” He looked over my face. “I'm trying to understand you. You have to help me and trust that I'm present with you and no one else. I'm waiting for you to shout, I love you. Your lovely woman’s body—seems like she loves me. She's made her announcement two times, in fact.”

  He gave me a shy look that was only pretend.

  “Don’t say that.” I knew I turned bright red.

  “Why not? Your responses were natural and beautiful. The way your body arched for me and your vagina grabbed my finger, it was—”

  “I couldn’t help my reaction last night.” I looked away.

  Ryan lifted me on top of him and placed one of his arms on each of my hips, positioning me so that my thighs were against his. My belly felt the soft parts of him and also the hardness of the primitive male under me.

  “Nicky, I know you’re not experienced but if you weren’t into me, your body wouldn’t have reacted the way she did, your legs wouldn’t have opened wide, and your lovely hips wouldn’t have risen up to me last night. I didn’t even have to lift you. You did that all on your own. And you didn't only move that way when you came. You want me close. It’s why you pulled me down to kiss you. You may not be my woman in every way, but I can see you, and I know you see me. You want more, just like I do, but won't say that you love me. I know you do, just say it.”

  Yes, yes, yes, I do!

  My brain went to gel, leaving me with only a blob of random and rapidly misfiring neurons.

  Come on, Nick. Regroup and get it together.

  “You say all the right things. In fact, damn, I can’t believe how you say all the right things, Ryan. The way you’re inside my head—I’m mad at you, and I want to stay mad for a while. But then you start talking and . . .”

  “Don’t be angry,” he smoothed my hair. When he kissed my lips, everything softened. The room spun like a camera on wheels circling two lovers as it filmed a scene for a movie.

  “I know this shakes you." He kissed me again. "I want to shake you hard. Whenever I've been easy on you, you've drifted.”

  He flipped positions, his body now on top of mine. He slipped off the sweats he'd put on earlier. No boxers or briefs covered his erection. I felt as if I was bending to receive it like a succulent flower reaching for the morning sun. His hips persuaded me to imitate their motion, accept his invitation to drown in the liquid of our bodies—dripping desires, moist, and exquisite. His hands gripped the waistband of my pants.

  I wanted to forget about the clothes in the closet.

  Sweep it under the carpet.

  Don't talk about it.

  That's what I'd always done.

  No! Don't give up. You promised you wouldn't give in.

  Although I wanted him badly I knew we didn’t have time for a lovely sex adventure—not the way I wanted and thought I needed it. I’d fantasized about relaxing in our afterglow and wanted to discuss the sex as I lay in his arms. Waiting an entire week to see him again after my first experience didn’t feel right or good.

  Forget all of the controls and childhood beliefs.

  My Evil Twin didn’t want to let go of me. She kept pushing and urging me to stretch myself and to step over my self-imposed boundaries.

  You’re not a child any longer.

  I’d always felt like an adult in so many ways, but this—this was something I knew I had to insist on doing my way—for now.

  “Ryan, I need to get home. I have plans today and you have your game and coaching lesson.”

  “Are. You. Sure. You. Want to. Stop?” Long, slow breaths were like pauses in each spoken word. He opened his eyes and lifted from me, creating space between us.

  Let him pleasure you! When he gets back, you'll be ready to go deeper because you'll understand what it's all about! Think of what you could offer him! Love, Intimacy, Vulnerability, Validation, Acceptance, Commitment, Reassurance! The same things you want for yourself and never get at home.

  “No, but yes,” I affirmed.

  Oh, Nick. My Evil Twin whispered her disappointment.

  He rolled off of me and lay on his side. I sat with my back to him. My hands were loose at my hips.

  “Will you come to my game today? I want to see my sweetheart before I have to leave.” He scooted close and tucked my bottom against his stomach. His thighs folded me inside them, and my hips were held snugly in the V of his body. His head now rested against my back. I felt packaged in his love. “I just can’t bear to part with you so soon. I’m already sad just thinking about being away from my woman.”

  Panic went through me like a fire alarm—blaring, warning loudly, coming closer and reaching the very inside of me. What I refused to admit was so obvious—it had been obvious from the beginning—it was why the clothes, his past, and the bold women trying to get his attention bothered me.

  I was in love with him.

  Every protection I’d built around me crashed down.

  I wanted to be with him, but I didn’t know how to say it.

  “I have other plans today.” I grasped for excuses, stalling to gather my thoughts. One of my legs was on the floor as if ready to run away and the other was on the bed wanting to stay.

  “Please cancel them.” His eyes twinkled.

  “I can’t.”

  “What are they?” He was going to make me own it.

  “I’m going out.”

  “With?”

  “A friend,” I blurted. “I haven’t spent much time with them lately and college is almost here.”

  I knew it sounded contrived.

  “Won't she understand? Unless . . . if you called Jerry and put him on speaker, would I hear the voice of a guy who’s excited about seeing you today?”

  Chapter 35

  Friends

  “Jerry and I see each other as friends. You know that, Ryan. We hang out with the same people and I’ve known him all my life. You don't want me to give up my friends, do you? That's not a working relationship.”

  “If you’re only friends, why did you lie about your plans?” He avoided my question and shot an arrow of truth right through me.

  I don’t really know. I guess . . . oh damn, I don’t know.

  “Because you keep pushing me to stop seeing him. I don’t want to talk about it anymore." I rushed my answer. "I'm still trying to figure this out, but I wouldn’t ask you to give up your friends. It’s not right you’re asking me to do it.”

  Hasn't Ryan gotten right to the heart of it? Jerry isn't only a friend.

  “What would you think if I kept seeing my women friends?”

  “Do you even have women friends? Haven’t you had sex with all of them?”

  And now you avoided his question, Nick. Seems like the two of you are very well schooled in this game of avoidance.

  I waited for him to answer. When he didn’t, I assumed it was an acknowledgment.

  “Tell me who, Ryan. Who are your women friends? Friends like Jesse? Oh, wait. Maybe it's Monica or Ms. Tabitha Sable?”

  "Monica is married and I already answered that question." His eyebrows knotted.

  “How many women friends—I mean real friends—do you have? Let’s see, I’ve heard you say Jesse’s a friend. I’ve also heard you say she’s someone you used to know and that you have no clue as to what happened to her. I’m confused since you can’t seem to get it straight. If you grew up with a woman and you wanted to keep her friendship, I’d try to understand. The thing is, I haven’t had sex with Jerry. Are there any women from your past like that?”

  But you planned to. You’re holding him to a double standard. If you expect him to stay st
rong and committed to you, you need to show him the same honesty you expect from him.

  “You don’t need to worry about Jesse.” He sat next to me. “We weren’t serious in any way, even at college. I’ve never lied to you about being with other women before you.”

  "How could you?" I asked pointedly. "Your reputation speaks for itself."

  "Please stop doing that," he requested.

  Silence.

  "Well . . . Dana said Jesse was happy with you. How did she phrase it? Oh yeah. You treated each other lovingly. You say you’re in love with me. Yet, someone at our table thought you two were in love. Jesse told Dana she'd found her prince. How do I believe, just because you’re treating me, uh . . . lovingly, that I’m any different?” I carefully formulated my thoughts. “I guess on the one hand, it’s good you treated her so well, to the point that others noticed. If you got along so great, what’s to say you’re not taking a break from each other while you figure it out?”

  “I’m not—”

  “Are you really over her? Is she really over you? If you're in love with me, why didn't Dana catch it? She certainly caught the cues between you and your ex. If you guys ended in such mutual agreement and were friends, then why don’t you know where she is or where she lives? Doesn’t sound amicable to me, Ryan.”

  “She's not my ex. She was never my girlfriend." He hesitated while assessing my body language. "She still lives here in the city.”

  “Why did you lie? You just asked me why I wasn’t truthful about Jerry and yet you did the same thing last night.”

  “I didn’t want to carry on a conversation about another woman in front of you. I was afraid of blowing it again, and it’s none of Dana’s business what I know about someone’s life.”

  “Why not? Why be so defensive? You were friends, or so you say. Dana was her friend, unless . . .” I looked at the ceiling and then back to his eyes. “Unless you were more.”

  “No, we—”

  “Sorry. Let me correct that—unless she thought you were more, and now you’re uncomfortable about it,” I interjected. “As intuitive as you are about people, you must have known Jesse felt something for you, didn’t you? The day I heard you and Kevin talking when I was behind the fence he said she loved you.”

 

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