In Over Our Heads

by CJane Elliott

  “Don’t rely on Walter to figure it out. He’s so emotionally stunted, he almost didn’t get with you, even though it’s clear you’re the love of his life.”

  “Am I?” I leaned forward in my pathetic eagerness for reassurance.

  He rolled his eyes. “Obviously. And if you guys don’t get it together, I’m gonna be pissed. And you know why.” His gaze burned into me with a seriously sexy intent. Lordy! The child was lethal when he got going.

  “Um, yes. Okay.” He’d flustered me, so I wasn’t sure what I was agreeing to. “I mean, um, I know Walter and me need to talk about the future. Like if we’re going to have one, and whatnot.”

  “Exactly.” He pushed back from the table after hitting me with one last smoldering stare. “Don’t blow it. I’m going to get us some coffee.”

  I watched his lithe figure as he sauntered away. “Damn.”

  Chapter SIXTEEN

  WALTER WAS ready to be discharged the following afternoon. I’d spent an uncomfortable night on a recliner next to his hospital bed while Miles had gone home and then come back. The hurricane had subsided, thank the Lord, and Sophia and Patricia came bearing bagels and coffee and regaled us with stories from their hurricane party at the bar. Walter was awake, finally, but didn’t have much to say. I figured that was Walter being Walter.

  Once Walter was cleared to go, Miles and I drove him back to the apartment. Their building was more sheltered than either the bar or the houseboat, and it hadn’t sustained any damage. Walter was able to walk from the elevator all the way into his bedroom with us propping him up on either side, but as soon as he was on the bed, he fell asleep again.

  Miles and I played more gin rummy and watched old movies on Walter’s TV. Walter dozed most of the day. During his brief periods of consciousness, he asked about the shop, the boats, the bar, and all the rest, and Miles and I made up happy stuff so he’d keep calm. We had no idea yet if any of them had survived unscathed, since Sophia and Patricia hadn’t offered any details. But we weren’t going to worry Walter about that.

  In the early evening, cell service finally resumed. As I sat in Walter’s comfy armchair next to his bed, I had conversations with Sophia, who was with Patricia at her apartment, and my mother, who wept with happiness that her little boy was safe. Three guesses as to who I got my overemotionality from.

  I sat in a daze watching Walter sleep and replaying every moment of our sex-filled night before the hurricane. The low-level unease I’d been feeling at Walter’s reserve gave way to a gooey, warm feeling. Remembering how he’d told me I was amazing and the only one for him. Shivering at the memory of his tongue tracing over every inch of my body. Walter and I were meant to be together, and Miles was right—all we had to do was figure out how.

  Then Jonny called, and our conversation went as follows:

  “Hello, cuz.”

  “Tony, thank God! We’ve been trying to reach you for so long!”

  “I’m so in love.”

  “Wha—? Um, good? But are you guys okay? Marco’s still trying to reach Sophia, and—”

  “Jonny, it’s just like you said. It was destiny. I freaking believe in fairy tales at last!”

  “Uh-huh. Well, great. Everything’s okay, then?”

  Happy sigh. “Yeah. Miles and me got Walter back from the hospital this afternoon, and he’s going to be okay.”

  “Hospital?” Some noise in the background. “Relax, Marco, he says everyone’s fine. It was Walter. Tony, hold on, Marco wants to talk.”

  “Antonio, what the hell happened? You all are really okay? Do you need anything? We can try to get a flight to Miami and—”

  “Hey, Marco. Don’t worry about us. Walter got his poor little head bunged up, but I came to the rescue! You would have been so proud.”

  “Um, that’s great. Glad to hear everyone’s all right. Do you want us to come back?”

  “Nah. You lovebirds stay there. We’ll be okay. Walter’s a survivor. And so am I!” Once I started singing “I Will Survive,” Marco gave up and handed the phone back to Jonny.

  “Well, I guess you’re doing fine, then. See you in Boston.”

  I broke off my singing to say, “Boston? Drat you for bringing that up, Jonny! But I’m gonna do my best to talk Walter into going with me.” I turned my eyes to my slumbering prince, but he was awake. “Oh! Walter’s awake! Talk to you later.”

  Throwing the phone down, I leaned over. “Hi there, sweetie. How’re you feeling?”

  “Okay.” His voice was even more gravelly than usual.

  “Are you thirsty? Hungry? Do you need to pee? Does anything hurt?”

  Poor Walter appeared confused by the barrage of questions. I needed to learn to calm down. As if!

  “I’m good.” He swallowed, then cleared his throat. “You don’t need to stay, if you don’t want to.”

  I stared at him. “Of course I want to!”

  “I don’t want to ruin the rest of your vacation. I’m sure you have better things to do than look after me.”

  “Are you kidding? Don’t be silly! I….” My words died at his grim expression. “Walter?”

  “I think I can handle things now. I’d feel bad if you were stuck inside with me for your last few days.”

  What the hell? After everything we’d just been through, he was sending me away? His face was weary and stoic, and he wasn’t exactly meeting my eyes. I was finding it hard to breathe but gasped in enough breath to stutter, “W-what? But of course I want to be here!”

  “Sophia probably misses you.” He shifted and winced, which sent me into nurse mode despite my increasing panic.

  “Something hurt, love? You need some pain meds?” Without waiting for an answer, I called, “Miles! Bring the pain meds, please!”

  “Miles is here?”

  “Of course. Don’t you remember?”

  I relaxed a little. Walter was still foggy from his accident. That was probably why he was acting so strange, one part of me reasoned. The other part was in full-on high alert mode. Do something! You’re losing him! The bitch of it was, I didn’t know how to do or be any different than I was. And if that wasn’t enough, then… I hugged my arms around my belly, trying not to throw up, trying not to take this as Walter Rejects Anthony 2.0.

  Miles walked in with the medicine and a glass of water. “Hey, big brother. Got the good stuff right here.”

  “Okay.” Walter struggled to sit up, and I moved to his side. But when I took his arm to help, he shrugged me off.

  I could take a hint. Walter didn’t want me around, for whatever reason. Fighting the urge to cry, I backed down and backed away, telling myself fiercely to stop being a baby and stop making everything about me. The man had just had a serious head injury, and the least I could do was give him some space. I watched him swallow the medicine, then said, “Are you going to be okay if I go back to the condo, check in on Sophia?” Even though she’s at Patricia’s.

  “Yes. Thanks.”

  Miles frowned. “You’re not staying?”

  I tried to act carefree and unconcerned. “It’s fine. Walter’s tired. I’ll come back tomorrow.”

  “No need.” Walter closed his eyes.

  Anger began to seep into my anxiety. “You do know we’re leaving in three days, right?”

  No answer.

  I straightened my backbone and prepared to make my retreat, every inch the self-sacrificing heroine, like Bette Davis in that movie Miles and I had just watched. She goes blind but hides it for her man’s sake. I needed to channel my inner Bette and give it all up for my man. Pasting on a brave smile even though he couldn’t see it, I breathed, “Okay, Walter. I’ll let you rest for now. We’ll talk later.” I walked to the door, head held high. Bette would have been proud.

  Miles stared from him to me like we both were crazy, then sighed.

  WALTER OPENED his eyes in time to see Anthony’s back as he walked out. Miles followed Anthony, after shooting Walter an exasperated look. When the bedroom door shut behi
nd them, Walter sagged against the pillows. Good.

  Best to send Anthony away. Walter needed time to think, and he couldn’t think around Anthony. All he could do was feel, in big waves of foolish feelings that made him want to promise his heart and his life and the whole wide world on a platter. Which was completely ridiculous. And yet….

  Images of making love to Anthony flashed through. It had been incredible. He’d meant what he told Anthony that night—Anthony was amazing. And had always been the only one for Walter. Was he going to give up on this second chance so easily? Why not try to make it work? Somehow? Think!

  Walter relied on his intellect. He always had, ever since he’d learned that emotions were dangerous and irrational. He strived above all things to be logical. But Anthony Vallen, shimmering with fun and liveliness, was like a gale-force wind sweeping away logic and reason and the ability to think clearly. And Walter had allowed himself to be swept away.

  Letting go of control led to bad things, though. An image of guiding Anthony through the hurricane made him shudder. Walter had put him in danger. What if he’d lost him? And he’d almost lost the boats too. When Walter let go, he couldn’t protect what was his, and he couldn’t protect the people who relied on him.

  He squeezed his eyes shut against the memories of Roland and then Adrian—both dead now because Walter had failed to protect them. He couldn’t risk that happening to Anthony too. He’d almost killed him before, and he’d never live with himself if… if…. No, it wasn’t something he could even contemplate.

  Walter had to shut this down before things got more out of control. He’d heard Anthony say he was in love when he was talking to Jonathan just now. It was too much, too soon. What if Walter couldn’t follow through? What if Walter didn’t have it in him to be who Anthony needed him to be? He’d failed Anthony before. He didn’t want to make promises he couldn’t keep and fail Anthony again. But how to tell him so without causing Anthony even more pain? Walter tried and failed to picture that conversation.

  Voices floated in from the living room. Then the door slammed shut. Probably just as well if Anthony did end up with Miles. Walter had heard them talk and laugh while he lay like a log, felled by his own stupidity and the subsequent pain meds. They got along, and the attraction between them was evident, much as Walter hated to admit it. Even though both Miles and Anthony had said they weren’t involved, Miles would probably be a better partner for Anthony. He wouldn’t put him in harm’s way, like Walter kept doing.

  No! Anthony is mine!

  Walter loosened his death grip on the sheet, sat up again, and popped another pain med. This situation was becoming intolerable. Thank God Anthony was going back to Boston soon. Then maybe Walter could think again. And figure out what to do.

  DESPITE MY channeling the self-sacrificing heroine while in Walter’s sightline, the bitter reaction set in as soon as I left his apartment. I was stunned and hurting from his dismissal. And here I’d thought we were back, epic lovers whom the universe had brought together for a second chance! Heroes in our own romcom! I’d saved him and everything! And what does he do? Send me away. All my cynicism about love and fairy-tale endings flooded back in, and I could feel my protective shields go up.

  Although I’d been planning to connect with Sophia, I went straight to Cap’n Otto’s, ready to party my troubles away. I proceeded to drink more than advisable and dirty dance with an obliging group of hot guys who were there to celebrate surviving the hurricane. As I writhed and rubbed, groped and was groped, I felt better. Anthony the Player was back! I knew him. He’d served me well for the last twelve years. For one thing, he didn’t ever forget to protect his heart. Keep it casual, folks. Because that deep shit was lethal.

  My playing didn’t extend to more than dancing, though, even though I had a few offers. So many good-looking men, and I had absolutely no desire for any of them. Walter Elkins had seen to that. Being with Walter, having him make wonderful love to me and tell me how amazing I was, had ruined me for the player life. Probably just as well. I was getting too old for this crap. And I wanted Walter, not some rando.

  I stumbled home to the condo around two. The next morning, far too early, the door to my room opened and Sophia came in with the usual cappuccino in hand. “At last, caro! It seems like years since we’ve been together!” She set the drink on the table and sat on the side of my bed. “But why are you here and not at Walter’s? I thought you were nursing him back to health.”

  “Ugh, my head.” I sat up and rubbed my eyes, feeling bleary. “I was planning to, but Walter didn’t seem to want me around.”

  “No!” Sophia looked aghast. “Perché?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine. He kept telling me to leave, so I finally did.” Haughty Anthony showed up, the better to shield me from pain. “I don’t stay where I’m not wanted, cara.” Raising my chin only increased my headache, though, so I lowered it and took a restorative sniff of the cappuccino.

  “But… but you two are in love!” She shook her head fiercely as I opened my mouth to protest. “No! Don’t deny it! You must go back to him. Now!”

  “Dollface, it’s not that simple.”

  “Why not? You must go and tell him you love him and make him give up his fears! That’s all it is, you know. Fear!”

  I almost rose to the possibility Sophia was presenting. Yes! Go to my man and tell him I love him! Have him see it was destiny! I understood his emotional hang-ups now, and we could overcome them!

  But then the specter of the past arose… me sobbing in my dorm room, pleading with Walter for another chance, only to have him walk out on me. No. I couldn’t go through that again. Walter knew where I stood. He’d have to come to me this time. But… oh God, what if he doesn’t? I couldn’t go there.

  I sat up and said the first lie I could think of in a bright voice. “Miles is taking him to the doctor to get the head wound checked, so I won’t be able to do anything right now. Let’s plan our last days, cara. Only three to go! We still need to visit the butterfly conservatory, and we haven’t finished our shopping spree! We need to have some fun!”

  Chapter SEVENTEEN

  THREE DAYS later I paid the cab driver and turned to confront the sight of Back Bay Dive and Sail—the first time since the hurricane. The front window had been replaced, and the shop appeared the same as always. The same? I was never going to see that damned storefront with the blue-and-white sign without seeing Walter lying on the dock, white and still.

  Fear rose in my throat at the prospect of facing him. We hadn’t been together since he’d sent me away. That in itself seemed unbelievable after the one magical night we’d shared, after everything we’d said both with our bodies and our words. Under normal circumstances, I’d have been all up in his grill, playing nursemaid and foisting my presence on him.

  This time needed to be different, though. This time he needed to come to me, because that’s the only way I could know what we had was real. I’d been waiting for him to make a move, but although we’d exchanged a few texts, he hadn’t asked to get together. I felt sick that we were back to this place where nothing was certain except for radio silence. I’d talked to Miles, who’d reported that he couldn’t get anything out of Walter and had no idea what was bothering him. Miles was ready to kill him.

  Sophia was the one who’d gotten me back to hope. We’d had many conversations as we’d shopped and toured, and I’d realized I wasn’t ready to give up so easily. The amazing coincidence of crossing paths with him once again did seem miraculous, and I was willing to call it what Jonathan had been calling it—destiny. Walter had told me I was the only one for him. He’d held me and made love to me like I was the most precious thing in the world. It couldn’t be over.

  Sophia had pointed out that Walter hadn’t even said it was over. I was reading too much into him suggesting I leave that night. She’d reminded me that Walter hated to be dependent on anyone and probably sent me away so he could get stronger.

  She totally sup
ported me going to Walter if he wasn’t going to come to me. “Do it, caro! Remember to go into the conversation positive. You and he are together. Don’t even open that up for debate. Talk about how you’re going to make it work.”

  I’d swatted down the doubts and started thinking about the sheer logistics of our relationship. If it was the distance between our separate lives, him here and me in Boston, we could figure it out. Maybe I could move to Florida, maybe he could move back to Massachusetts, or maybe we could compromise. Anyway, I couldn’t go back to Boston without talking to Walter. I needed his rational mind to help me tackle the logistical dilemmas. And more than that, I needed his reassurance that we were going to be together.

  Show time! I took a breath, shook my tousled curls—at least that had been the effect I was going for—smoothed down my cutest top, the one with the unicorns, and walked in.

  “Stop that!” I squawked.

  Walter was standing on a stepladder, replacing a light fixture. He started and turned his head. I was lucky he didn’t fall off.

  “Careful, you foolish boy! Are you supposed to be standing on ladders so soon?”

  Camila was at the counter, sorting through equipment. “No one can tell him anything, so don’t even try.”

  “It’s fine.” Walter finished his repair and descended as slow as a sloth. Why, it was almost as if he didn’t want to face me. “What can I do for you?” he asked stiffly when his feet finally found the floor.

  “Um, I need to talk to you.”

  “Okay.” He stared at me, waiting, like the lunkhead he sometimes was.

  “Uh, alone, doll?”

  Camila suddenly got busy behind the counter as my mortification rose.