Coping Skills (Players of Marycliff University Book 5)

by Jerica MacMillan

  She took a deep breath, her gaze dropping to her coffee cup again. The next thing she said came out much softer, barely above a whisper. “And she helped me realize how terrible I was to you.” She paused, meeting his eyes and pressing her lips together, a shine of tears gathering along her eyelids. Something clenched in Daniel’s gut, and he opened his mouth to say something, but she blinked the tears away, shaking her head. “I was really terrible to you. And I’m so, so sorry. You didn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

  He swallowed, unsure how to respond to her apology, to the earnest look in her eyes, to the fact that she was fighting back tears while telling him how sorry she was. The part of him that had fallen deeply under her spell six months ago wanted to tell her everything was okay, that he forgave her, that they could be together. But the boy inside him that was too accustomed to being a pawn his father used to get back at his mom still rebelled against the way she’d used him as well.

  “You used me.”

  She nodded. “I know.”

  “After I told you about my parents, my dad, how he used my brother and me to control our mom after their divorce. You knew all that, and you still used me.”

  A tear slipped down her cheek as she nodded, drawing in a shuddery breath. “Yes. I’m sorry. I didn’t—“ She shook her head, cutting herself off. “It doesn’t matter. I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am.”

  The old anger and bitterness rose up inside him, choking out the sympathy he’d normally feel for her distress. “You didn’t what? You didn’t think I’d care? Or you didn’t think I’d find out?”

  Her hand reached toward him like she wanted to touch him, but she stopped short, withdrawing back to her side of the table. “No, that’s not what I was going to say. I didn’t realize what I was doing at the time. I wasn’t trying to be a selfish bitch, I swear. I didn’t make the connection until you said it that night.” She stopped and swallowed hard. “Even then, I thought you were mad at me more for breaking up with you.”

  “Which was a shitty thing to do, too.” He was pissed at her for breaking up with him like that. That was another point to remember, to steel him against her tears.

  She nodded. “I know. I’m sorry for that, too. But I realized that wasn’t the only hurtful thing I’d done to you. So I was starting from the beginning. But I’m sorry for all of it. For using you, for treating you like you didn’t have feelings, for breaking up with you when you were hurt, for not being honest with you about my own feelings. All of it. I’m sorry for everything.”

  “Why did you do it?” He didn’t know why he asked that, why he kept her talking. The more she talked, the more he softened and came closer to forgiving her. He was at war with himself, trying to hang on to his anger and hurt, but also wanting to forgive her and try again.

  Would she even want to try again? Or was she just wanting to apologize so she could move on? But why would she feel it necessary to apologize if that was all she wanted? Had she cared about him after all? He’d been telling himself for the last two months that she hadn’t really cared, despite what she’d said the night of his concussion. That she’d been upset more because of her own history with TBIs than because of any deep connection they’d shared. But he could never quite believe it. The logic didn’t hold up.

  She fiddled with the sleeve on her cup again. “Well, at first, it was because you seemed safe. We already had a connection, and you were so sweet, wanting to let me talk, and you didn’t give me the same pitying looks I’d been getting from everyone else for months.” She shook her head. “You made me feel good. When I was with you, I could forget about everything else, pretend that everything hadn’t fallen apart. And I craved that feeling more than anything.” Another deep, shuddery breath. “But that wasn’t a healthy way to deal with it. I was avoiding, not dealing, pushing it away. And I used you to do it, which wasn’t fair to you, and wasn’t good for me.”

  Her hand extended again, but she clenched her fingers into a fist, leaving her hand in the middle of the table but not letting herself actually try to touch him. “But I did—I do—like you. I care about you. I want good things for you.” She took a deep breath, biting her lip before pressing on. “I really want you not to hate me. And I—“ She stopped, shaking her head again, pulling her hand back to her lap.

  “What?”

  She shook her head again. “No. It’s too much.” She took a deep breath, straightening her shoulders and looking him in the eye. “Thanks for letting me talk. I’ll leave you alone now.”

  Standing, she gathered her things, but he caught her arm again, needing to know what she’d stopped herself from saying. “No. Tell me. What were you going to say?”

  She stilled, her head down, her hand gripping the strap of her bag so tightly that her knuckles were white. “I … I’d really like to see you again. At least be friends if you don’t want to try to be more.”

  He dropped her arm, sitting back in his chair, uncertain how to respond.

  Meeting his eyes, she gave him a sad smile. “See. That’s why I stopped myself. I’m asking too much, being selfish again. You deserve better. Thanks again for having coffee with me. I’ll—“ She looked away and swallowed before looking back at him. “I hope I’ll see you around.”

  He watched her walk out of the coffee shop, her back straight, never looking back at him. He didn’t know how long he sat there, but his coffee was lukewarm when he picked it up again. Throwing it away, he stood, putting his coat back on, still feeling dazed from his conversation with Elena. She wanted to be friends with him. More, if he’d be okay with that. She’d cared about him all along, but been too wrapped up in her own pain to see how destructive her behavior had been.

  Could he forgive her for that? And could he forgive himself for allowing it?

  Coop found him sitting in their apartment in the dark. Daniel had gone home after his impromptu coffee with Elena, skipping the rest of his classes. It was only the second week of the semester, but he was so messed up in the head from her apology and the following revelations that he knew he wouldn’t be able to focus. So he’d come home and sat on the couch. He’d continued to sit there, staring into space, wrestling with what he wanted and what he thought he should do until the light faded and Coop came home.

  “Dude. What are you doing?” Coop dropped his backpack on the floor, flopping on the couch next to Daniel.

  Daniel shook his head. “Thinking.”

  “Do you need darkness for that? Or can I turn on a light?”

  Daniel grunted. “No, I don’t need darkness. It was light when I sat down. I just haven’t gotten up to turn on a light.”

  Getting back up, Coop found the switch on the wall, and Daniel held up a hand, blinking against the sudden brightness. Coop stared at him, arms crossed, a frown pulling at his mouth. “You been sitting here all afternoon in your coat? What the fuck, man?”

  Daniel ran a hand over his face. “I talked to Elena.”

  One of Coop’s eyebrows quirked up. “And? How’d that go?”

  “Fuck, man.” Daniel shook his head and rubbed his face again. “She apologized. For everything.”

  He glanced up to see Coop nodding like he wasn’t surprised. “Yeah. She wanted to do that back before Thanksgiving. But you wouldn’t talk to her. I’m a little surprised you actually talked to her today. Did you make her stand there in the cold on the sidewalk before you stormed off to come sit in the dark?”

  Daniel’s mouth twisted, half smile and half frown at his friend’s assessment of his likely reaction. “Fuck you, man. No, for your information, we had coffee together. I let her talk and say all that she had to say.” He dropped his head back on the couch. “She’s been going to therapy. Said it’s helping.”

  “Good. That’s good.”

  This time Daniel smiled, just a quick flex of his lips. “That’s what I said.”

  “Did she say anything else?”

  “She said she wants to be friends. More, if I’m willing to go th
ere again.”

  Coop waited, but when Daniel didn’t say anything else, he hit Daniel’s foot where it was crossed over his knee. “And? What did you tell her?”

  Raising his head, Daniel looked at Coop. “I didn’t really say anything. And then she said goodbye and left.”

  “Dude. You’re an asshole.”

  “Fuck you, Coop.” Daniel tried to sound angry, but it came out more tired. He rested his head against the back of the couch again, staring at the ceiling. He was an asshole.

  Coop knocked his foot off his knee. “No. Fuck you. You’ve been in love with that girl for months, and now she’s finally in a place to give you what you’ve been wanting, and you let her walk away? You’re an asshole. If you’re too chickenshit to try again with her, then at least have the balls to tell her no when she lays it all out like that. Don’t just stare at her until she draws her own conclusions and leaves. That’s a dick move, dude. I thought you were better than that.”

  “I guess you thought wrong.”

  With a disgusted noise, Coop went into his bedroom. The walls were thin, and Daniel could hear him moving around and muttering to himself, but couldn’t make out any words.

  Just as well. He didn’t want more of Coop’s opinion right now.

  He pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he found Elena’s name. He’d never deleted her number, even though he’d tried. If he could never bring himself to completely cut her out of his life, wasn’t that a sign that maybe he should give her another chance?

  His thumb hovered over the screen, and he looked at the picture he’d saved with her contact info. He’d taken it on the beach in Westport, her hair blowing in the wind, her head thrown back as she laughed at something he’d said. God, he missed her. It was an ache deep in his chest that he carried with him all the time, and it hit him like a punch in the gut when he let himself look at the few pictures he had of her or when he relived their time together.

  And now he could get rid of that ache. Coop was right. He was being a chickenshit asshole.

  Pocketing his phone, he stood and grabbed his keys. “I gotta go, Coop. Don’t know when I’ll be back. Later.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “What are you doing here, Carter?”

  Elena’s head popped up, her wide eyes meeting Hannah’s at the sound of Matt’s gruff voice coming from the living room. They sat at the kitchen table, open pints of ice cream in front of them as Elena filled Hannah in on her impromptu coffee with Daniel earlier in the day.

  “Daniel Carter?” Hannah whispered.

  Elena shook her head, listening. She heard a low voice respond to Matt that sounded like Daniel. Then Matt hissed something that sounded like, “Haven’t you done enough?”

  At that she was on her feet, Hannah right behind her, heading into the living room. Daniel was here?

  Matt stood in the doorway, one arm on the doorframe, blocking Daniel’s way in. “Dude. She’s finally getting back to herself again. You really wanna fuck that all up for her?”

  “Let me in, man. I need to talk to her. She’ll want to talk to me. I saw her earlier today.”

  Matt let out a menacing growl. “I know. She was in tears when she got home. Again. I’m guessing you’re the reason why.”

  “Matt, stop.”

  Both guys turned at the sound of Elena’s voice cutting through their argument. She met Matt’s hard blue eyes, letting him see that she was serious. “It’s okay. I’ll talk to him.”

  He examined her face a moment longer before letting his arm drop, shaking his head as he stepped out of Daniel’s way. “If you’re sure.”

  “I’m sure.” Her eyes met Daniel’s. He stepped into the living room and closed the door behind him, his throat working as he swallowed, his eyes never leaving hers.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey.”

  Hannah stepped up and slipped her arm through Matt’s, drawing Elena’s attention. “Let’s give them some privacy.”

  Matt, still frowning, allowed Hannah to pull him back toward the kitchen. He stopped before leaving the room, focusing on Elena. “Let me know if you want me to throw him out. I don’t mind at all.”

  With a small smile, Elena nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  He gave Daniel one more glare before letting Hannah tug him the rest of the way out of the room. Hannah cast one last glance at Elena, rolling her eyes and giving a little shrug as though to say, What can you do? Even though Matt was being a little over the top and she didn’t need it, she appreciated his protectiveness.

  Once they were out of the room, she let her full attention return to Daniel, taking him in. He looked … tired. Worn out in a way he hadn’t been earlier this afternoon. She didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

  Stepping around to the couch, she gestured for him to sit too. And she waited. He took off his jacket, scrunching the fabric in his hands, his veins standing out in relief against his skin. He didn’t look at her, his gaze focused on his hands gripping his jacket, his posture rigid as he sat with his elbows propped on his knees.

  Finally, unable to bear the strained silence any longer, Elena spoke. “Daniel? Why did you come?”

  His head whipped around, his eyes boring into hers. He pressed his lips together. “Should I not have come?”

  “That’s not what I said.” She took a deep breath. “I’m just wondering. Because you seemed adamant that you see me. And now,” she lifted a hand toward him, indicating his stiff silence. “Now, you won’t speak or look at me.”

  He blew out a long breath, like a balloon deflating, his posture relaxing as he did so. He ran a hand over the scruff on his jaw. “I don’t really know how to start.” He looked away before meeting her eyes again. “I usually like to plan in advance. I like things to be laid out, predictable. Logical. Either true or false. In math, there are right answers or wrong answers, and it’s not up for debate. Here? This? I don’t know what’s going to happen, and I don’t know what the right answer is.”

  Scooting forward a little, Elena’s breath quickened at what she thought he was implying. “And what’s the question?”

  He stopped glancing around and focused on her. “Should we try again?”

  Her heart thumped in her chest, and she forced herself to breathe. “And what do you want the answer to be?”

  His eyes held hers, and he didn’t answer right away. She might die from lack of oxygen if he didn’t answer soon. When his mouth opened, his voice came out as a hoarse whisper. “Yes.”

  “Yes?” Her chest heaved as she tried to breathe again. “Really?”

  “Really.” One corner of his mouth turned up in a sexy half smile. She’d missed that half smile. And his full smile, too. It had been too long since she’d seen either one.

  He reached for her, pulling her in and brushing a kiss over her lips. “I’ve missed you so fucking much.”

  “I’ve missed you too.” She cupped his face in her hands, bringing his mouth to hers once more.

  He kissed her, but not for as long as she wanted before he pulled away. “Wait. I need—“ He closed his eyes, his jaw flexing. When he opened his eyes again, he rested his forehead against hers. “If we’re going to do this again, we need to do it right. That means dating first, learning how to be in a relationship together before we take the next step.”

  She pulled back, her eyes going back and forth between his. He looked so sincere and tortured, and she could see this was important to him. “Okay. We’ll date. And I’ll wait for you to decide when you want to go further.”

  He groaned, kissing her again, this time more than the chaste brush of his lips against hers. His tongue licked at her lips, and she opened for him, sliding her tongue against his. His arms locked around her, one hand holding her head in place, the way she loved him to do.

  When he broke away, they were both breathless, and she was straddling him, his cock hard between her thighs. He let out another groan, his head falling back on th
e couch, peeking at her out of one half-closed eye. “You’re going to make it really hard for me to stick to that plan, aren’t you?”

  She snort-laughed. “You said hard.”

  He let out a groan again, this time in dismay at her juvenile joke, but it broke the mood, which was what she’d been going for. She climbed off his lap, standing in front of him. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist. But yeah, I don’t think this’ll be easy. Maybe we should plan on only being together in public for a while.”

  The wide smile that took over his face, his teeth standing out in contrast with his gorgeous, dark brown skin, eased some of her own frustration. “I’m going to enjoy taking you out. Especially since you never let me do that before.”

  Her answering smile turned sad at his words. “I’m really sorry about that. I—“

  He stood, his hands going to her face, forcing her eyes to meet his. “Hey. No. Enough apologies. I forgive you. You need to forgive yourself. We’re going to do this right this time.”

  She nodded as much as she could with his hands cupping her cheeks. “Okay,” she whispered.

  A wicked smile came over his face, his voice dropping lower. “And just think, after all the foreplay we’ll be doing, it’ll be explosive when I’m finally inside you again.”

  She sucked in a sharp breath. “If you want that to be at some point in the future, we really need to stop talking about this and either invite Hannah and Matt back in here—who, by the way, have been listening in on all of this from the kitchen—or go out to eat. Something. But you can’t keep saying things like that and looking at me like that if you don’t want me to stick my hand down your pants.”