by Reese Ryan
Miles shifted in bed, a silent breath escaping his lips. Being with Jamie was thrilling yet exhausting. But not being with her wasn’t an option he wanted to consider. Gaining her trust was a war he waged one battle at a time. Maybe this was a battle he needed to forgo, if he was to win the war for her heart. After all, she gripped his as tightly as the fists clenched at her side.
Miles placed his hand on her cheek, pulling her into him. She bit her lip and flashed that deliciously wicked grin that turned his insides into goo. He was practically salivating already.
She kissed him hard, her tongue finding his. Her fingers gripping his hair. Pulse racing, his hands roamed down her back, exploring her sumptuous curves. He pulled her on top of him, delighting in the caress of her skin. His hunger for her seemed insatiable.
“You drive me fucking insane, you know that?” Miles whispered against her mouth.
He tugged the T-shirt over her head and tossed it onto the floor, then shifted his weight onto her. Kissing his way along the soft flesh of her shoulders, he sank his teeth in gently, needing to taste her.
“You have to go to work in the morning, you know. Don’t blame me if you stumble into work tomorrow half-asleep.”
Miles pressed a kiss on her collarbone and whispered, “Don’t try to act innocent. You made me do this.”
Every muscle in her body tensed beneath him. Her soft curves disappearing into hardened planes in an instant. Her breathing was suddenly jagged and forced, like she was hyperventilating.
Miles studied her face, watched how heavily her chest rose and fell. “Jamie, what’s wrong?”
“I’m fine. I just...I don’t feel very well all of a sudden.” She squirmed from beneath him and scrambled into the bathroom, shutting the door behind her before he could respond.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” He rushed to the door and turned the handle, but she’d locked it. Leaning forward with his forehead and palm against the door, he waited for her response. There was just her labored breathing and what sounded like muffled cries. He tried the handle again. “Whatever it is, just talk to me. Please.”
There was silence, then running water. Slowly the doorknob turned. He took a few steps back to allow her to exit the bathroom, but when he reached for her, she flinched, pulling her arm just out of his reach. “No. I mean...I think I’m coming down with something.”
He studied her face. She’d splashed it with water, but her eyes were still red and puffy. She wasn’t sick. She’d been crying.
“Can I get you something? Ginger ale? Pepto? Anything?”
“I don’t need anything. I’ll be—” For the first time she seemed embarrassed to be standing in front of him naked. She snatched the T-shirt she’d been wearing off the floor and tugged it over her head. “Fine. But it’d be better if I slept in the guest room tonight.”
“If you’re contagious, it’s pretty safe to say I’ve got it, too.” Miles forced a smile.
“For once, please...don’t fight me on this. I just need some space. I’ll be fine in the morning.”
He rubbed his chin and grimaced. “Was it something I did? Or something I s—”
“It’s nothing,” she replied quickly, arms folded, her eyes not meeting his. “Maybe something I ate didn’t agree with me. I’ll be fine, but I’d rather be alone. Or I could just go—”
“No.” Miles sighed heavily, his open palm held out to her. He ran the other hand through his crop of messy hair. “Take whichever guest room you’d like. But let me know if you need something, no matter what time it is. Alright?”
“Good night.” She grabbed her phone off the nightstand and slipped out of the bedroom, leaving him staring at the closed door.
What the hell happened?
One minute they were on the verge of making love, the next she’d freaked out, and he had no fucking clue what had happened or if he’d done something to cause it. She’d completely shut down. Whatever it was, she had no intention of letting him in.
He climbed into bed and folded an arm beneath his head. He didn’t know what happened tonight, but he’d find out. If he didn’t, she’d slip deeper into herself and further away from him. That was a risk he couldn’t take.
* * *
Jamie locked the door behind her and dove into the bed. The bedding still smelled new. Like trying out a bed in a department store. So much for the comfort of Mimi’s fancy high-thread-count, Egyptian cotton sheets. Every fiber in the bedding seemed to rub against her skin. Pulling the cover to her chin, she turned her back to the door. She just needed to breathe, nice and slow. No need for tears.
Don’t try to act innocent. You made me do this. You wanted it.
Lip trembling, the tears came again, soaking the pillow. Her entire body quivered, like she was walking through a snowstorm naked. That was how exposed she felt, freaking out in front of Miles like that. She could only imagine what he must be thinking.
It’d been a long time since she’d reacted like that, the memories of those horrible nights in her tiny bedroom rushing back to mind, as real as if they were happening at that moment.
You made me do this.
She clenched her fists at her sides, trying to force the smell of whiskey reeking from Leo’s breath and his distinct voice—gravelly from smoking since he was eleven—from her head. She tried not to feel his callused fingertips sliding up her inner thigh. But those words wouldn’t leave her.
You wanted it.
What she wanted right now was a hit of something strong enough to wipe those memories from her mind, even if just for the night. She pulled the covers tighter and hoped sleep would find her soon.
* * *
It’d been three days since that night at his place, and he hadn’t seen or spoken to Jamie since. She’d left cryptic voice mails, saying everything was fine and that he shouldn’t worry. But she wouldn’t answer the phone when he called—until this morning. She’d finally answered, asking him to meet her at the little French café he liked. Her tone was distant, like they were casual acquaintances, leaving an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“I’m going out for lunch. I’ll be a little late getting back.” Miles stopped in front of his assistant Meredith’s desk. “Don’t call me unless the place is on fire.” He winked at her.
“Ooh. Hot lunch date?” she teased.
“Something like that.” Miles took the elevator down to the lobby. He pulled his jacket up around his ears. It was fucking freezing outside and he’d forgotten to wear a hat. The wind whipped around the streets of downtown Cleveland, lashing at his nose and cheeks. He could already feel his ears turning red. Fortunately, the café was only a couple of blocks away. Jamie was seated near a side window. He caught her eye and smiled. Only her lips returned the gesture. That same pain was there, deep in her eyes, in the tenseness in her shoulders. His stomach clenched and the sound of his own heartbeat filled his ears.
“Hey, beautiful.” Miles leaned down and kissed her cheek, before sliding into the seat across from her. “I’ve missed you.”
“You, too,” she said, her gaze skirting his.
He slipped his coat onto the back of the chair. “I’m glad you wanted to meet for lunch. I know you’re usually painting or running errands at this time of day.”
“A girl’s gotta eat.” Jamie took a sip of water, her eyes still not meeting his. “So, how’s your week been?”
“Good, and yours?” He leaned forward in his seat. There were a dozen things he wanted to tell her. He’d landed an account the firm had been chasing for months. Kari had finally dumped her loser boyfriend. But none of that mattered right now. Something was going on with her and they weren’t leaving this table until he knew what it was.
Jamie picked up her glass and took a long gulp. She raised her eyes to his. “I’d rather talk about your week, if that’s okay.”
“If that’s what you really want.” He placed his hand over her tightly clenched fist. Her hand slowly relaxed. “But I’d rather talk abo
ut what’s bothering you. You can tell me anything. You know that, right?”
“Can I?” She raised her glistening eyes to his, her voice wavering. “Can I really tell you anything? Things I wouldn’t even want my best friend to know?”
He swallowed, tightening his grip on her hand, ignoring the erratic thumping in his chest. All morning he’d feared what she would say. That he’d lost her. Still, whatever it was, they couldn’t dance around it. “You can trust me with anything.”
Jamie withdrew her hand from his and cleared her throat. “Josephine—my bio mom—she’s back. In fact, she showed up again the same day I met you.”
“That must’ve been hard, seeing her again. What did she say?”
“She begged me to forgive her for being a crappy mother.”
Miles was quiet for a moment. Before he could speak, they were interrupted.
“Hi, I’m Marla and I’ll be your server.” A bright-eyed blonde flashed her teeth at them. “Would you like to hear the specials for today?”
Jamie looked as if she wanted to strangle the girl.
Miles squeezed her hand. “Hi, Marla, can you give us a few minutes?”
“Sure.” She nodded then went to another table.
“So have you seen her since then?”
“Twice. We met briefly for coffee a couple months ago. Then she showed up at my place last week.”
Miles could feel the tension in her grip. So that was the sore spot, her mother’s recent visit. “Why didn’t you call me?”
Jamie shrugged. “I haven’t told anyone. Not even Mel. I just wanted to forget about the whole incident.”
“But you can’t. Look at you. I’ve never seen you this tense.” He stroked her arm. “What happened?”
“She starts telling me about how awful her parents were. That she ran away from home when she was sixteen and married my dad when she was just seventeen. All this stuff she never told me before.”
“Do you believe her?” He asked the question gingerly.
Jamie tugged on her earlobe, her expression pensive. “I don’t know. I guess.”
“Does knowing more about her background make it easier to understand why she did some of the things she did?”
“It doesn’t excuse her for being an awful mother.” Her jaw tightened.
“I’m not saying it does.” His voice was soft, like he was trying to talk a tiger out of eating him alive. “But knowing the circumstances of someone’s life sometimes helps us to understand them more, to feel compassion for them.”
She jerked her head toward his, her eyes and mouth tight. “She destroys my life, and I’m supposed to feel sorry for her?”
Miles took a deep breath. Jamie was determined to start a fight. He had to stay calm. Don’t take it personal. “I’m sorry things weren’t better between you and your mom. Your circumstances are vastly different from mine, but I know a little about crappy parents, too,” he said. “You can’t let your mother or anyone else control your life. If you do, you give them all the power. That’s no way to get back at someone for treating you badly. Find your joy—the thing that truly makes you happy—and don’t let go of it. No matter what.”
She nodded, one knee bouncing under the table. “What right does she have to show up out of thin air and turn my life upside down? I was good—I mean, I am good. I won’t let her take that away from me.”
He squeezed her hand and smiled. “I’m glad you feel that way, but it doesn’t sound like she wants to wreck your life. Maybe she’s genuinely sorry.”
Jamie snatched her hand back and beckoned the server with it. “We’re ready to hear the specials now.”
* * *
Jamie watched Miles across the table, the way he gestured with his hands as he spoke. His wide smile had the women at the next table practically swooning every time they glanced his way. Miles was not the kind of guy she seemed predisposed to—bad boy on the outside, self-centered, immature little boy on the inside. The same kind of men who’d warmed her mother’s bed.
He was clever, undeniably handsome, lawfully employed and from a good family. They couldn’t be more different. For her, Miles was a step up. But what on earth did he see in her? She’d given him every opportunity to discover that she wasn’t the kind of girl he needed. That she could never be that girl. And yet he stuck around, digging deeper into the trenches. He was too nice to do what needed to be done. It was up to her to release him, so he could walk away guilt-free.
It would never work between them. How could it? They were from worlds as different as Venus and Saturn. His family had never struggled the way hers had. And she didn’t have a clue how to exist comfortably in his world. The passion and heat they’d shared was intense, unlike anything she’d experienced. But how long could it last before it burned out? Wouldn’t those differences eventually come between them, just like they had for her parents?
She’d always blamed Jo for driving Mattie away. But maybe they were doomed from the start. Her father had given up his way of life to be with Jo. No wonder he’d resented his wife. Maybe he resented Jamie, too. Jo had tried to be something she wasn’t capable of—a wife and mother. When things got tough she’d reverted to what was familiar. Jo’s implosion hadn’t just shattered her life; it’d destroyed hers and Mattie’s, too. Jamie wouldn’t do that to Miles. She cared too much for him.
Jamie sipped her soda as Miles tried his best to engage her in conversation. She pressed her lips into a smile at the appropriate moments, rewarding him for his efforts. But no matter how adorable he was, the smile wouldn’t penetrate her icy surface. Couldn’t lift the horrible mood she’d been in since her fight with Jo. She hadn’t told anyone else about Jo’s visit. Not Mel, not Ellie. If she did, she’d just end up telling them everything. Even the secret she’d kept from them so long.
Her insides ached like she was about to burst, her thoughts spinning out of control. Panic rose in her chest, like the little girl who couldn’t fight off the big, bad wolf who’d told her that she made him do it, that she’d wanted it. Suddenly the walls were closing in on her. She could barely breathe.
“Miles.” The urgency with which she said his name—cutting him off as he spoke—startled them both. Jamie took a deep breath and swallowed, her head swimming. Beads of sweat trickled down her back. She needed to say this while she had the nerve. “About the other night at your place...I was rude to you, and I’m sorry.”
He shifted in his seat, his warm, iridescent blue eyes focused on her, as if she was the only other person in the café. “I don’t need an apology. I need to know you’re okay.”
“Honestly?”
He smirked slightly. A silent No. What do you think? “Of course.”
She bit her lip and swallowed. “No, I’m not okay, and I probably never will be. But that’s my issue. It isn’t fair of me to dump my shit in your lap. You’re a really great guy, and—”
“So you are breaking up with me.” He gave her a long, pained look before shifting his gaze. “Why?”
Her mouth was dry, like she’d swallowed a pound of sand. “Not because I don’t like you. I do. Like you. A lot. But that’s the problem—”
“You’re breaking up with me because you like me.” He managed to keep his voice steady, but his mocking tone did a poor job of masking how hurt he was.
“I’m giving you the opportunity to walk away unscathed.” She sat taller in her seat. The heels of her Doc Martens boots pressed into the floor so hard her ankles hurt. “Because you’re too decent a guy to do it yourself.”
Jamie forced herself to meet his stare. The pain in his eyes nearly took her breath away. Biting the inside of her cheek so hard she could taste blood, she turned her head toward the window.
“I know you’re scared. But this isn’t what I want, and it’s not what you want, either. So why are you doing this?” He leaned across the table, taking her hand in his.
Her first instinct was to withdraw her hand, keeping it just out of his reach. But she missed
his touch, the warmth of his skin against hers, the comfort and safety she felt when she was wrapped in his arms. A small gasp escaped her lips as she closed her eyes, willing herself to be strong enough for both of them.
He gripped her other hand in his, pulling her out of her temporary mental reprieve. “Was it something I did that night? Did I offend you?”
She shook her head, her gaze on the table.
“Was it something I said?”
She raised her eyes to his, wincing as she remembered the innocent words he’d uttered teasingly, not knowing they would ignite the latent time bomb inside her chest.
“Look, whatever it was I said, I didn’t mean anything by it. Just tell me what it was and—”
“It doesn’t matter.” She shook her head. “Because you didn’t do anything wrong. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. It’s not you, it’s me. This isn’t some bullshit breakup line. I’m being honest.”
“I’m not sure you understand what that means.” He snorted, releasing her hands and sitting erect. His jaw was clenched and the muscles of his neck were corded. He dragged his fingers through his hair. “Being honest means opening yourself up to the people who care about you. It means admitting the truth, even when it’s hard or you’re afraid they won’t like what they hear. And maybe you’re not being honest with me right now because I haven’t been completely straight with you about how I feel, so here goes...I’m way past liking you, Jamie. The way I feel about you...I haven’t felt this way about anyone in a really long time. I don’t even know exactly how it happened or when I first realized it. But it feels like it began the night we met. You’re all I’ve been able to think of since then. So when you say I’ll be able to walk away unscathed—that’s bullshit. I’m already in too deep. So at least do me the courtesy of being honest about what happened that night, about why you want to walk away from—”
“My mother’s boyfriend molested me when I was twelve.” The words rushed out so quickly, she wasn’t sure she’d said them aloud. She hoped the voice had only been her head. But the tormented look on his face told her he’d heard it, too.