“My name is Vanessa Pickett,” says the woman with the emerald eyes. She takes Ty's hand and shakes it firmly. When she sees me scoping out the wall of murals, she turns and looks at it, too, like she's seeing it for the first time, eyes darting along the stories pictured there. “It's pretty, isn't it?” she asks as I drop my gaze to her face. As if she can feel my eyes on her, she turns and looks straight at me. “What do you think of it, Miss Ross?” I shrug my shoulders and go for a cigarette. It's that or gum, anything that gives me an excuse not to talk, and I think I could use the nicotine right about now. Vanessa doesn't stop me. This room already smells like smoke anyway, and most of the windows are either broken or look rusted and seem to be stuck open.
“Would you like to help me set up the rug?” she asks, and I raise my brows.
“Rug?” Ty asks as he looks over at Vanessa. She laughs and gestures for us to follow her. There's a massive, metal box against the wall, wet on the top from the rain that's splattering in through the empty windows. Vanessa unlocks the padlock with a key and tosses Ty and I a pair of towels to dry off with. In the box is an assortment of things, once of which is a massive rug, rolled neatly and tied with a bit of rope. Ty wraps his towel around his shoulders and helps Vanessa lift it out and drag it across the floor to a dry spot in the center of the room. She unties the knot and kicks it out flat.
“I find that this works better than those horrible plastic chairs,” she says, and I shiver. I couldn't agree more, so I help her pin down the curling edges with stacks of old books that she retrieves from her metal box. When we're done with that, she pulls out a plastic bag filled with yellow T-shirts. Get SOGgy, they say. Sexual obsession is a disease. Find your cure today. She gives one of these to Ty and one to me. “You don't have to wear them,” she says with a white-toothed smile. “They're just for fun, but some people find it helpful to have a uniform of sorts. It makes them feel like they belong and we all need a little of that now and again, don't we?” Neither Ty nor I say a thing. He's as nervous as me, I can tell by the way he's pacing around. I, on the other hand, stand stone still, but my hands shake so badly that I tuck them in the pockets of the coat. “Have a seat if you'd like,” Vanessa says as she sets a backpack down on the edge of the rug. From it, she removes a tablet along with a bag of colorful coins.
“Come on, Nev,” Ty says, using the same nickname that Lacey gave me. I like it. A lot. I smile at him. “Put on the tee?” I raise my brows, watch as he lifts his shirt above his head and tosses it in a soggy heap on the floor. My pulse starts to race and my blood runs hot. Ty's midsection is a work of art, a collection of grooves and hard muscles that make up a wide chest and a thin waist that tapers down to perfect hips. His pants are hanging tantalizingly low, dragged down by the rainwater, and I catch a hint of deep grooves on either side of his body, that 'V' shape that a lot of women, including myself, go nuts for.
Shit.
I take my jacket off, suddenly hot, and put my cigarette into the glass ashtray that Vanessa sets out. I wonder what kind of woman I am that I'm horny just hours after a fairly humiliating STD test. A crazy one, is the only answer to that question, so I busy myself with slipping on the yellow tee over my tank top. Mine, at least, is dry thanks to Ty's coat. And the fact that he gave it to me doesn't escape my attention. I have heard Lacey say before that she only gives her jacket to girls she really likes because there's a chance she'll never get it back and she wants to be okay with that. Ty is okay with that? Or does he think that we'll be hanging out enough that he could easily retrieve it if needed? Either way, the thought is sort of terrifying. And nice. Both and neither. God, how did I get into this mess?
“Sit by me,” Ty says as he settles himself on a corner of the rug and tugs me down next to him. Our knees touch and the air around me feels hot. There's a storm brewing outside, sending cold gusts of wind and water into the building and I'm hot. Wow. I really do need this meeting.
“So,” Vanessa asks as she moves her finger across the screen of the silver tablet. She smiles and her eyes crinkle at the corners. “I know I spoke to you over the phone, Mr. McCabe, but do you have any questions about the process?”
“Uh, no, I'll just go with the flow,” Ty replies, smiling without his dimples.
“How about you, Miss Ross?” I shrug and light another cigarette. Ty pulls it out of my mouth and sticks it in his with a wink. I get out another.
“I'm okay,” I say, and Vanessa nods with a secretive, little smile that tells me I might not be. I let my eyes drift to the side and watch water drip down the wall and pool into a puddle on the floor. Moments later, they start to trickle in, a sea of people so ordinary that I wouldn't pick them out of a lineup. Ty and I are the strangest looking ones there. Especially Ty. Most definitely Ty. I notice that a few of the women notice him, let their eyes linger just a bit. To my relief, Ty doesn't look at any of them. In fact, he seems completely checked out. I touch his hand and he blinks like he's coming to. Then he leans over and whispers into my ear, sending chills down my spine.
“Whatever I say here, whatever I do, don't hold it against me.” I nod and I know that I won't. How can I? Where's my high ground? That's right, I don't have any.
“Okay,” Vanessa begins, lighting a series of small candles and sticking them in the center of the rug. “Now that we're all here … ” She lets her eyes trail around the twelve faces that are present, pausing for just a moment longer on mine and Ty's. “I'd like to introduce two new members to SOG. This fine gentleman here is Ty McCabe.” Ty holds up a hand and gives a tight smile. I wonder if he wonders about getting up and leaving, just walking out. That's what I'm thinking about, even though I know I won't do it. The way I felt at the clinic, like I was right where I was supposed to be, that's how I feel here, too. “And the lovely, young woman next to him is Never Ross.”
“Printed just like it sounds right across the top of my birth certificate,” I say, use to getting stares and questions about my name. It is strange. Admittedly, I've never met another person with it. At least it makes it easy to tell me apart. The group claps and smiles, but I can see that they're looking at us like we're outsiders. This is not going to be easy.
“What we're going to do to start off the day is get to know Never and Ty, learn some of their secrets.” Vanessa smiles, but I shift uncomfortably. I don't like sharing secrets, especially with myself. And there are a lot of them buried down inside, waiting for me to take notice, to take control. I swallow hard and look at Ty. He's staring right at me, through me maybe. God, we're the same, me and him. “Why don't we go around the circle, introduce ourselves, and say something that we feel represents the deepest part of us, anything at all. Is there anyone that would like to start?”
“I'll go first,” Ty says, dark eyes still searching mine. It's making me nervous, so I look away. “My name is Tyson by birth,” Ty says as he takes a drag on his cigarette. I'm just letting mine burn, watching the cherry crackle like fire. I don't want to inhale; I can't. I want to block out all of Ty's words, put him back in my dangerous boys category, forget about why he hurts and who he is, go home and cry. I want to do this because like Ty, I'm afraid, too. I'm terrified. I make myself sit still, prove to myself that I'm as brave as I'd like to believe I am. “But if you call me that, I won't answer. I lost my virginity at thirteen, got roped into the sex trade, and worked as a whore for a good portion of my adult life.” I don't look at him. I won't look at him. I can't look at him. “I had male and female clients and I rarely used condoms. If I die tomorrow, it won't be a surprise.” Ty's voice is so bitter that I have to squeeze my eyes shut to listen to him. You brought us here, I think at him frantically. You opened up this Pandora's box. I want nothing more than to slam it shut in that moment, let it fester and burn. What's so wrong with being tortured anyway? My emotions are on a roller coaster right now and it's making me sick. At least when I was unhappy, I was always unhappy. I can't stand these fluctuations; they sting too much.
“You sound p
issed off, Ty,” Vanessa says, and I look back at her. I won't look at anyone else, but I'll look at her. She's sitting up straight with her tablet in her lap and her green eyes locked on Ty's.
“Damn right I'm pissed off,” he says, and I can see from the corner of my eye that he's running his hand through his dark hair. “I can't … I don't … ” Ty tries to get me to look at him by putting a hand on my knee, but I push it off and let it fall to the rug. He's asking for my help. Fuck. When I went to find him today, I didn't expect this. I guess I expected some kind of fairytale crap, but this is the real world, the world where Ty and I got ourselves into trouble and are just now realizing that we need to get out. “I'm sorry,” Ty says as he takes a massive breath. “I've been preparing myself for this for the past few days. I had a speech planned, but I forgot all of it. Honestly, I'm a little freaked out.” Vanessa nods.
“Understandable,” she says. “Would you like to continue?” Presumably Ty shakes his head because Vanessa moves on, swinging her gaze to mine. My spine stiffens and I feel my fingers curling around my knees. I reach up suddenly and grab my cigarette, take a huge drag and try to hold the smoke in my lungs. “What about you, Never? Would you like to go next?” I blow out the smoke slowly, so very slowly.
“My name is Never, and I'm a sex addict. Can I go now?” There are some nervous chuckles around the group, but Vanessa sees right through me.
“That's great that you can admit that, Never, but we're not about twelve steps or confessions or any of that bullshit here. We're real people with real problems. Do you have a problem, Never?”
“I don't know,” I reply honestly. “Is being promiscuous a problem? Men have been praised for centuries for doing exactly what I'm doing. I go out, find guys I like, and fuck them. Maybe I'm just a stud?”
“Do you feel like a stud, Never?” Vanessa asks. She knows that I'm bullshitting her, and she doesn't like it. I know I have a problem. Looking for people to fill the holes inside of me is not going to make me better. They get in there and they break me up inside. They make me miss home and the possibilities that might've happened had I stayed. I dream sometimes that I never left that night, that I stayed with Noah Scott and got married. See, Noah Scott is the kind of guy you can take home to your family, show off, and know that at the end of the day, he'll be there for you. That's who Noah Scott was. See, this guy next to me, this Ty McCabe, he's one of the dangerous ones, the ones with pasts that burn like fire and melt everything around them.
“I don't know, Vanessa,” I say feeling confrontational all of a sudden. “I stopped counting at forty.” There's no reaction from the group, no murmuring, nothing. If they're judging me, they're doing it quietly.
“What do you love most about yourself?” Vanessa asks, and the most horrible thing about that question is that I don't have any answer. “Don't answer that yet,” she says suddenly, like she's a fucking mind reader or something. “We'll come back to you. Ben, would you like to go next?” I finish my cigarette, toss it into the ashtray and start on another. And another. I start a new cigarette for every person who speaks, all ten of them, and when the circle finally returns to Vanessa, I feel sick. From the nicotine, from the smoke, from the stories, I don't know. I hear the words empty, lonely, helpless, afraid. They repeat these over and over again as they share bits of themselves with me. I smoke and stare out at them with tired eyes and a down turned mouth.
“My name is Vanessa Pickett, and I have worked as a professional escort, a stripper, and even a madam. I'm not proud of it, but I also can't claim I was forced into it or driven to it through abuse. I had a good life, and I was raised well, but there was something inside of me that sought out more. I was always seeking it, but could never find it.” She's looking straight at me, waiting for some kind of reaction. I refuse to give her one.
“When my son passed away, I was forced to look at the world in a different way. I realized that I had missed out on his life. Spending time with people you love and who love you is the easiest path to recovering that part of yourself that's missing. Whether it's a lover or a friend or a child, the best place to find solace is in a warm heart.”
“Or a warm bed,” I say because I'm getting pissed off. I might've left my baggage at the clinic, but now I feel open and empty and bare. I don't like that. Not at all. My fear makes me angry, and right now, I want to rage.
“Tell me, Never,” Vanessa says, trying to distract me with the bag of shiny coins that sits in front of her. “How many days has it been since you last had sex.”
“A week.” I don't look at Ty.
“And you, Mr. McCabe?” I hear him swallow.
“A week.”
The group claps and Vanessa retrieves two, shiny, red chips from her bag. She passes them over to Ty who drops one in my palm. Seven Days is etched into the top. Great.
“This is the one thing we have adopted from the other addiction groups that are out there. It's a good reminder, something to keep in your pocket, a physical declaration of your commitment. We stop giving the chips out at six months. After that, if you're ready to have sex with someone, then that's your choice.”
“Isn't it always my choice?” I snap, but Ty steps in before I can make an even bigger ass out of myself.
“Is it alright if Never and I act as each other's sponsors?” Vanessa nods and touches a finger to her tablet.
“Absolutely,” she says as she glances at some of the other group members. “This isn't about rules or punishments or meetings, this is about saying what needs to be said, learning from others, and getting better.”
“Thank you,” Ty tells her honestly as I watch Vanessa pull out a blue chip. It says One Month on it, and all of a sudden, I am just so freaking pissed off that I can't sit still. I watch as some of the other group members celebrate milestones and feel this hot rage boiling inside of myself. I keep a lid on this, hold it back while people make dinner plans to celebrate being able to keep their dick in their pants, to keep their fucking legs closed. Good for them. Great for them.
“So, Ty, I'd like to ask you about your turning point. We all have them, something that changes our mind, that makes us aware of our problem. What's yours?”
I let my anger get the best of me once and for all and answer for him.
“He was afraid that I loved him, so he fucked somebody to forget about me.”
“Never,” Vanessa begins but I cut her off.
“Then he came over and fucked me. That's his turning point. Want to hear mine?”
“Come on, Never,” Ty says, reaching out and trying to take my hand. I pull it away from him and rise to my feet. My breath is coming in short, sharp bursts, and I can't sit still. I look around the group, scan the faces that are raised to mine, and I don't see straight. I need to get out of here. Now.
“I have to go,” I say, and then I turn and run away as fast as my legs can carry me.
23
Ty finds me a few hours later sitting on the swings outside his house.
I've been here all day, waiting for him, wanting to apologize. When I hear his footsteps and look up, he smiles at me.
“I went to your dorm, but you weren't there.”
“Did you fuck anybody?” I ask, ready to get up and leave. I didn't. I wanted to, but I resisted the urge. I came here instead, ran all the way here and sat on this swing for three and a half hours waiting. For what, I don't know, but I did, and I want Ty to respect that.
“I didn't,” he promises me.
“Liar.”
“Never, if I had, I would tell you.”
“You're the kind of guy that lies, that cheats, that – ” Ty takes my chin in his hand and forces me to look at him. I try to jerk my gaze away, but he won't let me.
“Maybe. And you're the kind of girl that loves and leaves, that breaks hearts without even knowing that you're doing it. If you want, we could be good friends, Never.”
“I've been nothing but honest with you,” I tell him. “Can you do the same with me?”
“I'm willing to try,” he says, and when I open my mouth to protest, he releases me and steps back. “That's the best I can do. I'm sorry you feel betrayed by me, Never, I really do, but I never intended for that to happen. Just tell me what you want from me, and I'll do my best to respect that.”
“Ty, I have one chance left. If I give it to you, will you make sure that I don't regret it?”
“Of course,” he says, but I don't think he gets it.
“I'm drowning in lies, McCabe. One more and I will sink. Do you understand me?” Ty and I stare at one another for a long time. After a few moments, I sit back down on the swing. Ty moves around behind me and wraps his hands around mine, curling our fingers around the chains.
“Okay, Never,” Ty says. “Give me your chance, and I'll give you mine.” I look up at him, crane my neck up so that I'm leaning back on the swing. When Ty starts to push me, I don't protest.
“So am I allowed back to come back to the group?” Ty chuckles.
“Vanessa begged me to bring you next week. She says that you remind her of herself.” I smile because that woman is strong, like a pillar. I'd like to be that way someday, too. “So no sex for six months?” I ask and Ty grins.
“No sex for six months.”
“Should I get you tissues and lotion for Christmas?”
“Nah,” Ty says. “I can't wait that long for it. I'll get them myself. What about you? Do you want a vibrator for Christmas?”
“I have three.” Ty pauses and his dimples appear, deep and round in his perfect face.
“I knew it,” he says and a chuckle escapes my throat. Ty pushes me harder and I rise into the sky, feet pointed towards the stars.
“Ty,” I say because I think this is important. Whether Ty believes he did something wrong or not, I was angry with him, so I have to do this. “I forgive you.” Ty stops the swing by wrapping his arms around my waist and pressing his face into my hair. I get chills down my spine and the mood at our dark, little playground goes from angry to happy to sad.
Tasting Never (Never say Never) Page 10