Crazy About Love: An All About Love Novel

by Cassie Mae

  His eyes are green—the next fuzzy image I see. Show me a man with green eyes and I’ll show you a woman with wobbly knees.

  Something vibrates against my hip, and my half-asleep mind wants it to be Alec calling, texting, IM-ing, emailing…but my awake mind frowns when it realizes it’s an unknown number.

  Since it could be one of the people I invited for tonight, I do the unthinkable and answer it instead of ignoring it, like I do with every other mystery phone call.

  “This is Theresa.”

  “This is Eli. I come in peace.”

  My soft and gentle stomach flutters dip into a heavy tarlike substance, and I sit up, feeling the weight of the familiar voice echoing through the phone.

  “H-hey,” I stutter, then clear my throat. “Did you…did you change your number?”

  “You know how you told me to stop sticking my phone in my back pocket?” he says, playfulness in his tone. It makes a small laugh sneak its way out of my mouth.

  “Did you sit on it? Crack the screen with your bony ass?”

  “Worse. Fell into the toilet when I pulled my pants up.” He laughs. “It was a goner.”

  His lighthearted tone and humorous story tug at parts of me I haven’t felt in a long while. Suddenly, turning down Alec doesn’t feel like the wrong decision. This reminds me of why I had to tell him no.

  “So please save this number,” Eli says.

  “Only if this phone doesn’t find your back pocket.”

  “It’s in the front. Though I’m telling you, it’s not comfortable.”

  “You get used to it.” I run a hand over my knee, noting that a shave before the party tonight is probably in order. “I…I was going to call you, actually.”

  “Yeah?”

  I shouldn’t be nervous. This is my boyfriend. Sort of. Maybe I shouldn’t refer to him as that because I’ve done what he’s asked. There are certainly more notches in my bedpost, but anyone who got close to taking my heart I turned away. “Anyone” meaning Alec. No one else has come close.

  So what does that make Eli? A soulmate, perhaps? If only I believed in that notion.

  I wipe my palm on the carpet and switch ears with the phone. “I thought we should check in. This is our senior year.”

  “Mm-hmm.”

  I wait for more, but he doesn’t give me anything else. So I suppose I’ll go first.

  “So, I’ve been having fun,” I say with an airy laugh. He echoes it, which makes me feel better about talking about this at least.

  “Me too, T. Me too. Thank you for giving me that.”

  Saying you’re welcome doesn’t exactly sit right on my tongue, so I just keep going with my original intent. “But my heart…I mean, that’s still yours if you want it.”

  The small moment of airiness in the conversation dies between us, my words beating it down with a spiked bat. I can feel the awkward tension oozing through the speaker, dripping down my chin, dropping onto my knees, eating me up and making me dumb. Eli clears his throat, and I just know he’s rubbing his chin or playing with his hair. I wonder if it’s even still long anymore or if he’s cut it. It’s been so long since I’ve looked at his profile pictures.

  “T…,” he starts, and my voice comes back, surprising me with the sharp edge it takes.

  “Don’t,” I say. “Don’t coddle me.”

  A pause. “Okay.”

  Now there’s silence. Aching silence that buzzes in my ears, making it not silent at all. I swallow hard, pushing back the intense and scary sting of yet another rejection. I refuse to let this one change me.

  “Was I completely naive to think we’d be together after this?”

  “No.” He sighs. “We still have a few more months, T.”

  “Stop coddling,” I say again. Eli only calls me “T” when he’s trying to calm me down. I realize then that I hate it. I hate that nickname with every ounce of disdain I have in me. I don’t like how he tries to calm me down when I want to feel what I feel when I feel it. He makes me think that the emotions I have are unjustified. I used to think he was my anchor—he calmed the storm and kept me grounded by comforting me with fancy words that sounded logical. But maybe he just didn’t want to deal with my crazy.

  Alec has never once made me feel stifled. When I’m mad, he lets me feel it. Then he’s always there when I come down.

  The comparison knocks me off balance, and my head spins. I touch my hand to my forehead and try to crawl back into the conversation.

  “Just be honest with me,” I tell Eli. “Are you saving your heart like you promised? Or was this a plan to let us slowly fade away?”

  “My heart isn’t with anyone else,” he says. “But…I can’t say it’s yours anymore either.”

  I let my hand drop back to my knee. “Are you capable of a straight answer?” I practically growl at him. “If you don’t say yes or no to the next question, I’m hanging up. Do you still want me?”

  The pause is so long, I’m tempted to say the question again. Instead he gets to hear the grinding of my teeth.

  “Maybe.”

  I pull the phone away from my ear and slide the red button. Guess I should’ve told him I was going to hang up if the answer was anything but a solid yes.

  —

  A cruel sunbeam shines brightly through my eyelids, making me see orange before I’ve even opened my eyes. The events of last night swirl together in my pounding head, paint and laughter and…kissing. The kissing might’ve been all in my head, though.

  With a low groan, I roll over, my brain taking longer to roll with me. The bedsheets feel too rough to be my eight-hundred-thread-count ones from Bed Bath & Beyond. Perks of being friends with the manager.

  It takes more effort than it should to lift my heavy eyelids and greet the morning. When they finally budge and let me take in the room, I notice that my sheets have been saved by a couple of towels, one folded and resting under my head and the other spread out and wrinkled from my night of sleep.

  I know for a fact that I’m not responsible enough sober, let alone wasted, to lay out a protective barrier. I most likely would’ve tried to wash off all the paint from my body in a hot shower and passed out in the tub. In a small moment of panic, I swing my arm back, half expecting Jace in the bed next to me. The last thing I remember is Liz pushing me down at a table across from him, asking him to make sure I got home okay. Jace and I had a conversation about marriage and how much we both hate it, and I’m pretty sure I propositioned him. He’s safe. He won’t take my heart and keep it for years and years only to tell me he doesn’t want it anymore. All I’d get from him is sex, and after Eli’s call, that sounded like a good fix.

  The left side of the mattress is cold, empty, and unruffled. I breathe out a sigh of relief, but without the panicked distraction I’m back to feeling the relentless knocking in my skull. I’d promise myself never to drink again, but I know that I’d break it as soon as I saw a bottle of Riesling.

  Other than my excessive refreshment, the engagement party seemed to be a success. Liz and Landon started a paint war that went on for a few hours; I was really only aware of half of it. Even Alec seemed to be having a good time, dancing with Jaycee and a few other girls. I was tempted to dance with him too, but didn’t want to push things. In my state I’m sure that if I got within ten feet of him, I would’ve jumped his bones in front of everybody. As much as I truly believe turning him away was the right thing to do, I can’t deny the physical responses I have in his presence.

  I pick up my phone to send a text to Liz. Better apologize in case I made a fool of myself for her celebration.

  There’s already a message there.

  Good morning, drinky! I saw Alec got you home safe. Call me when you get up. Thanks for last night!!!

  I sit up and immediately regret it, putting a hand to my head and breathing through the hangover pain. I want to force my memory to come to the surface, but with everything else happening, I highly doubt it will happen. Alec took me home, not Jace. When
did they pull that switch? And I have no clue how Liz knows about it, unless Alec told her. He must’ve told her. Seems like a responsible, Alec thing to do.

  I swivel my legs over the edge of the bed and wobble up to my feet. I use the wall and my furniture to help me to the bathroom. On the way I pass the closet and notice that my shoes are all organized. Huh. Very unlike me.

  After morning business, I wash my hands and notice long blond strands on the counter. Liz must’ve showered here after the party. Good for her. She made it through day one of her sex hiatus. During our conversation yesterday she admitted that her engagement nookie wasn’t as stellar as she hoped, so now she’s trying to go the entire engagement period celibate so that her wedding night is absolute heaven. I’m preparing for a very on-edge best friend for a few weeks until she finally gives in.

  I dry my hands off and head to the coffeemaker to get it started while I shower off the stink of last night. Thank God I didn’t sleep with anyone; I’m no stranger to the drunken mistake.

  Covering a yawn, I push the coffeepot into place and search the cluttered counter for a clean mug. There isn’t one, and I’m pretty sure I’ve used all the clean ones from the dishwasher.

  “Ugnnn…”

  At the sound of the low groan, I jump completely out of my slippers, skinning my elbow on the edge of the counter. Alec stretches on the couch, his painted shirt slipping up enough for me to see his happy trail and the cut V of his hips. He hoists himself up, scratching at the green and yellow paint that’s stained his blond hair. A low dip in my gut sends what I thought was a dream to the forefront of my mind.

  “Shit.”

  His sleepy eyes crinkle at the corners, and he stifles a yawn. “Morning to you, too.”

  The feel of his hair, his lips, his body on mine…it comes back to me in a vague sensory memory, like I may have still dreamed it all, but I’m now 70 percent sure that something did in fact happen. I sink to my elbows, covering my face and muttering into my palms.

  “Tell me everything. Don’t you dare leave out any details, no matter how embarrassing they are.”

  I fan out my fingers to peek at Alec’s face. His eyebrow rises, disappearing into the green strands of hair covering his forehead. He reaches for the towel he must’ve placed on my couch last night and starts folding it into a perfect square.

  “What do you remember?” he asks, a grin teasing at the corner of his mouth.

  “Nothing. Details aren’t a drunk’s forte.”

  He silently laughs and leans against the counter next to me, close enough that I can feel his heat. I really don’t mind it.

  “I took you home and put you to bed. It was late, so I crashed here.” His dimple crease fades a little. “Nothing embarrassing.”

  “You are the world’s worst liar.” I take a deep breath. “Tell me. I can handle it.”

  His dimple makes a genuine appearance now, and he grins up at the ceiling. “You were very friendly.”

  “Oh God.”

  “And quite vocal about my good looks.”

  I toss my aching head back to take his place gazing at the ceiling while he turns his attention to me.

  “Handsy, too. Forceful. You’re way stronger than I gave you credit for.”

  “Alec…”

  He puts his hands up, playful grin on his face. “You wanted details.”

  I nibble at my bottom lip. “How naked did we get?”

  “Depends on your rating system. I’d say PG-13.”

  “Hand stuff, then?”

  His eyes widen and a laugh pops from his mouth. “What rating system are you using?” He laughs again. “You just unzipped my pants.”

  “That is so not PG-13 material. PG, maybe.”

  “You’d let your kids watch that?”

  “PG stands for ‘parental guidance.’ People are in their underwear on Disney shows.”

  He shakes his head. “Yeah, but they aren’t…excited.”

  “There’s one in The Little Mermaid.”

  “Only adults and horny teenagers notice that.”

  I giggle, then groan and frown because it rattles my headache. Alec’s eyes turn sympathetic and he gently smooths some strands of hair from my face.

  “Coffee,” he says, and I nod.

  “Do you need any?” I ask while he grabs a mug and cranks on the water to wash it.

  “I was surprisingly sober for the evening.”

  One of my eyebrows rises. “So, you remember everything with perfect clarity?”

  He pauses, his soapy thumbs rubbing circles on the cat design on the outside of the coffee mug. I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard. “As much as I can, given that it’s still early,” he teases, but the joke doesn’t reach his eyes. He really is a terrible liar.

  I reach over and open the cabinet that holds all my spices. I take out my small bag of sugar and fill up the sugar cup I keep next to the coffeemaker. “You were excited, huh?” I ask, trying to bring the conversation back to its playful nature.

  “Hmm?”

  “Zipper down, Alec up?” I tease, holding back a laugh. He rolls his eyes to meet mine, and shakes his head.

  “You were very friendly, Theresa.” He pauses to shut off the water and dry off the now-clean mug. “I’m also not the only one cursed with a desirable body.”

  I snort and toss a spoonful of sugar at him, which he immediately wipes up with a rag. I don’t know how he tolerates my messy habits; he’s the only one who doesn’t badger or tease me about the unorganized disaster of my apartment.

  He gets my coffee ready, and I take soothing sips while he talks about the party and how Liz was crazy to ask Jace to watch over me when he was well on his way to passing out. I tell him that I may have offered myself to Jace in a state of absolute stupidity, and he laughs, but it doesn’t sound very genuine. I usually risk hurt feelings in the name of honesty, though. From what I’ve learned with Eli, I never ever want to tiptoe around things to avoid the truth, as painful as it may be to hear.

  After my cup is drained, Alec heads to the living room and folds up his other towel. I watch his practiced hands make perfect creases in the fluffy fabric, imagine those hands on me, and wish I could remember how they felt. Last night couldn’t have been easy; it’s only been a week since he expressed his feelings for me, said he wanted to kiss me. I’m pretty sure that happened last night, and what’s worse isn’t the fact that I don’t remember it, but the fact that he does.

  He flumps the towel on top of the other one and searches his pocket for his keys. I don’t know his plans for the day; I haven’t known his plans at all. I used to know every detail of his life; now I’m so unsure of where he’s going, and it hurts my heart.

  “Heading out?” I ask, setting the mug into the very full sink. Cleaning is on my to-do list today, unfortunately.

  “Yep. Errands to run, laundry to fold, girls to get over.” He winks, but it doesn’t help the guilt I’ve been feeling. I rush to block the door, holding my arms out to make myself wider. His eyebrows rise in amusement.

  “Did I hurt you?” I ask, staring him dead in the eyes, knowing he’ll hold my gaze for much longer than is socially acceptable.

  The playful smile returns to his lips. “You were aggressive.”

  “No,” I say, forcing my voice to stay serious. “Alec…did I hurt you?”

  The small pauses have been killing me, but this pause is so long that I think I die and then reincarnate, all within its time frame. I watch the greens of his eyes; the small amount of sun peeking through the slats in my blinds create tiny sparkles in his irises, making them look watery. He slowly opens his mouth, the playfulness gone.

  “No. You didn’t hurt me.”

  He’s lying. I know it, he knows I know it, but neither of us refutes it. Unlike me, he lies to protect me from the truth. He doesn’t know why I find that more painful, and he deserves to know everything, including the conversation I had yesterday.

  “Eli called me,” I blurt out. />
  His body tenses, but he doesn’t look like he’s leaving anymore.

  “When?”

  “Yesterday.” I drop my arms to my sides. “That’s why…”

  “Why you kissed me?”

  I shake my head. “Why I drank so much.”

  He studies me, and I study him, unsure of what he’s thinking. At first I think he’s upset, but then his expression changes so quickly that I think he’s dejected. He rubs at his hair, then gestures to the couch. We both sit, knees angled toward each other, and I tell him everything. How the open relationship was supposed to end up exclusive again, how I never allowed my heart to beat for anyone else, how I feel completely betrayed by promises that were never intended to be kept.

  Somehow I don’t cry.

  I can tell he doesn’t know how to react. It’s not surprising, given the information I’m throwing at him. I cautiously reach for his hand, needing to hold on to my friend.

  “Do you think less of me?” I ask.

  He shakes his head, dried paint flicking onto our joined fingers.

  “Say something, then.”

  “You might not like it,” he admits, his voice crackly from keeping silent for so long.

  “Okay.”

  “It might hurt you.”

  “Say it anyway.”

  His eyes meet mine. “Things are going to change. Between us. I know I promised they wouldn’t, but they will. They have.”

  I nod. “I know.”

  “But that doesn’t mean we can’t get it back. It’s just going to take time. My heart’s still…like yours. It’s not ready.”

  He makes perfect sense, and his understanding and honesty don’t hurt the way I thought they would. It makes things better, like there is an answer to this, that down the road there will be a someday, not just an empty promise of “we’ll see.” Alec and I will get back to where we were; I can feel it.