I shake my head, changing the subject. I just can’t talk about it anymore. Not if I don’t want to break down again.
“I’m sorry, Mila,” I tell her tiredly. “I don’t mean to bring you down. You’ve got enough on your plate being stuck in bed. I really just came out here to help with the baby’s room. It needs to be organized and I doubt Pax will know what to do with it.”
Mila nods, eyeing me carefully. “Well, that part’s right. Pax has no clue what to do with the baby things. But don’t think you can’t talk to me, Mad. Trust me, I know how you’re feeling right now. If you need to talk again, I’m here.”
“Thank you,” I tell her softly, as I bend and kiss her cheek before I head out the door.
“Don’t give up, Maddy,” she calls after me. “I mean it!
I don’t answer. I just walk down the hall to the baby’s room and open the door.
A flood of sunshiny yellow greets me as light from the windows hits the yellow walls. Pax hired a painter to come in and paint it yellow, per Mila’s request. Since they don’t want to know the sex of the baby, they had to be gender-neutral. And Mila loves the sun.
Fuck the sun. I hate the sun today.
I look around at the unopened boxes, at the baby monitors, the stacks of clothing with the tags still on, the stroller still in the box. Pax has ordered all the right supplies, he just has no idea what to do with it all.
Which is why I’m here. Hopefully it will keep my mind off my own pain.
I get to work. I put together the changing table in a logical place in the room, next to the mahogany crib. I line up all the little baby care things on the shelf next to it: the powder, the lotion, the nail clippers.
I hang the mobile over the bed, adjusting the colorful kites so that they’re the right height. I put sheets on the crib mattress. I set up the baby monitor. I fluff the pillows on the rocking chair.
And then I sit in it and fold the tiny baby clothes so I can put them away.
As I stare at the tiny little undershirt in my hands, at the way it’s hardly bigger than my hand, my vision blurs as tears fill my eyes.
I won’t have this… not for a long time. Maybe not ever.
Gabe left me and I don’t want anyone else. I can’t imagine ever wanting anyone else… so a family, a baby, a husband… a happy life… it’s out of my grasp.
I close my eyes and just let myself cry again, quietly in the sun… the sun that refuses to leave me alone.
I don’t know how long I cry. All I know is that finally I don’t have any tears left. I’m totally spent. My throat feels scratchy and hoarse and my eyes are hot.
I can’t cry anymore. It’s all gone.
I open my eyes to find Pax sitting across the room on the delicate white love seat.
“What the…” I’m startled. “How long have you been here?”
He stares at me, his hazel eyes troubled. “Long enough. Tell me where he is. I’m going to beat his ass.”
I shake my head, staring at my hands.
“Not you too. Mila already threatened that. Not that she’s actually a threat. He didn’t mean to hurt me, Pax. He was asleep. Like I explained to Mila, he has PTSD. He honestly didn’t know what he was doing.”
Pax shakes his head. “That’s not what I’m beating his ass for. I believe that he didn’t mean to hurt you. He’s not that kind of guy. I can tell. What I’m going to beat his ass for is leaving you like this. It’s a dick thing to do.”
My eyes well up again, even though I thought my tears were all gone.
One drips down my nose and onto my hand.
“I wish I’d never met him at all,” I confess painfully. “I wish he had never come here. Then I wouldn’t feel like this right now. I wouldn’t feel like someone yanked my guts out and put them back in all the wrong places.”
Pax stares at me, then crosses the room, kneeling next to me with his hand on my back.
“You don’t mean that,” he says gently. “You were closed off before. I don’t know shit about women, but even I could see that. This is horrible, I know. But at least you’re feeling something. You know?”
I stare at him incredulously. “Seriously, Pax? I would rather feel nothing at all than like this.”
He nods. “I know. I’m sorry that I’m not good with this stuff. All I can tell you is that you should just concentrate on yourself right now. I’m pulling the funding for DefenseTech, so you won’t even have to hear his name. Just focus on yourself. Gabe’s got shit to take care of and it’s not your fault.”
“I know,” I tell him. “I know it’s not my fault. And you know what? You’re right. Instead of focusing on him, I’m going to concentrate on working on myself. Lord knows there’s a lot of work to be done.”
Pax smiles slowly. “Well, there’s not that much to do. You’re pretty great, Mad. He has no idea what he gave up.”
My eyes tear up again. “I don’t want to think about him anymore,” I whisper. “It’s too hard.”
Pax nods. “I know. I’m so sorry, Maddy. I honestly can’t imagine what happened. Gabe’s a stand-up guy. Trust me, I know assholes and he’s not one. I hope that he can get his shit straightened out.”
I nod silently. “That’s not really my problem now,” I finally answer.
“Whatever you say,” Pax replies as he stands up. “I just want to see you happy, Madison. You really do deserve it. You’ve taken care of Mila for so long and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that. But that’s my job now and you need to take care of you.”
“Thanks, Pax. Really. I mean it. I do love you, you know. I know you don’t like talking about mushy shit like this, so thank you.”
He grins. “Anytime. My advice isn’t always good, but it’s free.” At my quick look he adds, “But in this case it’s good.”
I roll my eyes as I stand up.
“I think I’ll run to the restaurant while Mila naps. I’ll be back with dinner.”
Pax holds out a fist for me to bump. “Awesome. Mila will thank you. She’s getting pretty damn tired of scrambled eggs, which is the only thing I can cook.”
I bump his fist limply and shake my head.
“It’s a good thing you’re pretty,” I tell him on my way out the door. I can hear him chuckling as I leave.
I don’t feel like joking. I honestly don’t. But maybe if I pretend that everything is normal, that everything is OK… maybe it will be.
Chapter Twenty
Gabriel
Fuck you, Gabe.
I stare at my phone, at the last words from Maddy.
My gut clenches with every word, more and more, over and over.
Fuck you, Gabe.
What the fuck did I do?
For two days I’ve been asking myself that question. And for two days I haven’t had a good answer. The only thing I know is that I can’t hurt Madison again and this was the only way I knew to protect her.
But God. God, it fucking sucks. All I want to do is pick up the phone and call her, to check on her… to explain.
You’re a fucking pussy.
Because I can’t. If I do, if I hear her voice, I might be tempted to forget all my misgivings and fears about hurting her and rush back to her. Not that she’d likely take me back at this point.
Fuck you, Gabe.
How I got myself into this situation, into a place where I love someone even though I know I can’t have her… it’s all my fault. I knew going in that I can’t ever be with anyone. That I’m not whole. That I’m not normal.
That I’m a monster.
That I’m the bad thing.
I knew all of this. And I chased her anyway… because I had to fuck her, I had to harness the storm that I knew she would be.
And now I love her and everything is fucked up.
I have no one to blame but myself.
With a sigh I return my attention to this fucking interview.
Brand set up some second interviews for an assistant, one who would be based here in De
nver since this is where the factory will be. He did the first interviews, so I have to do the second ones. It’s only fair.
But I overslept this morning and so I had to meet this morning’s candidate in my hotel room, rather than the café on the main floor.
As she talks to me, her words run together, her voice fades to the background, and I don’t really give a flying fuck what she’s talking about. My thoughts are in Angel Bay with a gorgeous blonde.
“So, that’s about it,” the girl, Alex, finishes up, smiling at me. “And I’m available to start immediately.”
Sitting on the edge of the bed, I smile absently as I glance at her résumé in my hand.
“OK. Well, I know Brand has already interviewed you, so we’ll talk and then one of us will get back to you.”
Alex smiles again from where she’s sitting at the table in my hotel room. She’s young and sort of pretty. Her eye makeup is thick and dark, slightly smeared at the corners. Her red lipstick is severe. As I watch, she crosses, then uncrosses her legs.
Hello, shaved pussy. I can’t believe my eyes. Did she just give me a shot of her crotch on purpose? What the hell?
“I really need this job,” she tells me, her voice turning husky and suggestive. “Is there anything I can do to get it?”
Boom. She did. Fucking hell. It’s like the universe is offering her to me, giving me an opportunity to take my mind off Madison.
Surely it won’t be that easy.
But Alex is getting up and moving toward me, her eyes on my lips.
“I can be very persuasive,” she whispers as she shoves me backward onto the bed, sliding her slim form between my legs.
“You definitely can,” I agree, automatically sliding my hands up her hips. “Did you try and persuade Brand like this?”
She giggles. “No. I didn’t need to. He told me that he likes me. If you like me, then I get the job.”
Hell.
My conscience disappears as the blood flow is redirected from one head to the other.
“Well, you’d better show me your qualifications.”
Alex bends her head, kissing me firmly. She tastes like chocolate. It’s foreign, but not unpleasant. I kiss her back.
“You know, you don’t have to do this,” I finally tell her, and I’m actually not sure if I’m telling her or myself.
“I want to,” she tells me. “Have you looked at yourself?”
So now she’s appealing to my ego too. Smart girl.
She reaches down and cups my dick, making it a perfect trifecta. Hormones, ego, dick. She’s got her bases covered. My body reacts like it always does. It gets hard.
I roll her over and cover her body with mine, sliding my hand up under her short skirt. I should’ve known something was up when she wore such a tiny skirt to an interview.
I get harder as I slip my fingers into her.
My thoughts cloud as I move toward an ending that I know will take me away from reality, from stress, from worrying about doing the right thing, from Madison.
When I do this, I don’t have to think.
I just have to feel.
It’s natural, instinctive.
Alex moans and I close my eyes. I don’t want to see her. I just want to feel her. I move my fingers inside her deeper, faster. And then I shove her skirt up higher, not bothering to take it off.
She fumbles to help me, saying my name. The breathy way she says it gives me pause and I open my eyes.
She’s splayed out on the rumpled hotel bed like an offering, her hair mussed.
The way she said my name reminded me of Madison.
I swallow hard, frozen above her, suspended.
“What?” she asks in confusion, opening her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
She doesn’t sound like Madison now. She doesn’t look like her, doesn’t smell like her. Because she’s not Madison.
She might not be Madison, but in my head that’s all I see. Maddy’s grin, her blue eyes, her gorgeous body. I picture the expression on her face when she was on my lap the other night, loving, soft, understanding.
Fuck you, Gabe.
I feel the pulse in my throat as I try to swallow around it. Maddy doesn’t want me. Not anymore and I can’t blame her. And if there’s one way to get one woman out of my head, surely it’s to fuck another one.
Someone who does want me.
I shake my head.
“Nothing’s wrong,” I finally lie.
I turn my attention back to Alex and run my fingers along her side, a side that is thicker than Maddy’s. I squeeze my eyes shut.
“I want it hard,” she moans. “Fuck me hard, Gabe.”
A sour taste pools in my mouth, but I ignore it as I drop my head and bury it in Alex’s neck and unfasten my shorts. She grips my shoulders tight, pulling me to her, burying her tongue in my mouth.
She doesn’t taste right.
She doesn’t smell right.
And my dick knows it because all of a sudden I’m not hard anymore.
I push against her again, but it’s no use. I’m not hard. I’m not going to get hard. Because all I can see in my head is Madison. I roll off and head to the shower without looking back.
I can hear Alex’s confused questions behind me, but I don’t care.
As the water rushes down over my head and shoulders, I crank the handle all the way over to cold.
Fuck.
I’m in seriously deep shit here.
A flash of Madison pops into my head again. Her blue eyes, soft and sincere. Her long slender legs wrapped around my hips.
You’re someone who won’t hurt me.
I practically groan. I have the feeling I could sleep with a thousand different women in a thousand different hollow fucks and I’d never be able to shake Maddy from my mind.
If I can fuck someone else, which is apparently questionable.
What is it about Madison that holds me so tight?
Everything.
I groan. Is it possible that I could be with her and not hurt her?
It’s a moot question since I’ve already left her. But it’s a question that I can’t quite shake.
The idea of that kind of intimacy sends my stomach up into my throat and I lean my head against the shower wall. That kind of intimacy is terrifying.
But all of a sudden, for reasons that I can’t understand and can’t explain, being without it is terrifying too.
* * *
After five days, I decide that I fucking hate Denver.
I fucking hate my life.
And I fucking hate myself.
I’m pretty sure all these feelings are very apparent to everyone around me because I’ve been a total dick.
Today, after meeting with the potential contractors at the new factory site, Alex and I came back to the table in my hotel room to look through their bids. But I don’t want to be here. There’s only one place I want to be and if I can’t be there, then fuck everyone.
I rub at my red eyes, trying to ignore the pounding in my head. The whiskey I’ve been using to try to fix my bad attitude has had the exact opposite effect. Hangovers fucking blow.
Alex hands me some ibuprofen. “Here. This will help.”
“Thanks,” I mutter, knocking four of them back with some water.
For some reason Alex is sticking close by, she gets here early and she stays late.
It’s like she took my inability to perform with her and my distance and my dickhead attitude as a personal challenge. I can’t figure it out, but then again, I can’t figure out women in general.
“How long do you think you’ll be here?” Alex asks absently, running her finger along my back. I instinctively move away. She’s been touching me at every opportunity, because she clearly believes that she’s irresistible. She has no idea how much it’s not working for me.
“I don’t know,” I answer. “As long as it takes to get everything set up, I guess.”
“I don’t want you to go,” Alex pouts, sticking her botto
m lip out. “I like having you here.”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. There’s no way she likes the way I am. I’m onto her. She just wants to sleep with the boss.
“Well, you knew that I wasn’t staying,” I remind her. “It’s the whole reason we needed to hire an assistant, so that you could handle day-to-day stuff for us when we’re not here.”
“I know,” she acknowledges. “But still.”
Still nothing.
I duck into the bathroom and when I come back out, Alex is standing in the middle of the room, completely nude.
“What the hell?” I mutter. Even though I don’t want her, I can’t exactly look away either. She’s naked, for God sake. She’s young and has perfect tits. Before I can even say anything, though, before I can tell her to put her clothes back on, there’s a knock on the door.
“I ordered room service,” Alex says helpfully.
“Well, obviously you should take your clothes off, then,” I mutter wryly. What the fuck? I shake my head and grab the bedspread from the bed, wrapping it around her as I head for the door. I open it without even looking and am surprised as hell to find Brand standing in front of me, filling up the doorway.
He takes in the scene quickly: at the assistant standing naked behind me, the bed rumpled and seemingly used. It’s pretty easy to jump to the wrong conclusion.
And he does.
“You didn’t,” Brand exclaims, barging on in. “Gabe, what the fuck, dude?”
“It’s not what it looks like,” I say by way of explanation. “And I thought you were still in Chicago.”
Brand turns to Alex. “Alex, hon, could you give us a minute?”
She scrambles to put her clothes on, while Brand looks away. “I’ll go down and get a coffee,” she says quickly, not looking back as she darts out the door.
Brand glares at me.
“What the fuck, Gabe?” He eyes the empty bottle of whiskey on the table. “Seriously? You’ve been holed up here in the hotel getting drunk and banging our new assistant?”
I glance at the empty bottle. “I’ve only been drinking at night,” I clarify. “And I’m not banging the assistant.”
Brand cocks his head and I can see why he doesn’t believe me, not that any of it matters.
“Whatever,” I mutter. “Think what you want.”
If You Leave: The Beautifully Broken Series: Book 2 Page 22