Mvp

by M. Robinson

  We sat there for an hour just shooting the shit. I was grateful that he was there; I needed to take my mind off Sebastian. Devon was always there for me, he was my go-to person and it meant everything to me that he still was. When I first opened up my bar, he came and stayed with me for a month to get things settled and showed me how to run the place. I didn’t even have to ask him, he offered. During that time, I opened up to him and finally told him everything; my mom, running away, VIP, The Madam, Sebastian, all of it.

  Granted, we were drunk when having this serious conversation…there was no way I would have been able to do it without liquid courage. He just sat there and listened, never judged, never asked any questions, nothing. He’d always been my shoulder to lean on, it didn’t matter what happened or would happen in my life, I knew I always had him. He’s known me since I was sixteen years old, and literally picked me off the street when I had no one, taking a chance on me when I never had that before. He was my best friend, a brother, and my only family outside of VIP. The first person I’d ever said “I love you” to and meant it.

  And that meant everything to me.

  Ysabelle is going to be the death of me.

  I couldn’t believe she just walked out on me like that. With no explanation, no excuse, no warning, just up and left after I poured my heart out to her. I’m trying to be honest and upfront with what I want…after all this time and everything we’ve gone through.

  I want her.

  For the first time in my life, I was thinking about what I wanted. Me. I’m fighting a battle that I didn’t know if I would ever win. I couldn’t lose her again; I wouldn’t survive it. It’s frustrating to no end to not have a clue as to where the fuck I stood, where the fuck we stood. One minute I felt like we were making progress, going in the right direction, and then the next, I didn’t recognize the woman standing before me.

  She lets me in and then shuts me out.

  She swallows me whole and then spits me right back out.

  Am I wanting too much too fast?

  We went almost two years without seeing or speaking to each other, isn’t that enough time for her to decide what she wanted? Did she not think about me at all during our time away from each other? How could she not?

  I thought about her every fucking day. I never stopped thinking about her.

  “Ethan!” I turned when I heard a yell from behind me. “You can’t run away from me like that, buddy.” Devon picked up his kid, dropping the duffle bag onto the sand.

  He nodded at me. “Hey, man,” he greeted, walking up to me.

  “Hey.”

  I had met Devon twice before, the first was at his bar with Ysabelle, on one of our first encounters, and the following time, I went to his bar to ask about her. If it weren’t for him, I probably would’ve never found her. I knew their history; Ysabelle had told me all about him. He took care of her when she had no one and for that, I’m eternally grateful to him.

  “How you been?” he asked.

  I sighed and he laughed.

  “Don’t you just love her?” he sarcastically questioned.

  “Mmm hmm…”

  “Where’s our trouble maker, anyway?”

  I nodded toward the stairs. “She’s upstairs.”

  “You guys okay?”

  “I hope so.”

  He placed his hand on my shoulder. “Hang in there, man. She’s worth it.”

  “Trust me, I know. She’s waiting for you,” I acknowledged.

  He geared his head toward the stairs. “You coming?”

  “Nah, you guys catch up.”

  Watching him with his son made me think about Christian. I missed him. He was growing up so fast and I didn’t want to be an absentee father, he was seven and before I knew it, he’d have his first girlfriend and be applying to colleges. I had to go back to Miami.

  I just hoped that Ysabelle would come with me.

  “So…spill it, what’s going on with you and Romeo downstairs? He looks like a

  kicked puppy. What did you do?”

  My mouth dropped open. “What makes you assume it’s me?”

  He raised an eyebrow and kissed Ethan’s head, leaving him to play with his Legos on the dining table. I scooted over when I realized he was coming to sit by me. We both tucked one leg under the other to face each other.

  “That man is devoted to you, Kid. You’d be a fool not to notice.”

  “I know.”

  “So…then what’s the problem?”

  I shrugged. I didn’t want to talk about it.

  “Okay, let me guess and stop me if I’m wrong.”

  I nodded, slightly amused.

  “From what I gathered over the rampage you had on the phone earlier, I’m assuming he wants a life with you. There’s nothing wrong with what he’s requesting, and to be completely honest, most women would be on their knees wagging their tails from the commitment.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Yes…I’m fully aware that you aren’t most women.”

  I smirked.

  “What are you so scared of? The Ysabelle I know looks at fear and laughs in its face, and then she goes back and gives it blue balls.”

  That won him a laugh. “Ugh! I’m not scared…I mean…I don’t know. I–” I stuttered. “I guess I didn’t expect this. I mean, I am devoted to him; I love him with everything I am. But sometimes, I feel like it’s overwhelming how much emotion is behind our relationship. Does that make any sense?”

  “Of course.”

  “We have this history that isn’t good, there’s so much hurt and pain from both ends. Mostly his, though…he’s the first person that ever hurt me, and I can’t help but feel responsible for that.”

  “What? Now you lost me.”

  “You know who I am, Devon, I’ve known you…what? Ten years now? It took me almost nine of them to finally let you in. I’m not made like that. But I let him in, wholeheartedly and pretty much immediately, and I got fucked in that; emotionally, mentally, physically, I was put through the ringer. And I just kept going right back for more…I was needy and pathetic. That’s not who I am and I pride myself on being strong and independent. I mean…look at everything I have. I. Did. That. With no help from anyone else.” I paused to gather my thoughts and take a deep breath for what I was about to say. “I’m terrified that if I become that person again, I won’t be able to find my way back to where I am right now. I’ve grown so much since I left VIP and I don’t want to ruin or jade that.”

  His eye widened and he nodded. “That’s some deep shit, Kid.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “However, what if it doesn’t?” he countered.

  “What do you mean?”

  “What if you do get the happily ever after? Men fuck up…we don’t understand women at all and pretend like we do. I can sympathize with him, and not that I’m trying to excuse what he did because it was wrong, but people make mistakes, it’s human nature. Men are selfish; we want what we want when we want it, plain and simple, black or white, all or nothing. There’s no grey area for us. You just have to decide what it is that you want.”

  “I want him,” I instinctually declared.

  He smiled. “Then that’s your answer.”

  I could hear them laughing from the stairs before I even made it to the third step. It was 11pm and I had been at the bar all day, thinking. I hadn’t seen or spoken to her since this morning. I can’t say that I wasn’t hurt by the fact that she hadn’t even texted me. I gave her space that I assumed she wanted and let her spend the day with him. It didn’t stop me from feeling…fuck…I don’t even know. Frustrated, maybe?

  I opened the door and what I saw nearly knocked me on my ass. Ysabelle was laying on the love seat with her head on Devon’s lap as he caressed her hair.

  What the fuck?

  They were laughing and didn’t even realize that I had walked into the room. There were two empty bottles of wine on the coffee table, and both of their glasses were nearly empty.
I couldn’t help but take in the familiarity of the way they looked at each other. When she stumbled on her words and his fingers grazed the side of her cheek, I nearly lost my shit.

  I slammed the door shut.

  They both jumped, looking over at me. “Heeeyyy,” she addressed with glossy eyes and flushed cheeks.

  She was drunk.

  “Hi?” I questioned.

  “Where have you been all day?”

  “Running your bar.”

  She lazily smiled, not picking up on my irritated tone.

  “Kid,” he chimed in, leaning her forward and putting her arm around his neck to help her up. “I think you need to go to bed.”

  I was over to them in three strides and shoved him in the chest. “I got her,” I warned and he nodded, releasing his hold on her.

  She leaned upward, placing her hand on his chest for balance and gazed at him. “I’m so happy you’re here. I missed you so much.” Her arms went around his neck, putting all her weight on him and his arms instinctively went around her. “I love you, Devon.”

  His eyes locked with my manic glare.

  “What would I do without you?” she whispered, loud enough for us both to hear and then kissed the side of his neck.

  Never tearing his neutral gaze from mine, he kissed the top of her head. “I love you, too,” he repeated.

  I roughly grabbed on to her arm and jerked her to me, cradling her like a baby and carrying her into our bedroom, kicking the door closed behind me.

  She inhaled my scent and half moaned “Sebastian” as I gently laid her on the bed and she spread out like a cat. I walked into the bathroom and grabbed three Ibuprofen from the cabinet.

  I reached for her and sat her up. “Ysa, you have to take this.”

  She half-opened her beautiful eyes and smiled at me. I never wanted to yell at her more than I wanted to in that moment. It wasn’t the time; I would have to wait. I placed the pills in her mouth and helped her take a sip from the bottled water that was on the nightstand. She was already half asleep when I started taking off her clothes. I left her in her panties and scooted her on her side of the bed, laying her on her pillow and covering her with the sheet. She groaned, displeased, and rolled over to my side, grabbing my pillow and sighing in contentment.

  I sat back on the armchair and rubbed my temples, in an effort to calm the migraine that was forming, to no avail. I watched her sleep for a few minutes before a sound from the living room reminded me of the reason she was in this state in the first place. I took one more look at her, kissed her on the forehead, and walked out into the living room. He was cleaning up their mess of alcohol and food and paused when he heard me close the bedroom door.

  “What the fuck are you still doing here?” I demanded, trying to keep my composure. I wanted nothing more than to beat the fuck out of him.

  Mine.

  He wiped his hands on the dishrag, threw it on the counter, and walked in my direction, stopping a few feet in front of me.

  “Ysabelle invited me. That’s why I’m here, and I’m not leaving until she tells me to go.” He shook his head. “I’m not leaving.”

  “Who the fuck do you think you are? You think I’m fucking stupid? You don’t think I see the way you look at her, how given the chance, you find a way to touch her?” I snickered and stepped in front of him until we were mere inches apart. “But guess what, motherfucker, she’s mine. And I will destroy anyone who tries to take her away from me. Do you understand? I get this nice guy act you have going on and I’m sure it gets you lots of pussy. I don’t give a flying fuck whom you are to her, you come in between us and I will take you the fuck out.” I roughly pushed him, but he didn’t lose his footing, he was expecting it.

  “Now, I’m going to ask you this one fucking time, and trust me, I’ll know if you’re lying.”

  He held his head higher, not cowering. I balled my fists.

  “Have you ever fucked her?”

  “No,” he responded with no hesitation.

  “Do you want to?”

  He paused. “No.”

  “Liar,” I stated through gritted teeth. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

  “It doesn’t matter…she loves you,” he informed, not missing a beat. “She spent the entire day talking about you. I’m here as her friend. I’ve been in her life longer than anyone, especially you. I’ve seen her at her worst and I’ve seen her at her best. But unlike you, I’ve never fucked her over. I know who you are, Sebastian. Don’t try to play the nobleman act with me. Now…let me remind you that just because I haven’t been inside her, doesn’t mean I don’t know her in more ways than you do.”

  My fist connected with his jaw before he even got the last word out. He stammered a little, but caught himself on the coffee table.

  I cocked my head to the side. “You want to try that again?” I threatened.

  He raised an eyebrow and rubbed at his jawline, backing away from me. I cracked my neck as soon as he left my sight, but he quickly reemerged with his duffle bag and his sleeping son in his arms.

  Fuck.

  I immediately felt like a bastard, I completely forgot about the kid.

  “Let Ysabelle know that something came up and I had to go back to Miami. I’ll call her tomorrow afternoon,” he informed and left.

  And that was that…

  There was nothing left to say.

  My head was pounding.

  I covered my eyes from the sunlight. It was too fucking bright.

  “How you feeling?”

  Of course, he was watching me sleep.

  “I’m hurting.”

  “I bet. Sit up,” he ordered.

  I slowly peeled my eyes open, one at a time. Sebastian was holding a glass of ice water and buttered toast. I sluggishly sat up, pulling the sheet with me and leaned against my headboard, grabbing the water and gulping it.

  “Here,” he said, handing me Ibuprofen.

  “Oh, I love you; you’re so good to me,” I responded, smiling.

  He half-smiled at me, as I took a bite of toast.

  “Where’s Devon?”

  “He said something came up in Miami and he had to leave.”

  “What? Is everything okay?”

  He shrugged. “I guess, I didn’t really talk to him. How much do you remember from yesterday?”

  “Oh…” I hesitated. “Ummm…things start getting a little hazy after we opened the second bottle of wine. Was I a shit show?”

  He chuckled. “I’ve seen worse. You definitely couldn’t fend for yourself. I put you to bed, though.”

  “When did Devon leave?”

  “After you passed out.”

  “Oh. I hope he’s okay. You guys didn’t get a chance to hang?”

  He shook his head no. “I barely talked to him. He just said he had to leave and that he’d call you later.”

  “Okay. I think we should do a cuddle day. Watch movies in bed and eat junk food. I don’t feel good.”

  “Ysa…” he said in a serious tone.

  Damn it. “I know, Sebastian. I’m sorry about yesterday.”

  “We need to talk about it.”

  I nodded. I didn’t really want to have a serious conversation while feeling like shit, but I knew better than to say that out loud. He deserved an explanation.

  “You can’t keep running away from me like that.”

  “I know.”

  “You know where I stand and sometimes I think I know where you do, but then something like yesterday happens and I’m back to square one again. I love you. I know what I want and it’s you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  He smiled. “You have to talk to me, Ysa. You have to tell me what you’re feeling because I can’t help you if I don’t know. I’m not a mind reader.”

  “It’s hard for me.”

  “I know, but what do you want?”

  “You,” I simply stated. “I talked to Devon and it really helped.”

  He sighed. “I need
and want you to talk to me.”

  “I know. I promise, I’ll try. It’s just that Devon has always be–”

  “I don’t want to talk about Devon, Ysabelle,” he abruptly interrupted. “I want to talk about us, me and you. That’s all that matters, no one else,” he added.

  “I understand.”

  He leaned forward and kissed my forehead and then the tip of my nose, before resting his forehead on mine. “Will you come back to Miami with me? It would mean everything to me to have you by my side. I need you.”

  I would do this for him.

  For us.

  I took a deep breath.

  “Yes.”

  A few days later, I bought the plane tickets, first class. Ysabelle was insistent on that, she said something about hating to fly, and sitting too close to a person she didn’t know gave her anxiety. I didn’t care if I had to rent a fucking private plane if that’s what it took to get her to go with me. Three weeks later and we left the next morning. I rented us a suite on South Beach for a week; it would give us time to get everything in order without having to rush. Luke, Ysabelle’s GM, was going to be watching the bar and Chance while we were gone. It was the first time she would be leaving the bar for that extended amount of time, but I knew that wasn’t what was bothering her.

  I could tell she had reservations, but didn’t express them to me. I didn’t push her for any information; she was coming back with me and I knew that was huge for her. Not to take into account everything else that went along with it, I couldn’t fault her for being overwhelmed; it was a lot. And as much as I wanted her to open up to me and tell me everything she was feeling, and that we would work it out together, I knew that would only add fuel to her already lit fire. She was coming back with me and that was good enough for me.

  For now.

  “You almost done packing?” I asked, walking into the bedroom.

  Her luggage was on the floor and she had piles of clothes scattered on the bed; she had been packing all morning. Let me rephrase that…she would pack, and then unpack, and then start all over again. The nervousness she displayed was adorable.

  “I’m getting there,” she sighed. “I left all my stuff at my condo when I left Miami and the stuff I own now is not…Miami…” she reasoned.