Counting On You

by J. C. Reed

  “Nothing that is real or lasting. It’s something that passed the moment I decided to move on. That’s why I know you don’t love Bruce. When I look at you, I see myself many years ago. I see you making the same mistakes I made. And that’s why I’m so angry, Vicky. Not at you, but at him.” My finger settles beneath her chin, raising it a little until I’m sure I have her full attention. “You might think you love him, that this is some rough patch that will pass and he’ll come around. But make no mistake, he knows what he’s doing, just like my ex knew what she was doing when she cheated with my best friend. So, no, true love doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t break you. It’s all too easy to mistake obsession for love. Once you step over the brink and leave that insanity behind, you’ll realize there’s no good reason why you’d want to suck it up. There’s no good reason why you’d want to keep making excuses for someone who’s not worthy of them.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Vicky

  I wake up to the merciless rays of the sun spilling through the window. Groaning, I cover my eyes with my pillow to get a few more seconds of sleep. My head is pounding like a sledgehammer has been hard at work. My pulse is thudding against my temples. Nausea has settled in my stomach, warning me that I need to get to the bathroom, but I’m too tired to leave the comfort of my bed. Flipping onto my side, I pull the sheets up to my chin when a cold breeze reaches me and I realize—

  I’m naked.

  I jolt upright and press the sheets to my chest.

  Why, for crying out loud, am I butt naked?

  Fighting against the sun blinding me, I scan the room. The window is on the wrong side. The desk seems misplaced. A black jacket is draped over the back of the chair, and clothes are scattered across the floor.

  Why does the air smell like him? His aftershave—the scent I’ve grown to seek out whenever I use our shared bathroom.

  That’s when it hits me.

  I’m in Kade’s room.

  My gaze roves wildly over everything, searching for some sign that this isn’t happening.

  What am I doing in Kade’s room? But even as I ask myself the question, fragments of memories come to me. They are blurry, disjointed, but they all seem to circle around one thing: our night together.

  I can’t believe I asked him to fuck me.

  “Oh, my God.” I bury my head in my hands for a long moment, then wrap the sheets around my body, ready to storm out when I realize there’s no way in hell I’m leaving my clothes behind.

  As I push up to my feet, the room begins to spin. I wait a few seconds and then try again. There’s no sign of Kade, no sign of my clothes. Maybe I left them in the living room. I head for the door when I stumble over something hard and almost take a tumble.

  My heart gives a little jolt as I realize what it is.

  It’s Kade, sleeping on the floor, a blanket spread out, and oh, my God, he’s naked, too.

  A little yelp escapes my lips as my hands spread to halt my fall, but my equilibrium is way off. I tumble on top of him.

  “Please don’t tell me you want it again,” he mumbles, his eyes closed.

  Again?

  My whole body heats up as I scramble to my feet, desperately trying to cover up with whatever I can find. My hands tug at the sheet, but as I pull it up, I also grab his sheet, exposing his body.

  All the parts that count.

  It’s really one huge cock. And there’s a real chance it’s already been inside me.

  “You didn’t answer my question.” He opens his eyes groggily, his lips twitching as he catches my glance. I drop his sheet and busy myself with covering his modesty.

  “Did we…” I swallow hard, unable to speak out the unthinkable.

  “What?” His brows shoot up in mock confusion.

  He knows exactly what I’m talking about. He just wants to hear me say it.

  “You know what.” I gesture between us, fighting hard not to gawk at the huge bulge forming beneath the sheet. Fuck, I can’t even say the word now that I’ve seen it again in all its glory.

  He cocks his head. “Did we fuck? Is that what you want to know?” I nod my head. “You can’t remember? Nothing? Not at all?”

  I shake my head as my cheeks begin to catch fire.

  Oh, my God.

  Please don’t tell me I slept with him.

  His voice draws me back. “Relax. We haven’t.”

  “Then why are we both naked?”

  “I don’t know about you, but I always sleep naked.” His lips twitch.

  “I don’t.” I stare at him, confused. “Why did I take off my clothes?”

  “Because you stripped…a little. Mentioned it was too hot and that you had to remove your dress and underwear.”

  I stare at him. That’s not me. I never do stuff like that.

  “Why am I in your room?”

  “You didn’t want to sleep alone. You said you were scared, so I offered you my bed.” My jaw drops. The skin around his eyes crinkle, and I realize he looks so damn delicious in the morning, I feel the slightest bit of regret that we didn’t do the deed.

  “What was I supposed to do?” Kade asks.

  “Say no?”

  He lets out a laugh. “Do you have any idea how often I had to say no last night? Damn, woman, you’re the most stubborn person I’ve ever met. I was about to give in when you finally passed out. Thank God for that.”

  He can’t be serious.

  “So, you just let me sleep in your bed while you chose the floor?” If what he says is true, I can’t help but feel offended that he felt the need to reject me so many times.

  “What was I supposed to do? Throw you out of my bed? You invited yourself in, and before I could stop it, you fell asleep.”

  I cock my head, a part of me wanting him to lie. But his expression is honest. Even his smile is gone.

  “So, nothing happened?” I ask again.

  “No.”

  I bury my face in my hands. “God. I must have looked like a complete fool.”

  “It wasn’t that bad.” I look at him and find him smiling again. “Just do me a favor and never drink vodka again. You were lucky nobody heard the ruckus you caused outside when I had to carry you inside. You put up quite the fight.”

  “Sorry.” Cringing, I try to fathom when it all started to go so wrong last night. Then I remember the Facebook account: Bruce and the picture of him and his ex.

  “How are you?” Kade asks softly.

  “The term train wreck jumps to mind.” I smirk. “I just want to cut off my head.”

  He lets out a laugh. “Go take a shower while I’m getting us breakfast.”

  Even though I shouldn’t, I stare at his naked butt as he grabs his clothes and strolls out of the room.

  Damn! He looks hot. Muscular, but not too much.

  Before he closes the door, he turns and winks, catching me staring a little too intently.

  My face catches fire, but I don’t avert my gaze.

  I embarrassed myself so much last night, what’s a little more, right?

  I don’t know why, but I like Kade.

  He’s the first guy I feel like I can fully confide in. And he’s hot.

  Damn.

  He’s really hot.

  Like cover of a magazine, Photoshopped hot.

  He’s sitting in front of me, half-naked, his upper body exposed. I can see the tattoo on his shoulder, snaking down, and can’t help but wonder what the design means.

  “You’re staring at me,” he says, raking his hand through his hair, as though I’m making him nervous.

  “Sorry.” I peel my gaze off of him. “I still feel like a fool. I’m so sorry about last night.”

  “Stop apologizing. We had a lot of fun. That’s important.” I smirk. He catches my glance and laughs. “Not that kind of fun. But fun, nonetheless.” He points to my plate. “How are the eggs?”

  I stare at the fried mess he calls breakfast. “Good.” Fidgeting in my seat, I take another bite of my omelet, pondering
how to put it so his feelings won’t get hurt. “A bit salty, maybe.”

  “I have a confession to make. I didn’t really make this.”

  “I reckoned that much. We don’t have eggs in the fridge.”

  “While you were in the shower, I dashed down to the cafeteria and scraped together all the leftovers I could get,” he says just as I’m about to stuff another forkful into my mouth. “How bad are they?”

  “Disgusting?” I peer at the fork, unsure whether to eat the stuff or go hungry until lunch.

  “You know…” He lifts his fork and helps himself to the remnants on my plate, then grimaces. “One day I’m going to learn how to cook.” His chocolate eyes meet mine.

  “Maybe for the right woman?” I laugh at his expression. “This is really disgusting, but thank you anyway.”

  “No need.”

  As we eat, the sudden silence makes me aware just how comfortable I feel around him. I haven’t even thought of Bruce yet. I still have the phone, but the thought of checking up on him hasn’t even occurred to me today.

  “How can I repay you, Kade?”

  “By having coffee with me?” He pushes a mug of some milky concoction toward me.

  “You know what I mean.” I lean back and brush my hair out of my face. “This place sucks. I don’t think anyone wants to be here. You took a risk by inviting me along even though you didn’t have to. You don’t even know me.”

  He shrugs his shoulders. “I like your company. You’re fun.”

  “You mean fun as in acting like an idiot.”

  “It wasn’t that bad,” Kade says. “The way I saw it, I could leave you behind and risk you exposing my temporary escape. Or drag you along and be partners in crime.”

  I smile at him. “I really enjoyed our night out even if I don’t remember a great deal of it.”

  “We don’t need to keep it at just one. We can sneak out whenever we want.”

  “You want to go out again?” Even though my head’s still spinning a bit and my stomach isn’t quite ready yet to digest solid food, I find the idea appealing.

  “Sure. You don’t?”

  I let the thought sink in for a moment. “What if someone sees us?”

  “Won’t happen because we’ll be even more careful.” His eyes soften. “The next time you’re upset and you feel like hitting the bottle, I want you to tell me. Do you think you can do that?”

  “I’ll try,” I mumble. Telling him, that is. The controlling my alcohol intake part won’t be too difficult because I hardly ever drink.

  He stands and begins to busy himself with clearing the table. As he turns around, I get a few more seconds to look at him. There is another tattoo on his back, spreading across his upper back almost like wings.

  “Still staring.” He turns around and refills his mug, then mine.

  “Not really,” I lie. “I was just wondering what your tattoos mean. I’ve never seen something like it before.”

  “This one?” He points at his upper arm. “It represents the countless times I made mistakes. Patterns tend to repeat themselves. To break a habit, you need to step out of the picture and listen to what others have to say, even if you don’t want to hear it.”

  “That’s one long-winded explanation.” I frown. “Are you making it up as you go along?”

  He laughs. “You caught me. In all honesty, it represents all the crossroads I’ve been at in my life and the times I had to cut ties to achieve something.”

  I think I’m beginning to understand him and his motivations. With Kade, it’s all about change. “Like the ex you told me about?”

  He looks at me, interest striking his face. “Out of all the things you could have remembered, that’s the one you chose to retain?”

  He’s so right about that. “You said I’d forget, and I just couldn’t let you be right.”

  He sits back down opposite from me, and stretches out his long legs, nudging my foot. “What about you? Do you have any tattoos?”

  His eyes brush the front of my top, lingering on my breasts. “You tell me. You’ve already seen me naked.”

  “I didn’t look.”

  My lips twitch. I don’t believe him. “Not once?”

  He shakes his head, his eyes feign innocence. “Nope.”

  “You expect me, in all honesty, to believe that you didn’t look?”

  “I swear.” He crosses his fingers in front of my face. “On my Scout’s honor, I promise that’s the truth. I didn’t look at you while you were naked.” He lifts his mug to his lips, eyeing me with an amused grin.

  “You were a Boy Scout?”

  “Yeah.” He laughs. “If you want, I can show you some cool things.”

  I narrow my eyes, not trusting him one bit when he smiles that lopsided grin of his. “Like what?”

  “Like how to build a tree house.”

  “Here?”

  “On the island, yeah. Obviously we’ll have to go with a miniature version of it.”

  I shake my head, both to signal that I’m not interested and also because I realize his words have stuck with me and I’m pissed.

  “You didn’t look?” I ask.

  “I didn’t take advantage of your drunken state,” Kade says, misinterpreting my sudden irritation.

  “Why didn’t you?” I hold his gaze.

  “Because you deserve someone who cares about you. That’s why,” he says matter-of-factly. “I’d feel like I violated your privacy, and to be honest, I don’t want to jeopardize our relationship.”

  “Our relationship?”

  “Yeah,” he replies, cocking his left eyebrow. “The relationship between two friends.”

  Right.

  What the hell did I hope to hear?

  “You know, this place isn’t so bad once you get the hang of it,” he continues. “Join the group session today.”

  I don’t know what to say to that. I can’t just tell a bunch of strangers my most intimate thoughts. “How do you know I haven’t been there?” I ask.

  “I don’t ever see you.” He regards me intently. “You know there are mixed sessions, right?”

  “Is it working for you?”

  “I don’t think anything’s working here.” He winks. “But when I listen to other stories, it actually makes me feel better knowing I’m not going through their shit. So, in some way, you can say that I’m relishing in the fact that others have it worse.”

  I laugh. “You’re so bad.”

  “I know, right? Join me, Vicky. You’ll have so much fun. It’s one big soap opera after another,” he says. “There’s this girl who’s in love with someone she’s never seen, never spoken to. And, get this. She hasn’t even seen his photo, meaning she doesn’t know who she’s been chatting with. But she’s convinced that she’s in love.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  He raises his eyebrows and gives me a deadpan face. “Why don’t you join us and see for yourself? This is real-life stuff. Even better than Catfish.”

  I stare at him. “Catfish? Seriously? You watch the show?”

  “Is that so hard to believe?” He smiles and his eyes flicker with something. “We have a lot in common, don’t we?”

  His words catch me off-guard.

  “Yeah, I guess we do,” I say softly. My feel-good bubble is slowly bursting as something dawns on me. “How late is it?”

  He glances at his watch. “Past eleven.”

  I’m so late.

  The last time I checked, it was shortly before nine. I realize we’ve been together for more than twelve hours.

  How did my time with Kade fly so fast and I didn’t even notice?

  “I’ve got to go.” I jump to my feet and run out the door before he can say anything.

  Chapter Twenty

  Kaiden

  Three things I’ve learned about my new roommate the past few days:

  * * *

  She’s hot.

  I have to fuck her.

  She’s going to be the deat
h of my cock. I know it with the certainty some people know that it’s going to rain, which brings me back to point number two: I have to fuck her and get her out of my system.

  * * *

  Ever since meeting her, I can’t seem to stop thinking about fucking her. But just thinking about it is no longer enough. At night, I’m lying awake, knowing full well that my honorable commitment of not fucking her when I had the chance will keep coming back to haunt me.

  I know I could get her drunk again, wind her up by talking about Bruce, and then let that asshole boyfriend of hers do the rest of the work. But there’s one tiny problem.

  I do like her.

  I really like her.

  Maybe a bit more than I should.

  When I set up the 365-day, non-stop sex calendar, I had one rule:

  Not to fuck someone I care about.

  I never wanted to let a woman get close to me, and yet I’ve encouraged Vicky to tell me so much about her life that I feel like I know her.

  I’ve told her secrets about myself. And now she knows me.

  We’ve gotten close without even having sex.

  Vicky Sullivan is a strange girl with even stranger manners and the strangest mind. She’s like a caterpillar, both fragile and beautiful to look at.

  She’s sitting opposite me, her face turned to me as we’ve been listening to the stories around us. She’s next in line.

  I’m holding my breath, waiting for her words to spill out; for the transformation to come through, knowing that it doesn’t take much for her to wrap herself in a cocoon and bounce hard with fragile wings against the hard shell that is her reality.

  But she remains evasive. Almost indifferent.

  Her arms are crossed over her chest, her face absent. Her whole posture screams ‘I don’t care what you think of me,’ except she hasn’t even uttered her boyfriend’s name.

  “Vicky, how would you feel if—” Mary, our counselor, lowers her gaze quickly to search through her notes, “—Bruce were dating someone other than you?”

  The entire group’s staring at Vicky, giving her their full attention. It’s Vicky’s third group meeting, and my ninth.