“I think we both are,” I told him.
Shaking his head, he said, “Let’s start this over…I’m really worried about you.”
“Don’t be. Honestly.” I pulled my hair back into a ponytail and secured it with a hair tie.
“I can’t not be,” he insisted, still blocking my exit. He was persistent and I wasn’t going to leave this room until he was done talking. I sighed, hoping he would stop talking soon. I wanted to get to work and return to normal—well, as normal as my life could be.
I forced a smile and prayed that if I played nice this conversation might end. “I’m sure between you and Memphis I won’t be able to do anything stupid. Not that I’m planning to. I know I owe you all an explanation,” I nibbled my bottom lip nervously, fuck I hated getting personal with people and showing vulnerability, “but I can’t right now. Just know, I had my reasons for doing what I did. It wasn’t a decision I took lightly. But fate,” I tossed the word he so often used back in his face, “had other plans and here I am now.” I spread my arms wide. “Looks like you’re all stuck with my bitchy and sarcastic self for a while longer.”
He chucked and reached out to wrap one arm around my shoulders.
“We’re not stuck with you. In fact,” he grinned as he ruffled my hair, messing up the ponytail, “we all kind of like you.”
⌘⌘⌘
I wasn’t surprised when Memphis showed up at the end of my shift to walk me home.
Emery grinned widely at seeing us leave together. Creeper.
“You really don’t need to do this.” I told Memphis once we were on the street outside. My breath fogged the chilly January air and I pulled my gloves from the pocket of my coat and put them on. The cold air felt good to my heated skin but I didn’t want to get sick.
Memphis reached up and adjusted the beanie he wore. “I know, but I want to.” Looking at me significantly, he added, “I never do anything unless I want to.”
My breath left my body with a shaky rhythm. “I don’t understand why you’re still here,” I shook my head and looked at the sidewalk below my feet. I watched him from the corner of my eyes, and added, “I’m not very nice to you.”
He laughed at that. “No, you’re not, but I’ve learned some things are worth fighting for.” He stopped on the sidewalk and grabbed my hand so that I was forced to halt. With his other hand he reached up to tenderly cup my cheek. Despite the cold temperature his touch was warm. I found my eyes drifting closed as my body relaxed against his touch. While from the moment I met him my brain and heart had fought against what I felt for him I could never seem to control my body. I hadn’t given Memphis a fair shot. I’d been to enamored by the mystery that lurked across the hallway in the form of a tortured artist.
“Don’t push me,” I gasped, “I’m not ready.” My heart wasn’t ready to love again—it was far too soon—but that didn’t stop my body from curling into his. I’d argued with him non-stop for weeks, because I wanted him to leave. I never told him, but the real reason I wanted him to leave wasn’t because his presence was unwelcome. It was because it felt right. More right than Caelan had, and that scared me something fierce. I didn’t know how to handle these feelings. It seemed unfair to fall for someone else when I’d loved Caelan so fiercely, but I couldn’t be alone forever. I did need time to heal, though. Maybe one day I’d be strong enough to be the woman Memphis saw, but I wasn’t there yet.
“I know you’re not,” he forced my chin up so that I couldn’t look away from his searing gaze. “I won’t push you for more. I may hope, but if you never feel anything for me it’s okay.”
My heart wrenched painfully at the sincerity in his gaze and tone. Memphis was a good guy. I’d never been with a good guy before. Even my ex, Brandon, had been one of the bad ones—always taking his temper out on me with his fists. Back then, though, I’d craved that. I felt the need to be punished, because Marcus had managed to delude me into believing what he did to me was my fault. Guys like him were cunning and they knew how to get inside your head and mess with your thoughts. He’d fucked me up.
“Can I hug you?” I whispered. I was suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to be held—nothing more—and Memphis made me feel safe.
He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. He held his arms out at his side and I dove in to his chest. His cologne, something woodsy and sweet, clung to his coat. My arms wrapped around his lean body. He was taller and more muscular than Caelan had been and it felt strange for a moment to hug him, but then I relaxed into it. His arms wound around my body and he brushed his lips against the top of my head. “It’s going to be okay.”
⌘⌘⌘
Caelan
I sat across from Alex, not saying a word. If he thought he was going to get me to talk about my past and feelings and shit then he was out of his mind
“I don’t understand the purpose of this,” I said, my voice a growl. “I thought this was rehab—as in, get me sober—not a fucking psych evaluation?”
“You’re a very angry young man,” Alex remarked. “Why do you think that is?”
I shook my head roughly. “No, no, no, no, no,” I chanted. “Do not answer a question with a question.”
Alex sighed heavily and adjusted the glasses he wore. “I can see you’re going to be one of the most difficult patients I’ve ever had. Lucky for you, or maybe not so lucky depending on your perspective, I love a challenge.”
“Seriously,” I muttered, “I don’t understand why this is necessary. I’m here to get clean, not hold hands and talk about my feelings.”
Alex sighed and fisted his dark hair between his fingers. He was clearly frustrated with me. Good.
“You and I both know why you need this,” he remarked and my eyes widened. “Don’t act so surprised. I do find out what I can about my patients. You see, an addict doesn’t become one because they want to. Who wakes up and says, ‘Today I want to throw my life away?’ No one, that’s who. Something has to trigger the need for such dangerous substances. True, some people grow up watching their parents do it and follow suit. Or they grow up where drugs are more prevalent than candy. But most people,” he pointed at me, “have been through something traumatic and they see it as a way of escaping. Guess what?” He eyed me. “You’re not. You’re only adding to your problems.”
I rolled my eyes and proceeded to slow clap. “Did they give you that diploma there for saying the most ridiculous things?” I pointed to the document in the fancy frame that hung on the wall behind his desk.
“No,” he shook his head and I swore his lips twitched as if he fought a smile. “I earned that after I got clean and decided I’d spend my life helping the very people that I once was. But you know something, Caelan?”
“What?” I asked when he didn’t continue.
“We’ll always be addicts. There will always be a fight and a struggle not to go back down that road.” He sat back and began rolling up one of the long sleeves of the button down he wore. He stretched his arm out in front of me. “See these?” He asked, pointing to the scars that adorned the veins of his arms. “They’re a constant reminder of the life I used to lead. These scars won’t go away, just like the ones inside you can’t see. But guess what, with my help and the others here you can learn to move past those negative thoughts whenever you have them,” he rolled his sleeve back down. “There will be good days and bad days—but if you work hard enough, one day those bad days won’t seem so…well, bad. You have to find something you love to grasp onto to carry you through the darkness. It doesn’t have to be a person, maybe a hobby,” he said, and instantly I thought of my art. “I want you to decide on a goal for yourself. That will be what you work towards. Strive to be something.”
I let his words sink in, mulling them over.
Alex looked at his watch and said, “Your session is almost over. But before you go, I want you to look at this.” He grabbed a picture frame off his desk and handed it to me. He tapped the top of it and said, “Getting better is a str
uggle, but it’s worth it. Don’t you want this for yourself?” He asked.
I stared at the picture of him, his wife, and two kids who were obviously his children. They were all smiling and happy. Alex held his youngest son in his arms and both wore beaming smiles.
Family.
“I do.”
CHAPTER 29
Sutton
“Did Memphis move in here or something?” Were the first words out of Daphne’s mouth when she entered my apartment.
“I’m happy to see you too,” I laughed.
“Answer the question,” she demanded as she looked around at all his stuff strewn everywhere.
“Well, if you’re really wanting to know if I’ve asked him to stay, the answer is a big fat no. He kind of never left,” I shrugged simply, picking up my evening cup of coffee. People that said coffee was bad for you were liars. I drank at least three cups a day and I was perfectly normal…well, almost. My nose crinkled at the smell of it. It seemed off. It hadn’t smelled like that when I had some earlier. “Does this smell weird to you?” I asked Daphne and held the cup out towards her.
She sniffed it and looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “It smells like coffee.”
I smelled it again and my stomach rolled. I put the cup down on the counter and stepped away from it. “I must be getting sick,” I mumbled. Now that I thought about it, I had felt fatigued the past week and slightly dizzy several times.
“How are you holding up?” Daphne asked as she sat on the couch. Man, she always knew how to make herself at home.
I knew she wasn’t asking me about my attempted suicide and instead about the break up. I sighed and sat down on the floor, crossing my legs. I picked up a candy wrapper—Memphis was always sucking on Jolly Ranchers—and crinkled it between my fingers.
I pondered her question. “Okay, I guess. It’s been weeks and I haven’t heard from him. I didn’t think I would, but still…I’d like to know he’s okay. I can’t make myself stop loving him or caring about what happens to him.”
“I’m so sorry, Sutton,” she frowned.
“It is what is,” I mumbled and that was the truth. “I tried to call him, even though he told me not to, but his cellphone has been cut off.” I wasn’t sure if I should admit what I did next, but thought what the heck, and told her. “I wrote him a letter. I haven’t mailed it yet. I don’t know if I should.”
“How medieval of you,” she joked. Sobering, she added, “I think you should. Even if you never get back together I think you deserve closure. Don’t you? What’s the harm in sending it?”
She was right. “I think I will.”
“So, when are you kicking Memphis out?” She giggled and picked one of his socks off the couch, wrinkling her nose.
“Uh…don’t you think I’ve tried that? He’s more stubborn than me and that’s saying something,” I laughed. God, it felt good to laugh. “He won’t leave.”
Dropping the sock on the floor, she said, “He might be messy but at least he’s hot.”
That was true. Just because I wasn’t ready for a relationship didn’t mean I was blind.
“Did you just come over here to grill me on Memphis and the catastrophe that is my love life?”
Brutus settled in my lap and began to purr.
“Of course not. I ordered pizza and we’re going to binge watch Supernatural,” she clapped her hands together excitedly.
“My life is so exciting,” I mumbled.
“Hey,” she frowned, “The Winchester brothers are sexy, so this is exciting.”
I snorted. “You need to get out more.”
She narrowed her eyes and opened her mouth to say something but fell quiet when there was a knock on the door.
Just like every time I heard a knock, my heart leapt in the hopes that it was Caelan. But then I’d soon remember that he was gone and it would fall once more.
“Oooh! That’s the pizza!” Daphne clambered off the couch and rushed towards the door. After signing the receipt she shut the door with her hip. “I’m so hungry and this smells so good.”
It did smell good. My stomach rumbled at the smell of it. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was before. I grabbed plates and we settled on the couch to eat and watch TV.
After hours of watching Supernatural I said goodbye to her.
I picked up the letter I’d written days ago and began to read it over.
Dear Caelan,
First off, it seems really weird to send you a letter. I tried to call you and your phone was cut off, so I thought I’d sit down and write this. Although, now that I’m doing it, I feel strange about it. I’m not sure if you even want to hear from me again. I need to do this for myself though. I’m happy you’re getting help and I understand why you ended things. That doesn’t stop it from hurting though. I want you to know that I’m not angry. Love is crazy and ours was one of the craziest—but that kind of love can be dangerous. I hope that when you’re out and come home that I’ll get to talk to you in person. I don’t want us to become strangers.
I’m not sure if you’re allowed to write back, and even if you are and you don’t want to, that’s okay. I needed to get this off my chest.
I live for you Caelan Gregory. Even if we’re not together, that statement will always be true.
Thank you for giving me your love, even if I wish I could’ve held onto it for much longer.
Love,
Sutton
I folded the letter and slipped it into an envelope. I didn’t have the address for the rehab he was at, so I sent Kyle a text and asked for it.
I didn’t work tonight and Memphis would be home in about an hour. He’d been here so long now, that I wasn’t sure what I’d do when he left. It was actually nice having the company and not being alone all the time.
Deciding to be nice, since I constantly gave him a hard time, I made a fancy pasta dish. The scent of garlic and parmesan cheese permeated the air. I wasn’t hungry after eating pizza, but I knew Memphis would appreciate the gesture.
I was stirring everything together when he walked through the door.
“Mmm, something smells delicious,” he rubbed his stomach.
My smile was small. “I thought I’d make you something. It’s the least I could do.”
“Well, thank you.” His grin was wide, showcasing his adorable dimples. “I’m going to get a shower first.”
I nodded and set about putting the pasta in a bowl. I even poured him a glass of wine. I truly felt bad for acting like a bitch to him most of the time. I knew he was only doing what he thought was right and I appreciated it.
I set everything down on the raised countertop, including a napkin and utensils.
A few minutes later I heard the bathroom door creak open. I looked up from my spot on the couch where I’d sat down to read a little bit. My mouth fell open and a small gasp escaped me. I couldn’t help it. Memphis stood there in nothing but a towel hanging low on his waist. Water droplets clung to his muscular chest and his copper colored hair was darker than normal as it shined with wetness. I licked my lips—my throat suddenly dry.
He smiled sheepishly and I swore there was a slight blush staining his cheeks.
“I—uh—forgot clean clothes,” he mumbled, unable to make eye contact with me as he rifled through his bag.
I was a horrible person, because I sat there willing the towel to drop.
Snap out of it, Sutton! I scolded myself, but it did no good. I couldn’t look away.
The bathroom door closed behind him and I was able to breathe again.
Jesus, he was gorgeous. I might not be looking for a relationship but I couldn’t deny his hotness.
I think I needed another shower.
A very cold, very long shower.
Dressed, and clearly still embarrassed, he made his way over to the counter with his head bowed.
I felt like something had shifted in our relationship—there was no denying the mutual attraction now.
“There’s only one
bowl,” he commented, turning to look at me over his shoulder.
I nodded, tucking a stray hair behind my ear. “I ate pizza with Daphne.” With a playful smile I added, “Feel free to ask her if you don’t believe me.”
He chuckled but said nothing. He picked up the bowl and glass of wine. He sat down beside me on the couch and smiled crookedly. “It was lonely over there, so I thought I’d sit here where I’d have the company of the most beautiful woman in the world.”
I laughed at that comment. “You’re full of it.” I turned the TV off and settled in for some conversation. “How was work?”
He chuckled, taking his first bite of pasta. “It’s bartending, so it’s always eventful.”
“Did you always want to be a bartender?” I asked.
He watched me from the corner of his eye. “Why so many questions?”
I shrugged casually. “Just trying to get to know you.”
“I went to culinary school,” he muttered. My eyes widened in shock. “My dream is to own a restaurant one day. Until that day comes, I’ll continue to bartend. I don’t hate it, but it’s not what I love.”
“Your own restaurant,” I gasped, mulling it over. Memphis was determined and a natural leader, so I could see him having success with it. “I think that would be so cool.”
“Really?” He asked. “My dad always thought it was stupid. He thought I should do something more manly.”
I laughed at that. “I think owning your own business is a big responsibility. Besides, what’s so wrong with doing what you love?”
“What about you?” He questioned. “Surely you have bigger dreams than working at Griffin’s?”
I swallowed thickly. “I have a business degree, but I honestly have no idea what I want to do. I know at my age I should have it figured out, but I don’t.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” he took another bite of food.
Frowning, I asked, “How bad is it? Now that I know you went to culinary school I’m never cooking ever again.”
He laughed at that—the kind of laugh that shakes your whole body. “It’s delicious.”
Beauty in the Ashes Page 31