Discovering Stella

by K. M. Golland

  He dropped his forehead to rest upon hers. “I know. I just don’t like it. She’s the only sister I’ve ever had. I let her go once before, and look what’s happened? It may not have, if I’d been around.”

  Meg pulled back abruptly. “Hey, you can’t blame yourself. You don’t even know what’s happened, or if anything has happened —”

  “It has,” he interrupted with resoluteness.

  “Okay, okay,” she said softly. “I agree, I think something has happened as well. There are obvious signs. But let’s work at making her feel at home so that, in time, when she is comfortable, settled and feeling safe, she’ll relax and possibly share her secret.”

  Deliberating Meg’s words, I understood where she was coming from. But from my experience with Stella already, I thought she needed a helping hand. She needed to be gently pushed, and I was the pushing type.

  * * *

  Todd and Meg took their leave shortly after our kitchen meeting. I, on the other hand, waited for Stella to finish up in the bathroom. Why is it that chicks take their sweet fucking time?She’d been in there for more than an hour.

  Sitting down on the hallway floor, I’d nearly dozed off when the bathroom door finally opened and Stella wandered out in a pair of pink pyjama shorts and a pussycat singlet top. Instantly, my brain linked the furry feline with the pussy between her legs. I wanted to touch her again, this time without the fucking underwear.

  “Shit! What are doing? You scared me half to death,” she shrieked, stepping back and clutching at her chest, her backward motion unsteady due to her noticeable imbalance.

  I got up quickly and went to help her. “Your foot is still sore.”

  “It’s fine,” she said, dismissing my concern and limping past me.

  Without hesitation, I scooped her into my arms and headed for her bedroom.

  “Lawson, put me down!” she whisper-cursed.

  “Sure thing, when we get to your bed.”

  “No! Put me down! Now!”

  Ignoring her protest, I carried her into her room and knelt on her bed, gently placing her upon it. Thoughts of accidentally slipping and falling on top of her flitted across my mind, but I quickly quashed that ridiculous notion and straightened up, giving her some space.

  “Thanks, but carrying me was unnecessary,” she murmured, glancing at my lips for the smallest of seconds before scooting backward. That small, inconspicuous glimpse was enough to tell me that she wanted more of what we’d been doing before Todd and Meg had arrived home. That small glimpse held so much goddamn promise.

  Sitting myself down by her feet, I gently picked up her injured foot and rested it on my lap. “You really should get it looked at,” I said, caressing it softly.

  She flinched just slightly, but didn’t pull her foot away. “It’s just a sprain. I’m a nurse, remember? It will be back to normal in a day or two.”

  Not being one to beat around the bush — or argue with a nurse over a medical condition — I changed the subject. “Stella, about before —”

  “It can’t happen again.” Her voice and matching expression lacked conviction alongside the biting of her bottom lip. Like fucking fun, it can’t!

  I raised an eyebrow and fired her a shit-eating grin. “It’s gonna happen again, angel.”

  Stella wrenched her foot from my grip and hugged her legs to her chest. “Get. Out!” she sobbed, her words quiet yet just as potently filled with pain had she screamed them at me.

  Her sudden change of demeanour had me sitting there in shock, watching dumbfounded as she rocked back and forth with tears springing from her eyes. What the hell did I do? She hasn’t been like this since ... since that day by the side of the road, when —“Shit, Stella, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to call you that.”

  She didn’t say anything, continuing to rock back and forth, crying into her knees. It was horrifying to just sit there and watch such agony and hurt radiate from her, the pain apparently due to one simple word. Unable to walk away, or let her withdraw as she had previously, I quickly scrambled across the bed, wrapping my arms around her shoulders and pulling her into me. “Shh, I’m sorry. It’s okay. Let it out.”

  “Just leave me alone, Lawson. I want to be alone,” she whimpered, unsuccessfully trying to pry herself loose from my hold.

  “Stella, I’m not going anywhere. Just cry. Fight me. Kick and scream. Whatever it is that’s inside of you ... let it out.”

  She surrendered the struggle and slumped in my grip. “I can’t do it; I just can’t. I’ve tried, but I can’t,” she cried.

  I couldn’t do anything except let her lie in my arms, sobbing for what seemed like minutes on end. I didn’t say anything, just held her tight and rubbed her shoulders for reassurance while her apple-scented skin permeated my senses. There was just something about her that drew me in. Her innocence, yet fiery attitude. Her natural beauty, yet sexy demeanour ... her fragility.

  “I’m damaged,” she murmured flatly, snapping me out of my thoughts.

  Hearing her write herself off like that tore me apart, so I kissed the top of her head to try and give her comfort. “We all are, to an extent.”

  “I’m a waste of time, Lawson. I can’t give you what you want.”

  “You don’t know what I want, Princess. And you are far from a waste of anything.”

  She pulled back and stared at me, her red-rimmed eyes heavy with sadness. “You’ll regret it, and you’ll get bored.”

  “I doubt that,” I said sincerely, desperately wanting to kiss her again and take away her anguish. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know that now was not the time, though. Yes, she needed gentle pushing, but it was also clear to me that she needed to trust. She needed to know that I was there to help her, above all else.

  Stella sighed and snuggled back into me. “We’ll see.”

  “We will.”

  “Don’t hold your breath. What you see is what you get.”

  “I don’t believe that for a second. There’s so much more to you than what you let on.”

  She went to pull away, but I held her tight, her warm body fitting perfectly against mine.

  “I’m telling you, Lawson, you’re setting yourself up for disappointment. I’m not one you should get involved with.”

  Listening to her doubt herself was hurting my head, so I changed the subject. “I heard you sing before. Your voice is beautiful. You really should embrace it.”

  “Yeah?” she scoffed. “Well, that wasn’t singing. It was humming. There’s a difference.”

  Shuffling down the bed, I pulled her with me so that I was lying on my back with her head on my chest. “Why did you stop?”

  She shot up to a sitting position beside me. “Lawson, I can’t do this ... with you ... here. I’m ... I’m not ready.”

  “Princess, we’re just lying down and talking. That’s it.”

  Stella paused, letting her eyes wander over my relaxed posture. I could tell she was apprehensive, but it was the slight blushing of her cheeks and the small peaks forming under her pyjama top that led me to believe she was also keen.

  Noticing me staring, she quickly covered her chest and crossed her arms over one another.

  I laughed, pulling her down to lie beside me again. “Come here. I told you, I’m not a sick pervert. Just relax and talk to me.”

  “About what?” she grumbled.

  “About singing. Why did you stop?”

  Sighing, she made herself comfortable and rested her hand on my abdomen, the touch sending a thrill to my groin. Luckily, my shorts had ample room for expansion.

  “It wasn’t a choice, really. I just stopped.”

  “Do you love singing?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then just start again.”

  “Lawson, it’s not that easy. Music has a way of infiltrating your soul. It becomes a part of you. You have to feel it and breathe it for it to be conveyed properly. I’m just not feeling it anymore.”

  “I get that, but eventual
ly you will feel it again. You just have to open your mouth and let the words tumble out. You can’t run without first walking.”

  Honestly, I had no idea where this psychobabble bullshit was coming from. The last thing I was qualified to do was dish out advice on moving forward. Yet, in my mind, the only way to move forward was to stop going back.

  “I just don’t think I can,” she said quietly, tracing her finger over my t-shirt covered abs, an action I’m certain she didn’t know she was consciously doing. “I’ve tried. I open my mouth, but the words evade me.”

  “Don’t put too much emphasis on it. Fuck, listen to me, sounding like I know what the fuck I’m talking about,” I said, laughing at myself.

  Stella giggled and tilted her head to look up at me. “Yeah, you really don’t know shit, do you?” she asked with a sly smile.

  My body tensed and my pulse quickened, the urge to refrain from lifting her on top of me almost impossible. Having no option other than to take slow, inconspicuous breaths in order to calm my raging testosterone, I lifted a finger and trailed it down her cheek. “I do know some shit,” I responded, gazing deep into her eyes. “I know that you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. And I know that if I don’t get the fuck out of this room right now, I might continue where we left off earlier. I also know that after tonight, you are not ready for that. Baby steps, Princess.”

  With that I rolled over, flipping her onto her back and holding my weight above her as if to prepare myself for a push-up. “I will tell you this, though — when you are ready, watch out. I’m coming for you. And when I do, you won’t know what hit you.” Activating the muscles in my arms and shoulders, I lowered and pressed a swift kiss to her lips before getting to my feet and walking out of her room like the responsible fucker that I am.

  S E V E N

  Moving forward

  Oh my god! Did he just say that? What am I supposed to do with that information?

  After Lawson left my room, I remained frozen, stunned as if I were a dead fish, except I was breathing slowly as I tried to decipher what he’d said. ‘I’m coming for you. And when I do, you won’t know what hit you.’

  Did I want him coming for me? My god, I didn’t know. I didn’t know whether I was ready for that kind of thing ... or if I could handle it. I also couldn’t deny that I liked him. A lot. He evoked feelings in me that I’d long buried, feelings I wasn’t sure I would ever feel again. When I was around him, I felt safe ... comfortable.

  Turning on my side, I scrunched the sheets to my chest, an uncontrollable smile forming on my face. ‘I know that you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.’ The sincerity in his eyes when he’d said those words couldn’t be mistaken. At least, I hoped it couldn’t. Could it? What if I’m being played? Crap! I didn’t really know the guy. In fact, I’d only known him for a little more than a week. And then there was the fact I’d just broken down in front of him for the second ... wait ... third, or was it the fourth time? Ugh ... what a crazy mind-fuck. I must admit though, that it had been somewhat of a relief to finally talk about things I’d deliberately bottled and sealed. Just that small release of information and emotion had lifted a constricting weight from around my head. However, now it was doubt’s weight slowly creeping over me. I just ... I just didn’t know whether to let myself attempt “normal” again.

  Rolling over to my other side, restless and confused, my smile from moments ago disappeared. My head was again a tumbleweed of mixed emotions, uncertainty dominating everything. For so long I’d been an empty shell, virtually devoid of any emotion whatsoever. So, in hindsight, a farrago of feelings was better than no feelings at all, right? Stella, take a breath and slow down. Things are moving too fast. Just breathe.

  Ugh! I needed to find my bearings and get my life in order before I contemplated anything beyond friendship with Lawson. No matter how good he tasted, or how wonderful his lips felt pressed against mine, I first needed to find some stability. That was a certainty, and tomorrow was going to be the beginning of that particular journey. Tomorrow, I started my new job at the pub and I was more than looking forward to it.

  * * *

  “Stel, you can’t work with your foot like that,” Todd protested.

  “Like hell I can’t. Look ...” I said, rotating it with great difficulty. “It’s fine.”

  “You are the worst liar in history. Try doing that again without displaying the pain it causes.”

  “So what? It hurts a little. I’ve suffered more pain than a bloody sprained foot,” I snapped, staring him down.

  Todd smirked and lowered his coffee mug to the bench. “Yeah? You wanna tell me about that particular pain?”

  Sneaky bastard. I fell into that trap with a thud. “No,” I said, turning my back to him and tipping the dregs of my cup of tea down the kitchen sink.

  “Your call. I’m not going to push you. But you might want to think about letting someone in. It could help.”

  Sighing, I closed my eyes to prevent them spilling tears down my cheeks. I knew he meant no harm with his persistence; I knew he was just being the caring, loving and devoted Todd he’d always been. I just couldn’t bring myself to let him in — to tell him the truth.

  “I don’t need help, Todd. I’m dealing with this shit on my own. It’s the only way I know how. Part of that way is moving into new ventures, and working at the pub alongside you is one of them.” Turning to face him once again, I gave him my puppy dog eyes. “Please! Let me start today. I’ll rest my foot if it becomes painful. Pinky swear.”

  Todd looked at my outstretched little finger, so I waggled it for him and smiled.

  “All right,” he surrendered, “but you will be sitting for most of the day. I’ve got some jobs you can do that don’t require being on your feet. You may not like them, but stiff shit, I’m the boss.”

  Deciding not to argue with him further, I conceded. “Okay.” You’re the boss. So let’s go, boss-man.”

  He shook his head and laughed before grabbing his car keys and gesturing me toward the door. “You’ve changed, yet you haven’t,” he mumbled.

  I tried my best not to limp, tenuously skipping along instead. “That’s a contradiction.”

  “No, it’s a paradox.”

  “Fair enough, but don’t we all change yet somehow remain the same?”

  He huffed. “Maybe.”

  “Toddler, just let it go. Yes, I’ve changed. I’ve changed irrevocably and for good reason. But I’m still the Stel Bel who used to turn your socks inside out and leave rose petals in your bed.”

  He let out a deep chuckle and held the front door open for me. “Yes, you did. You were such a pain in my arse.”

  “You can talk. Every time a guy chatted me up at school you scared him off with your ‘big brother’ bullshit, telling him you were a national kickboxing champion. Oh yes, I knew all about it, Todd. And don’t get me started on Mr TV Remote Hog. I bet that particular characteristic of yours hasn’t changed.”

  “Too right it hasn’t. And it never will.”

  “Well ... consider your socks to be found inside out when I next do the washing.”

  He shook his head and chuckled once more. “Looking forward to it.”

  * * *

  Todd wasn’t joking when he said I wouldn’t like the ‘sitting down’ jobs he had in mind, folding napkins around cutlery being one of them. So far, I had done a whole tray full of the stupid things.

  “How you goin’ there, Stel?” he called out from behind the bar.

  “Fine,” I called back, swivelling around to roll my eyes at him. “Although, one of the knives did protest at being swathed with a fork. He said he preferred other knives.”

  He laughed. “Come on, it’s not that bad a job.”

  “Oh, I’m not complaining. I’m just warning you that I’m an advocate for cutlery rights. If knives want to be paired with knives, who am I to disagree?” I said, looking back at the two forks in my hand. I deliberately paired them together while
trying to force back my smug smile.

  “So,” he said, startling me as he stepped up beside me, “are you telling me there are pairs of knives wrapped up in that pile you have there?”

  “I can neither confirm nor deny,” I answered, quickly wrapping the forks in a napkin so that he couldn’t see.

  He shook his head. “Pain. In. My. Arse.”

  Winking, I placed my marriage of forks on the tray and then wrapped my last pair — a knife and a fork, they were conventional. “It’s awfully quiet today. Where is everybody?”

  “It’s Sunday. Lawn bowls day. Don’t you worry, they’ll all be here soon. Sunday arvo is one of our busiest times. Bone Dry plays a couple of sets as well.”

  “I thought you said their lead singer was an, um ... how did Lawson put it? A leg-opener as opposed to a mouth-opener.”

  “She is. Bone Dry’s lead guitarist also sings, so he’s been covering. Why? You interested?” A hint of a smile crept in at the corner of his mouth.

  “Hell no! I told you, I don’t sing any more.” I turned to check the table as Todd walked back to the bar.

  “You will,” he replied confidently. “You said you wanted a fresh start. When you’re settled, comfortable and happy, you’ll sing again and you won’t even know that you’re doing it.”

  Rising from my seat, I picked up the tray of cutlery and turned, only to be greeted by Todd, who plonked another tray down on my table, this particular tray containing salt and pepper shakers and two large bags full of the same.

  “Are you serious?” I complained, shoving my cutlery tray at him and plopping down in my seat again.

  He smirked. “At least you won’t be faced with protesting utensils.”

  “No, but didn’t you know that pepper likes to cross-dress?”

  “Stella!” he warned as he headed back to the bar.

  I laughed. “I’m kidding. I won’t sabotage your seasonings.”

  “Good, because I’d have to fire you if you did.”

  Smiling, I went about filling the salt and pepper shakers. Unbeknownst to Todd, I was actually thoroughly enjoying myself. It was nice to finally feel normal, participate in normal. Be normal. I was also thinking about what he’d said in relation to me singing, that I’d do it when I was happy and comfortable, as I was in this moment.