To the Fall

by Prescott Lane

  “Please!” I say, throwing my hands up.

  Dr. Lorraine turns to me. “You said Annie knows you the best. Do you think the women you sleep with know you better?”

  I open my mouth to respond, but then think twice. Annie does know me better than anyone. She’s known me my whole life. Who I was before . . . when I was just a kid. Is who we are as kids really who we are—our true personality? I exhale. “No, but I’m not some poet, either, like Annie’s describing.”

  “She also described you as driven, controlling, and focused. You’re much more comfortable with that part of your personality. Why is that?” Dr. Lorraine asks.

  “I don’t know.”

  Dr. Lorraine turns to Annie. “Could you give me a minute alone with Pierce?”

  Annie glances at me. “She can stay,” I say. “She knows everything about me.”

  “You told me you sometimes have problems remembering certain details,” Dr. Lorraine says, tiptoeing around the subject. “Think really hard. Do you remember details about last night?”

  It’s all kind of a blur. Honestly, probably couldn’t pick the women out of a lineup. I shake my head in response to her question.

  “Do you drink or take drugs?” Dr. Lorraine asks.

  “What?” Annie busts out laughing.

  “I’ll take that as a no,” Dr. Lorraine says, and I nod that she’s right in her assessment. “Do you remember your first time? Who you lost your virginity to?”

  My chest tightens in panic. My heart thumps loudly in my head. We don’t talk about that night. Annie and I agreed to never speak about it again. The few times she’s tried, I’ve shut her down quick. How is this damn doctor so fucking intuitive? I look over at Annie, hoping she keeps our agreement.

  Annie holds my gaze and says, “It was with me. We were only fifteen.”

  Dr. Lorraine’s brow furrows. “Really?”

  “It was just the one time,” I say, hoping to end this.

  “So two fifteen year olds had a one-night stand? Yet stayed friends all these years?” Dr. Lorraine asks.

  “We both agreed it was a mistake,” I say.

  “It was my fault,” Annie whispers. “Everything that happened that night is my responsibility.”

  “Annie,” I say, reaching out for her, but she backs away. I turn to Dr. Lorraine. “I don’t see what this has to do with anything.”

  “Maybe it’s nothing,” she says. “Maybe it’s everything.”

  “You need to tell her. All of it,” Annie cries.

  “Annie!” I yell, but she holds firm.

  “Start with your mom. About when she finally gave up on your father leaving Vicki for her. She didn’t make good choices. This one guy used to beat her up pretty regularly. Pierce used to take care of her after.”

  “Out!” I rage. “Right the fuck now. Out!”

  “Pierce, it’s alright,” Dr. Lorraine says, getting to her feet so she’s in front of me.

  “No, my mother, my family is off limits. Annie knows that.” I look at Annie. “You know that.”

  “She needs to know,” Annie says, standing up and walking out of my office, closing the door softly behind her.

  “This is so far beyond the reason I’m in this stupid court-ordered therapy program!” I say.

  “Pierce,” Dr. Lorraine says, her voice as calm as ever. “We don’t need to talk about your family right now.”

  “I don’t want to ever talk about it.”

  “Then we won’t,” she says. “You are in control.”

  My body relaxes slightly. She isn’t going to make me talk about it. I don’t have to relive it. “Okay.”

  “Anything else you want to talk about?” she asks.

  “No.”

  “Alright, but there’s something I want you to do. Another assignment.”

  “What now? Cut my nuts off and roast ’em?”

  “Nothing so dramatic,” she teases. “I want you to take a woman out on a date. Pick her up, go to dinner, a movie, a concert, anything. Just the two of you, no big parties or events. Then take her home, no sex.”

  Sutton pops into my head, although I’m pretty sure I’ve ruined any hope of that. “Alright.”

  “And I’ll lax up on the rules. Kissing, hand holding, snuggling—all allowed.”

  “Wow,” I say with as much sarcasm as I can muster.

  “Now hand over your condoms,” she says, holding her hand out.

  “What?”

  “You told me you always use condoms, so if you don’t have them on you, maybe you’ll follow the diet.”

  “Used them all,” I lie.

  She forces her hand out again. “Hand ’em over.”

  “I can get more.”

  “I know that, but for now, get rid of them all.”

  I roll my eyes and reach into my wallet. It’s not there. Ah, I used that one last night. I open my desk and take out a box, placing it in her hand. “I’ll want those back.”

  Dr. Lorraine laughs and heads for the door. “Toss the ones at home, too.”

  Outside my office, I watch Dr. Lorraine pause and speak to Annie, who gives her a huge hug, like they’ve been friends forever. Dr. Lorraine gives me one last look then slips away. I know that look—the fix this or else look.

  Annie wipes her cheeks and turns toward her desk. I know she wasn’t trying to hurt me. I know she thought she was doing the right thing. “Annie, come in here, please.” She closes the door behind her and stands before me, her eyes locked on mine. “I’m sorry,” I say. She gives a little nod. “Come here. Come to me.”

  She walks slowly around my desk. “I can’t find you like that again. I can’t.” She weeps quietly.

  “You won’t,” I say softly, wrapping her in a hug, and in that moment, I know she won’t. I’ve always believed my behavior didn’t effect anyone but me, but I’m beginning to see how wrong I am. Besides, it isn’t Annie’s job to rescue me from myself. “Let me make it up to you.” She leans back, and I wipe a few tears away with my fingers.

  A small smile crosses her lips. “Tender,” she whispers.

  “So we’re okay?”

  “Always,” she says. “But you still need to make it up to me.”

  I chuckle. “What did you have in mind?”

  “Dinner tonight.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Annie knocked off at five o’clock, which is totally unlike her, especially since we are going to dinner. I figured she’d work through until seven like me, and then we’d eat together. I take a seat at the bar, glancing down at my watch. It’s a couple minutes past seven, and Annie is hardly ever late. I don’t really want to be alone tonight. Shame and guilt aren’t good company. And I’ve done some things that have made them my constant companions. They’re like friends you don’t see very often. They might pass through your mind every now and again, but you don’t dwell on their absence. But as soon as you see them again, you pick up right where you left off. Shame and guilt are like that. Usually, I can brush it aside, focus on work or women, but other times, when you are face-to-face, you feel their squeeze just like they’ve never left. Then you realize, they never have, and they never will.

  But one word from her soft voice sends my demons hiding. “Pierce?”

  My eyes see the smooth skin of her legs first, and slide up her calves, knee, to the middle of her thigh. “Sutton?” I have to shake my head a little. I get to my feet and kiss her cheek, motioning for her to sit. “What are you doing here?”

  “Annie called me. She asked me to come to dinner.”

  Smiling, I say, “Annie went home a few hours ago.”

  My phone dings, and I pull it out, seeing a text from Annie.

  You’re welcome. Enjoy your date! Don’t blow it.

  Sutton’s phone dings, and she pulls it out, turning it to me so I can read it.

  Pierce needs a ride or die chick. I think that’s you!

  Chuckling, I say, “Looks like we’ve been set up.”

  Sutton raise
s her eyebrows. “And you had nothing to do with this?”

  “Not a thing, I promise.”

  Chewing on her bottom lip, she looks down. “It’s just . . . You haven’t sent flowers the past couple days. I thought maybe you lost interest.”

  My head hangs a little. I know as soon as I tell her, she’ll leave, and she looks so good. I’d like to kick my own ass right now.

  “I’d have to send thirty again.”

  “Of course,” she says. “I should’ve known.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “It’s not hard to diagnose a player,” she says. “Cocky, bossy, has a line for everything.”

  “I wasn’t playing you,” I say. “That’s why I told you the truth.”

  “You want brownie points for honesty?” she asks, throwing her hands up in the air.

  “No, but . . .”

  “Forget it,” she says, turning around to leave and smacking right into a waiter, sending a tray of food raining down all over her. She looks back at me, her lip quivering slightly.

  I reach for her, but she steps back, holding her hand up, freezing me to my spot. The waiter apologizes profusely and frantically tries to wipe her off. I wave him away, taking over. “Let me help you.”

  “I just want to go.”

  “There’s a bathroom in my office. You can wash up.”

  “No.” She starts to head toward the lobby, food dripping off her along the way. “Send me a bill for the mess. God, I’m such a klutz.”

  I’m grinning at her. I can’t help it. I’m actually grinning at this disaster. “Don’t be ridiculous. It was an accident.”

  “I’m a mess,” she says, the tears coming harder, and I know she’s not crying over the food.

  “But I’m the one who messed up,” I say, gently touching her elbow.

  “You don’t owe me anything. We’re nothing.”

  “But maybe we could be,” I say. Her blue eyes study me, trying to gauge if she can trust me. I certainly haven’t given her reason to. “Please, just come clean up.”

  She doesn’t say anything or even give me a nod, but when I place my hand at the small of her back to lead her to my office, she doesn’t resist. I’m taking that as a yes.

  I glance over at her, her blue eyes dull with pain. She looks so hurt. I’m sure I’ve hurt women’s feelings before, though never intentionally. Break-ups aren’t easy. But it’s never made me feel like this—so fucking pissed at myself.

  “I hate I made you cry,” I say softly.

  No response. No denial that she’s crying over me. No verbal attack. Nothing.

  Opening the door to my office, I lead her to the bathroom. Without so much as a glance, she disappears behind the door. I hear her curse at herself inside, and I chuckle, but then the shower turns on. My smile fades, my dick hardens. She’s naked in my office. It would be so easy to open the door and slip in behind her, let my hands rub . . . The more likely scenario is that I’d get my dick ripped off. And deservedly so.

  Okay, she’ll need clothes. There’s a little boutique downstairs. I could go get her something, but what if she bolts on me? Instead, I grab my gym clothes out of my drawer and then knock on the bathroom door softly.

  “Yes?”

  “I’ve got some clean clothes for you,” I say. She opens the door a crack. Just enough to stick her arm out. “They’re mine, but at least they’re clean.”

  I lean against my desk and wait for her to come out. How can I save this? I’m so screwed here. Why would she forgive me? There’s no excuse for my behavior. I’ve got explanations, but no good ones, and definitely none I want out in the open. If there was ever a good reason to commit to this sex diet, it’s now. Seeing Sutton hurt. Seeing Annie hurt. Before I was doing the diet to get through with therapy. Now I’m going to do it for them.

  The door opens slowly, her legs coming into view, my gym shorts hanging very loosely. She pulls at the drawstring, trying to tighten them. It really doesn’t matter, because my shirt is hanging almost to her knees. She glances up into my eyes, tucking a strand of wet hair behind her ear. “Do you have a sack or something I can put my clothes in?”

  “Just leave them. I’ll have them cleaned and returned to you.”

  “Thank you,” she says softly. “I’ll do the same with yours.”

  “It’s fine. You look better in them than I do, anyway.”

  Her skin turns a sweet pink color. This is who she really is. She puts on a ball buster act, and maybe that’s part of her, but right now, she looks so vulnerable. She steps toward the door.

  “Please don’t go,” I say. “Stay. We can just talk about business. Toss some ideas around.”

  “Why should I do that?” she asks, a fire rising in her voice.

  “There’s no good reason why you should,” I say. “All I know is, it’s really good to see you, and I don’t want you to leave.” She heads toward the door again. I could let her go. I should let her go. This woman is a temptation I don’t need. But instead, I lightly touch her elbow. “I let you down.”

  Her blue eyes turn up to me, and softly she says, “I didn’t realize it when it was happening, but I started to look forward to the flowers every day.”

  “What can I say? What can I do to make this better?”

  Her shoulders shrug. “I know I shouldn’t have been invested. It’s stupid of me to be upset.”

  “It’s not stupid,” I say, taking her hand and conjuring up her father’s words. “It was brave.”

  “I guess that makes you the coward,” she says.

  My skin crawls. Is there anything worse than being called a coward? Still, I’d let her sling names at me all night if that’s what it takes to make things right. “Honestly, I don’t deserve another shot with you. But I want one.” She just stares at me, the conflict swirling in her blue eyes. She’s not lost to me yet. “What I want most is for you to forgive me. Please forgive me.”

  “You gonna mess up again?” she asks.

  “Not like that,” I say. “I’m sure I’ll do other stupid shit, like leave the toilet seat up or forget to replace the toilet paper roll.” I get a little smile that time. “Want to have dinner and just talk?” Seriously, I cannot believe those words just came out of my mouth.

  “I’m not having sex with you.”

  “I’m not allowed to, anyway.”

  “Allowed? Don’t tell me you’re undergoing STD treatment?” she asks, half-joking, half-serious.

  “Nothing like that. You see, I’m on this sex diet.”

  She laughs, thinking she’s the one who has me on the diet. I’ll tell her everything at some point, but I think we’ve had enough hard truths tonight.

  *

  We order food and a bottle of wine from the hotel restaurant and spend the evening in my office. I can tell she’s being careful. One glass of wine is all she allowed herself to drink. I don’t drink, but I need to be careful, too, or I’ll never graduate from Dr. Lorraine. Besides, we mostly talk shop. Sutton tells me how she started improving the bar a while back and just started making some improvements to the hotel when her grandfather passed. “So I know your grandfather left you the hotel. What about your parents?”

  “My grandfather was a bit of a drinker. He and my dad had a falling out a long time ago, but he was always good to me.”

  “They must be proud of you, taking this on all by yourself.”

  “My mom and dad are divorced. She left when I was really little, lives out in California. My dad pretty much raised me. He’s a retired Marine. Very old school. He’d like to see me married, raising babies.”

  “You don’t believe in those things?” I ask, hoping we’re on the same page about marriage and kids. The adamantly opposed page.

  “I want those things,” she says, her eyes wide. “I do. Very much. Don’t get me wrong, my dad supports me. I think he just likes the idea of someone being there to take care of me. What’s your story?”

  “My story?”

  “Yeah, I
mean, you’ve got quite a reputation, and you’ve never been married or anything.”

  “What’s this reputation you keep talking about?” I ask.

  “Just that you like women, but you always have an escape plan.”

  I laugh out loud. “I guess that’s true.”

  “Why?” she asks.

  I shift on the sofa. This woman is direct, just like me, but I don’t like being on the receiving end. “Long story.”

  She looks away, getting to her feet. “I should go. Hard work running a hotel.”

  I know that’s true, especially one that’s struggling. “Anything I can help you with?”

  She twirls her hair around her finger. “Do you know any good contractors? I think the quotes I’m getting are way too high. I think they look at me, young and female, and jack up the price.”

  “I’m sure they do.” I get up and go to my computer, hitting a few keys. I press print and hand her the paper off the printer. “These guys are good and fair. Tell them I gave you their names.”

  “You don’t mind?”

  “Not at all. If you want, I could meet one of them with you.”

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  She starts for the door then turns back quickly, and I bump right into her, knocking her back slightly. I reach out, capturing her by the waist before she falls. Her blue eyes lock on mine, and softly I say, “To the fall.”

  She smiles, her cheeks turning pink again. “I’m not usually so clumsy.”

  If she’s playing some damsel in distress card, it’s working like a charm. “Guess I bring out the worst in you.”

  She shakes her head a little and steps back. “Thank you for dinner and . . .” She holds up the paper.

  “Would you like to do it again sometime?” I ask, my heart beating wildly in my chest, unable to get a read on this woman, unsure whether I’m forgiven or not.

  “I’m not sure,” she says, walking right out of my office.

  *

  Shit, I’m a really bad dater. But I’m not about to let her walk out of my life. I fall back into my cold bed, and despite my forty-eight hour threesome, my dick is still hard as a rock. I reach for my phone and pull up Sutton’s number. Normally, I’d call a woman, she’d come over, then we’d fuck, and that would be that. But I need to give this thirty-day thing a real shot, for Annie, for Dr. Lorraine, for myself, and for Sutton. She’s worth it. The first day of a new diet is always the hardest, right?