Surviving Slater

by Regan Ure

  Once inside, I sat on his sofa, and he sat down beside me. I sent Levi a text to tell him I was at Slater's.

  I was waiting for him to ask what happened but he didn't. He sat silently beside me.

  "I'm sorry," I said, feeling self-conscious about what happened. Even thinking back to it made me shiver.

  "It's okay." He put an arm around me and pulled me closer. I burrowed deeper into his arms and he held me. It would be so easy to ignore what happened and just stay safely wrapped in his embrace.

  "Do I need to teach Steven a lesson?" he asked. His question took me by surprise.

  I lifted my eyes to his. "No. He didn't do anything wrong."

  I had. I should have elaborated but I didn't. I lay my head against his shoulder and just breathed him in. The chaos inside began to settle as I exhaled. I was reminded of why I had kissed Steven and I didn't like the uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  "He called me baby." Slater's arm tightened around me.

  "Usually when I start hooking up with a guy I tell them up front I don't like to be called that. For some reason I never got to that conversation with Steven."

  His arm around me remained tense.

  "Why did he call you that?" His eyes found mine, making me feel worse for what I was about to tell him.

  "I let him kiss me," I said, feeling the need to reveal it. I don't know why. He stilled for a few moments, taking in my revelation before he pulled away from me and stood up.

  The fear of losing him gripped me and I clasped my hands together to stop myself from trying to reach out to him, making me wince.

  He had every right to feel hurt and angry. I had used Steven to try and get over him. It had felt so wrong but that hadn't stopped me.

  "Say something," I whispered, waiting for him to get angry and yell at me.

  "What do you want me to say?" he said, and there was a hard edge to his words despite the vulnerability in his eyes. "That it hurts? But you know that already."

  His controlled response scared me more. He walked over to the window and kept his back to me. If his body language was anything to go by, it felt like he was shutting me out and I only had myself to blame.

  "How would you feel if I went and kissed some girl?" He let out an emotional breath and rubbed the back of his neck.

  It struck me like a physical slap to my face. I felt so much worse because I knew how much it would hurt me. I was losing him. The panic rose up in me and I stood up.

  "Slater," I said, hoping it would be enough for him to turn around and face me.

  He rolled his shoulders before he turned to face me. His eyes were fierce and angry.

  "I won't be played," he said. "No more games."

  It was decision time. I could feel it in my bones. I was scared with both scenarios that could play out. I was frightened to try and make things work with him but I felt that same feeling when I thought about walking away from him.

  "You're trying to push me away. I can see it for what it is."

  I swallowed while his eyes kept mine locked in a stare. He didn't look like he was going to walk away; this time he faced me with a determined look that told me he was staying to fight for me.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  "You're scared," he said, and I felt like he was seeing deep inside me—way beyond what anyone else could see. He stepped forward and his hands touched the sides of my face. I couldn't answer him, my throat was too tight. "But you don't need to be."

  I frowned. The feelings of betrayal and rejection assaulted me. He had shut me out way too many times.

  "You once walked away when you were faced with my emotional baggage," I reminded him. Everyone had stuff from their past that affected their lives, some worse than others. "You didn't want the responsibility of knowing my darkest secrets."

  My hurt renewed.

  "I didn't handle it well at all," he said, letting out an emotional breath. "The truth was I was scared like you're scared now. I know what you're going through but you can't keep doing this. It's time to be honest with yourself and accept how you feel about me."

  I hesitated, trying to find the courage to take the step I needed to. What he was asking was much harder to put into action. It was like taking a step into the darkness, not sure of whether there would be a path to walk on or if I'd fall into nothingness that would consume me. I didn't think I could withstand another rejection from him.

  "If I let myself love you, it will devastate me if we don't make it." I was laying out my deepest fears.

  "No more games, just the truth. And we take it one day at a time."

  "What if it's too late already?" I asked in a whisper. What if we were prolonging the inevitable parting of ways? What if we couldn't fix what we had broken?

  "It isn't." He refused to even entertain the idea. "I didn't run tonight and I won't."

  He was right. Tonight he had stayed and dealt with me when I had been an emotional mess. Actions spoke louder than any words.

  His eyes were hypnotic and I couldn't pull my gaze from his. His eyes flickered to my lips before they lifted to meet mine again. I licked my lips, my throat suddenly feeling dry.

  "Can you be honest with yourself and how you feel about me?" It was time to decide.

  I swallowed hard. He hadn't run tonight and that had given me a glimmer of hope that he would be there for me when I needed him. It was something I hadn't had before.

  I nodded.

  His eyes held mine, intense and dark. "Can you trust me?"

  "Yes." My answer was hoarse with the love I felt for him.

  His one hand found mine and he pulled me to him. My hand went to his waist as his lips lowered to mine. I reached up to meet his kiss. It felt so good to have his mouth against mine. His arms encircled my waist, bringing me closer to him.

  My mouth opened and he growled as he explored it with the caress of his tongue against mine. It felt so right. For so long I had been fighting it and my feelings for him. And now I could embrace those emotions.

  There was still the part of me that was frightened of the future and what could happen but after experiencing what I had with him, it would be impossible to embrace the life I had led before and still feel fulfilled.

  Meeting him and loving him had shown me there was more to life than I had ever hoped for.

  I was breathless when his lips lifted from mine. He leaned his forehead against mine. "I don't think I will ever get enough of you."

  A lifetime of him wouldn't be enough. His thumb brushed my bottom lip before he dropped his hand.

  "Before we get sidetracked, I should probably feed you," he said. I nodded.

  I was a little hungry. I sat down at the kitchen counter as he searched through his cabinets. Unlike me, he knew his way around a kitchen.

  "Pasta or steak?" he asked.

  "Pasta."

  I watched him while he made some spaghetti and sauce.

  "How did you learn to cook?" I asked.

  He stopped and turned to face me. "I had to learn to survive on my own from a young age. My foster parents left me to fend for myself so if I didn't make something to eat I went hungry."

  My heart squeezed and I hated that I had reminded him of a painful past.

  "I'm sorry," I said, standing up and walking to him.

  "Don't be," he said as I put my arms around him and hugged him, needing to chase away the memories. "We can't change the past—and besides, if I hadn't walked the path I had, I wouldn't be here with you now."

  I had never thought about it like that but I liked the positive way to view our damaged childhoods.

  We sat side by side and ate our food. Afterward he put our dirty plates in the sink.

  "Let's go to bed," he said, and I put my hand into his.

  He led me through the bedroom and into his bathroom. He turned on the shower and began to help me undress. I got in and I half-expected him to join me but he didn't.

  "I'll get you a change of clothes." My beautiful dress had bloodstains
from my cut hand.

  When he got back he helped me wash myself before rinsing me off. He switched off the shower and wrapped me in a towel. His clothes were too big but I loved the feel of them against my skin. The smell of him surrounded me.

  He led me to the bed and pulled the covers back. I got in and lay down.

  "I didn't like seeing you hurt today," he said when he got in beside me on the bed. His hand touched mine.

  I turned my head to look at him. His fingers brushed against mine.

  "Usually when that happens I don't let anyone close."

  "Really?" he asked with a slight frown marring his handsome features.

  I nodded. "But when you touch me, I feel…safe." I knew by admitting this important fact I was letting him in again, giving him more power to hurt me. It seemed too natural to resist.

  "I want that."

  "Even when I'm freaking out because some guy called me 'baby'?" I was pushing him to see how far I could go. "What if it happens again? What if this time it's in a crowded place where lots of people witness it?"

  He shook his head gently at me. "I don't care what people think. You should know that."

  His fingers wrapped around my uninjured hand and held it more tightly, before looking at me again. "I like looking after you. It makes me feel good."

  I was still feeling raw and emotional. His words were beautiful and what I needed to hear.

  "You know what an emotional basket case I am and you're still willing to stick it out?"

  He chuckled. "I'll have you any way I can."

  I stared at him, not sure what to say. He was saying all the right things and I couldn't find fault in any of it.

  "You have nothing in your past that you should feel ashamed of," he said. "Unlike me. Not even taking Shannon into account, I've done some pretty questionable things, so if anyone should be worried it should be me."

  I smiled, a real smile that lifted my heart.

  "This thing with you," I said, feeling so open and vulnerable, "I want it so badly."

  His hand found mine again.

  "But what if we don't make it? What if our feelings aren't enough to make this work?"

  "I have to admit I haven't had the best role models when it comes to happy, healthy relationships, and I can't guarantee what the future holds, but I can't—won't—walk away," he said with such conviction that it made me sway toward him, like a moth to a flame, despite the danger.

  "You know how I feel about you," I said, swallowing to ease the dryness in my throat. He nodded.

  "After everything that has happened to me, I never thought I could trust anyone long enough to develop feelings for them." I paused for a moment before I continued. "But you were different." It was the only way to describe it. I couldn't put my finger on exactly why. "It's like…when you look at me…you see more than anyone does." I shrugged my shoulders, trying to shake off some of my building emotion.

  He watched me, keeping silent so I could say what I needed to.

  "I watched my mother fall in love and get crushed when it didn't work out. I saw the repercussions of loving someone. Every time I watched it happen there was a part of my mother that never fully recovered from it. Like a piece of her went missing every time. But that didn't stop her from doing it again and again. I couldn't understand why someone would do that to themselves. It made no sense."

  My eyes held his. "Now I understand." His hand tightened over mine. "All logical reasoning tells me to say no and walk away," I said. It was hard to read what he was thinking. Did he think I was going to make the decision to let him go? "But my heart wants you."

  He kissed me. I gripped his face with my hands as his tongue explored my mouth. When he pulled away, I felt breathless.

  "But what about my baggage?" I asked, knowing I still had a long road to make peace with what happened to me, or at least get to a stage when someone calling me 'baby' wouldn't set me off on a meltdown.

  "We are all damaged in some way," he said. "I have a sister who wants nothing to do with me. She blames me for what happened."

  I felt the pain that crossed his face. He was letting me in and sharing his pain.

  "Give her time and she'll come around," I assured him, needing him to know that there was still hope.

  "That's what Connor said." He didn't sound convinced. He looked at me like the six-year-old-boy who had thought he had done the right thing.

  "You have no idea how things would have turned out if you hadn't told your teacher about the abuse," I said. "It could have turned out a lot worse."

  "I want to believe that," he admitted. I hugged him. His arms wrapped around me, holding me tighter. I hated seeing him like this,

  For a few minutes we said nothing, just embracing each other.

  "You calm the storm inside of me," he said, and the words inflated my heart. I swallowed, tightening my hold on him. "When my mind's working overtime and I can't make it stop, just being with you eases it. I can't explain it."

  "I feel safe with you," I told him. "It's something I can't explain either."

  He gently brushed his lips against my forehead.

  The battle inside me was over. I didn't know if I had ever had the capacity to walk away.

  "I can't leave you," I said, pulling away to lift my eyes to his.

  "Me either."

  He kissed me and I clasped his face as his mouth moved against mine. He lifted his lips from mine.

  "You can't walk away every time we have a disagreement," I said to him. "I'm trusting you not to break my heart."

  "I won't." His eyes glittered with promise.

  I let out an emotional breath, riding the fear of him walking out on me.

  "And no more games," he demanded.

  "Yes," I confirmed. There would be no more Stevens.

  It was like he sensed my emotions because he took my hand into his and pulled me closer. His lips touched mine and I wrapped my arms around his neck, not wanting to let him go.

  His tongue touched my lips gently and I opened my mouth, allowing him access as my tongue swept against his. There was no resistance when his hands slid down to grip my waist. I lifted my leg and wrapped it over his waist as he deepened the kiss.

  "I need you," I whispered against his lips as I maneuvered to straddle him. Leaning down, I kissed him, tongues swirling as our mouths fused together.

  I ended the kiss only long enough to pull his shirt off me. His eyes darkened as he flipped us over, putting me on my back.

  "You drive me insane," he murmured, taking his shirt off. I let my eyes drift over his ripped stomach and then upward to my name. I reached out and touched the tattoo.

  He looked down at it while I trailed my fingers over it. When I drew my hand away from the intricate drawing of my name on his skin, he looked down at me.

  "Is it weird that I like it?" I asked him.

  "No," he said with a smile.

  "Why did you get it?" I asked.

  "What I feel for you is as permanent at the ink in my skin."

  He kissed me again, leaving me breathless when he pulled away to fully undress me and get protection. The feel of his fingers against my skin made me melt as his eyes bore into mine.

  The overwhelming emotions pressed down on my chest as he laid his body against mine, fitting perfectly like he'd been made for me.

  "You feel so good," he whispered as he kissed my cheek, and I closed my eyes, allowing myself to feel everything, totally and without the fear that had hung over me.

  I groaned as his lips trailed kisses along my neck, and I arched when his mouth closed over my nipple. The gentle sucking made me hold on to him, keeping him from moving away.

  With every touch and soft-spoken word, we joined and he began to move against me, inside of me. Taking me higher. I held on to him as he loved me.

  For once there was no hiding our feelings or physical response to each other when I shattered into pieces. He soon followed as he gripped my hips and tensed above me.

  Afte
rward I held him.

  We weren't a conventional couple; our pasts had molded us into complicated individuals who were trying to find their footing together in life.

  Chapter Thirty

  Seven months later

  Oh, my God. I paced up and down as I eyed the offending object on the kitchen counter.

  I was screwed. You can't be, I told myself, shaking my head to try and control my rising panic.

  I thought about Slater. We had been so happy. He had never given me any reason not to trust him and at no time during the past few months had I ever felt he would walk out on me like he had before.

  It wasn't like we were perfect, we argued and fought, but we always found common ground or agreed to disagree. But this would change everything. I bit my nail. I wasn't ready but I knew I couldn't put it off.

  This wasn't something I could ignore until it went away.

  I put my face in my hands, feeling like my whole world was coming apart, seam by seam, unraveling before my eyes and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

  Just do it already! I told myself. There was a chance it was nothing, but the fear of what it could mean unfurled in my stomach and I had to fight off the nausea.

  I hadn't even mentioned anything to anyone, not even Taylor.

  I picked up the pregnancy test and headed to the bathroom. My legs felt like lead with each step.

  I was three days late and I was never late. The first day I had put it down to stress but by the second day the fear of what it could mean ignited in my mind. And now I was convinced the test would confirm I was pregnant.

  In the bathroom, I stood by the counter and read the instructions. One line was negative and two meant my worst fear was a reality.

  For someone who had never told me he loved me or asked me to move in, I felt this would be too much too soon for him.

  We had never talked about it. We weren't at that point in our relationship. I was happy to just be with him. Being with him had made me realize how empty my life had been without him and I didn't want to lose him.

  I heard soft steps and I froze.

  No no no. Slater was home. He was supposed to be out with Sin.