"Don't be so wishy washy," I laughed, wiping my cheeks.
"I'm serious," he said, looking more serious than I remembered him. "It was that way with me and Em. I was... more myself than I ever have been when I was with her. But also... different. I got angry easier. I constantly wanted to throttle her. And then have wild sex with her."
"There's a flaw in your argument though," I told him.
"What's that?"
"I'm the one in love with him," I said, smiling in a sad way. "He's not the one in love with me."
"You sure about that, gorgeous?" he asked, slapping a hand down on my knee and getting on his feet. He looked down at me, a brow lifted, then walked away.
When did James become that guy? The 'I'm in love so I can give you relationship advice' guy? I missed my old James. I missed the carefree, happy-go-lucky goof who was a true connoisseur of women and would have called me a fool for falling in love with anyone. That James would
have dragged me out on the town and told me he was going to get me drunk and laid. He would have made me laugh until I felt better.
Maybe Emily had tamed him a little. Or maybe his loyalty lied with Dane now.
Either way he didn't know what the hell he was talking about. Dane didn't love me. I didn't expect him to. That wasn't how love always worked. Sometimes it genuinely was only ever going to be one-sided. Men like Dane didn't fall for women like me: quiet and shy and boring. They fell for girls covered with tattoos and piercings and short skirts who traveled the country in their old beloved beat up Broncos giving the world the finger and really living their lives. That was the kind of girl Dane should be with. And I would never be her. I couldn't even pretend to be.
I loved Dane because I loved him. I didn't love him because I expected him to love me. I loved him selflessly. Which, in my opinion, was the only way to love someone.
I got up off the ground and walked around the front of the inn. I wasn't going back to my room. I couldn't. Like... literally couldn't talk myself into it. Into a room with Dane on the other side of the wall. I got into my car, turned down Main Street, and drove out of Stars Landing.
I didn't have a plan. I just needed to get away. I just needed some space. I needed to sleep somewhere that wasn't accessible to Dane by a porch and window. I honestly didn't trust myself to not climb over there and tell him to forget what happened so we could just go back to how it was before.
I pulled into a parking lot, pulling out my phone and shooting off a quick text to Emily.
Hey. I am going to need to take some time off. I'll be in touch in a few days.
There. It was done. I put the car back into drive, turning off the navigation and just driving. Which wasn't like me. I had to have my route planned and plugged into the GPS and printed on paper too just in case, filled in with every place I was going to stop for gas, food, and to sleep. That was me. Ever prepared. Meticulous. Maybe a little OCD.
I found a hotel around the time the sun started to come up, a rinky dink little operation on a busy road that made me wait an additional hour and a half for check-in. I stripped the bed and put down the assortment of towels from the bathroom that smelled comfortingly of bleach, lay down fully clothed, and fell asleep.
I woke up feeling hungover. That was the only way to put it. My eyes were swollen, my face dry, my head pounding behind my eyes. I groaned, pushing myself off the bed. In the harsh light of day, the room was a real hellhole. The kind of dated and dirty that made me feel like I needed a shower. In ammonia.
I grabbed my stuff and checked out, spending a few minutes in my car on my cell looking for somewhere else to go.
Running away wasn't like me. But, then again, I never got myself into situations that I felt the need to escape from. I always played too safe for that.
But the fact of the matter was I couldn't go back until I got my shit together. I needed to get my emotions under control. I needed to get to the point where I thought I could face him daily without turning into a puddle of need and patheticness. I wasn't going to let my personal life effect my professional one any more than it already had.
I made a call, made a reservation, and took off toward the only place I could find that would make it impossible to stress out: an all woman yoga and meditation retreat... for healing.
Yeah, that's how low I had stooped.
Fifteen
Dane
There was a pounding on my door, hard and insistent. I ignored it, reaching for the bottle of whiskey I had stashed in the unfinished master bedroom. It was her. I knew it was her. And I just... I couldn't face her right then. Not after the shit I said. Not after such an epic fucking argument. I felt antsy and drained at the same time and there wasn't enough whiskey in the world to take those memories away.
"Open the door, man," James' voice called, making me turn and walk through the empty space, unlocking the door.
"You're back early."
"I missed my woman," he said, stepping in and looking around. "You made a lot of progress."
"Yeah," I said, tipping up the bottle and taking a long swig.
"That's not a water bottle," James said, lifting a brow.
"From what I hear you were half in the bag every night for weeks after you left Red so..."
"Yeah, I heard you have woman trouble," he said, turning to me with a look that suggested he wasn't going to give in until he got all the details.
"I always have woman trouble. Do you have any idea how many times I've woken up to a keyed car?"
"Not what I meant and you know it." He was quiet for a minute, leaning against the wall. "I was taking a walk outside the inn a few minutes ago and I came upon the strangest scene."
"And I assume you're going to tell me all about it."
"Well I heard this noise. It was like a dying animal actually. So I followed it and I saw Cordelia sitting against a tree sobbing."
"She was crying?" I asked, more than a little guilty at the realization. I wanted to push her away. I wanted her to see how stupid she was being. I didn't want her to cry. I wasn't that big of a monster.
"I believe I said sobbing," he corrected, "like someone killed her dog. Know anything about that?"
"You know I do," I said, taking another long swig. I needed the numbness and warmth. I needed to not feel whatever the fuck it was that I was feeling.
"What happened?"
"She told me she loved me," I shrugged, cringing at the memory.
"And you..."
"Told her she was being stupid."
"Right," he said, half-smiling as he shook his head. "Because that was the most delicate way to handle someone's unwanted affections."
"Have you seen me?" I asked, rolling my eyes. "Nothing about me is delicate."
"Doesn't mean you need to be a dick about it. She's got a crush. You didn't need to... crush her for it."
"I could deal with a crush. But she's deluded herself into thinking she's in love with me, man. What am I supposed to do with that? Pretend that it's okay? It's not. I don't do love. I have fun and then I move on."
"You don't think you could have maybe told her that without making her feel like she wasn't a fool? Women can forgive a lot of things they probably shouldn't. But they cant forgive someone else making them feel foolish."
"You should have heard her, man. She was screaming like a fucking lunatic."
"Cordelia?" he asked, looking disbelieving. "Quiet little Cordelia Cameron actually raised her voice to you?"
"Yup. Repeatedly."
"Damn. Maybe she really does love you."
"Right," I laughed, "because the only reason a woman ever yells is when she loves someone. That makes perfect sense."
"In case is escaped your notice, she's got herself all wrapped up in on herself. I've known her for close to four years now and I have never seen her speak above a normal, everyday tone. Not that she doesn't feel the emotions. She feels everything, more than you could guess. But because of all
of her anxiety issues, she keeps it all buried. She'd be damned if she let you see her sweat. It's like her biggest fear. So the fact that she lets you see that..."
"It doesn't mean shit," I said, knowing I was losing the argument, but needing to stay in it anyway. "If you heard the stuff I said to her... you would think differently about the yelling."
God, the shit I said. I knew she needed to hear them. I mean she really needed the reality check. No woman like her should ever look at me with stars in her eyes. It wasn't right. I needed to show her how wrong it was. But that didn't mean I enjoyed it. My stomach was coiled into a painful fist the entire time I was going at her. I might at times be a little heartless with my hookups, but it is always for their own best interest. I had no plans on keeping them around. They needed to know the deal. They needed to make sure they didn't get their hopes up.
That's where I had screwed up with Cordy.
I really dropped the ball. What the fuck had I been thinking? I knew better than to get someone so involved so quickly. Hell, I knew better than to have a girl doing a back-to-back. And then there I had been, screwing around with the girl in the next room every night.
Then I took her on a date. Fucking-a. What was that? I didn't do dates. I mean I might buy you a few rounds at a bar. I might bring you for coffee after meeting you on the street somewhere. But only because it was going to lead to immediate sex.
I didn't need to take Cordy out. I already had the sex. I could have the sex as much as I wanted.
So why had I done it? That was really the million dollar question. Because that was what led to this cluterfuck of a situation. It's what made her think she was in love with me. It's what made her screw everything up.
"Yo," James said, his brows together.
"What?"
"You were spaced out for like five minutes there. I think that's enough whiskey."
"There's no such thing as enough whiskey. Not on nights like this."
"You know... the whole time she was talking to me, explaining this argument to me... I kept thinking..."
"That's never a good thing," I grumbled.
"You never let a chick get to you. You have sex with them and then you kick them out. You would never stand around with them and discuss why you were getting rid of them. And you certainly never yell at them."
"I didn't yell..." But I did. I knew it and he knew it.
"Did you ever stop to think why?"
"Why what?"
"Why you felt the need to argue with her about it."
"I don't know. Because it was a dumb move on her part. And she's not dumb. She's... brilliant and complicated and frustrating and just... different. She's not the moronic girl who thinks she's in love with the one night stand she had. That's not her."
"You care about her," James said, shrugging.
"What? No. That's not what I said."
"It's not what you said, but it's what you meant."
"James, just because you're in love doesn't mean..."
"Jesus Christ," he said, sounding frustrated. "What is it with you?"
"What are you talking about?" I hadn't known James for long, but I knew him well. He was light-hearted with a good head for business though he didn't want anyone to know that, and he was ridiculously head over heels for Emily. He wasn't someone who got annoyed. "Just admit it already."
"Admit what?" I asked, my brows drawing down. What was his problem?
"If you cant even admit it to yourself, I can't help you," he said, making his way to the door. "But Cordelia is incredible. And she loves you. And if you could just get your head out of your ass for a minute you would see..."
"See what?"
But the door slammed and he was gone.
I took another long swig, walking across the apartment and onto the fire escape. I needed air. Everyone around me was acting like a fucking lunatic. I leaned against the railing, looking down at the grates. An image of her popped into my head unbidden. On her knees, mouth open, eyes hungry. Eyes full of want and reverence and...
Love.
Her eyes had been full of love for me. It wasn't a look I had recognized until she told me how she felt. But it was how she looked at me every time. As far back as I could remember. On our date, in bed before then, when she was screaming at me a little while ago.
There was something that stuck with me through the argument. Something that stood out. She asked me why she was the one who was there. Why it was her and not one of the other women she had seen me with. Why was she there? Why was she doing back to backs? Why was I going out of my way to give her a memorable date?
Because she was different. I knew that. I knew that the first day I met her. She was so different from all the other women I got involved with. She was reserved but awkward, uptight but silly. She had a moral compass always pointing north and a good heart. She was refreshing and sweet and...
Lovable.
Oh, fuck.
Sixteen
Cordelia
I drove back to Stars Landing six days later, feeling marginally better. And by 'marginally better' I mean not ready to burst into tears from moment to moment or battling a very strong urge to smash the windows of his car with a baseball bat.
It was amazing what ten hours a day of yoga and meditation will do for you.
But I was actually feeling alright. Less tense. Less anxious. I was ready to get back to work, to get my career back on track. I hadn't messaged Emily or James or... anyone since I said I would be taking some time off. This was partly because I really just didn't want to have to give
them any explanations and answers. It was also partly because my phone charger was still back at the inn and my phone had died the first night I arrived at the retreat with a shopping bag full of new clothes because I literally had nothing but the clothes on my back.
I was wearing a pair of gray yoga pants and a tight pink spandex workout halter top with bright orange running shoes. It would be interesting to try to explain my outfit to James and Emily. But whatever.
Stars Landing felt familiar as I pulled back in. The faces were the same faces I had left which was a weird realization for someone from a big city. A few people even smiled and waved at me as I drove past. It was nice. I had never given much thought to where I lived. I had grown up in cities. I knew nothing else. I never knew my neighbors. I couldn't tell you the name of the baristas who made my coffee every morning. It was just not how things were done in the city. It never occurred to me how wrong that was before I came to Stars Landing. It was nice to see familiar faces. It was comforting and homey.
"Well well well," Devon's voice greeted me at the front desk. "She returns. Nice outfit."
I smiled at him. "Yeah, I sort of forgot I had this retreat planned. I got a call the night before I left to remind me and I tried to cancel but it wasn't refundable. Besides, Em was the one who was going to look for the painters and what not so I figured it was as good a time as any to head out."
"Speaking of," he said, nodding his head behind me.
I turned, looking into the sitting room which was painted a crisp, fresh coat of the color Emily and I had finally decided on. "Oh," I breathed out. "Wow."
"Yeah," Emily said, coming down the hall. "You were right. It's perfect."
"Oh, hey Emily," I said, turning to face her. "Sorry about the short notice of my taking off. I had a retreat planned and..."
She waved a hand casually at me. "I'm surprised you didn't need a vacation sooner after dealing with me," she smiled and I laughed.
"No, Em. I've really..."
"What the fuck?" A voice yelled from behind us, making me jump and turn before I thought about it.
"Hey Dane," I said, my tone casual and I plastered a smile on my face. I might have still loved his big stupid face, but that didn't mean I needed to let him see me all weak and needy. Nope.
That wasn't me.
"Hey Dane?" he asked, looking downright murderous. "Hey...
Dane..." he said coming closer and Emily was starting to look between us with amused eyes. "You fucking disappear for a week and all you have to say is 'hey Dane'?"
"Oh, I'm sorry," I said, careful to keep my tone light despite the heartbeat I could feel in my throat. "I wasn't aware I needed to run my schedule by you."
I had expected a snarky comment. I had expected something nasty. Or even for him to just storm away. I hadn't expected him to grab my arm and start dragging me toward the door.
"What are you doing? Let go of me."
But there was no getting through to him. He ignored my pulling against him as he dragged me down the steps of the porch, out onto the road, across town, then up the stairs of his apartment. I almost wanted to laugh. It was pretty hilarious and more than one person smiled as we passed by.
He pushed open the door and dragged me through, slamming it behind me. "Hey Dane?" he repeated, just shy of yelling.
"Would you prefer..." I started, but shut my mouth quickly as he charged across the room toward me.
"I would prefer you don't just up and leave without telling anyone where the fuck you were going."
"I'm a grown woman," I said carefully. "I don't need to tell anyone when I am taking a little vacation."
"Like hell you don't. You could have been dead in a..."
"Ditch?" I finished, finding myself smiling. "Did you really just pull the 'dead in the ditch' line? Like I'm a fourteen year old who missed curfew?"
"Shut up," he said, reaching out and grabbing my chin.
"What are you doing?" I asked, trying to shake him off.
"Look at me," he demanded, squeezing my chin harder. "Please," he said more quietly. I took a deep breath and looked up at him, realizing I hadn't looked him in the eye since he showed up. I had glanced at parts of him. His ears, his eyebrows, the collar of his shirt. Just not in those alluring golden eyes. Because I knew if I did, I would be done for.
The Stars Landing Deviant Page 12