Watch Over Me

by Tara Sivec

  "Meg's going to be fine by the way," I inform him, bringing the focus back to the important matter at hand, knowing that all of the things I shouted at him about my mom fell on deaf ears, just like always. I turn away from him and stalk to the front door flinging it open and walking outside, ignoring my dad as he calls after me over and over.

  "You're the only one who can make yourself happy again, Addison. You've had the power all this time. You just needed to find a reason to be happy again," Dr. Thompson tells me. "If Zander makes you happy, why are you hesitating?"

  I don't have an answer for her. I honestly don't know why I'm stopping myself from letting him in all the way, aside from fear that he'll leave. But I know that's not true. He's not the type of person who would do that, and I know it from the bottom of my heart.

  "I think you know by now that you can't live your life in fear. You know that each and every moment you have on this earth is precious and should never be taken for granted. Don't waste the time you have being afraid. Get your ass in gear and be happy!"

  I sit there and stare at Dr. Thompson in shock for so long that she finally rolls her eyes at me. It's something my mom would have said and done to me, and I'm taken aback.

  It's the first time I've ever walked out of Dr. Thompson's office with chills on my arms.

  I'm standing on Zander's small front porch, soaking wet, trying to gather up the courage to knock. I had to call a cab when I stormed out of the bakery because Zander picked me up early this morning for our picnic so my car was still parked at my apartment. I didn't feel like waiting in the parking lot for it to arrive and chance my dad seeing me and coming out to talk to me, so I walked until the cab pulled up. I walked seven blocks in the pouring rain, the dark clouds and torrential downpour matching my mood.

  But standing here with my hair plastered to my face and my wet clothes clinging to my body, I feel like I'm in a stupid, tragic romance movie where the heroine runs through the rain to get to the man she loves. It's too cliché even for me, but I'm here now, and I might as well knock and get it over with. I need Zander. I need the comfort of his arms and his soothing voice to tell me everything will be okay.

  The door flies open before I can even finish knocking once. Zander stands there in his hospital scrubs and it takes me a moment to remember why I'm there. I've never seen him in his scrubs, and it's a sight to behold. They are the same color blue as his eyes, and all I can think about is taking them off of him.

  "Oh my God, did you walk all the way here? Why didn't you call me?" he asks in shock as he glances out to his driveway and doesn't see my car. "Hurry up, get in out of the rain."

  He pulls me inside and closes the door, immediately wrapping his arms around me and holding me close.

  "I'm getting you all wet," I complain as he quickly rubs his hands up and down my back in an attempt to warm me up.

  "I don't care about that. Why didn't you call me? You promised you'd call if you needed something. I would have picked you up," he scolds.

  I burrow my face into his neck and breathe deep, letting the smell of his soap and cologne fill me and calm my nerves and wash away my anger.

  "I'm sorry. I got into a fight with my dad, and I just needed to leave. I just needed to be here with you."

  I speak against his throat and can't help but place a small kiss right against his Adam's apple. His hospital scrubs are now completely wet thanks to me, but at least now I can feel the heat from his body and the chill that spreads through my skin has nothing to do with my wet clothes and everything to do with the man holding me.

  I pull out of his arms a little so I can stare up at his face. He brings one hand up and pushes some of my wet hair off of my forehead.

  "You need to get out of these wet clothes. I'll get you some towels," he tells me softly as he starts to move away, but I clutch onto the front of his wet hospital scrub shirt and pull him back up against me.

  "I have a better idea. How about you just take your clothes off too, and we can kill two birds with one stone," I tell him with a smile.

  I watch as he wets his lips and swallows nervously before he speaks again. "Don't tempt me right now. It's hard enough as it is trying not to stare at your see-through shirt. I'm trying to be a gentlemen here."

  He starts to move away again, and before he can take his eyes off of me, I quickly reach for the hem of my wet shirt and pull it up and off of my body, tossing it to the hardwood floor where it lands with a splat. His mouth drops open as he stares at me standing right in front of him in nothing but a white, lace bra and wet jeans.

  "What are…oh Jesus…I…holy…wow…"

  I can't help but laugh as he stutters through his words while he looks me up and down. I thought I would be more nervous about this, but I should have known better. Everything about Zander makes me feel comfortable, like I can finally be myself.

  Reaching for the snap of my jeans, I slide the button through the hole and then slowly lower the zipper.

  "I think I might need some help getting these wet jeans off."

  When I hook my thumbs into the waist of my jeans, Zander finally finds his voice and quickly rests his hands on top of mine to stop my attempt of removing them on my own.

  "Sugar, you're driving me crazy. What are you doing?" he whispers.

  "I know I'm a little inexperienced when it comes to this, but I do believe I'm taking my clothes off. You should probably do the same," I tell him with a smile.

  "You just had a fight with your dad and you walked halfway here in the pouring rain. I don't want you doing something you'll regret because you're upset."

  Grabbing onto his hands at my waist, I pull them up to my face and place his palms on my cheeks, holding them in place.

  "You're right. I am upset and I had a bad night, but I would never, ever regret this. Not with you. I'm here because I need you. I'm here because I want you. I'm here because I love you."

  I can't take the words back, and even though I know I should have waited to tell him, I couldn't do it. I need him to know how I feel. I need him to know that this isn't some spur of the moment decision based on my erratic emotions. I may not have planned on this happening tonight, but the fact that his face and his home and his smile are the only images that popped into my head as soon as I walked out of the bakery mean something. He's important to me, and I need him to know that.

  "Say something," I whisper to him as he stands in front of me with his hands on my face and stares into my eyes.

  Maybe this is too much for him. Maybe he's not ready for something like this, and I just screwed everything up by telling him I love him. No matter what, I will never regret telling him how I feel. I'm done keeping things bottled up inside of me—the good and the bad.

  "Say it again," he replies softly as his thumb brushes back and forth over my cheekbone.

  "I love you," I reply without hesitation.

  "Oh thank God."

  His lips crash to mine, and I smile against his mouth as he wraps his arms around me and pulls me against him. When his tongue brushes against mine, I can't help but whimper. I love kissing this man, I love touching this man, and I don't want to wait any longer.

  I don't know if he senses my impatience or it's just a mixture of his own, but Zander quickly lifts me up against him, and I wrap my legs around his waist as he turns and heads down the hall toward his bedroom, never breaking the kiss.

  He stumbles with me in the dark hallway, smacking into the wall every few feet as we struggle to remove his wet shirt in between kisses and laughs. When we finally make it into his room, he sets me down on my feet next to the bed, and we help each other remove the rest of our wet clothes. In the darkness of the bedroom, I can just make out his features from the streetlamp shining in through the window. He smiles at me before scooping me back up and then laying me down gently on top of his bed, quickly putting on a condom before covering my body with his own.

  He takes some of his weight off of me by leaning up on his elbows, and I wrap my
legs around his hips to keep him as close to me as possible.

  "Say it one more time," he whispers as he stares down at me.

  I chuckle before looking at him in complete seriousness and repeating the words one more time. "I love you, Zander."

  He lets out a sigh of contentment and rests his forehead against my own.

  "I have loved you from the first moment I saw you."

  I want to cry at the sweetness of his words, but now isn't the time for crying. Now isn't the time for being sad. Now is the time to live…and be happy.

  "Are you sure about this?"

  Butterflies flap wildly in my stomach at his words. Not only does he love me, he cares about me. He wants me to be okay, and I know without a doubt that if I changed my mind, none of that would be different.

  But I am not about to change my mind. I want him more than I could ever even tell him.

  "I am more sure about this than anything in my life."

  He closes his eyes and sighs peacefully again, shifting his hips so I can feel him against me and know without a doubt how much he wants this and wants me.

  Sliding my hands through his hair, I pull his mouth to mine as he positions himself between my legs and slowly begins to push himself inside me.

  I wince at the shock of pain, and he pulls away from my lips to whisper apologetic words and professions of love against my mouth. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I love you."

  He pauses his movements and holds himself steady above me. I lean up and kiss him again, needing the connection of his lips against mine to calm my nerves.

  "It's okay. I'm okay," I tell him quietly as I command my body to relax and remind myself that it won't hurt for long. "Please, I'm okay. Keep going."

  The pained look and worry on his face about hurting me melts my nerves, and I tighten my legs around his waist and pull him deeper into me until he pushes past the barrier and I can let out the breath I'd been holding.

  The burning discomfort quickly eases as we move against each other, and Zander keeps reminding me how much he loves me, over and over. He touches and kisses me everywhere he can reach, and it's not long before the pleasure of being with him like this erases the pain and I can enjoy what is happening. He moves his hand between us, and with feather-light touches, he ignites a fire inside of me that has me clutching tightly onto his hair and throwing my head back on the pillow while he kisses my neck. Nothing has ever felt this amazing; nothing compares to feeling Zander touch me and move inside of me. I never expected my first time to be like this. I never expected to feel anything other than relief to get it out of the way. I never want this to end, and I'm shocked to feel my release slowly creeping up on me as he moves his body and his hand torturously slow against me.

  "Zander, Zander…"

  I chant his name over and over as my toes curl and pleasure shoots through every inch of my body. I don't even recognize the sounds that are coming out of my mouth as I push my hips frantically against his to prolong everything I'm feeling. He swallows my cries with his lips as he begins moving faster and harder, and I wrap my arms tightly around his shoulders to keep him as close to me as possible. He's strong and solid, warm and gentle, and I want to stay wrapped around him forever.

  He tells me he loves me over and over through his own release, and I hold on to him as securely as I can, never wanting to let him go or have this moment end.

  Zander finally collapses on top of me, and I smile happily feeling all of his weight and the racing of his heart against my chest. After a few minutes, he rolls off of me, leaning over the side of the bed to dispose of the condom in the trashcan. He quickly slides back next to me and wraps his arms around my waist, turning me to my side and pulling my back against his chest. Reaching down, he pulls the covers up over both of us and then snuggles against me, smothering my cheek, my neck, and my shoulder with tiny kisses until I giggle when he gets to a ticklish spot.

  "I love you, Addison," he whispers against my ear before resting his head on the pillow behind me.

  Closing my eyes, I slide my fingers through his hand resting on my waist and pull his arm tighter around me, drifting off to sleep faster than I have in a long time.

  "I know you used to be a completely different person, Addison. It's hard to find that person again when so many heavy things keep getting piled on top of your shoulders," Dr. Thompson tells me as she holds her coffee cup close to her mouth and then blows gently on the hot liquid. This week's cup had little blue snowflakes on it with the words "Let it Snow" painted in silver and blue. I glance out the window at the bright sunshine and wonder why she's using a winter mug when it's almost eighty degrees out.

  "You had friends and you had fun and you were carefree. Excuse my language, but it's time to shit or get off the pot, as they say," Dr. Thompson tells me with a smile.

  I'm momentarily stunned by her choice of phrases. My mom used to say that to me and my father all the time, and even though I'm used to Dr. Thompson's bluntness by now, this one comes out of left field.

  "You're doing good and you're forming healthy relationships. Keep that momentum going, Addison. Be a good friend; be the wonderful, thoughtful person you always used to be and that I know you still can be. The more you do it, the easier it will be to get your old self back."

  Walking through the hospital halls, I can't help but smile. Even though I'm worried about Meg, and I'm nervous to see her, all I can think about is Zander and our night last night. When I woke up this morning, I was still wrapped in his arms and it was very difficult to force myself to get out of bed. All I wanted to do was stay in bed with him snuggled under the covers and forget about the outside world, but I can't do that right now. When I checked my phone, I had a text from Meg saying she could have visitors and three missed calls from my dad. Right now, I only have the strength to deal with one crisis at a time, so my dad will have to wait.

  "Knock, knock," I announce as I stick my head into the open doorway of Meg's room. She's sitting up in bed, flipping through the channels on the television, and gives me a big smile as I enter the room.

  "It's about time you got here. The cable channels in this hospital suck ass."

  I laugh as I pull the extra chair in the room closer to the bed and take a seat while she powers off the television.

  "Sooooo, what's new?" I ask with a smile, taking a page from Zander's book and trying to lighten the situation a little. I want Meg to feel comfortable talking to me. I want her to know that I'm her friend and I'm here for her. It's time to change how I act around people, and I want to start with her.

  "Oh, you know, the usual. Just a little depression and suicide attempt to brighten everyone's day," she says with an uncomfortable chuckle.

  The silence hangs in the air between us as Meg pulls at the frayed edges of the blanket that covers her legs.

  "What happened, Meg?" I ask her softly.

  She lets out a huge sigh and leans back against the pillows, her face turning up toward the ceiling as she contemplates her words.

  "Two years ago I was in college. I was going to school for elementary education. I still lived at home and commuted back and forth to classes," she explains quietly, her eyes still trained on the ceiling tiles. "One night things got a little out of hand at a party, and I had way too much to drink. My parents always said I could call them any time I got myself into trouble, so I called them to pick me up since all of my friends were just as wasted as I was, if not more. On the way back home, my dad was lecturing me about drinking, and I said something sarcastic. He turned around to look at me, and the next thing I knew, everything around us exploded. He went left of center and we hit a truck head on. They were killed instantly. I walked away with a sprained wrist and a cut on my head. I had two little injuries, and they had their lives taken away. My extended family wanted nothing to do with me after that. I was already the black sheep because I was a little wild, but this just proved to everyone what a bad seed I was. I killed my parents…two years ago yesterday."

  Meg
finally turns her face toward me, and all I can think about doing is wrapping her in my arms and telling her everything will be okay.

  So I do.

  Getting up out of my chair, I perch myself on the edge of her hospital bed.

  "Move over," I command as I swing my legs up on top of the blankets.

  "Are we going to cuddle? Ooooh, can we spoon?" she asks with a laugh as she scoots over on the bed.

  "Shhhhh, don't ruin the moment," I tell her as I wrap one arm around her shoulder and pull her next to me. She rests her head on my shoulder and we sit together quietly on her hospital bed for a long time.

  "I'm so sorry for what happened to your parents. It's not your fault. And your family are a bunch of jackasses," I say angrily, breaking the silence.

  Meg lets out a little laugh and wraps her arm around my waist.

  "Can I give you their phone numbers so you can call them and tell them that?"

  We laugh together, but I hope she knows that I would do exactly that and more for her. I would drive to each of their houses and tell them off if it would make things better for her.

  "I'm sorry. I was a jerk to you," I whisper.

  "You weren't a jerk. You had your own crap to deal with. And it's not like I offered up this information about myself. You didn't know."

  "But I should have known. I never used to be such a crappy friend. I used to be the person everyone went to with their problems…" I trail off.

  "So what happened? I know your dad kind of sucks. Or at least he used to. He seems pretty cool to me, but I don't know him that well aside from working with him the last few weeks," Meg says with a shrug.

  I don't even hesitate to tell her my story. I owe her an explanation so she understands that I used to be a better person and that I'm trying to get that back, little by little.

  I tell her about losing my mom, but I don't go into too many details. It doesn't seem right to focus too much on my problems when she's the one in the hospital, but I still want her to understand. She had an inkling about my dad from bits and pieces of conversations she overheard in the last year, but she never wanted to pry so she never came right out and asked.