Beyond the Seduction

by M.A. Stacie

  “Fuck this,” Trace snarled, dropping his shopping onto the floor. He turned on the heel of his boot, stomping over to her.

  Shae scuttled across the room until her back hit the mirror wall. Her gaze darted to the door, then returned to Trace.

  “I’m not doing this,” he growled as he towered above her. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Her nostrils flared, a sure sign that she was pissed at him. He ignored it and continued to say what had been bubbling inside him for months. “I can’t do this anymore.”

  “Tough. It’s not about you. It’s about me. I don’t want you here, Trace. Leave me alone.”

  “No.”

  She winced at the fierceness of his tone. In any other circumstance, he would have backed down. This one was a different story. He refused to let her blame herself and wither away from regret and loneliness. She was better than this.

  “You don’t get to decide. This isn’t your issue, so go away. Let’s do what we’ve been doing for the last two months—stay away from one another. We’re better that way.”

  He quirked a brow. “Really? How so? Because I’ll be honest and say it was all a bit shitty for me.”

  “Would you stop?” she shouted, throwing her hands up. Her cheeks mottled. “Everything was better when we were apart. I didn’t need to think about you. I didn’t need to . . .”

  “What?”

  Looking up to the ceiling, her jaw jutted out. “It was better when you were gone because then I could stop remembering.”

  Her response confused him. He’d had very little to do with her mother, so why was his distance better in helping her forget? “I’m confus—”

  “When you’re not around I can block out how we were together. I focus on the hurt and the pain I caused my mom.” She thumped her fist against her chest, her expression contorting as though she was feeling that pain. “You distract me when I should be grieving.”

  Trace’s stomach plummeted. He should never have walked away. Exhaling, he dropped to the floor and softened his voice. “Babe, beating yourself up isn’t grieving. And pushing your feelings about us to one side isn’t all that great either. You’re starting to scare the shit out of me. You’re not processing a goddamn thing. You’re storing it all in there.” He pointed to her head. “And it’s swirling around and around. You’re making yourself sick. All you’re focusing on is that one moment in time. A moment that you had no control over. No matter what you tell yourself.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  He snorted. “Somehow I knew you were going to say that. You’re not thinking clearly. Some of that is because you haven’t had anyone to help you process it all. You’ve hid.”

  “Kate’s been around,” she sneered.

  “Oh please! I already know Kate’s been to your place. I know because she called me crying. She wanted me to help you. You weren’t hearing her. So I’d prefer it if you didn’t make out like you had loads of people to hear you. You didn’t. You’ve been alone to stew in your own corrupt thoughts.”

  “You’re wrong. I’ve been mourning my mom.” A tear dropped onto her knee. She swiped at her face.

  “I don’t doubt that. Not for one minute. I’ve been to your house a few times over the last couple of weeks. You’ve not been there so I went looking for you.” He swallowed, knowing his next statement might tip the scales from semi-calm to annoyed again. “I found you at your mother’s grave, curled up on the grass. You were talking to her.”

  Her eyes blazed. “And that’s wrong?”

  “Jesus, Shae, no.”

  “So what’s your point?”

  “That we’re going about this all wrong. You need me, Shae. You need Kate, too. Being alone is driving you crazy. I want to help. If you’ll let me.”

  Shae huffed, tugging the cuffs of her top down to envelop her hands. Another tear dropped onto the fabric, turning the spot a darker color than the rest of it. She was tearing him apart.

  “Talk to me. Please just speak to me.”

  Shae snapped, lurching forward and shoving at his shoulders. He fell back, and his head hit the wood floor. She began to shout as he blinked, momentarily dazed.

  “I never asked for your help. I don’t want it. So fuck off! Go. Leave me the hell alone.” Still shouting, she walked over to the window, keeping her back to him while he sat up. “This is my building, and I never asked you to come in here. Maybe we need to cut ties and you should find somewhere else to live? That way you wouldn’t feel the need to stick your nose in my business.”

  “I’m not cutting a damn thing, and that hurt.”

  “Good. It should make you think twice before you demand I do anything.”

  She was so angry—so upset with her situation. It took his breath away, and the crushing need to calm her weighed on him. Every rapid beat of his heart pulsed with the urge to make it all okay for her. He had to get past her wall.

  “I’m not leaving you again. You need me, babe.”

  The room filled with her high-pitched laugh. “What I need is for you to do what you’ve been doing for the last eight weeks. Leave me alone. We don’t work. You said so yourself.”

  “I lied.” He pushed himself up and moved across to her. Shae stood her ground. “My head was so crazy fucked up back then. I didn’t see what I had—what was standing right in front of me.”

  “Yeah, messed up is right.” She poked at his chest with her finger. “You were so screwed up that I was with you, babysitting your sorry ass when . . .”

  Shae stopped, her hand flying to her mouth to stop the rest of her thoughts tumbling out. However, he didn’t need her to verbalize them. Trace had known for some time what Shae was thinking. She was wrestling with those thoughts and that was why she refused to speak to him. It was also the reason she wouldn’t be able to move on. She had to voice what she was internalizing. Otherwise it would continue to rot inside her.

  Throwing his arms out wide, he raised his voice, goading her. “And finally we’re here. We’re at the point we should have been weeks ago. Say it. Open your mouth and say what you’re thinking.”

  Shae shook her head.

  “Say it!” he bellowed. “Blame me. Blame me for it all. You were with me, not your mom—me! And that’s what you can’t get past.”

  Her chin quivered, and he watched her throat constrict. Her gaze darted around his face, though she remained stoic. As he reached over to her, she flinched back. He didn’t give up. Raising his hand, he placed it over her heart and stooped until their eyes could meet.

  Shae began to cry, small silent tears at first but then her shoulders began to shake.

  “I gave you space in the hope that you’d resolve what happened that night. I was so wrong.”

  Gulping, Shae hiccupped and looked down at his hand.

  The absolute sorrow she was experiencing had every cell in his body pulsing to comfort her. “Fuck, Shae, allow yourself to feel it. Don’t deny yourself.” A tear hit his wrist, with another following right after. “It needs to come out. Feel that hurt rip right through you. I promise I’ll catch you this time. I promise you’ll have me the entire time.”

  The shaking began at her shoulders, and second by second, it reverberated through her body. She attempted to say something, though the words were drowned out by her sobbing. A moment later, her knees buckled and she started to fall to the floor. Trace kept his promise, his arms banded around her and he eased her gently down.

  “Hush now. I’ve got you.”

  Shae clung to him, gripping his shirt with a force he didn’t know she possessed. Her shoulders shook, her voice broke. Her pain tore him apart.

  “I know,” she croaked out, still holding him close.

  He took a chance and kissed the top of her head. “Know what?”

  “It wasn’t you. I just . . .”

  “You’re stuck on that moment—that split second you made a decision. I get it. You’ve thought about a million what ifs. I’ve thought about them, too. I’ll apologize for
it—will do it every day from now on, if you want.”

  Shae let go of his top and swiped at her cheeks. “No point. It’s done. You weren’t to know.”

  “Neither were you. Your mom was a whirlwind. She made her own decisions. I know there’s been talk of dementia and that she was sick.”

  “The doctors are sure.”

  “Okay, though have you spoken to your dad about what really went down that night? Did she seem . . . confused to him?”

  “I think so. I don’t remember what he said that night.”

  “You’re not talking to him either.” He made it a statement, rather than a question.

  “No reason to.” She stared at him, her green eyes sharp and serious. “Don’t even bring it up. It’s never going to happen. Ever.”

  Knowing when to quit, and understanding her well enough, he dropped the subject and pulled her back into a hug. The tension in his body released when she let him. She even rested her head underneath his chin.

  Trace listened to her sniffle, calculating how to move things forward between them. Shae felt so far away even though she was right next to him. He had to reach her, because he couldn’t put an end to them. They were good together, and could be again. They just had to try.

  “Why did you come here today?” he asked, beating down the hope that it had been to see him.

  “To be with her. She’s not there at home anymore. It’s empty. I thought . . . I thought she’d be here because the place has been locked up.”

  “You didn’t find her?”

  “No.” She pulled back and looked up at him. “I found you.”

  He offered her a weak smile and prayed she didn’t slap it from his face. “We keep banging into one another when we need someone the most.”

  “I thought I was better alone. I didn’t need you.”

  He liked the honesty of their conversation, and feeling somewhat more relaxed, he began stroking his hand up and down her spine. Touching her again, so freely, restored balance to his world. He’d missed her so fucking much.

  She cleared her throat and met his gaze again. “Guess I was wrong.”

  “Honestly? Because you seemed certain when you were trying to kick my ass out of here.”

  “I have no clue what the fuck to do with my thoughts and emotions. It’s been months since my mom passed. And yet, I’m in limbo. I’m stuck.”

  “Let me help.”

  “You say that like it’s so easy. Yet you have your own baggage to sort through. There’s only so much friends should do for one another.”

  Trace gave a snort of derision. “You’ve got some shitty friends if you think that. And we’re more than that.”

  Tilting her head to the side, Shae asked, “Are we? We’ve been so lost in ourselves. Even when we were kind of together we had our own crap getting in the way.”

  “So we deal with it all. I’m getting there. I’ve had D and Kyran helping. I can even say Emmie and Tatum’s names without my heart being torn from my chest. Progress?”

  “Yeah, it is. Well done. I suppose I need the same guidance.”

  He held out his hand between them. “Take it. I can be the one. I wasn’t lying when I said I’d catch you. You just have to let me.”

  Chapter 27

  Shae looked down at his hand, wondering if it could be that easy. She’d tried being friends with him. It hadn’t gone well for either of them. And sex had confused the situation further.

  “We’ve tried that,” Shae said, still looking at his hand. “We don’t do too well as just friends. The . . . tension kinda builds.”

  Trace smirked, the tilt of his lips sending sparks of familiar arousal through her body. Touching him wasn’t a good idea if just looking at him caused such a reaction.

  “The tension was always meant to build between you and me, babe. It took me far too long to realize it, and when I did you were in no state to deal with the truth.”

  “I-I’m not now,” she replied, though a small seed of hope, maybe even happiness, had begun to sprout within her.

  Trace offered her his hand again. “You are more than ever. I got it wrong before. I should have told you anyway. It would have helped then, and I think it’ll help now.”

  Shae swallowed back a new wave of tears. Emotion was swamping her. The conversation between them was building in intensity—Trace was heading toward something. She could hope it was on a par with her feelings, but then she’d been setting herself up for more heartache. She and Trace were never meant to be. She’d resolved that.

  “Are we going to start being honest with one another?” he asked, finally giving up and dropping his hand into his lap.

  “You want to do it now? Trace, I’m a wreck, yet you want to go over why we ended and what didn’t work?”

  Blowing out a long breath, he shoved his fingers through his hair. “Not what I was ready to talk about.” He fixed his blue eyes on hers. “And we ended because I couldn’t give you what you wanted. Then.”

  Her heart crashed against her ribs, and her head began to spin. She’d come here to feel close to her mom, and yet she’d gotten what she couldn’t bear to hope for. Trace. Sure, she could have reached out to him at any point during their time apart. However, as time wore on, she thought he’d be less receptive to her just showing up. Not that she had any clue what she would have said anyway. She was at a loss now, though there was something that kept coming back to her.

  “You said earlier that you couldn’t do this anymore. What were you talking about?” Shae questioned, a little too high pitched.

  He scrubbed his jaw, the pads of his fingers rasping over his stubble. “Exactly what I said. This.” He gestured from him to her and back again. “Between us. It’s all wrong.”

  Every drop of blood in her body ran cold. She was going to lose him now, too. “You’re moving out? Putting space between us.”

  “What? No. No, that’s not it. Us being apart is the thing—what’s wrong here. I realized so much before your mom died.” She cringed as Trace continued. “We work better than any relationship I’ve ever had. Except the one I have with my sister. We’re wasting time, and it’s pissing me off.”

  His words tumbled out so fast she struggled to wrap her head around them. “I don’t understand. You’re not moving out?”

  “No, babe, I’m not. Well, not unless you’re evicting me.”

  “So what are you saying?” She held her breath, bracing herself for whatever rejection Trace was about to dish out, but what he said next took the wind right out of her lungs.

  “I’m saying I love you. I’m saying I want us to figure this shit out and be together. I’m saying we need to figure ourselves out because we’re both fucking miserable.”

  Shae snapped and started to cry again, each sob causing her body to shudder. She replayed his confession over and over in her head, still reluctant to admit the words were real. She had to be hearing things, hoping for more than was there. She’d been horrible to him—writing him out of her life when he offered her his help. Guilt had left her believing she had to live the rest of her life alone. Guilt had eaten away at every part of her and warped any clear thinking she had at that point.

  And even after all that, Trace was here, still offering his helping hand but something else, too. Love.

  There had been a time when she would have been dancing, happy hearing his words. Now she was left confused. Was she ready—strong enough to start this now?

  “Shush,” Trace soothed, rubbing her back. “This isn’t the reaction I was hoping for, you know?”

  His reaction elicited a snort from her. It got mixed up in her tears and ended up creating some sort of weird-ass squeal-grunt. Far from attractive, but then neither was she at the moment.

  “I should have picked my time a little better.”

  “I-it’s not the timing—well, it is, but it’s more about the situation. We’ve tried the together thing, yet we both decided it was wrong. No matter what feelings were involved.”

&n
bsp; “I wasn’t aware of those feelings until you were no longer beside me. I’m not blind. I saw yours every time you looked at me. I thought it was too much for me. I thought I didn’t want it.”

  “And now you do?”

  Trace agreed. “I’ve been trying to tell you for weeks. You shut me out.”

  Shae groaned, her shoulders sagging under the mental pressure. “I thought you were still hung up on your ex. I thought it best if I stayed away.”

  “And you blamed me,” he added.

  Her reaction was instantaneous. “No. Well, maybe at first. A little.” Her stomach clenched with shame. “I was wrong to ever think that it was your fault. Mom was sick. I just couldn’t see it.”

  Trace arched a dark brow. “Blaming yourself now?”

  Shae glowered at him. Her head spun, the entire situation with him had not been expected, and she was trying to catch up. It was difficult to accept what he’d declared when she was still accepting that he was here with her.

  “Talk to me,” he said, keeping his voice low.

  Shae rubbed her temples, a throbbing starting to beat against her skull. “I’m so lost,” she confessed. “I saw her every day and now I have nothing. I’ve tried, but there doesn’t seem to be a way through this.”

  “There is.” He moved next to her, placing his arm over her shoulders. “Time will make this hurt less. Time and good friends. Don’t turn us away. I did, and I made everything worse.”

  “What do I do, Trace?” She wiped away another tear, surprised she had any left. “I do what everyone tells me to—I take it one day at a time. It’s made no difference. The only thing that’s gone is time, not the pain I feel.”