by Jay McLean
“I don’t know what we’re doing.”
“Are you… I mean do you have feelings for her?”
“Of course I do.”
He sighed.
“What?”
“Just be careful.”
“What would you know?”
“Nothin’,” he said quickly. Too quickly. Which meant that he wanted to say more.
“Just say whatever’s on your mind.”
“You won’t want to hear it.”
“That’s never stopped you before.”
He pulled over on the side of the road and turned to me, but didn’t speak right away.
I raised my eyebrows and waited.
“All I’m saying is that she’s young. She’s vulnerable, and she seems pretty naive. From the outside looking in, there are two ways this can go. First,” he said, counting off on his fingers, “she’s going to sleep with you because she thinks it’s her ticket out of this mess. Or, secondly, she’s going to develop feelings for you—feelings that you’ll always question.”
I gave him my full attention. “What do you mean?”
“I mean… would she have those feelings if you weren’t the only thing in her life that felt safe? Would you still like her if she wasn’t—I don’t know how to put it without sounding like an asshole—easily accessible?”
I stayed quiet, letting his words sink in.
“And that’s just the immediate situation, Nate. What happens in the future? When all this blows over, and it’s time to free her. Or what happens when she gets sick of being locked up and starts to hate you for putting her there in the first place, because you know that’ll happen. You saw how she was last night. It’s inevitable.”
22
Bailey
If I thought being cooped up in the house was bad, it was nothing compared to being in a windowless room with nothing but a mattress on the floor. The counting in my head stopped at two hundred and restarted again. Over and over this went on, and none of the times brought me closer to knowing anything.
I tried to sleep to make the days go faster, but when your head’s filled with too many questions and your mind can’t switch off, sleep is impossible. I wondered what Nate was doing, where he was going, and stupidly, who he was with. In the confines of the house we could be whomever we wanted, but out there, I had no idea who he truly was.
I sat up in bed when I heard footsteps upstairs. My initial fear was replaced with excitement when the basement door opened, and Nate came down. He stood at the end of the mattress and looked down at me, arching a single brow. “Have you been in bed all day?”
I made a show of looking around the room at the nothingness that filled it. “What else am I going to do?”
He huffed out a breath dramatically and threw himself on the mattress, landing on his back next to me. “Fuck,” he clipped. “This is so uncomfortable.” He reached up and moved the hair away from my face. His eyes were soft, his brow bunched as if he was questioning something, hoping that he’d see the answers in me. Whatever excitement I felt fled when he sighed and averted his gaze.
“Did you have a bad day?” I asked.
He shook his head, his eyes distant.
“Did I do something?”
“No,” he said through another sigh, and then he cleared his throat and sat up a little, facing me. “Did you ever date, Bailey?”
“No. Why?”
He shrugged. “Just wondering what kind of guys you’re into.”
“I’m not really into any kind of guy…” I said slowly. “Why? What’s this about?”
“Nothing.”
“Nate… what’s going on?”
He tapped my knee twice, but still refused to look at me. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just wondering what’s happening here.”
“Here?”
“Between us, I mean. I don’t really know what to make of it.”
I shrugged, not knowing what to say. I opened my mouth, willing words to leave me. They never did.
“Do you think—” he broke off and released a breath.
I tried to kiss him, but he pulled away.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m just confused, I guess. I’ve had a shitty day, and I need to clear my head, and I need to get out of this fuckin’ room.”
“Okay,” I whispered, trying to hide the hurt in my voice.
He stood up and left, never once looking back, and I returned to the counting, fighting the tears and the voices in my head.
Tiny came down and brought me food. I administered my meds on my own for the first time. And then I got back into bed and embraced the numbness that would help me get through the pain and the heartache that seemed to be my life.
*
I sat up when the basement door opened hours later. After a moment, Nate stood over me.
“What are you doing?” he asked casually.
“Trying to sleep.”
“Can we talk?”
My anger flared. I lay back down and flipped to my side, pushing my face into the pillow. “You can do whatever you want. It’s your house.”
He leaned against the wall next to the mattress and rubbed his eyes. “I’m sorry, Bailey.”
“I don’t care,” I said, voice strained from holding back tears. I hated the way he could do this to me, make me hate him and want him at the same time.
“Can you at least sit up and look at me?”
“No.”
“Please?”
I sat up quickly and glared at him. “What do you want, Nate?”
He licked his lips, his eyes locked with mine. After a moment, he looked away. He could never look me in the eye when he knew he was hurting me. He swallowed loudly, his voice husky when he said, “Bailey, I don’t know what to make of any of this…”
“Any of what?”
“This.” He pointed his finger between us. “You and me.” He paused for a beat, gathering his thoughts. “I question why we’re doing what we’re doing. And as much as I don’t want to, I have to question everything.” His voice shook when he added, “You need to be honest with me, Bailey.”
“I’ve never not been honest with you. I have no reason to lie.”
“Are you using me?” he asked, the huskiness gone and replaced with anger. “Are you with me because you think it’ll weaken me to let you go?”
“No!” I snapped. “Jesus Christ, Nate, what the hell kind of person do you think I am?”
“I think you’re desperate and that you’d—”
“Fuck you!”
“Goddammit, Bailey.” He threw his hands in the air and started pacing. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stop missing you or wanting you, and it’s wrong. Right? To feel that?” But he wasn’t asking me, he was asking himself.
I inhaled sharply, my heart pounding, breaking, healing—all at once.
“It’s like you’ve infiltrated my goddamn mind. I used to be focused. I used to be able to think straight. Whatever the situation, whatever choices I had to make, I could make them. I never second-guessed myself! And then you come along, and you flip my entire world upside down. I don’t know what to do, what to think.” He grasped at his hair and tugged harshly. “I can’t fuckin’ deal, Bailey. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”
“So you’re mad at me? That’s not my fault!”
“I’m not mad at you!” He took a few calming breaths and repeated, “I’m not mad at you. I’m just frustrated.”
“And how do you think I feel, Nate? I’m locked up in here all day, every day. It was bad enough when I was stuck in your house, now I’m confined to your basement. I don’t see the light of day. I’m stuck here with nothing but my thoughts and insecurities haunting me. I don’t know what time it is. I don’t know when you’ll be home or if you’ll be home. I spend all goddamn day worrying about what you’re doing out there, and I have no fuckin’ way to get to you. What would I do if something happened to you?” I took a calming breath. “You’re the only thin
g I know, Nate.”
“Exactly!” He sighed and squatted in front of me. His voice softened when he said, “I’m all you know, Bai.”
“So what?”
“So what if I spend my days thinking about you? Falling for you? And you give me what I want because I’m all you know?”
“That’s not what I meant,” I whispered, drowning in the clarity of his admission. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you. All I know is that these feelings I have for you… I’ve never felt them before. Not even the slightest. And if I thought I could decipher what love was, then I’d probably tell you that’s what it is. It’s just that I don’t—”
“Bailey…” he interrupted.
“What?”
He leaned forward and linked his fingers with mine. “That’s all,” he said. “That’s everything I wanted to hear.”
I looked up at him, fear and confusion and hurt and every single damn emotion clouding my vision.
He smiled warmly, and then he shrugged. “I guess I don’t know love for me, either.”
My eyebrows pinched. “That doesn’t make sense.”
Shaking his head, he laughed once. “I guess not.”
“Are you saying that you—”
“I don’t know what I’m saying,” he said, cutting me off. “Just kiss me already.”
“But we just had a fight!”
He smirked. “That was a fight?”
“Wasn’t it?”
“We’re probably going to fight a lot…” he said, eyebrows raised. “And it’ll be hard because…” he waved a finger around the room, “…there’s no escaping each other.”
“So what do we do?”
“We end them all like this.” And then he kissed me. Once. Twice. And by the third time, he was in my bed next to me, under the covers, kissing my jaw, my neck, my chest. My fingers found his hair, lacing, and tugging.
“Nate?” I said into his mouth.
He ran his tongue along my lips and responded with an, “uh?”
“Have you ever had sex?”
He choked on a laugh but stopped the instant he looked up and saw the seriousness in my face.
“Well… have you?”
His mouth moved from across my cheek and to the spot right below my ear. “I really don’t want to talk about it while we’re doing this.”
My hands flattened on his chest, and I pushed him away with so much force he landed on his back. Leaning up on my elbow, I looked down at him. “Have you?”
“Bailey, I’m a twenty-two-year-old guy. Of course I’ve had sex.”
“How much?”
“How much what?”
“Huh?”
“Times or people?”
My eyes widened.
“Actually, no, don’t clarify because I can’t answer either.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“Because I don’t know.”
“Because you’ve lost count?”
“Yes.”
“Well, at least you’re honest,” I said, climbing to straddle his lap.
He linked his hands behind his head and smiled up at me. “That’s it? No third degree?”
I shrugged. “Are you having sex with anyone now?”
He looked at our joined parts. “Not that I’m aware of,” he joked.
Slapping his chest, I said, “Not right now. I mean…” I averted my gaze, trying to hide my true insecurity. “I mean, when you’re out… working. Are you—”
“No, Bailey,” he cut in. “I haven’t been with anyone since you moved in. I swear. Do you honestly think I would?”
“I don’t know what you do during the day, I only have you at night.”
He laughed. “You have me at night?”
I nodded as I leaned down to kiss him. “Yup. I own you,” I joked, but he didn’t seem to get it, he just placed his hands on my waist and kissed me back.
“I’m yours,” he murmured, his tongue swiping mine as he covered my mouth with his. I pressed into him, feeling his hardness rub against me. A warm sensation flooded the pit of my stomach, then spread through the rest of me while goose bumps broke out, and his fingers tightened. He pushed up with his hips. “Fuck, babe,” he moaned, pulling away.
I sat up, causing me to press harder against him. “What?”
He didn’t answer. His dark eyes, clouded with lust, peered down to where we were connected. He looked back up at me and bit down on his lip. Then he moved his hand from my waist to my stomach, lower and lower. He didn’t touch me, though. No—it was worse. A moan escaped me as I watched his hand slowly creep into his gym shorts. He adjusted himself, the outline of his dick prominent. I’d never been more turned on in my life. In fact, until Nate, I’d never been turned on at all. I fingered his waistband, moving from side to side. I wanted to touch him, to feel what he’d just felt. His hands were gentle as they grasped my wrists. “Bailey?”
My eyes snapped to his.
I moved on him, rubbing his entire length between my legs. My body took over my mind and my physical needs, my wants, consumed me.
“What are you doing?” he asked, a slight smirk on his face.
I let out a frustrated moan and climbed off him, then lay on my back next to him and stared up at the ceiling. I covered my eyes with the back of my hand, trying to hide my embarrassment.
The warmth of Nate’s chuckle hit my forehead while he removed my hand. He was sitting up, his smile broad and unrestrained. “What’s wrong?”
I shoved him away from me.
He laughed and moved back to his side, facing me.
I did the same. He still had the same goofy grin plastered on his face, and I couldn’t help but smile back. “What?” he asked, moving closer.
I changed the subject. “Is Nate short for something?”
“Nathaniel,” he told me, his voice low. “But nobody’s called me that since my mom died.”
“Does it mean something?”
“It means given of God.”
“It’s perfect,” I whispered.
Moments of silence passed before he wrapped his arms around me, holding me close to him. Resting his chin on the top of my head, he said, “Sometimes you get this look on your face. It’s like you’re completely lost, and you don’t know how to act or who to be. But then you have this fearlessness to you, this bravery, and I don’t understand how you’ve survived what you have, but I’m so damn grateful you did.”
I pulled back and looked up at him. His eyes were distant, lost in a sea of thoughts. I reached up and ran my thumb across his bottom lip the way I’d seen him do so many times, and he looked down, attempting to smile. “You’re kind of beautiful, Nate.”
He rolled his eyes and moved away from my touch.
“I’m serious.” I kissed his chin quickly. “And I love it when you smile. You should do it more often.”
“I didn’t really have a reason to smile until you came along. You make me forget what my life is and who I’m supposed to be. You make me happy, Bailey.”
23
Nate
Days passed, and we fell into a routine. I’d work every day just like any other. And then I’d go home, forget my real life, and Bailey and I would play house as if our situation was totally normal.
I hated the days, but the nights made up for it.
Yeah, I was pissed someone tried to break in. But getting angry and jumping to conclusions wouldn’t solve shit. Tiny and I had to be smart, act as if we had no idea that it had happened, because if Bailey wasn’t there, we probably wouldn’t even know. Tiny and I put up a front but behind the scenes, we were working overtime getting the security tightened and trying to figure out who did it, and most importantly, why.
Take into account that PJ was still running his mouth, the missing person’s report was still active, and somebody had actually seen her in my house… yeah, it was snowballing, and we couldn’t do shit to slow it down. The only thing we could do was keep her hidden and keep her safe.
I kept my personal life out of conversations with Tiny. He’d told me his thoughts and he’d made me question mine. And as much as I knew he was just looking out for me, he’d been wrong about all of it. It had placed a wall between us. We talked business and only business. Or at least, that’s what I thought until he turned to me from his seat while driving me home. “You really like her, huh?”
I kept my eyes on my phone. “Who?”
“The Queen of England, asshole. You know who.”
I shoved my phone in my pocket. “Why? You feel like judging me some more?”
“I was just doing my job.”
“That’s not your job, Tiny.”
“But you calling me at three in the morning to come pick you up from some random girl’s house is my job?”
I stayed quiet.
“You’re my best friend, Nate. The last thing I want is for you to get hurt. I can protect you physically, but I can’t do shit about your heart.” He cleared his throat and added, “So I was thinking I could work on the basement a bit.” He eyed me sideways. “I know it’s tough—for Bailey, I mean.”
He didn’t mean Bailey. He meant me.
“Do you think it would help her?” he asked.
“Why do you want to help her?”
He shrugged as he pulled up to my gate. “Because helping her means helping you,” he said simply.
*
So, for the next couple of weeks, we made a home for Bailey in a place that was once my living hell. In the back of my mind, I knew it was wrong; to give her this sense of hope when the future was so uncertain. But there was a spark in her eyes, one I hadn’t seen before, so I chose to ignore everything else.
I chose to ignore reality.
*
Bailey kept her eyes on mine as she jumped up and down on her new bed, her long dark hair flowing with the movements. She smiled, unforced and completely unrestricted and the sight of it alone did something strange to my heart. Something I couldn’t ignore.
“Nate,” she huffed out, her knees bent as she pushed off the mattress. “You should try it!”
I stood at the side of the bed and looked up at her. Then I shook my head, though admittedly, I was tempted. “Bai, I’m not jumping on the bed.”