Beautiful Ruin

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Beautiful Ruin Page 15

by Alison Foster


  “Will you go out with me?” he says.

  I shake my head, exasperated. “You know I’m seeing someone.”

  “Yeah, I thought it wouldn’t hurt to try anyway. I wish you would have told me sooner.”

  I have no idea why he assumes I should inform him on what goes on in my personal life but I decide to give him a break. “Well, you know now.”

  “I don’t want to lose your friendship,” he says, avoiding my eyes.

  “You won’t, but Jack, you can’t show up like this. There’s a thing called the phone. And I need my key back.”

  He nods, slowly removing the key from his keychain and handing it back to me. “I don’t even know why I kept it that long,” he says. “I guess a part of me always thought we’d get back together at some point.”

  “You’re an adult, Jack. There are consequences. The childish part of you made you betray us and the childish part tells you we’ll get back together. Couples rarely get back together after they break up. I’m not saying it was your fault alone. I played my part, but it’s time to let it go.”

  “I never wanted to break up. I still love you. Always have.”

  “That’s enough,” I say. “Promise me you won’t try to cross that line. You upset me when you get like this. I have zero interest. Zero.”

  There’s silence between us now. The candles along with the flickering Christmas lights are creating a strange play of light and shadow.

  “I care about you deeply and you know that,” I add.

  My heart goes out to Jack but part of my brain can’t help but worry about what Nate’s doing or thinking right now. I said I’d get rid of Jack, but here I am, allowing him to get closer and closer to me while doing my best to offer him support without pity.

  “I should probably go,” he says.

  “Yeah. There will be a better time.”

  “How about a cup of coffee sometime later in the week?”

  I nod. “Anything you want,” I say. “Do you know I work for Taylor now?”

  “At the shop? Cool. How’s Taylor?”

  “She’s okay. Maybe you should stop by and say hi.”

  “I don’t think I’m one of her favorite people.”

  “Taylor cares for you too, Jack. She always loved your music and your big dreams. That’s what you should be doing. Make more music.”

  I get up and walk to the door. He follows me slowly, with his hands in his pockets. “All right. He’d better treat you good,” he says, nodding in the direction of the bedroom where Nate’s stayed this whole time.

  “He does,” I say as I squeeze his hands. “Take care, Jack.”

  Nate shows up right after I shut the door, naked, sweaty and insanely handsome as usual.

  “I hope you’re happy,” I say. “You humiliated me in front of a sick friend.”

  “Grace, I’m a fucking moron. I’m stupid and jealous and an ass. I don’t know what got into me.”

  “That’s funny, that’s what Jack said. I’m sorry, I don’t know why I kept your key all this time. It sounds like all guys are selfish and territorial.”

  “Why did you say he’s sick?”

  “Because he’s sick. That’s why he was here. To tell me about his diagnosis. And you just worry about your... Never mind.”

  I unplug the Christmas tree and turn the room lights on. The shadows are gone but so is the holiday magic, leaving me empty and defeated. I go around the room blowing out candles, the whole time hearing the words of his friend, Tomas, in my head. I don’t want to feel disconnected from Nate, but I honestly don’t know how to handle my growing fury.

  “Do you feel like I’m holding you back?” I ask him.

  He seems confused. “Hold me back from what?”

  “Your life.”

  “You are my life.”

  “You don’t have to always tell me the things I want to hear.”

  “That’s not what I’m doing, Grace. If I act like an asshole, it’s because I’ve never loved anyone before and, frankly, I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

  Nate has the knack for saying the perfect thing when I’m angry. My heart bursts with affection for him. His earnest desire to improve makes me weak every time. He’s both my strength and my weakness.

  “You do okay,” I say, not ready to let him completely off the hook. I let him hug me because he looks worried and adorable.

  I love his bright eyes and his cute lips and his smooth cheeks. I love his powerful chest and the way his hands support me when my knees weaken. I love his impish grins, the way he tosses my body around like it belongs to him. I love the little scars over his eyebrows and on his ribs, all those things that are uniquely his and therefore mine.

  “Try not to be such an asshole next time,” I tell him sternly.

  “I’m a work in progress,” he says, sensing that he will soon be forgiven.

  In the end, it might be a good thing that Jack knows the truth. His efforts should be directed at staying healthy and moving on with his life, not at trying to rekindle a relationship that belongs solely to the past.

  Chapter 19

  Despite the unexpected addition of Tomas to our dinner with Taylor, I feel elated and excited to have her finally share a meal with Nate and meet him properly. Taylor suggested the Cheesecake Factory and I suggested the one in Pasadena because I enjoy its urban tranquility.

  Those scrumptious, mouthwatering cheesecakes at the front window are the only things guaranteed to get Taylor to ignore her healthy regime. It’s good for her to give herself a break once in a while.

  Tomas was added to the mix at the last moment as he showed up at the apartment minutes before we left.

  “We were not properly introduced,” Tomas says holding his hand out until Taylor lifts her right hand suspiciously. He holds her hand lightly like an eighteenth century gentleman. “Tomas,” he says. “It’s a pleasure.”

  “Taylor,” she says.

  I pull her down on the bench to sit next to me in the waiting area. I can’t help but notice the sparkle in her eyes. Nate and Tomas remain standing and begin a conversation among themselves.

  Taylor leans over to me. “Is he like a vampire or something?”

  “More than you know,” I say.

  “Cool,” she says excited. “He has that born long ago vibe.”

  “Well, I’d agree he gets old fast.”

  “You don’t like him,” Taylor says the obvious. “That’s a turn on.”

  I shake my head. “You’re messed up.”

  “Totally,” she says proudly.

  Taylor points at the white chocolate raspberry truffle cheesecake in the window. “What the hell is that?” she says for all to hear. “Just saying the words makes your mouth water with anticipation.”

  “There must be a special hell for whoever invented cheesecake,” I say.

  “There’s a special kind of hell for everyone,” Tomas says. “Mine is listening to women talking about calories.”

  The server beckons us before I can respond. Nate holds me back for a second. “Hey, don’t let him fool you,” he says. “He’s a lot nicer than he lets on.”

  “If that’s true, he deserves the Oscar,” I say.

  “He saved my life once,” Nate says with pleading eyes.

  “All right, I’ll keep an open mind,” I say, just to shut him up.

  Taylor ends up sitting across from me next to Tomas. As I open the menu, she winks at me happily. I wonder if that means she’s found her next fucked-up, short-term boyfriend. I reluctantly notice that he is visually pleasing to most of the female population. Not Nate hot, but close.

  “What are you having?” I ask Taylor.

  “I already told the guy who sat us. Greek olives with feta cheese,” she says before she turns her attention to Nate. “It’s so nice to finally meet you properly,” she tells him. “Grace has told me so many contradictory things about you, I didn’t know what to expect.”

  What the hell is she telling him? Contrad
ictory things?

  “It’s not Grace’s fault, I’m a walking contradiction,” Nate assures her.

  Apparently, he thinks it perfectly normal that I should give my best friend conflicting information about him.

  “Hmm, that’s gracious of you but now that I’m here talking with you, I don’t see it,” Taylor says.

  “And what do you see?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” she says with a devilish wink.

  Nate laughs. She bats her eyelashes at him innocently. “Let’s get one thing straight. If I so much as see a frown on Grace’s face, I’ll cut you.”

  “Really?” Nate says amused.

  “Big time,” Taylor says eyeing the menu. I reach over and slap her hand.

  “Taylor is as subtle as a sledgehammer,” I tell everyone.

  Nate takes my hand and places it on his thigh. “You know, Taylor, it goes both ways. You do anything to put my girl in danger at the fragrance shop and you’re going to have to answer to me.”

  “The fragrance shop?” Taylor tilts her neck and widens her eyes.

  “Ah, Nate honey, it’s called an aromatherapy shop,” I explain.

  Now Nate winks at Taylor. “Of course it is,” he says.

  “Keep your man in line,” Taylor says to me before returning to the menu.

  “They’re fighting over you,” Tomas says, “pulling on your arms like you’re a wishbone. How does it make you feel?”

  I’ve actually grown to enjoy word fighting with Tomas. “How does it make me feel? It makes me feel like a turkey club, hold the wishbone.”

  “Aren’t you clever?” Tomas says.

  “Damn right she is,” Taylor says and then fist pumps me.

  The waiter arrives with the olives Taylor ordered before we even sat down. She claps her hands enthusiastically at the sight of the Kalamata olives and the feta cheese. She takes some on her plate and then passes the rest on to me. I take a couple olives on my fork and bring them under my nose. They’re the most fragrant, succulent olives I’ve ever tasted.

  “You were right,” I say. “Greek olives are the best.”

  I put an olive in Nate’s mouth. As soon as he swallows, he turns to Tomas. “Come to think of it, when are you flying to Greece?”

  This piques Taylor’s interest. “Greece?” she says. “You’re really going to Greece?”

  “It seems as though I am,” Tomas says. “In March.”

  “A new adventure?” I ask.

  “Perhaps,” he says. “Doing research on a screenplay I plan to write.”

  “You’re a writer?” Taylor says, raising her brows and looking at him as if he’s the next olive on her plate.

  “Not really, but is anyone that until they are?” Tomas says. “I just have an idea and an invitation.”

  “Tomas has nearly as many ideas as he does invitations,” Nate says.

  “And you can afford to stay abroad on a whim?” Taylor says, more intrigued by the minute.

  “No one ever thinks to charge me on my travels,” he says.

  “You’re annoying in a really cool way,” Taylor says leaning on him, putting an arm around his shoulders. “I’m coming with you and I won’t bother you at all. I’ll cook and clean and type your notes.” She turns to me. “I could even get myself a Greek lover or maybe a big Turk or a roaming Sudanese.”

  “I never expected anyone in Pasadena to say roaming Sudanese,” Tomas says. It’s clear that despite all his travels and sophistication he has never come across someone like Taylor.

  “Yeah, Taylor, say that again,” I say.

  “Oh, everybody hush and look at your menus,” she says.

  Greece thinks it’s gone through a rough patch the last ten years. Wait until Tomas and Taylor land on their shores. Hold on to your Baklava and your children and lock your liquor cabinets.

  Honestly it might not be a bad idea. The crystal clear waters of the Greek islands, the powerful waves crashing against white stone beaches, the seagulls circling in blue skies above and all I have ever heard of the paradise that’s called the Aegean Sea might be just what the doctor ordered for my heartbroken friend.

  Nate and I could join them for a few days. I can imagine us inhaling the salty breezes, baking ourselves under the sun and falling in love all over again.

  “Let’s go,” Taylor says, looking at me.

  “Huh?”

  “Where’s your mind off to? The restroom.”

  I follow her obediently although I’m pretty sure I don’t need to use the restroom. What I need is food in my mouth. I’m starving.

  As soon as we’re out of earshot of the guys, she wraps her arm around mine. “Nate’s delicious,” she says. “And the way he looks at you... swoon. You’re a lucky girl, Grace Marie.”

  “I guess I am,” I say, pensively, marveling at how fast things changed for Nate and me. We’re actually out with friends, holding hands and gently kissing in public like we’re a real couple.

  The restroom is strangely empty for such a busy restaurant. Taylor poses herself in front of the big mirror to fix her hair and pull her bra up.

  “Actually, I don’t know which of them is better looking,” she says as I pull my lipstick out of my purse.

  I’m staring at my image in the mirror trying to figure out if she’s going through one of her teasing sessions or if she truly likes Tomas. “Does that mean you’d be interested in him?” I ask, finally applying my lipstick.

  She shakes her head. “Tomas? He’s hot but–”

  It all becomes clear as her eyes look over my shoulder to the hand-dryer as if she’s never seen one before. “But your mind’s still on Cody,” I say in a matter-of-fact voice.

  Taylor’s eyes focus on me. “I was going to say that I would never want to date your boyfriend’s friend. That would just be awkward.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it would make our private lives less private. It would take away the lovely secrecy and mystery of being in love.”

  I consider her words and they make sense. “Okay, my bad. Besides, he’s already informed me that he doesn’t do relationships, so there’s that.”

  Taylor smiles. “Tomas said that? Well, you know, that’s a serious challenge for a woman like me, but I’ll pass. I have more pressing matters on my hands and very little time to solve them.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Oh, the usual. My family, the shop, things like that.”

  “You know you have no way of hiding things from me, right?”

  “C’mon,” she says, grabbing my arm. “Let’s get back before that watchdog of yours thinks I did something terrible to you. You heard him, he’ll kill me if I hurt a hair on your head.”

  “He never said he’d actually kill you,” I protest as we walk back out into the crowded restaurant.

  We don’t take two steps before we notice the hostility brewing at our table. I hurry to interrupt a heated argument between Nate and Tomas.

  *

  “What were you and Tomas arguing about?” I ask Nate when we are alone in the car after having dropped off Taylor and Tomas.

  “Nothing much,” he says. “He gets some strange ideas sometimes and I can’t help but challenge them.”

  “Such as?”

  “Never mind that. What were you and Taylor discussing?”

  “When?” I ask with my most innocent voice.

  “When you powdered your nose,” he says. “You were gone a while.”

  “You only think that because you missed me,” I say to throw him off track.

  “That’s true, but what did she think of me?”

  “Oh, that,” I say. “What do you think? She thought you were threatening.”

  “She started it,” he says, right as we reach the apartment complex.

  “Oh, you’re both so innocent,” I say as I step out of the car.

  He jumps out of his seat and quickly circles the car to get in front of me. “What did she say?” he insists, hands in pockets and s
hifting his weight from leg to leg, almost as if dancing.

  “That you’re unattractive and you smell funny.”

  “I smell funny?”

  “That’s the only thing that bothered you?”

  “All right, that’s it,” he says. He picks me up and throws me over his shoulder like I’m made of feathers.

  “Put me down,” I say laughing, but he ignores my protests.

  Once inside the apartment, he carries me straight to the bedroom in the dark, bumping his foot against the metal bed frame in the process. “Fucking hell,” he says, “that hurt.”

  “That should teach you a lesson,” I say triumphantly, knowing my triumph will be short lived.

  He drops me down onto the bed and turns on the nightstand lamp. He sits on the edge of the bed and takes off his shoe to rub the toes he’s hurt. I smile because all I want to do when he’s vulnerable like that is kiss him. I sit up and rest my cheek against his back, sliding a hand under his shirt to gently scratch his shoulder blades.

  He loves the feeling of my nails on his skin. The sounds he produces can only be compared to his sexual groans.

  Nate climbs onto the bed, takes his socks off, puts both hands on my face and locks his eyes on mine. “What did Taylor say?”

  Here we go again. “She said Tomas is almost as hot and sexy as you.”

  The expression on his face turns to mischievous. “She said almost?”

  “She said absolutely nothing about your smell.” I roll my eyes at him.

  He attacks me, tickling every part of me he knows is ticklish. I squirm and writhe, trying to get away to no avail. His fingers are ruthless and way too determined for me to escape them. Just as I’m about to lose hope that he will ever give up, he pulls me close to his chest and kisses my forehead, and then my chin and nose.

  “He said she’s hot, too.”

  He tries to kiss me but I push him back. “Wait a second. Who said that?”

  “You know who,” he says impatiently, biting my lower lip softly.

  “You mean he likes Taylor?”

  “Of course he likes her,” he says, stroking the sides of my breasts over the soft fabric of my buttoned blouse. “Now stop talking.”

 

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