Still Into You

by Andrews, Ryleigh

  She stretched her hands high above her head, leaning side to side, her skirt swaying with her elegant movements, before she headed towards the house, keys in hand. Ethan followed behind her, carrying the luggage up the stone stairs leading to the main entrance of the house. She unlocked the door, holding it open for him. He placed the bags against the wall in the foyer, suddenly excited for a tour.

  “Show me around,” he insisted, taking her hand.

  The first thing he noticed was the sheer amount and size of the windows in the house. Out of every window, there was a view either of the beautiful Pacific Ocean or of the mountains. Neutral colors were the common theme throughout the rooms as was the deep dark wood. Much different than her brownstone that was filled with color. This was serene.

  The next thing he noticed—the house was spotless, even the kitchen, and he said as much.

  “It’s just clean because Allie had the maid service come by earlier today. It’s not usually this clean. It looks lived in normally. And there is usually food cooking.”

  For once, his stomach didn’t make an appearance when her cooking was mentioned. He had a goal.

  “Where’s the bedroom?” he asked.

  “We just got here!” she exclaimed.

  “No, you sex maniac. I wanted to bring up the luggage and then change. It’s like forty degrees warmer here. I’m hot!”

  “Yeah, you are,” she agreed with a glint in her eye and a lift of her mouth.

  He loved his little hornball. Zero to horny with only a few words. He kissed her swiftly, making sure it was full of promise for later then he took her hand. “Bedroom.”

  She led him back out of the kitchen and dining room to the foyer. “This way,” she said, heading towards the master stairway.

  Ethan walked into the bedroom and the first thing he noticed was the wide expanse of the deep blue ocean. He would love this view every morning.

  “The closets are at the back of the room,” she guided.

  He carried the luggage to the closets and set about putting his clothes in the empty section and looked around the space. Besides clothes, she had some framed photos on the shelves. As he took off his stifling sweater and shirt, Ethan regarded them. He didn’t know what to expect but the one thing he didn’t expect to find was a picture of him and her on the shelf along with all the pictures of her and Luke and Kaitlyn, all her bandmates, her and Allie, and a few others with some other people. That face made him smile.

  Mia peaked in from the bathroom. “Do you want to go for a walk on the beach?”

  With a nod, he pulled out a pair of running shorts. She joined him in the closet, slipping out of her skirt along the way. Kicking it aside, she opened a drawer, searching for something to wear. After sliding a pair of short running shorts up her lean legs, Mia divested herself of the sweater she had on as well as her bra before working her chest into a black sports bra.

  She sat on the bench to put on her shoes. He did the same, putting on his own socks and shoes. When she was done, she hopped up with more energy than when they’d arrived. “Let’s go!”

  He smiled at her and got up to follow.

  As they left her property, she locked the gate and turned to him, mischief brightening her eyes. “Race you to the beach!” she said and sprinted off.

  Damn, she’s fast, he thought, racing after her.

  The only reason he caught up was because she had to cross the Pacific Coast Highway to get to the beach. He grasped her hand so she wouldn’t bolt again, threading his fingers through hers. They crossed the busy street and she led him down a small access path to the beach.

  They walked quietly for a while. He took in the houses and thought about living near the ocean again. It had been over a decade since he had done so . . . albeit the Atlantic and not the Pacific. He missed it. The peacefulness that the crashing waves brought him. He had a feeling that’s why Mia came here after her overdose—peace.

  A calmer exterior to deal with the interior chaos of her mind.

  He wanted to know more about why she made the choice to move here and all that followed that decision.

  “God, Mia, it’s so beautiful here. You fit perfectly.”

  “Are you trying to butter me up?” she asked suspiciously, letting go of his hand and pointing at him.

  “No, just stating the truth. This,” he said, spreading his arms out, “is you.”

  “I ran thousands of miles here. I did so much thinking, sitting on some rock.”

  “About?” he nudged.

  “About a lot of things. I learned so much about myself while we were apart, things that I don’t think I could have touched if we were together,” she admitted before stopping him by a trio of big boulders, pointing at them. “That rock over there is where I figured out my plan. Well . . . I did have some help from my therapist.”

  “The plan. Is it complete yet?”

  “Not quite, but almost there. Just a few more steps.”

  “Gonna tell me?”

  “That is one of the steps,” she said proudly, a smile lighting her face. That answer and her reaction was so different from how she would have responded in the past. He could sense she was still a little afraid but not like before when she would bolt. He didn’t sense that kind of fear.

  “Good, I want to know all about it and all that you learned,” he said.

  “Would you mind if we talk a little later? I’ve got a lot to tell you and I don’t want to do it out here. Plus, I’ve got to pee and I was hoping to take a nap.”

  Another nap?

  That pressed hard against his worry button. She still wasn’t well. He would get her to rest—one way or another.

  “With me, by chance?” he asked, pulling her into his embrace, her arms sandwiched between the two of them. She pushed back a little to give her some room to move.

  “Yes, though, now that I think about it, I could go for some extracurricular activity before the nap,” she answered, toying with the waist of his shorts, her fingers dancing along his muscular V. He swatted her hands away with a laugh and kissed her hard and fast, dazing her.

  “Race you back?” he said and dashed off towards the house, leaving her behind and giving her a little taste of her own medicine.

  Mia

  They never got around to the extracurricular activity. While racing after Ethan, Mia felt her stomach overturn. She barely made it to the grass before she threw up.

  Again. What the hell?

  She had felt fine! She didn’t understand, though as she hunched over, a nagging feeling that this wasn’t a stomach bug gripped her.

  With the back of her hand, Mia wiped her mouth. She looked up and saw Ethan jogging back to her, his face a picture of worry. He skidded in the grass as he stopped in front of her.

  “Suga, you okay?” he asked, kneeling beside her, his hand caressing her back.

  Pathetically, she shook her head. “No.”

  He helped her up and took her hand. “Let’s get you back into bed.”

  The return to her house was slow, but he stayed right by her side. She cursed living on a damn hill now. She didn’t want to walk up it. Halfway up, he stood in front of her and told her to get on. He bent down for her and she climbed on his back.

  “You are the best,” she whispered, resting her head against his. She loved having Ethan here taking care of her. He did such a fine job of it too. When they reached the top of the driveway, he bent to let her down but she didn’t want to let him go. He chuckled then stood back up and carried her into the house and up to the bedroom. She definitely missed his strength.

  They entered the room and she hopped down, but not before kissing his neck and then headed right to the bathroom to rid herself of the vomit taste in her mouth.

  When she returned, he had lowered the blinds to darken the room from the afternoon sun, and now lay in bed with his shirt off. Mia paused for a moment, staring at his beautiful chest that was often her downfall. She kicked off her shoes and then climbed into bed. Sh
e snuggled up against his warm, hard body, her fingers idly caressing his cheek, just thankful he was by her side. Ethan stilled her hand and brought her fingers to his mouth, kissing each one before speaking.

  “Suga, do you want me to get you anything?”

  “No,” she answered. Mia didn’t want him to get up. She wanted him to nap so she could sneak out to the store. Then she would know for sure if her hunch was right, but until she did, Mia did not want to bother him with it.

  Ethan

  Awakening from his unexpected nap, Ethan felt refreshed. He hadn’t wanted to take a nap, but when Mia snuggled up against him, her fingers rhythmically rubbing his chest, he was a goner.

  He stretched out and frowned when he didn’t feel her by his side. Where the hell is she? he thought, scanning the room.

  Hopping out of bed, he threw on his shirt and padded barefoot out of the room. As soon as he opened the door, the scent of sausage and peppers assaulted his nose and he immediately set off to the kitchen, knowing where to find Mia. But when he entered the room, he found it empty—well, one of his favorite meals simmered on the stove top. That was something. He stole a few sniffs before returning to find Mia.

  Back at the stairs, he heard the repetitive tapping of fingers hitting a keyboard and followed the sound into her office. Ethan found Mia at her grand turn-of-the-century, wooden desk. He took in the design of the room, a wall of bookcases behind her and the wall to her right filled with her books, awards, and photo frames. It was comfortable and very similar in tone to his. She sat at her desk, her brow furrowed in concentration, typing away on her laptop.

  “Hey, suga,” he said and she looked up, a little dazed. She blinked her eyes a couple times to focus on him. “Sorry to interrupt.”

  She smiled fondly at him yet it was tinged with tiredness. It didn’t appear that she’d slept at all. To be honest, she looked even more tired than when they’d gone to bed. “You’re not interrupting.”

  He sat down in one of the chairs and regarded her. Her skin was pale and her eyes sunken in. He had such a desire to order her upstairs to nap, but something held him back. Communication.

  “I missed waking up with you. Where did you go off to?”

  “To get some groceries for dinner. It should be ready now. Want me to set up a plate for you?” she asked, rising from her chair and walking towards him.

  He nodded thankfully. “Thanks, but aren’t you going to eat?”

  “Nah, my stomach is still a bit unsettled,” she said, kissing his head. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Thanks, suga,” Ethan said, letting her go. He got up to take a closer look at the bookshelves that he’d noticed earlier.

  He smiled as his fingers fluttered over the spines of the books. His little history nerd. Book after book on European History, plus some on the Civil War, his specialty.

  Ethan stepped over to the next unit that was full of pictures. Just like in her closet. These pictures were important to her. So many with her band while on tour, her friends, and shit—him and her.

  They were a bit hidden but they were still there—photos they had taken or had been taken of them. A photo of him holding her guitar and her wearing his Flash helmet with a huge grin on her face.

  There was one of just him—he didn’t remember her taking this. Usually she showed him all the pictures she took. Then he realized it was a screenshot from when they were on Skype. A hotel bed was behind him. He looked tired, yet he had a wide grin on his face. Probably just laid his eyes on her. Seeing her just did that to him. It was an automatic response.

  His mouth broke into another grin when Mia returned with a plateful of food for him and a beer. “I love you,” he said, sitting down at the desk. He smelled the food. Heaven, he thought. “Thank you, suga! Can’t wait to try it.”

  While he ate, Ethan observed Mia on the other side of the desk. She seemed very preoccupied with whatever was on her laptop screen.

  “Did you try this?” he asked, trying to engage her.

  “No. Do you like it?” she replied, looking up from the computer.

  “Try a little,” he offered, holding his fork in the air.

  She smiled, her tired eyes lighting up. “Okay,” she said, leaning forward and opening her mouth for his fork. He stared at her mouth as she chewed. Feeding her was always erotic. The way she swiped her tongue across her lips, making sure there was nothing left behind.

  “Mmm, I am good!” she smiled.

  “You are! God, I missed your cooking.”

  “No, you didn’t,” she countered.

  “Oh, yes, I did. You fed me well. You’ll make me fat and I won’t care. I’ll be in heaven.”

  She laughed as she looked up, imagining it. “I would miss your abs . . . so maybe I should stop cooking for you . . .”

  “Is that the only reason you love me . . . for my looks?” he said, feigning anger.

  “Not the only reason, but a pretty big one,” she said, her voice filled with laughter.

  “What are the other reasons then?” he asked, continuing to eat her delicious food.

  “Hmm . . . let me see,” she paused dramatically. Was she seriously thinking? His mouth dropped open and she had the nerve to laugh.

  “I love your voice, your sense of humor, your strength, your integrity, and your beautiful, strong body.”

  “Continue,” he said happily.

  With a chuckle, she stood up from her desk and made her way around it and to him. “Let’s go outside,” she suggested, reaching for his hand, her fingers dancing upon it. He wiped his face with his napkin and then enveloped her hand in his, letting her lead them to the balcony.

  He sat down on an oversized lounge chair with white cushions and motioned for her to join him. She sat between his legs, scooting up to him. Wrapping his arms around her little body, he rested his chin upon her shoulder, regarding the sunset before him. What a gorgeous evening! The awesomeness of the ocean, the sunset, plus the presence of the woman he loved.

  Resting her head back against his chest, Mia looked up at the sky. She’d seemed deep in thought all day long, all those far off looks. To be honest, it scared him a little because it reminded him of the time right before she broke off their engagement.

  “Mia?”

  “I remembered what you said about assuming too much, so I’m going to assume nothing. So, please bear with me,” she asked, turning around in his arms. Sitting between his outstretched legs, she crossed her own. So she did have something to say, he thought.

  “All right.”

  She placed her hands on his knees. “Umm . . .” she started, her voice without its characteristic lightness. “Did you know I haven’t seen my mother in over twenty-four years?”

  “Mia . . .” It was all he could say. Her admission shocked him. This wasn’t what he’d expected her to say, but now he understood why she didn’t say much about her mother. She simply didn’t know.

  He couldn’t imagine not seeing his mother for one year, let alone twenty-four. How old did that make Mia when this happened?

  “Um, she left my father and I when I was eight . . .” Mia started and went on to tell him her story. He regarded her, not seeing his lover, but the poor, little girl living through this, her pain still fresh. He never thought what happened to her would’ve been so dramatic—so heartbreaking. What kind of woman left her child and had absolutely no contact with her? Ethan wondered what their relationship was like before her mother had left. If this woman didn’t want children, did she ignore Mia? Was she mean to her? From her pain now, Mia obviously had loved her mother, looked up to her, then her world was crushed when she found out she wasn’t wanted and was then abandoned by her mother. How does an eight-year-old process that?

  She probably thought she was unlovable. Not worth the love.

  Holy shit! Didn’t she say that the night of her overdose?

  All this was mixing with everything he knew about her. He was trying, in warp speed, to see how this event had shaped he
r.

  Her fierce independence.

  Her keeping things close to her chest so she didn’t get hurt.

  Her insecurity.

  Her inability to cope.

  Her fear of abandonment.

  Abandoned. That’s exactly how he’d made her feel when he didn’t show up in New York all those years ago. Pushing him away was her way of protecting herself.

  Fuck, he thought at that realization.

  “Eventually, my father came up to my bedroom. When my father told me what happened, I thought I would be okay with just my Papa. That night, he stayed with me until I fell asleep,” she said, toying with a stray string on his shorts as she continued her story. “My father changed after my mom left. He used to be so carefree. I was daddy’s little princess. I used to love going to his office and being a part of that, the smell of the old books. He would sit me on the floor with a few of his books and I would just devour them. God, I still remember how I could do no wrong. He spoiled me rotten. My papa was everything to me, but he slowly became bitter and angry, and more controlling of my life. But after a while that changed too. I barely saw him. And with that, I began acting out—desperately trying to get my father’s attention. Any attention was better than none. He wouldn’t allow me to date while I was in high school. I hated that. But I had learned how to sneak out of the house. There was this time when I went to a frat party on campus. A guy that I had met playing Frisbee was there. I had such a crush on him and he actually remembered me. I was so happy about that. Things were going well, I thought, when he kissed me. He somehow maneuvered us upstairs. One moment he kissed me and the next we were in an empty bedroom and he began to kiss me more urgently. His hands were all over me. I told him to stop, but,” she paused, her voice faltering, “he wouldn’t. He pulled at my clothing. He had my skirt up around my waist, my underwear and tights were torn off me. I screamed for him to stop. That’s when he hit me, but it didn’t shut me up. I kept screaming, hoping someone would hear me, but he kept hitting me, yelling at me to shut the fuck up. One of the punches finally silenced me, the one that caused this,” she said, pointing at the scar beneath her eye, the scar he barely noticed anymore.