I stared at him in shock. “All I said was that I went to the bar last night to hang out. I didn't even mention Rhys by name. I didn't even go to his bar. Are you kidding me right now?”
“No, I’m dead serious.”
I huffed out a breath. “I have never once asked you to give up a friend because I was jealous. And that's all Rhys is, a friend.”
His eyes narrowed at me. “I’ve never flirted with someone in front of you and given you a reason to be anxious.”
Ouch. Direct hit.
“You expect me to give up my friendship because you’re insecure. I’ve already explained to you it wasn’t like that. He’s been listening to me talk about you for months now.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I can’t stand the fact that you tell him about our issues.”
“Can’t we just have a good day without fighting for once? I want to hang out with you today and ignore all the drama. You said you wanted to go hiking, let’s fucking go hiking.”
He sighed. “Fine, but this isn’t over.”
“Yes, it is. I’m through having this conversation.”
I tugged on his arms and waited for him to wrap them around me. The afternoon was meant to be fun. We needed to reconnect and spend time together without thinking of all the bullshit. My head rested on his shoulder and I breathed in the comforting spicy scent of his cologne.
“Come on. The trail is just ahead,” he said.
I wasn’t one for marching through the woods, but Stephen loved it. Surfing and hiking were two of his favorite hobbies. As far as I knew he hadn’t been surfing much lately. Jax went out every morning, but he hadn’t mentioned if anyone was going with him. That could have been intentional on his part though. I had been a little moody when it came to Stephen lately, so Jaxon avoided bringing him up if at all possible.
We’d been hiking for over an hour and I was getting tired. Stephen forged ahead as we got on a particularly challenging portion and I lagged behind. My foot snagged on a root and I fell down hard. As my knee hit a rock I cried out. I tried to catch myself on a tree, but my fingers slipped down the rough bark instead of stopping my fall.
“Baby, are you okay?” Stephen called out as he rushed back down to my side.
Blood covered my shin, but I couldn’t tell how bad the injury actually was. My knee was killing me and it already seemed swollen. I was afraid to put weight on my ankle because it hurt worse than my knee.
“I’m not sure if I can walk,” I whispered.
“What hurts the most? Can you move your ankle?”
I cried out again as I tried to shift my weight.
“Let’s get you cleaned up first,” he said pulling out the supplies he needed from his bag. Thank goodness he was always so prepared. His fingers moved gently over the cut on my knee. “I think the cut will be fine, but your knee is swollen.”
I nodded and waited for him to inspect my ankle. He slipped off my shoe carefully and pressed in a few different places. “Oh baby, that has to hurt. It’s already starting to bruise and swell. We need to get you home and get ice on it.”
He used the ace bandage he had in his bag to wrap my ankle. When he finished, he took my hands in his and placed gentle kisses on my scraped palms. Tears pricked at my eyes, but it wasn’t because of the sting.
“Let’s get you out of here.”
With his help, I stood up slowly. I couldn’t put any weight down on my injured ankle. Stephen scooped me up in his arms.
“You can’t carry me out of here,” I protested.
“Just try and stop me,” he said smiling.
It took forever for us to make our way out of the trails. Even taking the shortcuts that Stephen knew, we were in there for another forty-five minutes. Stephen insisted on carrying me the entire time. My arms looped around his neck and it was getting harder with each second not to trail my hands over his muscled chest and back. I wriggled around and he shot me a dark look.
“Magnolia,” he said in warning.
“It’s not my fault,” I said innocently, blinking my eyelashes at him.
He laughed and the throaty sound hit me low. I closed my eyes and tried to keep my thoughts from wandering to places they had no business going. We hadn’t ever had sex in a forest.
Damn it.
“Stephen, I really think I should try walking.”
He grunted, but didn’t put me down. I sighed and attempted to forget how he was making me feel. At least I wasn’t a guy because then my thoughts would be even more noticeable.
“Taylor, I swear. If you don’t stop, I will fuck you right here.”
I sucked in a breath. “How did you—”
“I only have to look at you to know when you’re turned on. Haven’t you realized that yet? Baby, you’re so damn wet I can feel it through your shorts.”
My face turned crimson, and I looked down. Stephen stopped, his hand trailed up and down the back of my thigh. I shivered in response.
“You’re hurt. We really shouldn’t.” His mouth clamped down on mine and I swallowed a moan. He broke the kiss first, his forehead rested against mine. “I want nothing more than to lay you down and bury my cock inside you, but we need to get your ankle checked out.”
“Stephen,” I whispered, my voice needy.
He grit his teeth. “Not right now, baby. Soon. Oh god, I want you very, very soon, but just let me do the responsible thing and make sure you're okay first.”
I pouted, and he laughed again. He kissed the tip of my nose and I fought back a smile.
We went to the ER, and they told me I had a sprained ankle. Big surprise. They also said I needed to stay off of it for three to four days. The pain medicine the doctor gave me knocked me out and before we even made the twenty-minute drive back home, I was asleep.
Later that evening I woke up curled into Stephen’s chest. He was lying on the couch watching baseball. My ankle was propped up with an icepack securely wrapped around it. It was things like this that I missed the most. Over the years I had always taken care of myself, not allowing anyone close enough to help, but with Stephen he just did it.
As he stared at the TV it gave me a chance to study him. He had the beginnings of crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes, probably from laughing so much over the years. Stephen may be demanding and moody, most actors were, but he never forgot how to laugh. His perfect smile was one of his most attractive features. My fingers itched to touch the light stubble along his jaw, but I held back. I didn’t want this time to end. The weight of my gaze must have made him glance down at me.
“You’re awake.” I nodded. “How’s your ankle feeling, baby?”
“I think it’s okay. Thank you for taking me to the ER.”
He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Of course. Are you hungry?”
I smiled. Stephen was always starving. “I could eat.”
“How about I order some pizza and we pick out a movie?”
“That sounds wonderful.”
Thirty minutes later we had hot food in front of us and we were playfully arguing over what to watch. We ended up finding something on Netflix that we hadn't ever heard of. I fell asleep on his chest after my second dose of pain meds. He moved me to our old bed at some point because I woke up wrapped in his arms with a beautiful view of the Pacific Ocean. If I had my choice, I would wake up like this every day. I made my mind up that I would heal no matter what I needed to do.
I stared past Amanda’s shoulder into the crowded restaurant, not seeing any of the people milling about. My head was too clouded, and the thoughts flying around were distracting.
“Earth to Taylor.” Amanda waved her hands in front of my face and I glanced back to her. She looked concerned. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. No. I don’t even know anymore.” She waited patiently for me to continue. “I can’t figure out why I am so messed up. I mean, what have I really had go wrong in my life? Relationships around me are fucked up, but that doesn’t mean that mine have to be.”
/>
Amanda stared at me for a few seconds. “Where is all this coming from? I’ve always thought you were a free spirit that just wanted to enjoy life with nothing holding you back. Now you’re all introspective and deep. What gives?”
I took a sip of water to stall. “I hurt everyone around me. It’s never bothered me before because I didn’t give a fuck. Violet and Stephen don’t deserve to suffer though. For years I would disappear into the unknown without telling anyone. Vi spent a lot of time worrying about me. Poor Emmy has had to deal with my shit too.” My fingers delicately ran along the rim of the glass. “Stephen deserves better than me leaving in the middle of the night not bothering to give him an explanation. Something about him makes me want to be stronger.”
Amanda reached over and took my hand into hers. “It’s great that you want to fix things with Stephen, but don’t lose yourself in the process. You need to find what makes you, you. Figure out what’s important to you.”
“I guess that’s what I’m trying to do. He is important to me.”
“I get it. More than you know. When I was in high school I had a boyfriend, really he wasn't just my boyfriend, he was my best friend, but that's not important,” she said waving her hand around. “He left me because he didn’t believe he was good enough for me. No matter what I said, he wouldn't trust I knew what I wanted. I’ve always wondered what would have happened if he hadn’t decided for us. Just don’t push Stephen away because you are trying to be noble and think he deserves better. Let him help you.”
Tears pricked at my eyes. I was so sick of crying.
“What if it’s too late?” I whispered.
“He loves you. I’m sure he’s hurting as much as you are right now. You guys just need to work through it. Stephen has some apologizing to do too. He said some things that were out of line. Plus, he wasn’t completely honest with you either.”
I smiled weakly.
“Maybe. So tell me more about this old boyfriend.”
Amanda blushed and tried to hide her upturned lips behind her glass of wine, but I saw the sadness lurking in her eyes. “He was amazing. I think he’s part of the reason I can’t find anyone now. I'm too damn picky because I compare everyone to him. But enough about the past, tell me what’s going on with your writing. You were working on that huge piece last week.”
The conversation shifted to much happier topics. And while I was still a little distracted, Amanda’s words helped me focus. She was right; I needed to find out what was important. With all the articles I wrote on it, the solution should have been clearer. It was time for something more drastic. I was sick of playing the victim and not solving my problems.
“I love you from the bottom of my heart, but I don’t trust your cooking. Stay out of my kitchen.” Jaxon stared back at me. “Seriously, go. Alice warned me never to let you near a pot or pan. I’m cooking something nice for Stephen. I’m not letting you ruin it.”
“I can’t believe my mom said that.”
“Yes, you can. You and Connor both are hopeless in the kitchen. Sophia told me about the time Connor tried to make her toast and he caught a potholder on fire.”
“That was him, not me.”
“Apparently, you’re interchangeable in your mother’s eyes. Violet also told me about the waffle incident. Hands off. Why are you even here?”
“This is my best friend’s house. Am I not allowed in here anymore?”
“I’m just asking a question. Did you come to mooch food since Vi is studying for finals or did you just get bored?”
He ducked his head. “Can I choose option C?”
I pointed to a seat across the kitchen island with my wooden spoon. “Over there and don’t touch anything.”
“Yes, ma’am. So what are you cooking?”
“Chicken parmesan. It’s Stephen’s favorite.”
“I wish Vi would cook for me.”
“Jax, you have a wife that is balancing work, school, and a kid. You’re lucky she’s having sex with you.”
“True story," he said grinning.
I stirred the pot of homemade spaghetti sauce I had spent most of the afternoon making. The spicy scent filled the air and Jax groaned.
“Seriously. Vi cooks, but it’s nothing like that.”
“I’ll be sure to tell her.”
“Don’t you dare.”
I smirked. “It’s going to cost you.”
“It always does,” he griped. “What do you want dear sister?”
“I’ll let you know," I said winking.
I took pity on Jax and served him some spaghetti. He ate every bite of the homemade noodles and sauce that I gave him and made puppy dog eyes for more.
“You are a bottomless pit.”
“But you love me.”
I shook my head and started working on the chicken. Jax kept up a steady stream of conversation while I worked. He connected his phone to the Bluetooth speakers and turned on a Top 100 station. Every time a new song came on that he liked, he encouraged me to sing. A quick look at the clock told me I had another half hour until Stephen should be back.
Perfect.
“Jax, I love you, but get out.”
He kissed my cheek.
“Go change and get hot for your man.”
I smiled at him. He was a pretty kickass brother-in-law every once in a while.
“Damn it!” I screeched, ripping back my hand from the glass baking dish sitting on the stove.
My hand had just grazed the side of the hot glass as I pulled the chicken out of the oven, but it hurt like hell. I ran over to the sink and shoved my hand under cool water. Stephen came up behind me.
“I know the cool water feels better, but you’ll set in the burn.” He turned the water to lukewarm, and I gasped as the burn throbbed. Stephen rubbed my back as he stood next to me. After a few minutes he turned off the water. His lips brushed softly across the burn and my lips parted.
“All better,” he whispered.
I swallowed hard. He was always saving me.
“Thank you.”
“What’s all this?” he asked looking around the kitchen.
“Your favorites; chicken parmesan, fresh green beans, and my garlic bread sticks.”
“You made me dinner?” I bit down on my lip and nodded. He cupped my face and kissed me gently. “You are amazing.”
I smiled and moved past him to pick up the plates. Wincing, I adjusted my grip on the plate before it fell. The burn was throbbing as I set them on the table. Stephen poured the Lambrusco while I sat at the table. He held his glass up to mine and we toasted.
“To the future.”
“To the future,” I echoed.
“So why did you do all this for me?”
“I wanted to thank you for taking care of me and my ankle the other day.”
“Baby, you wouldn’t have gotten the sprained ankle if it wasn’t for me.”
I held up my hand. “Obviously, I’m a bit accident prone.”
He leaned up and kissed my hand again.
We ate the food slowly and enjoyed each other's company. The food was delicious, and I had another surprise for dessert. I went to the fridge and pulled out two cups of chocolate mousse. Jaxon hadn’t found them hiding in there luckily. Stephen grinned as I pulled them out.
“I’m a lucky bastard.”
I laughed and took them over to the table.
“Don’t get used to this,” I joked.
“Why? You don’t enjoy cooking for me?”
“I don’t mind that, but all this homemade shit takes a long time.”
His laughter filled the kitchen. I carried the ramekins to the table and swayed my hips as I came closer. He growled and pulled me to him, wrapping his arms around my waist. I giggled as I set them down next to him. When he grabbed me, some of the rich chocolate got on my hand. Stephen eyed it hungrily. His eyes locked with mine as he sucked my finger into his mouth.
Holy. Fuck.
I moaned as he tugged me onto his l
ap. He was rock hard in his jeans against me. Everything rubbed in the right places and I wanted him. The only problem was that when we added sex into the mix, things got fucked up. We needed this time to trust one another again.
“Stephen,” I said on a gasp. His tongue traveled the column of my neck, and I arched into him.
“Baby, I want you,” he whispered as his hands slid under my shirt.
“Stephen,” I said again. “We need to stop.”
His mouth captured mine, and I was lost. Every sane thought I’d had only moments before were gone. When he pushed his tongue into my mouth, I fought him back for control, my fingers running through his hair, tugging on the ends. He pulled away from me and put his forehead to mine. We were both breathing hard.
“You’re right, but I don’t want to.”
I kissed his nose and climbed off his lap, but not before he pulled my shirt down so he could look at my boobs.
“You’re impossible,” I said giggling.
He grinned. I held my hand out to him and he stood up. We grabbed the mousse and spoons so we could go watch TV while we ate our dessert. Snuggling into his shoulder was the best way to end the night. I just prayed that things stayed simple while we got our footing back.
My foot bounced up and down quickly and it took major effort for me not to bite my nails. I hadn’t done it since I was a kid, but in situations I wasn't comfortable, I always reverted to the nasty habit.
“Taylor, you seem nervous.”
“No, I’m fine.”
Dr. Harris pursed her lips.
“Can you tell me why you decided you needed to see a psychiatrist?”
“I have commitment issues.”
“Okay. Can you elaborate? Explain your situation.”
“I don’t know how this works. Is talking supposed to help me understand why I am the way I am? I feel restless anywhere I stay more than a few months. This isn't a new development, but I’ve been in California for almost two years now and I don't want to leave. Which kind of weirds me out. Stephen, my boy—"
Restless (Relentless Series Book 2) Page 10