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Love Wasted

Page 7

by Shirl Rickman


  Releasing a sigh, I cover my face with the pillow.

  I’m not alone, and that thought is unsettling, but I can admit the idea is only bothersome because it’s Paxton who is in this apartment with me. I thought I would have time to think. It’s the reason I didn’t stay with Richard—I wanted to be alone. I wanted to think about my relationship with Richard. I wanted to think about my writing and all the things I avoid. I wanted to embrace being twenty-six years old and being okay with where I’m at in my life. I just wanted to be.

  I can’t just be.

  There is no way for me to do any of what I want with Paxton around. His reentrance into my life from afar muddled things enough, but now he’s only fifty feet away from me. He saw me without clothes on. He saw me naked. When I walked out of the bathroom and found him lounging in that chair, waiting with his crooked, handsome, charming Paxton Luke smile, I couldn’t think, and by God if I didn’t want him to just take me right there against the wall. My body being exposed to his gaze was like being lit on fire, igniting a slow burn until I was completely inflamed.

  He said it would be simple. Simple? How will this ever be simple for me? Even when he was on the opposite side of the world, the idea of Paxton has never been simple.

  Shit. What’s wrong with me? I will not let him get the better of me. If it’s not a big deal to him, then it won’t be a big deal to me. I spent practically my entire childhood keeping Paxton Luke at a distance, so doing it as an adult shouldn’t be a problem. I can do this.

  Sitting up, I hop off the bed and make my way to the kitchen. Before Paxton showed up, my plan was to have some dinner, stick a movie in, and have a little sake, and I’m not going to change my plan just because his arrival caused a ripple in it.

  I pull out the leftover Japanese food from the fridge and stick it in the microwave then grab the chilled sake.

  While the food heats up, I walk over to the coffee table, set the sake down, and grab the remote then click the TV on. Bringing up the on-demand movie selection, I begin searching through the romantic comedies. Quickly, I decide on Letters to Juliet. There’s just something about that movie that makes me feel better; it makes me laugh and feel hopeful that real love exists.

  The microwave signals that the food is ready just as Paxton walks into the room in a tight-fitting t-shirt and sweats hanging low on his hips. Simple. This is simple.

  “Hey, what’s for dinner?” he asks, like he belongs here and this is any other night in our lives. God, I hate how at ease he is.

  Walking past him into the kitchen, I reply, “Well, I’m having leftover Japanese.” When I look over at him, he’s watching me with a small grin on his face. Rolling my eyes, I internally scold myself for having manners and feeling obligated to offer him some of my dinner. “There’s plenty if you want some, and I even have some sake that I’ll share, but I swear to God if you say one thing about my choice in movies, I’ll make your life miserable for the next month.” I must keep the upper hand in this friendly invitation.

  Putting his hands up like I just pulled a gun on him, Paxton vows, “I wouldn’t dream of saying a word. You won’t even know I’m here, promise.” There’s laughter in his voice. I give him side eye while grinning because I’m not sure he’s capable of flying low on my radar, and I’m not sure if that is his fault or mine. Damn him for being so cute.

  “We’ll see,” I retort. He pulls some plates out of the cabinet while I take the food out of the microwave. Silently, we move around one another in the kitchen. I dish out food for both of us while he gets us utensils.

  He sighs. “Let’s not talk about this again, but I want to say sorry about our little encounter earlier. I’ll stay out of your room and make sure you have privacy.” I freeze when I feel him standing closer to me. I look up into his eyes, which are the color of the sky when a storm is rolling in—gray with flecks of a greenish color—and his expression is sincere. I don’t know what he sees in my eyes. I look into his gaze, trying to read what it might be. “We can make this work.”

  Nodding, I turn back to the food and finish putting it on our plates. “Don’t worry about it. We’ll make it work.” I pick up my plate and start to walk away. I can feel him watching me. “We used to be friends, right? How hard can it be, even if you do get under my skin with expertise?” I look back for one brief moment and smile at my joke. Paxton isn’t smiling. He just picks up his plate and joins me in the living room.

  We sit on opposite ends of the sofa from one another, and I click the movie on while he pours each of us a small ceramic cup of sake then hands one to me.

  “Thanks.” I touch it to my mouth and tilt it back. The burn in my throat feels good.

  We eat in silence, watching the movie and eating our food. Every once in a while, he pours us a refill. It’s sweet and surprisingly comfortable.

  A little more than halfway through the movie, Paxton clears his throat. I look over at him and realize he’s debating saying something. I want to laugh because I can tell either whatever he wants to say makes him uneasy or he’s afraid I’m going to bite his head off for talking during the movie.

  I decide to put him out of his misery. “Say whatever it is you want to say, Pax.”

  He turns and faces me, a serious look on his face. It’s not an expression I’m used to seeing from Pax. Usually, he’s being funny, saracastic, and annoying, never serious.

  “I was just thinking, do you think people can actually meet someone at a young age like this, fall in love, be separated, and then come together again?” His question shocks me. I even feel a slight stab of pain, but I’m not quite clear about what he means.

  He must see the confusion on my face because he tries to explain. “What I mean is, can a love you find when you’re young last a considerable span of time when you’re separated and grow into different people? Do you believe that’s possible?”

  How in the hell am I supposed to keep this living situation simple when he asks shit like this? I should’ve chosen Guardians of the Galaxy when he decided to join me tonight. I also realize I’m going to answer him honestly.

  Turning toward him and bringing my feet up onto the couch, movie forgotten, I take a minute to gather my thoughts. “Yeah, I think it’s possible.” I look at his face and acknowledge that the years have been kind to him. He’s beginning to get small crinkles at the corners of his eyes, but I know it because everything is a joke. He’s happy. Paxton tilts his head a little; his expression tells me he’s trying to understand why I’m looking at him the way I am.

  After a moment, I continue, “I think, for some people, it’s absolutely possible.” I pause, gathering my thoughts, willing my emotions not to get the best of me. “Then there are some people who fall in love with the idea of someone. Even if it feels like the most real thing in the world to them, it’s never realized, and when that person comes back into their lives, everything has changed.”

  I’m so lost in the idea of what I’m saying, I don’t notice I am on the verge of tears until Paxton says my name questioningly. “Cass?”

  I look away and busy myself pouring one last shot of sake then letting it slide down my throat before I begin picking up our plates. I can feel his eyes on my every move, but Paxton doesn’t say anything. For once, he doesn’t push me. He lets it go, which I know goes completely against his nature where I’m concerned.

  “I think I’m done for the night,” I tell him without looking his way. “I’m tired and I have an early meeting with my editor.” I walk away toward the kitchen then stop without turning around. “Thanks, Pax, for the company.” I don’t say more, just continue to the kitchen, thinking to myself that he might be right—this isn’t going to be so bad after all.

  Tiny white lies, avoidance—these are the things that come along with trying to be friends with Paxton.

  He doesn’t move, just turns back to the movie. “Good night Cass. See you in the morning.”

  “Good night Pax,” I whisper. It’s been a while, but tonight my
mind will be busy reminding my heart we’re not supposed to feel too much when it comes to Paxton Luke.

  Present

  Taking a sip from my coffee cup, I listen to one of the account mangers in the east coast office jabber on and on about our new project. I follow along on the PowerPoint set up on my computer, grateful they can’t see me yawn every thirty seconds of this entirely-too-early-for-the-west-coast meeting.

  Meetings like this won’t happen often, and thank God for that because it’s six in the morning. I’m exhausted, but when they do need me to be prepared and awake and direct questions my way, I can answer with efficiency. Normally, I would be well rested and wide awake, but after Cass went to bed last night, I couldn’t sleep. I thought about her response to my question—can a person find love at a young age and it actually last? It ran through my mind over and over until my brain decided to switch to thinking about the change in her mood after she answered me.

  Overall, this meeting is going better than expected.

  Trying to keep my volume down so I don’t wake Cass, I interrupt my coworker. “Excuse me, Tom. It’s all well and good if we follow this timeline to perfection, which I’m confident we will. My only concern is we aren’t the only ones with our hands in this and we’ve left no margin for error if someone doesn’t keep pace with us. What is our plan to ensure we are prepared for this?” As Tom addresses my question, my attention is drawn to the near silent gait of someone behind me.

  When I look over my shoulder, Cass freezes. Her tiny pajama shorts show entirely too much skin after our encounter yesterday. She gives me an apologetic smile—so damn cute. I wave her off with a smile of my own, trying my damnedest to pay attention to everything Tom is saying over the line since I’m the one who brought up this potential problem.

  Once he finishes proposing a solution to our small issue, I respond, hoping we can finish this meeting. “Well, if we can make that work, I’d say we can expect the job to go well for us.” I can hear Cass quietly moving around in the kitchen; it’s distracting, yet comforting in a strange way. “Sounds good. Let’s touch base in a week then again a week before we break ground.” I pause as they all say their goodbyes. “Yes, thanks guys. We’ll talk soon.”

  As I hang up the phone, Cass tiptoes past me and sits down, curling her feet under her in the overstuffed floral-print armchair next to me. I watch as she silently takes a sip, closing her eyes as it touches her lips. It’s the most blissful look I’ve ever seen on her face. A small ache forms in my chest and I begin rubbing it away.

  When her eyes open, she smiles sweetly. “Good morning. I hope it’s okay if I sit here. I can always go stand in the kitchen and drink my coffee.”

  “Good morning, and no, it’s fine. I’m done with my call.” My voice sounds a little foreign to my ears. I pick up my coffee and take a drink. “Sorry if I woke you up.”

  “No, you didn’t,” she answers quickly. She smiles then continues a little more softly, “I have a conference call with my editor in half an hour so I set my alarm.” Pointing at herself, she adds, “This girl doesn’t function without at least two cups of coffee to begin her day.”

  “Ah, I get that completely,” I agree. “I still have a few calls to make, but if I’m going to be in your way, I can always go in my room. I get that you weren’t expecting to have me around.” Setting my coffee down, I begin gathering my things.

  Suddenly, Cass leans forward, her silky hand covering mine, stopping me. “Pax, stop. It’s fine. I’ll go into my room for my call, and then if you don’t mind having me in the same room, I’ll sit at the table when I start going over my rewrites.” I look down at her hand resting on mine and she quickly pulls it away.

  “Yeah…yeah, that’s fine. We’ll just work around one another,” I agree.

  “Good.” She stands, heading in the direction of the kitchen. Just before she reaches it, she turns back. “Oh and Pax, it’s strange hearing you sound so professional when I know what an inappropriate jackass you can be.” She giggles then disappears into the kitchen.

  “Ha-ha!” I call out after her, shaking my head with a huge grin on my face.

  Turning my attention back to the design plans for the new building, I begin making notes on the various papers in front of me.

  I get a little lost in my work, and it feels good. I’m good—no, I’m great at my job, and it’s nice to feel in my element again because I’ve felt a little lost since I moved back home. At some point, I hear Cass on the phone in her room, but then I easily get caught back up in my own calls and work.

  I’m not sure how much time has gone by when a plate of food suddenly appears in my view on the coffee table in front of me.

  Looking up, my eyes land on the back of Cass as she walks away. “Hey, what’s this?”

  Twisting back around, she shrugs her shoulders. “I made some food and knew you couldn’t possibly have eaten because you’ve been sitting there all morning. I thought you might be hungry. No biggie.” When she starts to walk away I jump up and reach for arm, pull her around, and hug her.

  She stiffens and then relaxes, her arms gradually returning my embrace.

  “Thank you, Cass.” When I release her, confusion and shock are written across her face.

  “Uh, you’re welcome.” She tilts her head to the side like she’s trying to work out a puzzle. “Really, Pax, it was nothing,” Cass assures me.

  Looking down into her eyes, I’m overcome with the urge to apologize. “I know, but I wanted to say thank you anyway.” This feeling isn’t something I’ve felt in a long time. I never apologize, because I do everything with purpose. “Cass, I understand this living situation isn’t ideal. I get that we’re trying to get to know one another again as friends, but there has been this wall between us for years, one I helped build. You always seem to pull me into this overwhelming need to push you because I can see you don’t really like me.” She begins to say something but I keep going. “Let me finish. I’m not sure when things changed between us. Sure, you are Laney’s friend, but I always thought we were friends in a weird way too. So…shit, what I’m saying is I’m going to work hard on not being an asshole and trying to make sharing an apartment with me as easy as possible for you.”

  A small smile begins to spread slowly across her face.

  “Damn Pax, I’m not sure I’ve ever heard you say so much at one time.” A giggle escapes and it hits me right in the chest. “I think we can definitely work on being friends. I’m working hard on letting go of my past annoyances with you.” She grins. “This situation isn’t what you expected either, so don’t worry about it. Things are going to be fine between us. Now eat, the food is actually a ploy to keep your mouth closed because I’m going to start working on my manuscript since my editor sent it back to me.”

  Now her grin covers her entire face and laughter dances in her clear blue eyes. It’s contagious and before I know it, I’m smiling too.

  “Fine, but I’ll take care of dinner.”

  “Yes! My evil plan is a success. I was counting on you saying that because I don’t think I’ll be moving for a while.”

  Without another word, she saunters over to where she has her computer and notebooks all laid out on the table and gets to work.

  My lips tip up at one corner. Yeah, this may not be so bad after all.

  Present

  I haven’t moved from my spot at the table in about five hours except for the two times I got up to use the bathroom. Paxton brought me a refill of coffee twice along with a couple of cans of sparkling water during that time. I requested a bag of trail mix, and he added that to the pile of papers without a single complaint. He basically waited on me all day. Sometimes he moved about the room on a conference call, and I occasionally found myself watching him.

  Today isn’t the first time I’ve compared the Paxton of today with the Paxton of ten years ago. He hasn’t really changed much. I noticed the other night that the years have been kind to him, but there is something in him that’s dif
ferent. There have been a couple moments where he’s acted just as he always did, but it’s obvious it’s not really who he is anymore. He’s almost softer toward me in some ways.

  But, as I’ve sat here today, I’ve mostly been working. It’s been at least an hour since I’ve noticed Pax; I’ve been so lost in this chapter, trying to get it just right and make it flow with the rest of the story. I struggled a bit at first, but I think I finally got it.

  Rubbing my eyes, I realize I need to stop for the night.

  Suddenly, I’m aware of the smell of garlic and something else filling the air around me. My stomach growls loudly as I hit save on my document and shut my computer down. When I glance at my phone, I notice I’ve missed three calls from Richard throughout the day. Quickly tapping out a message, I apologize for missing his calls and let him know I’ve been super busy with edits and will call him tomorrow.

  Setting my phone back down, I leave all of my stuff sitting on the table, stretch, and walk toward the bedroom. I can hear Paxton in the kitchen cooking, so I decide to take a quick shower and wash my face before the food is ready.

  When I get into the room, I shut the door behind me, undress, and quickly shower. The hot water feels amazing on my aching shoulders, but I don’t stay in very long. I get out and quickly change into comfortable clean clothes, and I feel so much better.

  With one last check in the mirror, I wander back into the living room and find Paxton setting out dinner on the round coffee table.

  “Hey,” Pax greets me, smiling.

  “Hey,” I return, pulling my hair up and twisting it into a bun.

  He continues moving around, arranging everything for us. “So, I made some pasta with sundried tomatoes, roasted garlic, and a little basil then baked some chicken breast. I wasn’t sure what you’d want, but I distinctly remember you loving Italian night at my house so I figured pasta of any kind would be good.” Paxton walks back toward the kitchen, but before he disappears around the corner, he looks back at me. “Sit down and dig in, I forgot the wine glasses and bread.”

 

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