Love Wasted

by Shirl Rickman

  When he comes back a few minutes later, I’ve already served both of us a helping and opened the bottle of pinot noir.

  Neither of us says a word, and the silence is comfortable. When I take my first bite, I groan in delight. “Mmmmm, Pax, this is amazing. Thank you.”

  His face lights up in a pleased expression. “My pleasure. So how are the rewrites coming along?” he asks before taking his own bite. “Man, this is good.”

  I laugh. “Still cocky, I see. I guess that hasn’t changed.” We grin at one another while stuffing our faces full of pasta. When I finish chewing my bite, I take a sip of wine and answer his question. “They’re going well. I got a lot done so thanks for the making sure I had food and liquids to make it through the day. It was nice…this is nice. What about you? The part of your day I heard sounds like you’re working on a major project.” Taking a huge bite of pasta, I almost laugh when his eyes go wide. “What? I like food,” I announce proudly.

  Shaking his head, he allows a quiet laugh to slip out. “I see that. As for work, yeah, a massive project. We’re working on a building remodel in the Civic Center Historic District. There’s a lot riding on it and I’m overseeing it. It means a lot to me because it’s my baby, my first design I’ve done alone start to finish. It’s everything I’ve worked for, Cass. It’s pretty much the only thing I’ve ever wanted out of life for as long as I can remember. It feels good.”

  If there’s one thing I know about Paxton Luke, it’s that he has always been driven. He wanted to be an architect for as long as I can remember, and I haven’t heard anything from Laney or our parents to indicate anything has changed. Paxton always made it clear it’s the only thing he’s always wanted from life, and he’s doing it. I’m so happy for him, but I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit that it hurts a little.

  It’s not like he would’ve ever chosen me, even if his work wasn’t his whole world, but deep down I know it’s why even as we got older, he never saw the possibility—not even the one time he came home for winter break and kissed me. We felt something, but then he said too much as usual. Of course, my absolute conviction of my hatred of him didn’t give any clue that I might feel otherwise, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway at that point, and it seems his life focus hasn’t changed.

  “That’s amazing, Pax. You deserve it. I know you’ve always wanted this. I can’t remember a time you didn’t talk about becoming a successful architect, and you’ve done it.” I’m praising him, telling him not what I think he wants to hear, but the truth.

  There’s a shift between us. I’m not sure what it means or if he even notices it, but I do. I don’t feel as angry, and it’s the strangest feeling because I’ve spent so many years really angry.

  I guess I don’t completely hate Paxton Luke after all.

  Past

  Cass: Age 16

  Paxton: Age 18

  Tommy Shepard has definitely improved his kissing skills since the first time we kissed in the eighth grade. My first kiss was a ploy to get Pax’s attention, and you can guess how that turned out—complete failure. He didn’t even notice.

  Now, only two years later, I’m standing in my front yard just beyond a tree, finding out a kiss can feel like something special. Every sixteen-year-old girl wants to feel like her experience is distinct from any other.

  Tommy’s hand begins to move to the hem of my t-shirt, lifting it slowly, and my mind pauses a minute, questioning the decision to let him continue. Then he tilts his head just a little, making our lips seem so compatible that my head becomes foggy.

  As his hand moves up the flat, smooth skin of my belly, I sigh, and that’s when I’m startled by the booming voice of the one person I least expected at this moment.

  “Cass, what the hell?”

  Dropping my shirt immediately, Tommy quickly takes a step backward, stumbling away from me.

  Eyes wide, I stare, shocked at an angry Paxton Luke. Tommy looks like he might be sick, his eyes never leaving Pax’s stoic face.

  “I…I…” Shit. Get it together Cass. I know Paxton feeds off of my lack of confidence. Squaring my shoulders, I clear my throat. “I feel like that should be my question to you. I’m on a date, and you’re interrupting.”

  Pax’s eyes narrow then his gaze bounces between Tommy and me. Tommy now looks like he’s gone past the sick point and straight to the edge of death.

  Stuttering, Tommy blurts out, “I didn’t realize she was yours, Pax. I mean, I heard…well, never mind what I heard, but it was an accident.”

  “What?” Pax and I exclaim at the same time, both staring at Tommy incredulously.

  “What have you heard?” Pax’s face has changed from red to a sort of weird ashen color.

  “I’m not his!” My voice is strangled. Those words never fail to sting a little.

  “It’s just… You know what, I gotta go. I’ll miss curfew.” Tommy practically sprints to his car without a glance back.

  Without thinking, I swing and smack Pax on the arm. My hand stings a little.

  “My turn—what the hell, Pax?” Angry, I continue, “You’ve got to stop scaring all the boys off!”

  Rubbing his arm, he smirks. “You hit me.”

  “Don’t you dare smile at me!” I scold him, but damn if I don’t love that crooked smile.

  “Look, Cass, Tommy Shepard is an asswipe. You don’t need to be kissing him, let alone letting him feel you up. It would be all over the locker room,” he lectures. Being lectured by Pax drives me insane.

  “It’s none of your business!” The volume of my voice rises as I speak.

  I try stepping around him, but he wraps his hand around my arm, swinging me around.

  “You are my business, Cass,” he insists. I can’t read the expression his face, but he looks like he’s in pain. There’s anger, and there’s something else I can’t put my finger on.

  My heart resents him, hates him…loves him.

  “No. I’m. Not. Stop this, Pax. Quit coming to my rescue when I don’t ask for it—when I don’t need it. Stop doing this to me. Why are you always butting in? What do you want?” The words spill from my mouth, words I shouldn’t say, words I’ve always needed to say.

  Releasing my arm, he takes a step away, turning toward his house. Staring after him, feeling a little defeated, I shake my head and turn for my own front door.

  His voice freezes my retreat, but I don’t turn around. “Because you’re Laney’s best friend and she cares about if you’re hurt or not.” He swallows before continuing, “I don’t want anything from you.”

  When I walk through the front door, I slam it behind me and walk past my very confused parents sitting in the living room.

  “Hey Paxton, is everything okay? What’s with slamming the door?” my dad asks.

  With my head down, I continue toward the hallway. “Sorry. Everything is fine, I’m just tired. I’m going to bed.”

  I don’t even wait for their response because my control is dwindling fast. I hear them both say, “Good night,” in unison.

  I push the door to my room open then close it, careful not to shut it with too much force.

  I can’t help it—my eyes lift to the window next to my desk that faces toward her bedroom. Her light is on and I can see her silhouette moving around behind the curtain. I walk over and yank my curtains closed then fall back onto my bed

  “Dammit!” I let out a frustrated groan.

  I lost my cool the moment I stepped out of my truck and saw that prick Tommy Shepard’s hands on her. He was touching her soft skin, kissing her plump red lips. I wanted to rip his fucking head off. I almost did—then I remembered I don’t do those things. I definitely don’t get emotional over Cass.

  I acted like an asshole and as usual, I hurt her.

  Closing my eyes, I try to remind myself of all the reasons why I don’t allow myself to give in. Losing it the way I did doesn’t do anything but widen the distance between Cass and me, which might actually be for the best. It’s definitely for
the best. I’m about to leave for school anyway, and I need to stop hurting her. She needs to live her life because I sure as hell am going to live mine. Nothing will stand in my way.

  I need to stay away from her because it isn’t fair to either of us if I don’t. When will I learn? Maybe I won’t, or maybe one day I will. Maybe one day Cassandra Porter won’t affect me the way she does now.

  Maybe.

  One day.

  Present

  Richard is here. This could go very badly…or this could be a good thing. I haven’t exactly told him Paxton is living here with me. It’s not that I’m hiding it from him, we just haven’t spoken much and it hasn’t come up. I need to tell him now though because Pax could be back at any minute.

  When I open the door, he smiles and kisses me on the cheek. I invite him in and as he follows me into the apartment, he wraps his arms around my waist from behind, pulling me close.

  “I’ve missed you.” His husky voice flutters over the skin of my neck, causing goose bumps to pop up.

  Turning in his arms, I look up at him and smile. “It’s only been four days since I saw you, but there is something I need—” He pulls me against him, interrupting me by placing his lips over mine. One thing I’ve always loved about Richard is the way he kisses.

  The kiss is warm and inviting, so very Richard, there’s just one problem—something is off. It’s reminiscent of the first days in our relationship. I enjoyed the way the kiss felt, but I couldn’t seem to lose myself in it then…and now suddenly I can’t all over again. My heart was confused before my birthday party, and now things are even more complicated.

  “Cassandra.” Richard says my name, walking me backward until my back touches the wall. His hand travels delicately over my skin and he nips at me just the way I like it, making me feel weak in the knees. He moves his mouth back over mine, deepening the kiss. My mind reminds me of our history; my body reminds me of the familiarity. Richard deserves for me to at least pay attention to what we have.

  Wrapping my arms around his neck, I accept his kiss. As soon as I do, I hear the door slam behind us. We pull apart immediately, and I’m left staring at a stunned Paxton standing in the foyer.

  “Who the hell are you?” I hear Richard demand then he glances my direction quickly before turning back to Paxton.

  I have no words, especially when Paxton begins walking toward us. His eyes are trained on me until he is standing directly in front of us, and then they move to Richard. Sticking his hand out, Paxton greets him. “You must be Dick!” I cringe at the nickname because I know Richard hates it, not to mention there’s a ring of sarcasm in Paxton’s voice.

  Richard takes his hand reluctantly and responds, “Richard…and you are?” My eyes are still bouncing between them.

  “Paxton Luke, Laney’s brother.”

  “And my current roommate!” I blurt out. They both look back in my direction like they’re just remembering I’m here. Richard looks like he just took a blow to his pride, and Paxton’s lips are turned up at both corners. I can read his eyes—he knows I’m uncomfortable, and he thrives on it.

  “Well, that’s my cue,” Paxton announces, turning and heading toward his room. Just before he leaves the room, he turns back, grinning. “Oh, and pleased to meet you, Dick.” Then he disappears through his door.

  I can feel Richard’s eyes boring down on me. Quickly, I face him. “I tried to tell you!”

  “When?” He begins pacing, stopping with his hands on his hips as he waits for my answer. “Well?”

  “Look, I did, or at least I was going to, but then we got a little sidetracked,” I say, trying to explain. I reach out and place my hand on his arm. “It’s Paxton. I’ve known him my whole life…he’s like my…” I swallow hard because I’m about to say something that’s never been true. “He’s like my brother.”

  “He didn’t look at you like a brother looks at a sister, Cassandra.” His voice is hard.

  Dropping my hand, I straighten my shoulders. “Are you kidding me? This isn’t an issue; it’s just temporary.” My anger is rising because he is both wrong and right at that the same time and I know it. Nothing is ever black and white between Paxton and me, but that doesn’t mean anything is going on. We got along for two days—barely; what’s the big deal? I just don’t want to explain myself to Richard about Paxton or anything to do with him.

  “Is this why you didn’t want to stay with me? Is something going—”

  Pointing my finger at him, I shout, “Don’t you dare finish that sentence!”

  “What? I mean, he reappears in town and suddenly you start doing your Cass thing,” he accuses.

  “My Cass thing? Jesus, Richard, this is ridiculous.” I’m getting angrier and angrier. “Paxton and our living arrangement have nothing to do with you and me. We’ve been doing this dance for years. Just last month you told me you weren’t sure you’d ever be ready for a real commitment. We go through the same old thing all the time, dammit. Everything is fine—or at least I thought it was,” I argue.

  He walks over to me and pulls me into a hug.

  “Not to mention, I’m on deadline, so if I’ve seemed distant, it’s that and nothing else.” I accept his embrace.

  “I’m sorry. I just was surprised, that’s all.” I can tell he means it.

  “Remember, we promised honesty will always come first,” I remind him.

  Richard kisses me, hard and demanding, like he’s staking a claim, but it’s brief. “I gotta go because I have an early flight, but I’ll be back in time for New Year’s Eve on Saturday. What time should I be here?”

  We walk over to the door as I answer. “Let’s say eight o’clock?”

  “Sounds good.” He leans forward and kisses me sweetly on my forehead.

  “Be safe, and see you when you get back.” I hug Richard and shut the door behind him.

  When the door is closed, I lean my back against it and let out a long sigh. Everything feels wrong, even more so than it did a few weeks ago. Walking to the living room, I fall back onto the couch. I lie there a moment and listen carefully for any indication that Paxton is moving behind that wall.

  I think about the look on his face—there was something in the way his eyes met mine, like he was asking me for something, but I don’t know what it is. I’m a little torn. Richard believes me when I say this has nothing to do with Paxton…the problem is, I don’t know if I believe me.

  Present

  I almost did something foolish. It felt like someone took a knife and gutted me when I walked in on Cass kissing that dipshit, Richard. I don’t even know him, but I hate him already.

  It started my first night back in town when I saw him pawing at her, but tonight it was worse. I hated the way he touched her. Kissed her. Looked at her. Talked to her. Jesus, what is my problem? I knew she was with him, and it’s Cass—why does it even matter?

  Picking up my phone, I tap the screen and wait for her to answer.

  “Hello.” Her voice echoes from the other end of the line. Thank God.

  “Laney, tell me about this Richard guy.”

  “Pax, what in the hell are you talking about?” She sounds confused and distracted.

  Feeling annoyed, I huff out, “Tell me about Richard. Tell me who, what, when, and especially, why Cass is with this guy.”

  She whispers to someone, her voice muffled, and then she speaks to me. “What is going on Pax? Why all the interest in Richard? I mean—oh my god, are you jealous?” There’s a bit of shock and excitement in her voice.

  “What? No! It’s just…I want to know because I don’t think I like him.” I’m trying to explain myself to her but am failing miserably.

  “Dude, you are acting weird, but here is what I will tell you: Richard is a guy—nice when he wants to be, but mostly an ass. For whatever reason, Cass has put up with his shit for the last five years, and he has put up with hers. It’s been an on-and-off thing. As for why? That’s not a question I can answer, so grow a pair and ask her yours
elf.” She sighs. “God damn, this is weird. I’m hanging up now. Don’t ever call me again. Mkay. Love you. Bye.”

  I hold my phone out and stare at it. She told me everything and nothing. What I heard is that Cass has history with this Richard guy, even if it has been inconsistent. History… Sitting on the side of the bed, I place my hands on my knees then lie back and stare at the ceiling.

  The look on Cass’s face when I walked in was guilty; I can’t imagine what she saw on mine. It felt wrong seeing her kiss him, just like before, but tonight it physically hurt. Whatever it is I’m feeling, I can’t do it. I don’t want it.

  I hear muffled voices coming from the living room and I can tell he’s angry. It appears Cass didn’t let him know I am staying here too; I wonder why. Squeezing my eyes shut, I remind myself that the why doesn’t matter. This is Cass.

  Their voices grow quiet, muffled, less angry sounding. I shouldn’t be here. Why didn’t I turn around as soon as I walked in? Because I am an arrogant asshole, that’s why. I tried to make them uncomfortable. Dammit. She always does this to me.

  Suddenly, I hear the door close. They must’ve left. Thank God. Now I can breathe again. I need to think about why I felt the way I did meeting him and how I’ll deal with it the next time I see him, because there’s no way in hell I’m going to be hiding out in my room every time he’s over here.

  After a few minutes, there’s still no sign of them.

  Deciding to head into the kitchen to make dinner, I get up and walk out of my room. As soon as I walk out, I see Cass, standing in front of the couch, facing me.

  “Oh, I thought you and Dick left,” I say nonchalantly, taking a jab in the process. I never said I was mature.