Scared of Forever (Scared #2)

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Scared of Forever (Scared #2) Page 17

by Jacqueline Abrahams


  Chapter 27:

  Emily

  Mac, Maia, and I have started having a weekly lunch together. More recently, Maia’s friend, Jade has joined. Jackson came once or twice. Really, it was just a ruse. They didn’t want me at home moping, but then it had become our thing. Jade stopped coming along, often because out of the four of us, she was the only one who liked girls. She claimed that checking out women alone in New York was no fun. Mac tried to help her once, but all he did was comment on the knock-off designer clothing that they all wore.

  This Wednesday, it was just Maia, Mac, and I.

  “So, what happens now?” Maia asks. Of the three of us, she’s the only one who was still less than sympathetic towards Tyler.

  “We’re working things out. I need time to see how I feel about him being back. A year is a long time. And a lot’s happened,” I reply. From her stroller, Sadie lets out a small cry.

  “See, even she thinks that’s a bad idea!” Maia says stubbornly.

  “Maia, I’m giving him a chance. You took a chance on Jackson, and look where you guys are now,” I reply. “Besides, I’m not letting myself get too involved this time, until I’m sure.”

  “Pfft, please,” Mac says, rolling his eyes. “You were already ‘too involved’ the minute you opened the door and saw him standing there. Besides,” he continues, biting small pieces of his bruschetta as he talks, “have you seen the man? I think someone may be a little dick whipped. I mean, he must have a fucking magic bullet if you’re still pining after a whole year!”

  Maia slaps Mac across the arm.

  “Thanks, you saved me the trouble,” I say to Maia. “Besides, when you’ve only ever slept with two guys, he’s either the best, or the second best.”

  “I have to go.” Mac says suddenly, looking at his watch. “Janie will be pissed if I’m late.”

  He races off, and Maia immediately turns her attention back to me, her brow creased with concern.

  “What?” I ask, laughing and taking a bite of my focaccia.

  “Emily, not even Mac knows how devastated you were. I do. I just hope that this time is different, and I hope you keep at least a little of your guard up.”

  I shake my head. “I was angry. I really wanted to hate him Maia, I did. But I can’t. I owe it to myself and to my daughter to see where we end up. I can’t go into this guarded. I won’t. But that doesn’t mean I’m rushing to the altar or rushing to his bed. You think I don’t know that Tyler could really break my heart, again? He called yesterday, and we agreed that he would come and see Sadie soon. And as for the rest, we’ll take it as it comes.”

  “I admire your courage,” she says with a smile.

  “You know how they say people are in your life for a reason or a season? Well, Blake was one of those people. All the signs were there, and I ignored the nagging thoughts, the suspicions. I willed them away. But my relationship with Blake, however messed up I now realize it was, was what opened my eyes to how amazing Tyler was. Is,” I say, popping a French fry in my mouth. “My instincts told me to keep Sadie, and it has been the greatest joy of my life. And now, they’re telling me to give Tyler a chance. And I’m gonna trust them. And see what happens.”

  “Wow,” Maia says. “Do you have any idea how proud I am of you right now?” She reaches over and places a hand over mine. “Out of curiosity, how dick whipped are you, exactly?”

  “Let’s just say, on a scale of one to ten, Tyler’s a two hundred!” I exclaim, laughing. “Based on three sexual encounters!”

  Maia laughs, and Sadie giggles in her pram. And for the first time in a long time, I laugh as well. I really, truly do. It’s not okay yet, but I believe that it will be.

  Mac takes it upon himself, over the next few days, to pluck every wild hair from my body, exfoliate all offending dry skin, and cover every tiny pimple with salicylic acid pimple cream. Just in case. He justifies this body overhaul by declaring me a dead zone for a year.

  Tyler visits Sadie on Thursday, turning up at my door with a ridiculously huge bunch of half-deflated foil balloons.

  “Too much?” he asks with a grin.

  “She’s three months old,” I say with a laugh. “And I hate balloons,” I continue with a frown.

  “How can you hate balloons?” he asks.

  “They pop and make a noise!” I rebut.

  “I thought of that. I figured the popping would scare Sadie, so I had the guy fill them halfway with helium so they could just deflate on their own. Plus they’re foil, so that reduces the poppage factor also.” He shoots me a resplendent smile. “And I hired a pony for her first birthday. The guy said they book out fast.”

  “A pony?” I reply incredulously. “Again, she’s only three months old, Tyler! And besides, she’s going to grow up humble, not spoiled.”

  “One cancelled pony rental, coming up,” he says with a grin.

  “Thank you,” I laugh.

  I let Tyler in and allow my eyes to roam over his body, taking in his well-fitted jeans, loose enough to be comfortable, but still tight enough to show just an outline of his finer assets. Lord, I am severely dick whipped. I had committed to a five date rule in my mind, but I’m not going to last five minutes if I keep having these indecent thoughts.

  Tyler hasn’t picked Sadie up yet. He said that she looked so delicate, so fragile. He was scared he might hurt her. I had laughed and placed her into his arms without hesitation. One day later, apparently the fear was gone, and he was suddenly an expert. He convinces me to go out on a date with him on Saturday. The word date sounds ridiculous, a little too juvenile for our situation, but I agree nonetheless.

  Saturday arrives at a snail’s pace. Mac, as usual, insists on choosing my dress. You’d think he was going out on the date. When I called him out on it, his reply was short, yet succinct.

  “I’m living vicariously through you. Now shut up, and get dressed.”

  Tyler arrives at seven pm on the dot. By that time, I’m practically climbing the walls. Why couldn’t he be early? He refuses to tell me where we’re going, until I see him pull into the parking garage of his apartment building. I resist the urge to question why.

  Upon opening the apartment door, I gasp. Hundreds of candles cover every square inch of table and counter space. The room glows, golden and luminescent. A huge projector screen has been placed against the windows, leaving only a foot-wide space on either side. I laugh as I walk closer and see a pizza box on the small table between the two chairs, along with a bowl of microwave popcorn.

  “Do you remember everything?” I ask.

  “Everything about you, I do,” he says smiling, his gaze smoldering from below his dark brows.

  The scene is familiar. “Are you recreating the first time we met?” I ask.

  “Uh huh. Only much better. I want a do-over,” he replies, walking closer and placing a hand tenderly on my waist. “Can I kiss you?”

  God yes! My body screams. “Not yet,” my mouth answers. “As I remember, this is not the time we first kissed. It’s not authentic,” I tease. He immediately takes a step back. The warmth of his touch lingers on my skin. The atmosphere seems to grow warmer when he’s near me, and I feel an unnatural chill when he steps back. Tyler walks over to the dining room table and lays about a hundred different DVD’s out in front of me.

  “Did you rent the whole damn store?” I ask, marveling at the sheer volume of screen time before me.

  “I think maybe there were two left on the shelves, and they were porn-ish, so…”

  “No porn!” I laugh. I have enough trouble keeping my distance from him without visual aids.

  We eat the pizza, and decide on a rom com together. Tyler flicks off the lights and extinguishes some of the candles, and the room becomes cast in a moonlit glow. I look up, and hundreds of little LED lights pepper the ceiling, creating our own version of a moonlight cinema under the stars. The movie that we chose turns out to have ninety-five percent sex, and five percent voiceover, and does nothing to distract
me from my coital needs. I spend one hundred and fourteen minutes of the movie’s one hundred and twenty total swathed in an uncomfortable, hormone-induced fever.

  Eventually, we find ourselves lying side by side on the picnic blanket, staring up at the faux stars.

  “Tyler, you didn’t really need to do all of this,” I say softly.

  “I know, but I wanted to,” he replies in the same tone.

  “Would you still be here, with me, I mean, if it weren’t for Sadie?” I ask uncertainly. “Would we still be here? I mean, you don’t have the best reputation for staying in one place for long.”

  “Yes,” he says without a moment’s hesitation. He props himself up onto his elbow and leans into me. I can smell the familiar scent of his cologne, fresh and clean and absolutely Tyler. “The only thing I want more than being with you now is a time machine, to go back to the day I left, and spare us all of the regret I feel. The pain you were in. I thought I was coming back to something completely different.”

  Without thinking, I lean up on my elbows and our lips meet, underneath the stars. It’s the sweetest taste I’ve ever known. Within seconds, the kiss becomes heated. Tyler’s hands find my waist, his body closing the gap between us. Kissing him is like exhaling unimpeded; I’m finally able to breathe again. My hands move quickly of their own volition, ripping his shirt off over his head. He pulls back, eyes questioning. Looking for reassurance that this is what I wanted. It takes every ounce of willpower I possess to pull away. Being this close to Tyler is like hanging off a ledge and feeling your fingers slipping, one by one. My resolve is wearing thin.

  “Screw it,” I say furiously. “We have a whole year to make up for,” I say breathlessly, crashing my lips into his again. Tyler’s mouth expertly explores mine. I’ve never been kissed by a man who embodies raw ferociousness and tenderness so well.

  This time, he pulls back. “I fucking don’t believe I’m saying this, but let’s not do this tonight.” He stares at me sincerely, but his body betrays him by the rock solid hard on that wants nothing more than to come out of those jeans. And by the warmth of the lust that emanates from his body, naked from the torso up. My own body screams at me to protest.

  “You’re probably right,” I say sadly. “You cloud my rational mind, you know that?” I smile.

  “Don’t be sad, baby,” he says with a grin. “When I do get you back in my bed, you’re gonna need rations and an escape plan, ‘cause I may never let you leave.”

  I smile, already starting the hourly countdown in my head to date number five. We resume our shoulder-to-shoulder position on the floor.

  “When?” I say, feigning offense. “Not if?”

  “When may be tomorrow, or next week, or next month. But there will be a when. I’m only pissed that when wasn’t a year ago. But it’s not when you’re in my bed because I romance you there, it’s when you’re there because you want to be,” he says. “Thank you in advance,” he continues softly.

  “For?” I reply quietly.

  “For today. And for everything that happens after today,” he says, twirling a lock of my hair between his fingers.

  “I missed you,” I say softly.

  We fall asleep in that position, and when I wake up, I’m nestled comfortably in the crook of Tyler’s arm. The rising sun streams in through the exposed gaps in the windows. I smile contentedly. This was the first time we had ever spent the whole night together. He stirs and turns his head to face mine. His eyes are groggy, still adjusting to the harsh, sunny glare. His hair is a tousled mess.

  “You have bed head,” I tease.

  “I’m not the only one,” he quips back.

  I immediately flatten my own hair self-consciously. “Do you want breakfast?” Tyler asks, kissing me gently on the forehead before standing and walking to the kitchen.

  “You have food in here?” I tease.

  Tyler grins back sheepishly. “I bought a bag of croissants yesterday at the bakery down the road.” He opens the fridge to reveal its still empty state.

  Damn rules! Four more dates to go, I think, heat coursing through my body as I am unable to steal my eyes away from Tyler’s naked back.

  Chapter 28:

  Tyler

  Goddamn gentlemanly behavior! I drop Emily off at home, and marvel at how well my willpower withstood her being in such close proximity to me, alone, not but a few meters from a bed, a counter top, or even the floor. It’s a few days away, but next week, I take her on date number two. Five weeks. Five dates. Five long weeks. Five weeks filled with innumerable cold showers, baby oil, and my own fucking fist. Which in no way compares to Emily. I had initially laughed when she mentioned that rule of hers in the car on the way home. Until I realized I was the only one laughing. Apparently, Emily really does have a rule about five dates before sex. I did tease that technically, including last year, the next date would be the fifth. She just shoots me a playful glare.

  It took a team of audio and electrical engineers the better part of Friday to set up the stars and the ‘outdoor movie theater’ in my apartment. When I arrive back, they all stand waiting at my door, ready to take it all down. I briefly consider keeping it up, but Emily loves the view, so it has to go.

  A few hours later, I drive out to Providence, deciding to catch up with Jackson. I park at the address he gave me and make my way up the stairs. When I arrive, Jackson has just ducked out, and Maia answers the door. She looks less than impressed to see me, evident by the scowl that clouds her face as soon as the door swings open.

  “Hi, Maia,” I say sheepishly.

  “Come in,” she says, moving aside to let me inside.

  “I can wait downstairs for Jackson,” I say, slightly afraid of how pissed off she looks.

  Her face softens. “I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m still processing your return.”

  “Me too,” I say with a small smile. I follow her in and sit on the edge of the sofa.

  “Can I get you a drink?” she asks.

  “I’m fine, but thanks.”

  “Look, Tyler,” she says walking over sitting across from me. “I’ve never been great at verbalizing my opinions or feelings on, well, just about anything. So I’ll just talk. I watched Emily shattered for a whole year after you left her. She was a complete mess. And the fact that she’s giving you another chance is great. It really is. But if you hurt her again, I swear I will hire people to break your ankles. And various other parts of you.”

  “Understood,” I say quietly. “Maia, I really had no idea. I swear that on everything.”

  “Well, now you do,” she rebuts. “So let’s hope that history doesn’t repeat itself.” I think I may have bumped my head, because I swore I saw her smile.

  Just then, the door opens and Jackson walks in with a brown bag full of groceries.

  “Thanks, baby.” Maia says, walking over and taking the bag from him. She gives him a kiss on the cheek. Wow, it’s amazing to see the effect he has on her. Jackson gives me the obligatory male shoulder bump and sits.

  “I was kind of hoping I could talk to both of you,” I say.

  Maia looks up from unpacking the bag and walks over, sitting next to Jackson. “What’s up?” she asks, curiosity piqued.

  “Well, I need your help, but before you agree, it’s going to involve abduction and lying to Emily,” I continue with a smile.

  “What!” Maia baulks at my words.

  “Dude, I have no idea what you plan on doing, but I’m not in the mood to go to jail,” Jackson replies with a laugh.

  “It involves this,” I say, handing Maia a boutique bag.

  “I recognize this,” she says, pulling out the contents of the bag then continuing to eye me quizzically.

  I continue my story. I tell them the origin of the contents of the bag. Then I tell them the plan. By the time my request for assistance is complete, both Maia and Jackson are smiling. Maia is clearly a little excited, even though she would never openly admit that in front of me. She excuses herself to take
a shower, and Jackson and I walk across the road to the Clever Bean to grab a beer.

  “Not that I don’t think you are on to something great with your idea,” he says. “But what happens if it doesn’t work? I mean, Maia loves it, apart from the withholding of the truth part. This is a huge plan, though. You seem awfully confident it’ll work.”

  “It will work,” I confirm.

  “Can I be honest?”

  “Go ahead,” I reply, unsure of what he’ll say next.

  “Speaking from having had the experience of someone close to me leave, with no explanation as to why, I have to say, it fucking sucks. Emily, well, she handled it better than I would have, or better than I did, actually. The thing is, just because she took you back, doesn’t mean that she just fucking forgot last year,” he says.

  “I know, man. I don’t have control of the past, though. That’s why I’m making fucking sure that the future is different for us.”

  We walk into the Clever Bean, and my blood runs cold. Then boils. Behind the counter, removing the contents of the cash register and emptying the money into a bag, is Blake. He looks weathered. His hair is missing the small village-worth of gel he usually puts in it. His fucking clothes don’t even look clean. Jackson follows my vision and pulls me back, out the door. Blake hasn’t seen us.

  Jackson’s grip on my arm is strong, and honestly, quite painful. “This is where being from my neighborhood in the South comes in handy. If you plan on fucking him up, at least do it away from the eyes of a hundred witnesses.”

  My jaw clenches with rage, my muscles tightening under Jackson’s firm grasp.

  “Move,” he says forcefully.

  Sure enough, Blake’s car is parked down a side street a few steps away. The car is filthy on the outside, very unlike Blake. Jackson stands calmly next to a dumpster, just waiting.

  “How are you so calm?” I whisper-shout.

  “Firstly, it wasn’t my girl that he trash talked, because if it were, he wouldn’t even be breathing to be able to rob your family’s business. Secondly, where I’m from, people usually roll up with pistols. Fist fights were what we did in middle school.” Jackson shrugs casually.

 

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