High Maintenance (A Novella)

by Lia Fairchild

  Back at my apartment, Nathan followed me up the walkway. At the top of the stairs, Alyssa sat outside her door feeding a stray cat.

  “Don’t let Cruella see you doing that in here,” I said, bending over to scratch the top of the cat’s head.

  “No shit,” Alyssa said. Her ingenuous eyes stayed glued to the little tabby. “She won’t be up for hours.”

  “Where’s your mom?” Nathan asked.

  “Like I know that.” She stood and yanked up her tight skinny jeans. “Got any cash? I could go grab us some donuts.” She smiled and held out her hand like it was a done deal. I wasn’t the only damsel Nathan would rescue on occasion.

  He dug into his jeans pocket and pulled out two crumpled bills. “Sorry, I only have six bucks.” He rolled coffee-colored eyes in my direction. “I left in such a hurry I forgot my wallet.”

  Alyssa snatched the cash from his hand. “No biggie.” She shoved the money into her back pocket and then picked up the kitten, caressing her cheek against its fur. “Thanks. What do you guys want?”

  “We’re good,” I said, pulling my keys from my purse. “Nathan’s on a diet.” I gave her a squinty smile.

  Alyssa shrugged and headed down the stairs.

  I tossed my things onto the couch and then collapsed next to them. My feet pushed at each heel until they thumped onto the carpet. Had I slept at all last night? Distinguishing between sleep and awake was not always easy for me, especially in a strange bed. Nathan fell in place next to me, and I noted we still hadn’t said a word to each other. He put his arm around me and I leaned into him, resting my head on his comforting shoulder. I played with the buttons on his shirt for a second and then said, “I’m sorry.”

  “I know,” he said.

  * * *

  I must have dozed off, because my eyes popped open at sounds and smells coming from the kitchen. I turned to find Nathan at the stove, his back to me. I stared at his broad shoulders and examined how his back muscles pressed tightly inside his white T-shirt and his half-sleeve tattoo showed on his left arm. For a moment, an image flashed in my mind of me grasping that shirt in my eager fists and pulling it over his head. I sighed, closed my eyes, and then took a deep breath, drawing in the scent of bacon. Yes, better to focus on food.

  When I opened my eyes, he turned toward the sink, grabbing my gaze with his. “Hey, gorgeous. You hungry?” he asked with an innocent grin.

  “Always.”

  “Then you better get your ass over here and make something. This is all mine.”

  I grinned and scoffed. “So, you can cook for hundreds of people every day, but not me?”

  He kept his head down as he rinsed a glass bowl in the sink. “Well, they do pay me and…I think I’ve done enough for you today.” Those dark eyes peeked up at me, testing my reaction.

  I reached for my phone, aimlessly scrolling without paying attention to him. I reread the last text I got from Evyn, asking me how things were going with Dr. Wallace. Another person in my life who amazingly hadn’t given up on me…yet. I went to my pictures and clicked on camera roll. I thought of the boy in the window and started scrolling to the top of the list until I found what I was looking for. I brushed my finger across Noah’s smiling face before clicking it off. When nothing but silence came from Nathan, I rose from the couch and went to sit at the bar. “I’m really getting off that easy?”

  “What would be the point of asking?” he said as he pulled plates from the cupboard.

  He knew I couldn’t stand when he turned things around on me like that. “Last night wasn’t a plan, you know? Let’s call it…a setback.”

  He grabbed the pan from the stove and gracefully shifted a piled of eggs onto each plate. “Yep.”

  I’d always found watching his cooking to be sexy and artistic, but today my irritation took over. “You’re an ass,” I said, taking the plate from his hand and adding a couple of strips of bacon.

  Nathan ran a hand through his wavy dark hair in frustration. “Fine…Did you even like the guy?”

  “Sure.” I smiled. “He’s highly intelligent. A corporate lawyer or something.”

  Nathan’s head fell to his chest. He shook it a couple of times and then sighed. I wasn’t trying to annoy him; it was just how things worked out for us sometimes.

  “Fine,” I said before picking up my fork. “I couldn’t hear a damn word he said over that annoying music they were playing, but I did like how he kept staring at my legs.” I scooped a bit of eggs into my mouth and chewed while Nathan regarded whether or not this answer was the truth. If anyone could tell that from me it was him. And sometimes I wanted someone to know about me.

  “Jeez, Gray. You’re the only woman I know who gets off on pervs ogling her body.”

  “He wasn’t a perv.” I stared straight ahead, avoiding the angry eyes that seared into my skin. His reactions seemed to be getting worse. It wasn’t like I never had to deal with this crap from him.

  He came around to sit next to me, but kept his head forward. “Why didn’t you have your car?”

  “Lost it in a poker game,” I said, but his sigh pushed another attempt from me. “I…uh…went out with Becca and Barb.” I flinched before I finished the sentence. Nathan couldn’t stand my twin aunts. They took the matching thing to a whole new level when they each left their cheating husbands, filed for divorce, and moved in together. Becca is still going through hers.

  “Wow, you must have been desperate. Seriously?” He turned his body and gave me a disgusted look. “Those two are like Mary Kate and Ashley after they came back from pet cemetery.”

  “God, that’s dead-on.” I managed a grin. “But they’re not that bad. Besides, they helped me out, and I couldn’t say no. I was broke, and Barb had someone from her work fix my laptop.” Of course, when I went to pick it up, they had to drag me out with them. A classic case of bait and switch. They used me to lure the men over, hoping to snag another husband, and I got free apps and drinks. But ultimately those two have watched over me, helped me when I was in need, even if they were like Cinderella’s step-sisters and the fairy godmother all rolled into one.

  He turned forward again and dug aggressively into his eggs. Nathan had that stereotypical temper of a head chef, but he never displayed it at work, and thankfully kept it under control around me. He’d had his share of trips to the principal’s office and wasn’t a stranger to a bar fight. But since we’d known each other, he’d only had a few setbacks. “You know I hate it when you’re not being safe.”

  “Hey, we used protection.” I smirked, trying to win his mood back. I tilted my head in his direction only to find the opposite expression on his face.

  His fork clanked onto his plate. “You know what I meant.” He kicked his chair back, getting up at the same time. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore, Gray.” He wandered toward the door.

  I followed behind him. “Hey, wait. Don’t go.” My blood started to heat at the thought of him trying to leave, holding his presence hostage for my behavior. That wasn’t what we did.

  He halted in his tracks, still facing the door. I had no idea what words he’d say when he turned around. Four years of this shit between us. If we were too broken to have real relationships with other people, how could we possibly have thought we could maintain one between us? No matter what this was. Yet through it all, Nathan and I had always clung to each other like life preservers.

  He turned halfway around and shot me a sad, helpless look. “Have you ever heard the word ‘enabler’?”

  My gut wrenched in a too familiar way. “So, that’s what you are to me?” I said, growing angry as I spoke.

  “That’s what we both are, Gray. Any shrink could tell you that.”

  “What are you saying exactly?”

  He turned the rest of the way around, reached out and grabbed my hand, softening my temper. “I’m saying that I can’t watch you do this to yourself any longer.”

  “And your life is so freaking normal?” I pulled my hand fr
om his, looking away toward the window. “It’s no picnic for me either.” Though if I was being honest, this had been becoming more one-sided lately. Nathan’s family had all but disappeared into background noise, and the lingering effects had been miniscule.

  Hands grasped my shoulders, shaking me and my attention back to him, our eyes falling into a desperate connection. “Maybe we’re just…bad for each other.”

  Tears welled in my eyes, my heart ached, and my chin dropped. He gripped me tighter, knowing how I hated to be seen like that, knowing I’d pull away, try to hide. I wanted to tell him we weren’t bad for each other, or at least he wasn’t for me. I wanted to say that without him in my life I wouldn’t survive. But I couldn’t utter a single word.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. He released one hand and cupped the back of my head, pulling it into his chest. “We’ve been friends,” he whispered. “We’ve been…whatever the hell this is.” He paused. “But there’s one thing we haven’t been.”

  My head started tiny involuntary shakes into his chest before his other arm came around to my back. He laid his palm flat and gentle and then rubbed up and down. “Don’t shake your head. Don’t start thinking like that. We could try. I’m willing to try if you are.”

  I curled my lips under my teeth to stop myself from spitting out a response. To stop before a lie hurt him even more. Even if I owned the truth, words still failed to come out.

  My silence told him I was fighting tears. “I mean, who knows, we could end up being like one of those sitcom couples, laughing and playing stupid tricks on each other.” His futile attempts to make me laugh still touched me. “Gray,” he said, grabbing my face and pulling it up to him. “Say something.”

  “We…can’t. I…can’t.”

  Defeated, his eyes closed; his hands fell to his sides. “Right.”

  He turned and reached for the door, pulling the handle.

  “Wait,” I said, stopping him. “What about us now? I mean…that’s it. We’re alone now?” Panic rose in my chest.

  “I’ll never leave you alone, Gray. You can count on that.”

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Bestselling author, Lia Fairchild, is both a traditionally published and independent author who writes women's fiction, romance, and chick lit. Fans of her books praise her endearing, real characters that come to life in stories that will touch your heart.

  Fairchild is addicted to the warmth of Southern California and holds a bachelor's degree in journalism and a multiple-subject teaching credential. She is a wife and mother of two teenagers.

  Look for updates on her and her books at http://www.liafairchild.com or follow her on Twitter at https://www.twitter.com/#!/liafairchild or Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/lia.fairchild.author

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