Healing You

by Katana Collins

  “You don’t have to explain. You’re free to date whomever you want.”

  As she said that, she pulled her index finger to her mouth, chewing at her nail. Something inside of him broke, and he gently pulled her hand away from her lips. He didn’t want to be there tonight with Sophy. He wanted to be across from Yvonne. Only Yvonne. “But I don’t want to date just anyone.” He didn’t finish that thought, instead leaving the implications out on the line to dry.

  Could he really give this another try? And would she even let him? He ran his nose along her jaw, teasing her with just the faintest brush of his lips against her soft skin. She inhaled a sharp breath, her chest expanding with it, and her breasts pushed against the seams of her silky dress. Steve wrapped his other hand around her ribs, gently moving his thumb in circles. “I’ve really missed you.”

  A humorless laugh exploded from her lips as she shoved his shoulders away from her. “You’ve missed me? You’ve missed me?” she repeated. “You’ve got to be kidding. You alienated me, Steve. You never came to visit me in the hospital. You wanted nothing to do with me for years! You broke my heart.”

  “We both know you didn’t want to see me in the hospital. You were pissed.”

  “I was only pissed after you didn’t come to see me.”

  Steve shook his head. Christ. Was he supposed to just forget about that letter? Ignore all the terrible things she said to him in it? “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner. But it was pretty damn clear you didn’t want me there and excuse me for not forcing myself into a situation where I wasn’t welcome. So, yes, I stayed away. You deserved someone who wouldn’t be so fearful of breaking you. Someone who wouldn’t put his adventures before your safety.”

  “They were my adventures, too. It was my life to put in danger or keep safe. Not yours. And you sound an awful lot like my parents right now.” She gulped and somehow her hands had landed on the lapels of his jacket. Smoothing Steve’s tie, her touch glided down his chest and the motion made his breath stall. Why was she touching him? The tenderness of her fingers on his body were completely opposite of her words and tone.

  “I am sorry I hurt you, leaving for college without saying goodbye. But after the hospital, it seemed like it was what you wanted,” he answered.

  “Your attempt at a clean break? That was never what I wanted,” she whispered, finally dragging her hands up the back of his neck and tugging on his hair. Steve groaned, brushing his hands down her ribs and landing on her waist.

  “Steve,” she moaned and her voice shot through his body.

  He closed his eyes, dropping his forehead to hers. The next thing he knew, his lips were against hers. Sweeping over her mouth, he tongued hers open and she didn’t resist at all. Her arms curved more around his neck until she was hugging his body against hers. Her soft breasts pushed against his body and he groaned, capturing her bottom lip between his teeth with a growl.

  She gasped, and he didn’t know who moved first, but then she was sitting on the sink counter, her legs wrapped around his waist. Her heels dug into his ass, pulling him harder against her body as he kissed his way down her neck. A neck he knew so well. He had memorized it back in the day, replaying all their kisses so many times in his head.

  Her hand dragged down the side of his face and he grabbed it, sucking her finger into his mouth. Kissing her palm, he swept his lips down to her wrist and froze as his eyes blinked open. Her scar stared back at him. The reminder of exactly how bad he was for her. He lowered his lips to the inside of her wrist, pressing a kiss there. From above him, he heard her gasp.

  “No,” she cried, yanking her arm out of his grasp and pushing back, holding Steve at arm’s length.

  “Yvonne—”

  She slid off the counter, arms still outstretched to keep him away. “I said no.”

  He put both hands up, stepping back. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

  Yvonne hugged her arms into her stomach and let out a wry laugh. “Clean break, my ass.” She swallowed, looking down at her lap, and brushed a hand across the scar on her arm. “Clean breaks heal, Steve. If it was really a clean break, we both would have been over this—us—years ago. That excuse is bullshit and you know it.” She pushed off the sink, wiping a finger beneath her eyes.

  “Thirteen years is a long time. Things change.”

  Yvonne snorted. “Some things change. Other things… never do. I felt horrible about that night. I felt responsible and alone. I not only lost my boyfriend, I also lost your sister from that accident. I lost two of my best friends.”

  He had tried to convince Ronnie not to abandon Yvonne. But his sister was stubborn. And as soon as she got a whiff of that letter, she had wanted nothing more to do with Yvonne. “Yvonne—”

  “Don’t!” she snapped, holding her hand up to silence him. And damn, it worked. She pursed her lips together. “I really don’t want to hear anything else tonight.”

  He pushed too hard. Too soon. Hell, maybe it was the sort of line that should never be crossed, but Yvonne had this magnetic pull that even when they were avoiding each other, she was always in his thoughts. “Someday, I’d really like to give you that apology. And go into the details of the aftermath of our accident. I get that tonight’s not the right time for that.” Bracing himself beside her against the sink, he lifted his gaze to his own reflection, nearly wincing at the sight. Yvonne didn’t say another word as she shoved her way out of the restroom.

  But Steve didn’t see her go. His gaze was still stuck on his own reflection in the mirror. His own scar.

  ‡

  Chapter Twelve

  Yvonne was more than thrilled when the weekend finally rolled around. She’d already put in calls to her various foster families and all the dogs from the puppy mill seemed to be doing well. Even though it was the weekend, with a job like hers, she never truly had days off. But it meant that she could finally spend time with her friends who worked normal hours. And this weekend, her best friend from high school, Kyra, had offered to help in planning the 10K—in exchange for free brunch. Carrie had already put a website together so that people could purchase their spots early. They needed it to be soon enough to pay for the extra fees that came with taking on twenty more dogs, but also they needed to give people time to plan for it. She and Carrie settled on six weeks.

  Yvonne sat outside Lex’s bakery with an iced latte in one hand and Gatsby and Daisy’s leashes in the other. Yes, she had named the Chihuahua Daisy. If she was gonna go for literary references, she may as well go all in. It had been less than a week since Gatsby’s first chemo treatment, and with the prednisone on top of that, he was already stronger than ever. He ran down the sidewalk during his walks, tugging the leash like he did when he was a puppy. Even now, sitting beside Daisy, he lounged, ears relaxed and tail wagging in the warm summer sun.

  Lila Burgess walked down the sidewalk, stopping in time to squeal as she saw Yvonne’s dogs. “Oh my God, they’re so cute!” She bent, petting Gatsby, but moved quickly to Daisy.

  “Is she available for adoption?”

  Yvonne’s heart seized at the thought of having to give Daisy up so soon. She didn’t usually get so attached to her foster animals, but something about the Chihuahua’s honey brown eyes warmed her soul. “Um… no. N-not yet. She’s fighting a pretty bad infection.” Grabbing her phone from her purse, she pulled up the pictures of the other two foster dogs she took in from the puppy mill. A beagle and a puggle. “But these two are available now. They’re energetic, but sweet as can be.”

  “Is that a pug?” Lila cooed, taking the phone and bringing it closer to her face.

  “Pug-beagle mix. I can bring him by the diner today for you to meet.”

  Her head jerked up. “Could you? I get off of work around five. Maybe I could foster him for a few days? See if we’re a match.”

  Yvonne beamed. “Absolutely. I’ll meet you at your mom’s diner at five.”

  Lila skipped away and Yvonne sighed in relief, bending to pet Daisy.
<
br />   “So…” A deep baritone filled the space behind her and she stiffened at that soft, velvet tone. “This one’s not for adoption, huh?”

  She spun around to find Steve standing in the doorway to Lex’s bakery. She knew he would be here. On the weekends, almost every person in town either went to Elsa’s or Lex’s. She and Steve had seen each other in passing at the café several times since its opening a few months ago. “Her infection’s really bad still,” she said, not looking at him.

  “It’s not that bad,” he answered, and Yvonne looked up in time to catch his smirk. “As her veterinarian, I think I would know.”

  God, that grin. No matter how frustrated or angry or upset she was at Steve back when they dated, that smile was usually all it would take to thaw the ice. And now, forty-eight hours after they had kissed in the bathroom after dinner, his smile was doing its job, yet again. Her lips tingled with the memory of that kiss. She knew it had been a mistake and yet… it didn’t feel like a mistake.

  “Okay, fine,” Yvonne said, throwing her hands up. “You win. I love her. I want to keep her. She fits in perfectly with me and Gatsby, and I think he feels better having her around.”

  Steve dipped his head, requesting she make room for him. She scooted down the bench, wishing she wasn’t so aware of him as she sipped her latte.

  “You’re probably right,” he said. “Having a friend could definitely help him fight this battle.”

  “It sure as hell would have helped me heal.”

  As he cringed, she momentarily regretted saying as much. “You had lots of friends, Eve.”

  She was silent as she stared at him, blinking through spots, and damn it if her forehead wasn’t pinching with tension. There was so much she had to say, so much that she had held in for years. Things that hadn’t been “proper” or “good timing” or hell—he just simply hadn’t been around to hear it. But now he was. He was sitting in front of her, and maybe it would be her only chance for him to know all the things she’d been thinking for thirteen years.

  And still—as she opened her mouth to speak, the words strangled in her throat before they reached her tongue. “But I didn’t have you. And along with you, I lost Ronnie.”

  “It was for the best,” he said. “I did exactly what you—”

  Anger seethed through her chest at that. “I’ve spent my whole life having people tell me what’s best for my life, how to spend my money, how to dress my body. If you had to walk away from me because you were mad at me, or you blamed me for the accident, or even for your own self-preservation, that’s fine. But don’t pretend you’re a hero for taking away my choices in life.” Yvonne stood from the bench, unable to sit next to him any longer. Unable to make small talk and pretend that the way his knee brushed hers wasn’t affecting her.

  He stood right along with her, his eyes flashing a shiny blue that reflected the blazing sun. “I know I’m not a hero. That said, you were pissed. And I was young and afraid to see you. Or have you forgotten that you wrote—”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t roll out the red carpet for you, Steve. I was a little busy relearning how to walk again.”

  “We were both in a bad place back then. But the phone works both ways. If you wanted to talk it out or make up, you could have also made that happen. I was respecting boundaries that you had set up.”

  Yvonne shook her head and felt the angry tremble low in the pit of her stomach. The same warning her body always gave her before she was about to lose control, like the tremor that rocks the land before a large earthquake. “Boundaries? What the—don’t feed me that horseshit. I tried calling you after you were discharged. I tried giving you time and a little space. You didn’t want a little space. You wanted out.”

  He winced, his mouth twisting—regret, maybe? And he reached out to cup her jaw. “I wanted to protect you. To do what I thought you wanted.”

  She stepped back, away from his outstretched hand. “Except that I didn’t need your protection. I needed your friendship and your—” She broke the sentence off, her voice cracking. She was about to say love. Love. How dumb was she? As if she even knew what love was now, let alone when she was sixteen.

  “Finish that thought. Please tell me what’s in your head. Because mine is so messed up, I don’t know what to think anymore.”

  She let out a deep breath, feeling the air slowly leave her lungs. “Love. I needed your love.”

  “Need? Or needed?” he asked.

  “Needed. Past tense. You forfeited access to my heart thirteen years ago.” His eyes fell to the quick rise and fall of her breasts, and she became acutely aware of each breath she took. “You forfeited access to those, too,” she reminded him, unable to help the little smile that kicked up her lips.

  His gaze shot back to her face, that twinkle of humor lighting up his features once more, but his eyes remained serious. “Well, maybe now I want a mulligan.”

  She shook her head. “There are no mulligans here.”

  “A rematch, then.”

  Yvonne snorted a laugh, rolling her eyes. “This isn’t baseball, Steve.”

  “Good, I hate baseball. Always been more of a football fan, myself.” He took another step, closing what little space was left between them. “Come on. Give me a chance.”

  She relaxed at his light tone and casual swagger. But even though her brain put its defenses down, her body was still tense as could be.

  “What sort of ‘chance’? We’re in the middle of town on a crowded Sunday. What the hell do you expect me to do? Throw you down right here and straddle you across this bench?”

  “Challenge accepted.” His breath hitched, and a smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. “If that’s what you need to do to assert your independence, then I am happy to do my part.”

  “That wasn’t a challenge.”

  “Well, it certainly didn’t sound like a threat.”

  Yvonne took a step closer, her nipples pushing against the soft cotton of her tank top. One deep breath and she would feel her body brush against his. One tiny step away from being pressed flush against him. God, it had been a long time since she’d felt any human contact. Even her own parents didn’t hug her very often. It had been months since she’d felt a man’s arms wrapped around her body, since she’d smelled the spicy male scent surround her or the heat and weight of his body on top of her.

  She blinked open and slowly brought her gaze to his. “Making my own choices in life also means that I don’t let myself be manipulated anymore. When and if I decide I want you—it’ll be a decision we make together. Because unlike you… unlike my mother, and father, and Jonah, I will respect you enough to allow it to be a conversation, and not an overhaul.” At that, Yvonne stepped back, feeling the pain of distance between them.

  Okay, maybe Steve didn’t quite deserve all of that. Maybe he was just being cute and playful. But Yvonne wasn’t in a tickle-fight kind of mood. He’d hurt her. Yes, it was thirteen years and a lifetime ago, but it didn’t change the facts: that he ripped her heart out of her chest and didn’t bother sticking around to see if it had been repaired properly. It didn’t change the fact that he had walked away before she could also hold his hand as he healed. She may have had the more extensive internal injuries, but his were more visceral. And a constant reminder to him of how she had helped cause their accident. And maybe he could laugh that off with cute jokes, but she couldn’t. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

  From over Steve’s shoulder, Yvonne caught her friend Kyra’s eyes. Stunned, staring at them, nose to nose. She wasn’t sure if it looked like they were about to kiss or fight.

  “Um—sorry I’m late,” Kyra said, her eyes darting back and forth between her friend and Steve. “Everything okay here?”

  “Everything’s fine, Kyra. I was just leaving,” Steve said, backing away, his eyes remaining on Yvonne’s. “But if you feel like talking about this more, I’ll be going for my run around six-thirty tonight.”

  Despite that charming Tripp smile he flashed
her, Yvonne held strong, crossing her arms and forcing her mouth to stay in a straight line. “As if you could keep up,” she said, straight-faced.

  “Now that sounds like a challenge.” His grin widened. Damn him. With that, he turned and headed down the street toward his car.

  “What the hell was that about?” Kyra asked.

  “That was a man who can’t make up his damn mind.” Then again, Yvonne couldn’t make up her mind either, so maybe Cupid was onto something.

  Shaking away the uneasy feeling, she turned back to Kyra, smiling. As usual, her best friend was wearing a low-cut, tight top in a shade of fuchsia that would burn Yvonne’s retinas if she weren’t wearing sunglasses. A slim leopard print belt hugged her waist and cute little capris with leopard ballet flats. She looked like something right out of the Pink Ladies—and she rocked it. It wasn’t a look that Yvonne could pull off, but Kyra made it work, and she looked both badass and cute as hell.

  “He’s a Tripp,” she said, eyebrow arching. “What did you expect? I thought you moved on from him years ago?” Even as she asked the question, Kyra didn’t seem too confident in Yvonne’s assertion that she was over Steve. Not when she was a teenager, and not even as recently as a few months ago.

  “Guess I’m just a glutton for punishment.”

  *

  Steve hit the button on his phone, changing to the speaker setting. “Call Cam,” he said aloud. The phone rang a handful of times and as Steve was about to give up, his older brother answered.

  “I need to cancel lunch,” Steve blurted out.

  “What? Why?”

  Damn. He had no good reason other than he wanted to go home and sulk. Despite the playful banter, Yvonne had thrown a few forceful right hooks, completely knocking him off balance. “Not feeling well.”

  “Oh yeah? This doesn’t have anything to do with yours and Yvonne’s display outside of Lex’s, does it?”

  Fuck. “How did you—”

  “Kyra texted Lydia a few minutes ago.”