Cravings of the Heart (Trials of Fear Book 5)

by Nicky James

  I closed my eyes and concentrated on my breathing, shoving all the ugly, intense sensations into a box in my mind as I tried to calm down.

  Maybe it would be easier to go with the whole I’m anorexic bullshit everyone else seemed to believe. At least that was a viable crutch and one I could control. Those lies came easily enough with my parents and school friends. Why not Iggy too?

  A gentle knock sounded, and I stiffened.

  “Arden? Are you all right in there?”

  I pinched my eyes closed and blew out a breath before answering. “I’m okay. Just need a minute.”

  “Okay. No rush.” There was a pause, and he added, “Can I make you another tea? Maybe it will help settle your stomach.”

  “Sure,” I croaked as I shifted off the ground, holding the counter’s edge until I knew I was stable.

  When I was sure he’d gone back down the hall, I ran the cold water and splashed it over my face. My cheeks were hot, and the inner jitteriness hadn’t fully gone away. I spent another few minutes staring at myself in the mirror and hating everything I saw.

  The lies. The concave angles in my sunken cheeks. The dark bruises under my eyes. My thin, wispy hair.

  When I couldn’t face my hideous reflection any longer, I left the washroom, intent on facing my date instead. I didn’t know what I was going to say, but I couldn’t hide in the bathroom all night.

  I wasn’t sure how long I’d been gone, but Iggy had cleaned up dinner. The dining room table was empty, and a steaming mug of tea awaited me on his coffee table. Iggy sat on the couch, a worried frown creasing his forehead.

  He caught me examining the empty dining room table and said, “I put it away. If your stomach is unsettled, I didn’t want to make it worse.”

  Shame and defeat burrowed deep within, and I nodded before joining him on the couch. I sipped my tea for many long minutes, soaking up the warmth and searching for an explanation.

  “Phoenix said you were kinda funny with food. I didn’t know what to make. I changed my mind a hundred times. I’m sorry if I messed up.”

  Figured my brother spoke up against me. “Funny about food” was an interesting way of putting it. What else had he said?

  Not meeting Iggy’s gaze, I spoke while staring into my mug. “I’m sure it was fabulous. It’s just, I’m a bit of a control freak when it comes to what I’ll eat and what I won’t.”

  Not a lie, but an empty answer that lacked a real reason. Also, it was deceptive because it didn’t come close to explaining the depth of the problem.

  “Is there anything I can make that we can enjoy together? I don’t want you to go without dinner.”

  Oh, Iggy, if only it were that simple.

  “The tea’s good. You already went out of your way once. I’d feel bad making you start again.”

  Iggy didn’t push which made me wonder just how much Phoenix had said. Not wanting to continue down this road of conversation, I fished for something else to talk about.

  When Iggy suggested a movie, I jumped all over the idea. We settled together on the couch as Iggy queued up Ace Ventura. It was a good ice breaker after the intense moments surrounding our non-dinner.

  I settled one of Iggy’s throw pillows on my lap, and each time Jim Carrey did something outrageous, I buried my face and laughed. Iggy chuckled beside me, and I sensed him watching me more times than not.

  Halfway through the flick, he shifted closer, tossed the throw pillow out of reach, and encouraged me to cuddle up against his chest while he wrapped an arm around me. It was comforting being surrounded in his warmth. He smelled of aftershave and body wash, and I inhaled, buzzing with the invigorating sensations. Since I could no longer hide a laugh into a pillow, I used Iggy’s shoulder instead.

  As the movie neared the end and I nearly bust a gut at a particularly funny part, Iggy hitched my small frame off the couch and swung me onto his lap while my face was hidden in the crook of his neck. He lifted my head, and I scrambled to neutralize my features.

  “God, I wish you wouldn’t hide,” he said, the movie immediately forgotten. “I’d give anything to see that smile. You’re so beautiful. Like an angel. Small. Delicate. Perfect.”

  All things I strived not to be, but somehow, hearing them come from Iggy’s mouth was different.

  I didn’t know what to say and opened my mouth a few times to no avail. Turned out, I didn’t have to say anything. Iggy pulled my face closer and angled his head, joining our mouths.

  Kissing was good. Kissing soothed my damaged soul and made everything feel less ugly and tainted.

  This was better than any meal and was the part of the night I’d been hoping and praying for. I craved Iggy’s touches and kisses.

  His lips were warm, supple, and soft, tentative at first as though ensuring I was on board. I pressed against him, stealing a taste with a flick of my tongue on his lip and melting against the inviting flavor of his mouth. Iggy didn’t demand but possessed a gentle sort of control that made my stomach flip in a good way.

  We shared a few lingering minutes of that soft connection before his tongue delved deeper, pressing against the seam of my mouth, asking silent permission. I accepted, and we tested that barrier as well.

  His hands moved to my waist, and I brought mine to his head, smoothing them along his shaved hair, loving the velvety feel of the shorn cut under my fingers. Soft and inviting.

  It was only another minute before his firm grip on my waist shifted, and he slid his hands under my sweater, seeking skin. I spat curses inside my head, tensing and wondering what he would think of my disgustingly thin body.

  The temperature contrast of his large warm hands and my cold, brittle body made me shiver. His hands didn’t travel far, they lingered just above my hips, his thumbs caressing the skin on either side of my navel. It sent waves of shivers down my spine and spiked nerves in my mind.

  Iggy didn’t react negatively. His mouth moved on mine, our tongues licking together. Soft groans swallowed on both sides. Eventually, I relaxed and forgot to worry, savoring the kiss.

  This was Iggy Rojas. I didn’t want to miss a second of being with him because I was too worried about how I looked or what he’d think.

  Our kiss ended naturally with both of us a little breathless. He didn’t remove his hands and instead studied my face with half-lidded eyes that glimmered with lust as he explored further up my shirt. I held my breath as his wandering fingers skipped over each prominent rib, circled my torso and coasted down my spine touching every nodule my thin frame didn’t hide.

  It was a faint, brushing touch, but as his actions slowed the closer he got to the base of my spine, a tiny dip appeared between his brows. The tell-tale hint of worry.

  I squirmed and tugged his hands out of my shirt, my cheeks flaming as I attempted to shift off his lap. He caught my hips and held me in place.

  “Don’t,” I said before he could speak.

  “I can’t touch you?”

  “I see that look on your face. My body is disgusting, and I know it. You’re tracing my bones and wondering how you can shove food into my face just like everyone else. You think I don’t see it? You think I don’t know?”

  “You’re not disgusting.”

  “But I am way too fucking skinny. It’s probably like touching a corpse. Cuz that’s attractive.”

  “Arden.” He caught my face between his hands again and pecked a kiss on my mouth to stop the flow of hatred. “Don’t tell me what I’m thinking. You’re gorgeous, and I want to touch you.”

  I flipped my gaze between his eyes and tried to get a read on him. No one could possibly think skin and knobby bone was appealing. He’d felt it. What kind of reaction would he have if he saw it?

  He kissed me again, and I let the feel of his mouth and the soft exploration of his tongue take me away from the worry. He didn’t reach under my shirt again, and our little make-out session remained light.

  I couldn’t deny my disappointment when the movie ended and our night came
to a close as well. I’d given us enough awkward barriers to deal with on a first date, I didn’t expect to be invited to share more.

  As I left and Iggy used the notorious “I’ll call you” line, I knew the whole idea of making my childhood dreams come true was nothing more than wishful thinking. He pecked my cheek and sent me on my way with a gentle smile.

  All the butterflies that had followed me into his house earlier withered and died.

  Chapter Nine

  Iggy

  I didn’t call.

  For three weeks I enforced radio silence, ignoring Arden’s texts while stewing over the lingering, unsettled feelings of our date. Three weeks with a tickling impression like I was missing something important but couldn’t place my finger on it.

  Three weeks mourning the loss of Arden and the possibilities that had seemed just within reach.

  I’d gone over every aspect of our date and couldn’t shake the restless urge to question everything.

  Phoenix’s warnings had proven true. However, I didn’t fully agree with his analysis. Not once did I get the sense that Arden was trying to manipulate me or the outcome of our date. In fact, it was his adamant refusal to allow my hands freedom under his clothes that had halted the direction of those activities.

  The meal was another issue on its own.

  I could honestly say, I didn’t believe Arden had lied to me. Nor had he told me the truth. Or not all of it.

  I sprayed down the stretcher and gave it a wipe while Mickey spoke with the on-call doctor about our recent patient. The mindless task of clean-up was sufficient enough to dull the ever-present roar of noise eating at my brain and the lingering hollow ache in my chest.

  Tangled in the mix were the enticing memories of that kiss. Of that mouth. Those lips. They did a good job of canceling out the other stuff I couldn’t figure out.

  “We ready to split?” Mickey asked, nudging my shoulder as he hiked a bag of gear off the ground.

  “Yeah. Just need to wipe down the inside of the rig.”

  I followed him through the bustling emergency room and out the ambulatory doors to our idling vehicle. While I made a quick once over in the back, secured the stretcher, and put things away, Mickey touched base with dispatch to let them know we’d be on the road again in under five.

  Three weeks.

  Every day blended together. I went to work, bustled through ten hours of emergency calls, went home, cooked, visited Ma, ran chores for her around town, took her to appointments, hit the gym on occasion, and fell into bed exhausted, only to wake up and start all over again. Each morning started with a mind-numbing run while I tried to work through my feelings for Arden.

  Three weeks, and I couldn’t let him go. Phoenix’s words clashed with the real puzzle which mixed with that unforgettable mouth. No matter how right Phoenix was, he was wrong.

  But I couldn’t see the whole picture.

  “You’ve been a space cadet for weeks,” Mickey said as he pulled our rig into the garage at the end of our shift. “Something going on?”

  I was an open book, and Mickey was one of my good friends. It wasn’t like me to lie or hide the truth. The only reason I’d stayed quiet was because I was still sorting it all out.

  He killed the engine and shifted in the seat to face me, ignoring the crew waiting to take over. “Seriously. Wanna talk about it?”

  I considered then threw caution to the wind. “Well, there is this guy I like. The feelings are mutual, and we had a date a few weeks back. The thing is, before the date, I was warned off him. A friend told me all kinds of stuff that he thought I should know. Negative stuff. He was worried about me and said he didn’t want me to get hurt. I told him I’d make my own decision and carried on with the date as planned.

  “But the date was weird. There were… things that pinged my radar and I could kinda see what my friend was talking about, but at the same time, I think his assessment was all wrong. So basically, I haven’t called this guy back, even though I think I really like him. I can’t sort out what to do.”

  “I’m not sure I’m following.”

  I blew out a breath and rubbed a hand over my buzzed hair. “Sorry, I’m not trying to sound cryptic. I don’t want to break confidence.”

  “I get it. Let me see if I understand. So, this guy who warned you off, was he right?”

  I considered. “I think from his perspective, I can see why he believes what he does.”

  “But you saw something more?”

  “Yeah. The guy called my date a liar. But… not revealing the full truth doesn’t make a person a liar. It makes them wary or cautious. My date didn’t lie to me, he just didn’t tell me the whole truth. Does that make sense?”

  “Yeah. So, maybe tell this friend of yours to mind his own business. You know how when you start a new job and everyone feels the need to gossip about co-workers, tell you all their faults and they don’t let you discover the person on your own? You walk in with a skewed perception?”

  I chuckled. “Yeah.”

  “Same deal here. Maybe stop listening to this friend and make your own judgment. Your gut is trying to tell you something. In my experience, it’s always best to listen to yourself.”

  “I get it.”

  “Should we get outta here?”

  “Please.”

  Mickey and I went our separate ways. Before I drove home, I connected a call to my mother.

  “Hello?” she talk-yelled into the phone.

  “Hey, Ma. It’s Iggy. Can you hear me?”

  “I hear you.”

  I held the phone away from my ear a few inches and smiled. The poor woman didn’t seem to understand that she was the one who was deaf, not me.

  “I’m just leaving work, and I’m going to the grocery store. Do you need anything? I can drop it off on my way home.”

  There was a long enough pause I almost assumed she didn’t hear me. Before I could repeat myself, she said, “Milk. I had to drink my coffee black today.”

  “Milk,” I repeated. “Is that all?”

  “No, no that’s all.”

  “Okay. I’ll swing by in a half an hour or so.”

  We said goodbye, and I headed to the store.

  I didn’t know what I wanted to make for dinner and wandered aimlessly up and down the aisles. In the produce section, I puzzled over the apples, bagging a few that looked decent. While examining the quality of the oranges, I poked at that niggling sensation in the back of my mind. The one I’d been prodding at for three weeks. Again, I was convinced I was missing something about Arden. Something that stood out but didn’t.

  Something he’d said.

  Shaking it off, I added a few oranges to my cart and kept wandering. Mickey was right. I was letting Phoenix’s judgment taint my view of Arden. Even if he was half right about some things, he wasn’t all right. Not once had Arden given me a reason to believe he was playing me. There was awkwardness all over the place—with dinner, the way he’d squirmed when I’d touched him, even at the obvious age difference that came up more than once as we’d talked—but there was good too.

  Maybe I was being overly cautious and guarding my heart for once. It was about time. There were probably only so many times a person could be beaten down before they learned to approach relationships carefully.

  Collin had really done a number on me.

  Deciding to make chorizo and eggs for dinner, I collected the ingredients and found milk for Ma before paying and heading out. After delivering the milk, getting sucked into visiting for an hour, and heading home, I was nearly too tired to cook and eat.

  I stood under a long hot shower and let my muscles relax while trying to clear my mind.

  As I fumbled through food prep, I pulled out my phone and stared at Arden’s contact information for many minutes while I considered texting. I wanted to see him again, but had questions, too. Bombarding him with all Phoenix had shared would probably make him run or feel interrogated. Likely, it would piss him off knowing Phoenix h
ad been so forthcoming.

  Deciding against a text, unsure what to say, I stuffed my phone back into my pocket and resumed cooking.

  After eating, I didn’t feel any less unsettled. I opened my phone and formulated a few texts to Arden before deleting them all. It’d been three weeks. He’d probably given up on hearing from me. Texting wasn’t going to help. I needed to see him. Face to face.

  I checked the time. It was just after eight on a Thursday night. I knew virtually nothing about Arden’s schedule, but I did remember him saying he’d been working a lot lately due to the influx of weddings during the summer. Nightly, if memory served.

  I did a quick search on my phone for Ever After’s store hours. They closed at nine. If Arden was working, maybe I could catch him when he finished. Maybe we could go for coffee—or tea—and chat. I could put my Phoenix-induced reservations aside and listen to my gut.

  I cleaned up my dinner dishes and headed back out at just after eight thirty. If he wasn’t working, I’d send him a text and ask if we could meet up. Hopefully, he could forgive my silence.

  Being the last week of June, the sun hadn’t quite set as I pulled into the employee parking lot behind the store. There were a few cars—one of them familiar.

  My chest loosened, knowing he was here and I wouldn’t need to scramble to figure out how to see him again.

  I parked beside his vehicle and killed the engine. Like he’d done with me on two separate occasions, I got out, and perched myself on the hood of his car, eyes trained on the back door to the shop, and waited.

  It was shortly after nine when he emerged from the steel door. Backpack over one shoulder, head ducked and eyes on his phone, he walked toward me without looking up. Halfway to his car, he stuffed his phone away and flicked his head to move his bangs from his face. That was when he noticed me and ground to a halt.

  The corner of his mouth on the right quirked into an almost smile before he stopped it and canted his head. “Are you stalking me at my job?”

  I returned his almost smile. He wore a loose fitting pair of black slacks and a button-up under a knitted vest which seemed like overkill in the early summer heat. His feathery blond hair fell into his eyes again, and he blew the wayward strand off his face.