My Favorite Mistake

by Chelsea M. Cameron

  “I don’t know,” I said, washing a pepper in the sink. We were standing so close I bumped into him a few times. “Do you want to?”

  “How about we talk about the fact that you say you don’t like me, but you kiss me and then you sleep with me?”

  “First of all,” I said, wiping the pepper off vigorously with a paper towel and moving on to a second, “you were going to kiss me. I just made it happen faster. And second, you asked me to sleep with you. I was worried if you had another nightmare you were going to fall out of bed. I was looking out for your safety.” I moved to the cutting board and started chopping.

  He snorted as he stirred the meat and non-meat.

  “Yeah, that was why I woke up with your legs and arms and body wrapped around mine like an octopus.”

  “You didn’t seem to mind.”

  He didn’t answer for a second so I looked up.

  “I didn’t,” he said quietly.

  “Me neither.” We both thought about that for a second.

  “So what now?” he said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “What do we do now? We can’t just be roommates.”

  “You said you didn’t like me.”

  “I don’t like you. I don’t like how your hair smells, and how I can’t stop thinking about waking up and seeing your face. I hate how my bed felt empty when you left. I don’t like how good you were with my family, especially Harper, and how I wanted to see you with them again, but not just as a guest. As a member. You’re right. I don’t like you at all.”

  “When did you change your mind?”

  “My mind never changed. I’ve wanted you since the moment you opened the door and had that stunned look on your face. It just took me a while to admit it. Why deny it now? It is what it is and it’s not going to change.”

  “Oh.”

  “This doesn’t mean I’m going to be nice. I’m still going to be an ass. I’ll just be an ass who apologizes and brings you flowers to say he’s been a dick.”

  “Chocolate,” I said.

  “What?”

  “I’d rather have chocolate when you apologize.”

  “Chocolate it is.” He smiled. “So does that mean what I think it means?”

  “No. It just means that you get to bring me chocolate when you’ve been an ass. I’m going to weigh three hundred pounds.” I focused my attention back on the peppers. I couldn’t think about Hunter’s declaration of… whatever it was.

  Footsteps didn’t make me look up.

  “Taylor, look at me. Please.” Damn. If only he didn’t say please.

  “I can’t promise not to make you mad. I can’t promise that I won’t hurt you. All I can promise is that I want you in my life, and I’ll do anything to keep you there.”

  “What about the bet?”

  “It still stands. A bet is a bet. The stakes are just a little bit higher, that’s all.”

  “So if I asked you to leave, would you?”

  “No. This is my apartment just as much as it is yours. I’ll only leave under three conditions. The ball is in your court. I stick to my word. And I don’t want to leave. Leaving means I don’t get to see you all the time, and I don’t want that.”

  I swallowed and tried to sort my scattered mind. Yes, I did like waking up with Hunter. Much, much more than I should. On the other hand, I couldn’t get closer to him. That would only lead to things I couldn’t deal with. I wasn’t a carefree girl who could just jump into a relationship. I had too much baggage. I couldn’t carry it myself, let alone foist it off on someone else.

  I was fucked up. Much more so than he could imagine. While it was true Hunter had his own secret, it didn’t seem to burden him like mine did. He wore it like one of his tattoos, a part of him, but not a dominant part. Megan was right; that one night did define me. It had since I was twelve. It wasn’t going to change overnight.

  If he got close, he was going to get burned. Or worse, he wouldn’t like what he found. I couldn’t let that happen.

  “I wish you’d never moved in,” I said, stepping back and looking at the peppers. It took all my effort not to throw myself on him, to kiss him, to tell him that I wanted him. Because to say that I didn’t was the biggest lie I’d ever tell myself.

  I wanted Hunter Zaccadelli more than I’d ever wanted anything.

  My hands were shaking so bad that the knife slipped.

  “Shit!”

  “Here, run it under the water.” Hunter dragged me to the sink, putting my bleeding finger under the water. The cut wasn’t bad, so I ripped my hand away as quick as I could.

  “Thanks, I think I can manage. I’ve somehow survived nearly twenty years of life without your help, thank you very much.”

  “If that’s the way you want it.”

  “Yes.”

  No, no, no.

  He went back to the taco meat and non-meat, and I went back to the veggies. We didn’t speak again until Darah and Renee returned with sombreros and margarita mix and Mase and Dev and Sean and a few others from around the dorm.

  I was relieved Hunter and I had a buffer of people to keep us apart. I didn’t know what I was going to do tonight. In our dark, quiet room with just the two of us, I was vulnerable. I was much more likely to change my mind under the influence of large pieces of Hunter’s exposed skin and the ease of sliding under the covers and sleeping with him again.

  It would have been so easy.

  Hunter went to bed early, and by the time I was ready myself, he had his back turned to me and the light off. He didn’t even say goodnight.

  Eighteen

  He avoided me the next day, even at work. We had three carts of documents and things to reshelf on the closed stacks, which meant we were going to be alone up there for hours. Luckily, I brought the radio and turned it on as soon as we wheeled the carts, Dolly and Daisy and Dulcie, off the elevators. One of the other student workers had named all the carts and put little cow faces on them. I understood the obsession with naming inanimate objects. Exhibit A: Sassy, my car.

  He took Dolly, which had the beginning of the alphabet, so I grabbed Dulcie, which was at the end. We’d have to work together when we got to Daisy, but maybe we wouldn’t get to it today, and then one of the other student workers would deal with it.

  I finished my first cart faster than I would have liked. There were a lot of big books on it that were right in a row call number wise, so I sat there with the empty cart. I’d heard Hunter quietly working, but I didn’t know if he was finished. God, what a baby. Suck it up.

  I reached the cart just as Hunter did. Of course.

  “Come on,” I said, dragging the cart to the right aisle. I started grabbing things and shoving them on the shelf. They were in relatively the right place. A hand reached out to stop me.

  “I know you said you didn’t want this, but here’s the thing. I don’t believe you.” He held my wrist gently, but I couldn’t seem to move. He put his hand on my waist and slowly turned me around, as if we were dancing. We faced each other, and I couldn’t escape his intense gaze. His eyes were locked on mine and they weren’t going to let go. I was trapped.

  “Look at me and tell me you don’t want me to kiss you. Tell me you don’t like it when I do this,” he said, running his hand down my arm. “Tell me you don’t like it when I touch your hair…” He did so, brushing it behind my ear. “Tell me you don’t like it when I touch your face.” He brushed his hands on both of my cheeks, moving up to my forehead and then back down. He rubbed both thumbs over my lips.

  “Tell me you don’t like it when I do this.” He leaned his head closer, stopping just short of my lips. “Tell me to stop and I will. You’re in charge, Missy.”

  Oh, but I wasn’t. I’d never been so out of charge in my life. I hated being so out of control with him. This was only the second time it had happened, the first being Saturday night and the recliner incident. I closed my eyes and prayed to whoever would listen to give me some control so I could say no.
/>   I wasn’t some horny teen girl with raging hormones. I was Taylor Caldwell, Ice Queen. That was what they had called me in high school. The boys had avoided me for fear of getting their balls frozen off. Or so they had said. I didn’t mind. It made things easier. Any boys who had wanted to try and break through my exterior had been quickly squashed like bugs.

  Hunter was different. He’d seen through my exterior, seen through the wall of tangled thorns that guarded me. And here he was, asking me if I wanted to let him try to break through.

  The answer was yes.

  And no.

  I was going to hell.

  I leaned forward until our lips met. This time he waited for me. I pushed closer, and he responded, jamming me up against the shelf and devouring me once again. Were his kisses ever gentle? I hoped not.

  My hands were trapped above my head so I couldn’t touch him, but he was pressed against me, so I could feel him on every inch of my body, even through our clothes. I let my worries about control fade away, like letting go of a balloon string and watching it float away. Hunter demanded my attention.

  I made a little moaning noise and he laughed, slowing our kisses so they were sweeter. Also, I could breathe better. Not that breathing mattered a whole lot at the moment. It was secondary.

  I pulled my head back, feeling dizzy.

  “I don’t like you,” I whispered, giving him one last soft peck.

  “Sure,” Hunter said, reaching around me. I thought he was going to assault me, but he was just reaching for a book. “You just keep telling yourself that.” He shelved the book above my head, looking down at me and smiling slowly.

  “Get back to work, Miss Caldwell.”

  I grabbed the nearest book and wacked him with it.

  “Dark. I like dark chocolate.”

  *****

  That night a bar of expensive dark chocolate found its way onto my pillow. Wonder how that got there. I picked it up and found something else. A black velvet box. What. The. Fuck.

  With trembling hands, I picked it up, my brain telling me it must have fallen there by mistake. Maybe Renee had left it in my room, or thought it was mine, or maybe it was a gift from Mase to Darah and he decided to hide it in a place where she wouldn’t find it or…

  Just open the damn box.

  Slowly, with a little creak, the box opened. Fuckity, fuck, fuck, FUCK.

  There was a ring inside. For like, fingers and such. It was gorgeous, with a clear blue stone in the middle, surrounded by what I thought might be diamonds (and I prayed were cubic zirconium) and then a double row of greenish stones of alternating sizes, all wrapped with silver. It made me think of a peacock feather.

  “It’s not what you think,” Hunter said, scaring the bejeezus and daylights out of me all at once. I dropped the box.

  “Must reassemble heart,” I said, trying to remember how to breathe.

  “Wow, I didn’t know it would get quite that reaction.” He picked it up and looked at it before holding it out to me.

  “What? How? Why?” I couldn’t form coherent words.

  “It’s a ring. It’s for your finger. I bought it, and I thought you would like it. And it’s to say sorry for all the douche-y things I’ve ever done. Figured I’d cover my bases.”

  “Ring?”

  “Yes. Ring. Hunter,” he said, pointing to his chest. “Missy,” he said, pointing to me.

  I stared down at the sparkly thing. It was so pretty. It was the prettiest thing I’d ever seen in my life. Like someone had designed a ring just for me.

  “It’s not what you think it is. It’s an apology ring. It’s an I-saw-it-and-thought-of-you ring. It’s not a commitment ring. Promise rings are lame, and you know I’m not proposing. I’m not getting married, ever. So. This is a ring. Just a ring for your pretty finger. I had it sized.”

  “When?”

  “I measured your finger while you were sleeping one night.”

  “What?!”

  He laughed at my still-stunned face.

  “Kidding! Damn, you’re weird when you’re surprised by jewelry. I’ll have to do it more often. I stole one of the ones off your dresser I knew you wore a lot.”

  “You had this made for me?”

  “Kind of. I saw the ring with the blue and the diamonds, and I just thought it could add a little more to make it something you’d love. Do you like it?”

  My ears cringed at the word diamond. Maybe I’d heard him wrong. Diamonds were expensive.

  “I don’t like it. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

  “I could say the same about you.” I looked up to his face to find him smiling at me.

  “Would you put it on? For me?”

  He plucked the ring out of the box and held it out to me. I slid it on my right ring finger. Too much symbolism with the left, at least in the United States. It fit as if it had been made for me. It was so shiny I could barely look away from it.

  “How does it fit?” Hunter said, taking my hand and turning so the ring glimmered.

  “Perfect.” I still didn’t comprehend the fact that Hunter had bought me a ring with diamonds and God -knew what else in it, as if it was nothing.

  “How much?” I said.

  “Price doesn’t matter.”

  “I thought you didn’t accept money from your family.”

  “I didn’t. I bought it myself.”

  “With what money?” It had to be crazy expensive. He wouldn’t meet my eyes when I looked up.

  “Don’t worry about it. Money is meaningless.”

  “No, it’s not. Tell me how much it was.”

  “If I do, you’re going to freak out like you did about the house, and then I’ll be forced to kiss you again. Do you want me to kiss you again?”

  “It’s not my fault you keep trying to kiss me. How much did the ring cost?”

  He grabbed my hands and tried to plant one on me, but I ducked away.

  “Are you asking for me to kick your nuts again? Because I totally will.”

  “Why can’t you react like a normal girl? Anyone else would be a puddle of goo at my feet.”

  “You didn’t give this ring to another girl, you gave it to me. So deal with it.”

  “Do you want me to take it back? I’m sure they can cut it apart and use the stones for another ring.”

  “No!” It would be a crime to destroy such a lovely thing. Not that I was much for jewelry but this was something different. This wasn’t a ring. This was a work of art.

  “Okay then. So I guess you like it.”

  “I love it.”

  “I have reservations about you wearing a peacock feather on your finger, but that’s just a representation of one, so I guess it’s okay. Just… be careful.”

  “Peacocks aren’t bad luck for me,” I said. He had no idea what they meant to me. Or maybe he did. “How much, Hunter?”

  “It’s not important, Miss. You’re more important than money. Bottom line.” I wanted to ask him again if he was bipolar. How could he say things like that and then make a comment about my ass the next? He was a conundrum.

  “So the only thing you have left to do is thank me. I know a really special way you could thank me, but it’s really up to you.” And there he was again.

  “Okay,” I said, having an idea.

  I crooked my finger for him to come closer. I tipped my head up like I was going to give him a steamy kiss. I bit my lip and his face went blank for a second. Ha.

  I went for his mouth slowly, but moved at the last second, catching him on the cheek for a lightning- fast peck.

  “Thanks,” I said brightly before stepping away from him. I needed some space so I could breathe.

  “Tease. You’re a tease, Missy girl.”

  “You know you love me.”

  He shook his head.

  “Nope, still don’t like you,” he said with a sigh.

  “Liar,” I countered.

  “Hypocrite.” He stepped closer to me.

  “
Douche.”

  He smiled slowly. “Gorgeous.”

  “Ass.”

  “Sexy.” He was coming for me, and I couldn’t stop him. Somehow I’d have to.

  “Stop.”

  “Go.”

  “Red light.”

  “Green light.”

  “No.”

  “Yes,” he whispered, reaching out to hold my shoulders. “Just say yes. Say you’ll be with me.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “I can’t, Hunter. Don’t ask me again.”

  “Aw, Missy. Why do you do this to me?”

  “I’m sorry.” My voice broke and I was afraid I was going to cry. No, I was not going to cry. I promised myself no boy, no man, would ever make me cry again. And that was why.

  “I’m sorry,” I said before I ran out of the room.

  “What’s wrong?” Renee said from the couch where she was ensconced with her nursing books.

  “Nothing. I’m going for a walk.”

  “But it’s raining.”

  “So? I have an umbrella.” I grabbed it from where I’d hung it by the door.

  “Don’t open it inside,” Hunter said from the hallway. “It’s bad luck.”

  I didn’t respond as I got out of there as quickly as I could.

  I walked around campus for two hours, just thinking and looking at the ring. It was still on my finger. He’d said it was just a ring, an apology ring, but it was so much more than that. Rings were symbolic. Rings were in circles. Circles never ended, which was why they were symbols of eternity. No beginning and no end.

  God, it was so beautiful. How had he known? Granted, I did have a crap ton of peacock stuff, but the way he’d had it put together was just perfection. He’d been planning this for a while. How long? Yet another question I’d thought to ask him while out on my stroll. Campus was deserted, seeing as how it was too late for most classes and it was raining.

  Rain didn’t bother me. Hunter did. My feelings for Hunter bothered me the most.

  I didn’t end up crying, but I came pretty damn close. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d cried. I’d never been much of a crier, and after everything that had happened, it was like someone had shut off the valve in my tear ducts.