Fragile Bonds (18 page)

“That didn’
t take long.” It figures that Tyler would be walking out of the building between mine and Xavier’s just in time to get the completely wrong impression. I consider setting him straight, telling him that I was only there for Jacob, but he knows me well enough to know that I’m on a slippery slope right now. He would see the truth as fallacy, assuming I’m trying to dodge the inevitable lecture on why being this close to Xavier is a bad idea for me. I suppose I am, to some extent, because Tyler only knows how Xavier and I were together when we were both younger and didn’t have the same responsibilities we do now. Before Xavier became a widower with a young son. Before I was possessed the confidence to go after what’s important in my life.

“Good morning, Tyler,” I say sweetly, pretending I’m not standing in plain view of the entire complex wearing little more than underwear.

He comes to stand slightly behind me, as if his wiry frame could shield anyone from catching a glimpse of the bottom of my ass cheeks hanging out the bottom of the nearly transparent boxers. “Do I even want to know?” he finally asks.

“If you want to know anything, you’re going to have to follow me to my place,” I inform him, picking up Brody so I can get to my ap
artment as quickly as possible. There’s no need to look back to see if Tyler is following me. We may have drifted apart a bit since college, but he’s still a hound for juicy gossip. Who knows, maybe this whole screwed up situation with Xavier will bring us closer. Lord knows I could use that seeing as I have no intention on mending fences with Stacey and I’ve been far too devoted to work to think about having a social life.

Tyler follows me into my bedroom, flopping on the bed while I dig out clothes. “I still think this is a bad idea. That man is your biggest weakness and you don’t need his controlling bullshit in your life again.” I roll my eyes at Tyler’s unsolicited opinion. I’m still figuring out how to justify what is or isn’t going on when Tyler continues with his rant. “Not to mention the fact that his wife
just
died. I mean, we’re talking there probably isn’t even grass on her gravesite yet. Do you really think it’s a good idea to pick up those two tons of baggage?”

“It’s not like that, Tyler,” I whine. I hate the fact that he has me thinking about this again. As much as I shouldn’t think
about what happened in the kitchen this morning or the tender kiss in the hall, that’s much more pleasant than listing off the multitude of reasons Xavier and I are a bad idea. I leave the bathroom door open as I begin stripping for my shower. It doesn’t matter that we aren’t exactly besties anymore, if I shut the door, he’ll just walk in and perch himself on the toilet like he used to. And I don’t care if he sees me naked. He’s gay and I can’t even count the number of times he’s hung around while I got ready to go somewhere. The only difference now is that he’s supposed to be working, not telling me how he thinks I should live my life.

“Then I’d love for you to explain what it
is
like,” he hollers loud enough that I can hear him over the water. “Because the way I see it, he’s the one that got away in your mind. He’s the first man you ever loved and he fucked you up hard. And now that he’s in this vulnerable place, you’re ready to swoop in and be his savior.”

“Not like that,” I repeat, pulling the shower curtain closed. I stand there for a moment, losing myself under the hot stream of water beating on my skin. “I know you won’t believe me, but last night was about Jacob. He had a bad dream and his teddy bear was still in my car. Then, he asked me to lay down with him until he went to sleep. Last night was about me being there for a
four-year old boy who lost his mother. End of story.”

“And you don’t see the problem with that?” Tyler’s voice grows louder and I know he’s on the other side of this thin plastic curtain.
“You’re in a no-win situation with him. Not only are you an idiot when it comes to him, but now you’re falling for his kid, too. I’m telling you, this is very, very bad.”

I choose to pretend that I don’t hear him rambling on and on. The way he dwells on topics such as this is one of Tyler’s less endearing qualities. Instead, I take my time massaging shampoo into my scalp, wishing it were Xavier’s
strong fingers kneading my head. As I scrub my body with a mesh loofah, I picture Xavier’s hands sliding over my skin, taunting me as he washes my upper thighs, refusing to give me the release my body is begging for.

I’m beyond screwed.

“Are you even listening to me?” Tyler huffs, pulling me out of the blissful place my imagination was taking me.

“Sorry, I didn’t sleep well last night.” It’s the only excuse I can come up with because I’m surely not going to tell Tyler that I was about two seconds away from diddling my digits a few feet away from him.

“You’re as impossible as ever, Mel. I said I need to get back to work. Everything I said before that can be rehashed over margaritas next Tuesday. No excuses.” He does his best to sound demanding, but falls short as always. Tyler is many things, but domineering will never reach that list.

Braydon and I work together to get the kitchen cleaned up from breakfast and get Jacob ready to go for the day before Melanie gets back. If it’s not done before she gets here, I know she’ll take it upon herself to do all the work and I don’t want that from her. She’s not my maid, she’s not the nanny and it’s time she realize that. Luckily, Braydon didn’t say a word when I told him to give Jacob a bath rather than try to wipe off the sticky goop coating at least half of my son’s body.

“I’m ready, Daddy!” Jacob runs out of his bedroom wearing his Red Hot Chili Peppers t-shirt with khaki shorts and high tops. He’s going through another growth spurt and won’t be able to wear the retro band t-shirts Alyssa was always buying for much longer. As much as I complained the first time my son came out wearing a black shirt that proclaimed him a “future KISS roadie” I’m going to miss these moments when they’re gone. Soon, he won’t have any clothes left that his mom fought me over. I was always worried about him fitting in with the rest of his class, while Alyssa insisted on him being an individual. That led to more than one shipment of some of the craziest outfits imaginable.
“Daddy, are you listening to me?”

Looking down, I
see Jacob scowling at me with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. I wink at him and his frown immediately turns into his amazing smile, the one that mirrors his mother’s. I wonder if a time will come when I’m not slapped in the face with reminders of her. I’m not sure which scares me more, the thought of that day arriving or living with her ghost for the rest of my life.

“I’m sorry, bud.” I pick him up, hugging him tightly to my chest. “What were you saying?”

“I said,” Jacob sighs dramatically, “can we take Miss Melanie out to dinner tonight? Unca Braydon said she likes chicken wings and baseball, just like we do!” Leaning against the far wall is my brother, obviously pleased with himself for getting a four-year old to do his dirty work. “Can we go watch the game and eat chicken?”

“Let me talk to your uncle for a minute, okay?” I put Jacob on the floor and watch as he runs
away. He disappears into his bedroom and I hear him happily playing with his dinosaurs. “What in the hell was
that
?”

Braydon shrugs unapologetically. “You need to eat, she needs to eat and you don’t cook. Figured it was a pretty
safe bet that she’d be stuck cooking and I want to catch the game tonight.”

“You need to stay out of this,” I tell him. His heart might be in the right place, but we’re already in a very delicate spot, more than likely unhealthy by most standards. If Melanie feels like anyone is forcing us together, I have no doubt in my mind that she will run the other direction. “I told you last night that I’m going to talk to her, but you have to promise me you’ll butt out and
not
involve Jacob in your games. If Melanie and I are meant to be, it’s not going to be because you had my son help manipulate either of us.”

Braydon crosses the room so he’s standing inches away from me. I’m expecting him to get defensive or be his usual
prickish self, so I’m unprepared for what comes next. His hand lands on my shoulder, holding me firmly as he stares directly into my eyes. It’s unnerving to see the determination in his gaze, but I refuse to look away.

“Look, I’m not trying to overstep, I just really think you two have something special. I know I wasn’t on board with her being back in your life, but that was before.
” I try to pull away from Braydon, not caring to be reminded of how adamantly opposed he was to Melanie taking care of Alyssa. There were days I truly thought we were going to wind up in a physical altercation because, by the time Braydon saw Melanie at my house the first time, I knew how good she was for all of us. “You two aren’t the only ones Alyssa talked to before she died. She wasn’t stupid, she knew that you still loved Melanie and she wasn’t threatened by it. She
wants
you to be happy in life. And if that means fixing what you two managed to fuck up back then, so be it.”

After Braydon and Jacob leave, I refill my coffee mug and sit down at the dining table. I don’t dare sit on my new couch because it’s comfortable enough I know I would fall asleep. I didn’t sleep worth a damn last night after standing in the doorway watching Melanie and Jacob sleeping next to one another. All night, the images in my head flashed from my past with Melanie to Alyssa and the almost three years of our time together that she spent trying to beat cancer, to a future with Melanie and Jacob. I know I can’t lie to myself anymore and push Melanie away, but that doesn’t make it any easier to deal with the feeling that I’m betraying Alyssa’s memory.

Melanie doesn’t knock when she returns. She sits across the table from me, apprehensively reaching for my hands. Distance is probably a good thing right now because, if I had my way, I would pull her onto my lap and kiss her until neither of us can breathe. As we sit there in silence, I watch the steady rise and fall of her chest. The longer we stare at one another, the more her breath quickens. It’s as if we both have our hand on the doorknob and know we’re about to open a door that we’ll never be able to close. “Hey,” she finally says, her voice barely above a whisper.

Her thumbs slowly trace over the backs of my hands, soothing me. This beautiful, amazing woman is once again taking care of me, no matter what her own feelings are on wh
at is or isn’t between us. If it wasn’t for having Jacob in my life, I would kick myself every single day for ever letting her go. “Where do we go from here, Mel?”

There’s no point making small talk. We both know that is the million dollar question; the question that will determine what is said next. I hold my breath as I wait for her response, knowing that I will struggle with any answer she can give me. But that’s on me and she deserves for me to be willing to man up and deal with the shit in my head. Rather than speak, I watch as Melanie walks into the
kitchen, wrapping my foot around the leg of the chair, willing myself to not follow her. If she needs a bit of space before answering me, I’ll give her that. It’s the least I can do. After getting something to drink, Melanie joins me at the table again, this time pulling a chair over so she’s sitting next to me.

“Where do you want it to go?” she asks, propping her feet on the edge of the seat. I see the faintest hint of the Melanie who was a part of my life back then return in her uncertain eyes. That same look, the one that says she’ll do anything to please me, used to fill me with a sense of love and power, but today it only compounds the sadness. I don’t want that Melanie back because I’m no longer the man I was back then. And she sure as hell isn’t the same woman she was.

“I have no clue what I want, all I know is I can’t look you in the eye and tell you I’m not in love with you,” I admit, reaching over to tuck a stray tendril of hair behind her ear, allowing my fingers to glide down the length of her soft curls. I close my eyes, remembering how I used to comb my fingers through her hair for hours as we sat talking in the dark. “Part of me hates myself for feeling the way I do. I hate that Alyssa has only been gone a couple of months and I’ve spent the majority of that time trying to convince myself that I don’t love you. I hate wondering if I’m deluding myself to think that we will ever be able to love one another without holding onto the bitterness of the past. But, more than anything, I hate the thought of not having you in my life.”

The longer we sit, the faster my heart races. I start berating myself for being so blunt about what I’m feeling. I look over and see Melanie pressing her lips tightly, gripping at the fabric of her jeans.

“Say something,” I plead with her, needing to be put out of my misery. If she’s going to tell me she doesn’t feel the same, that’s fine as long as I know that she means it. She stands again and I want to push her down in the chair, forcing her to stay and talk about this. But she doesn’t walk away from me, she walks to me, wrapping her arms around my neck.

“You know this might not work, right?” she asks, her breath tickling my neck. More than anything, I want to turn around and pull her tight against my chest. Knowing that she’s willing to take a chance on us means more to me than I thought it would. “And I think we need to be careful when Jacob’s around. Until we know for sure what’s going on, I don’t want him to get his hopes up. He’s already lost his mom, I won’t make him go through another loss if I can help it.”

She doesn’t understand that even if we never took this step, Jacob and I would both feel an emptiness if she wasn’t in our lives. I’ve known for a while now that Jacob is so infatuated with Melanie that he’d be devastated if she walked away, but last night proved to me that he’s not the only one. Watching her shield my son from the nightmares as they both slept filled a small void that has been heavy in my chest since Alyssa died.

“I know,” I sigh, turning in my chair. I circle my arms around her waist, resting my forehead against her stomach.
Feeling the warmth of her body against my skin as her fingers tangle in my hair, smelling her citrus body wash and hearing her take one deep breath after another has me craving more. Everything about Melanie is so familiar and I want nothing more than to reacquaint myself with the sight of her beautiful body laid out before me and the taste of her kiss. “But I’m sick of telling myself that you’re just a friend. You’ve never been
just
a friend to me. The way I see it, this is the only scenario that has any chance of working.”

I tilt my head back and see Melanie looking down at me. She brushes the hair off my forehead before leaning in to kiss my brow. It’s not enough, but just feeling her lips against my skin
stokes the fire building inside of me. “We can’t be what we were before. You do know that, right? There’s no way to fix what we had in the past because that didn’t work for either one of us.
If
we decide to move forward, it has to be in hopes that we can build something completely different. Something healthy and functional for all three of us.”

My stomach churns at the notion that she thinks I want to go back to the type of relationship we had back then. While it was fun and felt natural for her to submit to me, that’s not what I need now.
At some point, I want to sit down and have a long talk with her about why I decided to turn my back on that part of my life. When she left, it felt like I had gotten so caught up with how I thought a power exchange relationship should work that I lost sight of what was important. I was blinded when I fell in love with her and wrestled myself trying to regain the control I thought I had lost. The experience of loving and losing made it easy to walk away. At least that way I wasn’t constantly reminded of the pain.

I need her to be my equal, one who won’t hesitate to tell me when I screw up and doesn’t think twice before acting on
her instincts. That’s what she should have been back then and I have wondered over the past few months if she is truly submissive by nature or if it was easy for her to fall into that role because of where she was in her own life.

“Never,” I assure her. “I love you Melanie. I know I said that to you before and then hurt you, but I need you to know that this time will be different.”

“I know,” she whispers. Even though I wasn’t expecting her to profess her undying love for me, I feel somewhat let down by her simple answer. With so much uncertainty in my life lately, I was hoping to get a bit of reassurance from her that I’m not making assumptions of what she feels for me.

She reaches behind her body, intertwining our fingers before
taking a step back to pull me out of my seat. She then takes a step forward, so close that her body presses against mine. I reach down, lifting her face enough to show her how much this chance means to me. I cup the side of her face, my thumb gently caressing her cheek as I look at her in wonder. She tilts her head slightly, pressing her face harder to my hand as I continue staring at her. As much as I want to kiss her, the need to simply see her wins out. As long as I keep my eyes open and maintain the physical connection we have right now, I will know she’s truly here with me. That is, until I watch as the tip of her tongue peeks between her lips, slowly licking from one side to the other.