Tasting, Finding, Keeping: The Story of Never (12 page)

“My name is Vanessa Pickett, and I have worked as a professional escort, a stripper, and even a madam. I'm not proud of it, but I also can't claim I was forced into it or driven to it through abuse. I had a good life, and I was raised well, but there was something inside of me that sought out more. I was always seeking it, but could never find it.” She's looking straight at me, waiting for some kind of reaction. I refuse to give her one.

“When my son passed away, I was forced to look at the world in a different way. I realized that I had missed out on his life. Spending time with people you love and who love you is the easiest path to recovering that part of yourself that's missing. Whether it's a lover or a friend or a child, the best place to find solace is in a warm heart.”

“Or a warm bed,” I say because I'm getting pissed off. I might've left my baggage at the clinic, but now I feel open and empty and bare. I don't like that. Not at all. My fear makes me angry, and right now, I want to rage.

“Tell me, Never,” Vanessa says, trying to distract me with the bag of shiny coins that sits in front of her. “How many days has it been since you last had sex.”

“A week.” I don't look at Ty.

“And you, Mr. McCabe?” I hear him swallow.

“A week.”

The group claps and Vanessa retrieves two, shiny, red chips from her bag. She passes them over to Ty who drops one in my palm.
Seven Days
is etched into the top. Great.

“This is the one thing we have adopted from the other addiction groups that are out there. It's a good reminder, something to keep in your pocket, a physical declaration of your commitment. We stop giving the chips out at six months. After that, if you're ready to have sex with someone, then that's your choice.”

“Isn't it always my choice?” I snap, but Ty steps in before I can make an even bigger ass out of myself.

“Is it alright if Never and I act as each other's sponsors?” Vanessa nods and touches a finger to her tablet.

“Absolutely,” she says as she glances at some of the other group members. “This isn't about rules or punishments or meetings, this is about saying what needs to be said, learning from others, and getting better.”

“Thank you,” Ty tells her honestly as I watch Vanessa pull out a blue chip. It says
One Month
on it, and all of a sudden, I am just so freaking pissed off that I can't sit still. I watch as some of the other group members celebrate milestones and feel this hot rage boiling inside of myself. I keep a lid on this, hold it back while people make dinner plans to celebrate being able to keep their dick in their pants, to keep their fucking legs closed. Good for them. Great for them.

“So, Ty, I'd like to ask you about your turning point. We all have them, something that changes our mind, that makes us aware of our problem. What's yours?”

I let my anger get the best of me once and for all and answer for him.

“He was afraid that I loved him, so he fucked somebody to forget about me.”

“Never,” Vanessa begins but I cut her off.

“Then he came over and fucked me. That's his turning point. Want to hear mine?”

“Come on, Never,” Ty says, reaching out and trying to take my hand. I pull it away from him and rise to my feet. My breath is coming in short, sharp bursts, and I can't sit still. I look around the group, scan the faces that are raised to mine, and I don't see straight. I need to get out of here. Now.

“I have to go,” I say, and then I turn and run away as fast as my legs can carry me.

Ty finds me a few hours later sitting on the swings outside his house.

I've been here all day, waiting for him, wanting to apologize. When I hear his footsteps and look up, he smiles at me.

“I went to your dorm, but you weren't there.”

“Did you fuck anybody?” I ask, ready to get up and leave. I didn't. I wanted to, but I resisted the urge. I came here instead, ran all the way here and sat on this swing for three and a half hours waiting. For what, I don't know, but I did, and I want Ty to respect that.

“I didn't,” he promises me.

“Liar.”

“Never, if I had, I would tell you.”

“You're the kind of guy that lies, that cheats, that – ” Ty takes my chin in his hand and forces me to look at him. I try to jerk my gaze away, but he won't let me.

“Maybe. And you're the kind of girl that loves and leaves, that breaks hearts without even knowing that you're doing it. If you want, we could be good friends, Never.”

“I've been nothing but honest with you,” I tell him. “Can you do the same with me?”

“I'm willing to try,” he says, and when I open my mouth to protest, he releases me and steps back. “That's the best I can do. I'm sorry you feel betrayed by me, Never, I really do, but I never intended for that to happen. Just tell me what you want from me, and I'll do my best to respect that.”

“Ty, I have one chance left. If I give it to you, will you make sure that I don't regret it?”

“Of course,” he says, but I don't think he gets it.

“I'm drowning in lies, McCabe. One more and I will sink. Do you understand me?” Ty and I stare at one another for a long time. After a few moments, I sit back down on the swing. Ty moves around behind me and wraps his hands around mine, curling our fingers around the chains.

“Okay, Never,” Ty says. “Give me your chance, and I'll give you mine.” I look up at him, crane my neck up so that I'm leaning back on the swing. When Ty starts to push me, I don't protest.

“So am I allowed back to come back to the group?” Ty chuckles.

“Vanessa begged me to bring you next week. She says that you remind her of herself.” I smile because that woman is strong, like a pillar. I'd like to be that way someday, too. “So no sex for six months?” I ask and Ty grins.

“No sex for six months.”

“Should I get you tissues and lotion for Christmas?”

“Nah,” Ty says. “I can't wait that long for it. I'll get them myself. What about you? Do you want a vibrator for Christmas?”

“I have three.” Ty pauses and his dimples appear, deep and round in his perfect face.

“I knew it,” he says and a chuckle escapes my throat. Ty pushes me harder and I rise into the sky, feet pointed towards the stars.

“Ty,” I say because I think this is important. Whether Ty believes he did something wrong or not, I was angry with him, so I have to do this. “I forgive you.” Ty stops the swing by wrapping his arms around my waist and pressing his face into my hair. I get chills down my spine and the mood at our dark, little playground goes from angry to happy to sad.

“Thank you, Never,” he says and he sounds genuine. “I forgive you, too.” I smile and tilt my face back. Ty presses a soft kiss to my lips. We don't linger and we don't use tongue, but there's intent there and a promise to try. At this point, what else can I ask for?

Ty takes me up to his apartment. It's the first time I've ever been, and I'm impressed. It's a one bedroom, one bath, with a good sized living room and a small, galley kitchen. Ty says the girl he picked up trashed it when he asked her to leave (not that I blame her), but it looks perfect to me.

There's a big, red couch with a pair of black pillows, a coffee table in the shape of an eight ball, and pictures on every wall, framed photos of vintage cars.

“My mom took those,” Ty says, but he doesn't elaborate, and I don't ask, just follow him into his kitchen where he opens a stainless steel refrigerator and grabs a couple of beers. He opens mine for me and passes it over with a smile. I'm scoping out the kitchen now, touching bowls full of fruit and a stack of folded wash rags. Not bad for a young bachelor. “I know how to take care of myself,” Ty says as he notices me looking. I point at an electric stand mixer and he grins. “I said take care of, not pamper,” he tells me with a wink. “I won that at my work's Christmas party last year. If you want it, you can have it.” I give him a look that says,
I don't know shit about cooking,
and take a swig of my beer. It's malty and smells like roasted caramel. I love it, but then, I'm not exactly a connoisseur of alcoholic beverages. I almost wish that I was, that I used alcohol instead of sex to make my problems go away. Seems like that would be less complicated than this.

Ty motions me to follow after him, past a small wooden table with a pair of chairs, and into the bedroom where his twin bed sits against the wall, rumpled and disheveled. There's a squat dresser against the wall opposite and a flat screen TV sitting on top of it. Ty has these big, black curtains over his windows that block out all the moonlight, but that I guess come in quite handy in the morning.

I want to ask Ty if he ever did business in here, if he ever accepted money in exchange for false love, if this room is tainted. I keep my thoughts to myself, convinced that this is not the time or place for that. It doesn't matter anyway. What's done is done, and there's no taking it back. I push my trepidation and fear aside and look down at the bed.

“It's clean,” Ty tells me as reaches down and straightens the comforter, the pillows. “I don't bring people into my bedroom.” I raise my eyebrows and down half of my beer in one swig.

“What do you do with them?” Ty shrugs, but I don't press him for answers because I don't want to know. I decide that at the very least, I can sit in here without imagining Ty's cock sliding in and out of another woman. The thought makes me physically ill.
I am fucking jealous,
I realize which is ten shades of stupid because Ty and I are not a fucking couple. I don't want to be a fucking couple. I do not want a fucking boyfriend.

“Are you hungry?” he asks me. “There's a spicy curry stand that delivers from down the street, if you're into that kind of shit.”

“I love that kind of shit,” I tell him as he pulls out his phone. There's this weird moment in time where everything seems to slow as it drops down to the carpet in front of my feet. I bend down and pick it up out of habit, noticing too late that Ty is reaching out to stop me. The background on his phone is a photo of someone very, very familiar. “Ty?” I ask as I stare at hazel eyes flecked with green and ebony hair with one, angry, rebellious red streak. “I'm wearing the red dress I had on when we first met.”

“I thought you were beautiful,” he tells me with a smile. I hand him back the phone and he looks at the picture. I don't know when he managed to take it; I never saw him do it in those few, strange moments we shared in the bar. It's a nice picture, but it's a little weird. I shift uncomfortably. “I've taken a lot of pictures over the years.”

“I don't care.”

“Lots of women have graced this screen.”

“Men, too?” I ask sarcastically. I didn't mean to. The little monster inside of me is still there, still making me do things I don't want to do. I apologize immediately, keeping my eyes on the poster that lines Ty's door. It's a pinup girl by Gil Elvgren. She's got a hammer in one hand and her thumb in her mouth, face twisted all innocent like, at odds with her sexy thigh highs and pointed bra. For just a split second, I wish I was as glamorous as her, and then it fades away and I'm happy to be a modern woman who can rock jeans and a T-shirt the day after she rocks a cocktail dress. I like having choices.

“I'm not gay,” Ty tells me with a shrug. He sips his beer and grabs a cigarette out of a box on his dresser. It's not a Marlboro this time but a Djarum Black with cloves. They're banned in the US and I wonder where Ty got them from. I won't smoke them, but they smell good. Still, seeing that little, black cigarette in his mouth makes me want to quit. I don't know why; it just does.

“I never said that,” I tell him, finishing my beer and standing up so that we're facing one another. “I'm sorry.”

“Men pay better than woman, and it's easier to get clients.”

“You don't have to explain yourself to me,” I tell him as I turn around and walk into his kitchen like I own the place. I don't know how else to act. Ty and I are not close, not really; we don't even really know each other yet I feel like I've
always
known him, like he's a part of me, my other half or something. I wonder, if he could read my mind, would he ask to me to leave like he did with the last girl? Would he stop coming around? Would I scare him away? It's only now that I'm even admitting these thoughts to myself. They're scary as fuck, and I don't know what to do with them. I don't know why I feel like this, and I don't like it. I wish I'd never met Ty McCabe.

I put my beer on the counter and open the fridge. Ty stops me with a hand on my arm.

“I don't have to explain myself, but I want to. I wish you were interested in hearing what I have to say.”

“How do you know that I'm not?” Ty releases me and some of the anger goes out of his face. I make an effort not to slam the fridge and set the two beers on the counter before I turn to face him. He moves up next to me and pops both tops with a bottle opener he gets from inside a drawer. “You were saying something about curry?” I continue.

“Tell me about Noah Scott,” he says as he dials a number on his phone. I sigh.

“To tell you about Noah, I have to tell you about everything.”

“So do it,” Ty says. “Tell me.” He pauses. “Spicy curry or mild curry? Those are your only choices.”

“No choice of meat?” I ask.

“I don't know what it is, and I don't want to know,” Ty says as I hear a voice on the other end of the line. “It tastes good, and I'm not willing to risk never being able to eat it again.”

“Spicy,” I say and Ty grins.

“How did I know?” I tug on his nose ring, wondering how much it hurt, wondering why he thought it would be attractive to have a piercing in between his nostrils. It's quirky, I must admit, and it does suit the whole bad boy look he's got going on. “Two spicy curries,” he tells the man on the other end of the line. “Yeah, yeah, this is Ty.” Ty puts his hand over his mouth to block his voice from the receiver. “He's surprised because I only ever order one.”

“You never ordered in for your girlfriends?” Ty hangs up without another word, and I think it's funny that he's on a first name basis with the curry stand.

“I never had girlfriends, Never,” Ty says as he grabs my hand and pulls it away from his ring. He presses a kiss to my fingertips that only confuses me and pisses me off. I tug my arm back and cradle my fingers against my chest. “There were clients and there were fucks. There's not much more to it than that.”

“I was in love once,” I tell him. Ty's face falls.

“I've never been in love.”

We stand in silence until the curry arrives at the door. If someone were to spy on us through the window, they might think we were nuts, but it works for us. It works for Ty McCabe and Never Ross and that's just the way things are.