Temporary Bliss (21 page)

“Mac, you’re drunk. You shouldn’t be going anywhere!” he shouts behind me.

“I’m fine. I’ll catch a cab!” I yell back as I push my way through the crowd into the fresh night air.

I find myself leaning against the wall outside the bar, trying to catch my breath and clear my head. But I can’t.

“Are you okay there?” a bouncer asks, looking concerned. “You need a cab, hon?”

I nod, unable to answer. All I can think about is Daniel. His smile, his eyes, the way his hand would glide over my skin and leave me trembling. I need my Daniel.

So as the bouncer ushers me into the open cab door and closes it behind me, I do the one thing I thought I’d never do again, and definitely shouldn’t be doing in my inebriated state.

I give him Daniel’s address.

Stumbling into the foyer of Daniel’s building, I’m focused on walking in a straight line, and laying my eyes on the man of the hour. The doorman tries to help me, but I shoo him away. I can tell by the crinkled lines around his eyes that he’s trying not to laugh at me. Hell, I’m struggling not to laugh at myself.

“Do you need an escort?” he asks.

“I have a perfectly capable man upstairs, so no, I do not need any escort services,” I slur as I push the elevator call button.

Once I’m inside and the doors are closed, I start to panic. What if he has company? What if he’s not even home? I should have texted him. Maybe I should text him now.

I pull my phone out and see the text Zander sent me about my ass. Starting a new text message, I select Daniel’s name (which is now listed as DO NOT CALL HIM EVEN WHEN DRUNK) in my phone.

Mac:
Are you home tonight?

Great conversation starter there, Mac. Well done. I giggle at my own message. Not waiting for a reply, I type another message.

Mac:
I wanna see your superhero tricks.

Mac:
I may be a bit drunk
.

Mac:
Your doorman is weird.

Mac:
Is Nasty Nikki there too? Making you feel better?. Tell her to keep her skanky hands off you.

The elevator doors reopen on Daniel’s floor, and I stumble out, quickly finding his door and knocking quietly, giggling like it’s the funniest thing ever.

When he opens the door, I lose the ability to talk. He’s holding his phone in his hand and looking more confused than ever. Where usually there is a warm smile, tonight there is a furrowed brow and a look that could almost be hurt.

“You’re drunk texting me?” he asks, his face remaining stoic as we stand in his doorway.

Suddenly I’m feeling embarrassed and am starting to reconsider how wise it was to just turn up, effectively unannounced and drunk.

“Ah, I got in the cab and they asked me where I wanted to go, and this was where I wanted to be.” I shrug. “But I swear your doorman is a bit weird. He asked me if I wanted an escort,” I look around and lean forward to whisper to him, “but I said I didn’t need any escort services when I have you.”

He shakes his head, his body still rigid and unwelcoming. “Why are you here Mac? Considering the last thing you said to me was that you couldn’t do this anymore.”

“I miss you. All week I’ve wanted to see you,” I say, bracing myself against the doorway as my head starts to spin.

“Come inside, Mac. I’ll sort out a cab or drive you home myself,” he says, gesturing me inside as his irritation becomes more and more evident.

I walk inside and then stop, spinning around on my heels and stumbling a bit before leaning against the living room wall.

“I don’t wanna go home, Daniel. That’s why I came to see you. I missed your face.” I walk up to him and kiss him on the lips, quick and hard, swaying a bit as I pull away. He puts his hands on my biceps to steady me.

“Mac,” he growls.

“DD,” I sigh, melting into his touch. I look around his apartment. “She’s not here, is she?”

“Who?” he answers gruffly.

“Nasty Nikki.”

“Mac, she’s not nasty,” he says exasperatedly. “And no, she’s not here. Why would she be here?”

“Cause you had coffee with her and she touched you. She is nasty. She makes glarey eyes when you’re not looking, and she touches you when she’s not allowed.”

Checking that I’m steady, he removes his hands and walks over to the kitchen, grabbing a clean glass from the cupboard and filling it with water. He returns and directs me to the couch where he pushes me down until I’m sitting and hands me the water. “Drink this. I’ll get you some Tylenol as well. I think you’re going to need it. Just let me get changed and I’ll take you home.”

I’m dumbfounded. I may be drunk as a skunk, but I didn’t expect him to be so cold.

I watch him walk down the hallway towards his bedroom, returning a few minutes later with his Chicago Bears’ hoodie on as well as his sneakers. He holds his hand out and hands me two painkillers. “Take these,” he orders. I grab them and swallow them both down with one gulp of water.

He sits down on the coffee table in front of me, his knees brushing against mine.

“Not that it matters, but I just happened to run into Nikki today. It wasn’t planned, and it definitely wasn’t anything more than coffee with an old friend.”

“But she was touching you. I don’t want anyone to be touching you except me,” I say matter-of-factly. I know I’m messing this up, but his whole demeanor has put my whole sexting, booty call plan up the shit.

Leaning forward, he places his palms on my knees, sending delicious shivers right through me.

“You said you couldn’t do this, Mac.”

“I didn’t think I could.”

“Well, I think I need to get you home and maybe we can talk again when you’re not drunk.” He stands and holds his hand out to me. “I’ll drive, and I can come over and see you tomorrow.” I can see him clenching his jaw, he’s torn right now.

“I don’t want to go home, I want to stay with you,” I whisper, looking up at him as tears start to well in my eyes.

“Shit. Mac, you need to stop this,” he says, sitting back down on the couch beside me. “I don’t want you to regret this.”

I scoff. “My only regret is walking out on you last Sunday.”

He looks at me in disbelief, but I can still see the anger simmering underneath. “Mac, I can’t deal with this right now. We can talk tomorrow.”

I shake my head from side to side. “I wanna talk now.”

“You couldn’t tell me what was wrong last week. Let’s just leave it.”

“No!” I shout, shocking him.

“Mac, I’m not adverse to throwing you over my shoulder and carrying you out of here,” he growls. Damn, mad Daniel is hot!

“Do it. I don’t care. I want to explain. No, I need to explain.” I place my hand on his cheek, stilling him.

He sighs again. “Okay. You can say what you want to say, but then I’m taking you home.” I can tell he’s reluctant, but as he crosses his arms across his chest and looks at me expectantly, I know that it’s now or never.

“I missed you,” I say, looking at him.

“I’ve missed you too,” he says, the hard edge in his eyes softening slightly.

I lick my lips, suddenly nervous. “Okay, so I need to say some stuff, and although it’s not easy for me to share, I want you to know. I need you to understand why I am the way I am.”

He watches me expectantly, and my lips curve into a sly smile as my eyes take him in. “God, you’re beautiful. I almost forgot how much I love just looking at you.”

He shakes his head, ruefully. “I’m nothing next to you, gorgeous.”

I instantly feel warm, and my nervousness disappears. I feel at ease now; enough to talk freely. Maybe this won’t be as hard as I imagined. I take a deep breath to clear my head, stuck on how to start the story of how Beau Gregory ruined me.

“I’m sorry.” The two words that have been on the tip of my tongue for over a week now.

“I’m starting to get that, gorgeous, considering you turned up on my doorstep drunk and wanting to talk,” he explains.

“Well, yeah, but it’s more than that. I didn’t really give you a chance.”

“Not really.” He leans forward and gently grabs my hand, urging me to go on.

“It was self-preservation,” I answer honestly. “My feelings for you are so strong, and intense...I couldn’t deal with it. The last time I fell hard and fast, I wound up broken.”

He runs his thumb across my knuckles as he waits for me to start talking.

“When I was twenty, I moved to Ohio with my high school boyfriend.” I can already feel the weight lifting off my shoulders. “He had lost his job here and couldn’t find work, so when his uncle called and offered him a job in Dalton, he took it. He wanted me to go with him. Said he couldn’t live without me and that it would be a fresh start, so I dropped out of nursing school and went with him, against everyone’s wishes.”

“Kate wasn’t a fan I take it?” he asks.

“Not at all. Beau had changed a lot in the few months before we left, and everyone could see it, but I still saw the man I’d fallen in love with.”

I see the hardening of Daniel’s face as soon as I say that. Definitely not something he liked hearing.

“A few months after we’d arrived, I realized that the nice, loving, easy going guy that I had fallen in love with back in Chicago was long gone, and I was living with an arrogant, self-serving, controlling asshole instead. He tried to rule my life, controlling everything I did, who I saw, how I dressed, everything,” I continue, pausing briefly to look over at him. All this serious talk seems to be having an instant sobering effect, fuck it!

“Eventually, he started losing his temper. Mainly words, but occasionally he would push me out of the way, squeeze my arms to get a point across, and twice he actually punched me.”

Daniel stands up and walks to the window, planting both hands on the glass. By the way his head has fallen down and the speed in which his chest is rising and falling, I can tell he is angry.

“I just need a moment.”

“I’m sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have…”

“Mac, don’t apologize, you did nothing wrong. It’s just taking a lot of self-control not to punch something, preferably that asshole’s fucking head.”

I stand there, mouth agape, for a few minutes, taking in his words. Especially when I realize that he is angry for me, not at me.

He turns around, leaning his back against the glass, and stares down at me. “Keep going, gorgeous. I want to hear it.”

“Okay,” I reply shakily. “Kate kept telling me to come home, but there was no way Beau would let me leave, not unless it was his doing. So the more overbearing he became, the more trapped I felt, even when he wasn’t home. Usually he was off getting high and sleeping around.”

“Mac, you don’t-”

I snap my eyes up at him. “Yeah, I do.” He nods and I continue.

“Six months after moving, I found out I was pregnant. I’d always taken precautions, but somehow my shot had run out. Anyway, when he came home from work that night, and I told him, he went crazy mad. Kept saying it was my fault and how he didn’t want a bastard child with me. We got into a fight, and he slapped me down and stormed out. Later that night, I miscarried in the shower. I rang Kate, and she had me on the next flight home.”

He walks across the room towards the kitchen and braces himself against the counter, gripping his fingers tightly around the edge.

I get up and walk over to him gingerly, still affected by the night’s alcohol consumption, and worried about his reaction to what I’ve just said. I put my hand on his back, and he flinches.

“I just need a minute.” His voice is strained and rough. I can tell he’s trying to rein it in for me.

“I’m glad Kate was there for you,” he says, his voice laced with sadness.

“Me too. Doesn’t help with the guilt, though. I’ve always believed that I willed it to happen. Like I unconsciously wanted to miscarry.”

Hearing that, he turns around and places his hands on my waist. Pulling my body tight against his.

“Mac, it doesn’t work like that. It wasn’t your fault,” he says softly.

“I know, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. After that, I made a vow to myself that I would never let a man get close enough to break me. And I was doing well until you kind of wormed your way in.” I smile up at him.

He stands there, his eyes intent on my face. In this light, their caramel color almost looks amber. I get lost in him...his eyes, his face, his look of sadness. The slight flicker of latent heat grows stronger as the moments pass by.

I take a deep breath and whisper, “I want this...us.”

“Gorgeous, right now, those are the best four words I’ve ever heard come out of that beautiful mouth.”

And then I see it. The look he’s giving me. It’s the same look that terrified me a week ago, but right now it’s making my heart feel close to bursting.

“Okay,” I reply, burrowing my head into the nook between his neck and collarbone, relishing in his delicious smell as it surrounds me. This shit should be bottled and sold.

Then it hits me. My stomach turns, and I feel the tell-tale sign that my night is about to turn south. “Fuck,” I spit out as I turn and run towards the bathroom, getting there just before I start retching into the toilet.