Therapy (24 page)

I’ve been hiding for over a year inside myself. I know what it looks like to pretend to be okay, and she has red flags flying all around her.

“Are you really going to sit there with a smug smile on your face after pissing me off and disrespecting me like that?” she hisses as she stands up from our table.

“Yep, I am. I think you’re pretty adorable when you’re pissed off. I can’t help but smile at you right now. You just need to calm the hell down, not take things so seriously, and learn how to take a compliment. No need for a hissy fit. And no need to run off. I can give you a ride home.” I wait quietly while she mulls over my words.

She rolls her eyes and sighs dramatically as she drops down into her seat again. “Whatever,” she says as she crosses her arms over her chest. “I guess I’ll let you take me home, but don’t expect me to invite you up when we get there. And I still think you’re an ass,” she huffs.

“Oh, I would never expect that. I wouldn’t even ask,” I tell her, holding both hands in the air in surrender.

“Okay, well let’s go, then. I’m tired and I have to work tonight.” She’s still a little snippy, but I can see the worst of her tantrum has passed. I have to admit, I’m glad she didn’t just walk out. For a minute there, I wasn’t so sure.

“Oh, yeah? Where do you work?” I ask before sipping the last of my drink and chucking it.

“I work downtown at Rookies Sports Bar.”

“I know Rookies. Been there a time or two, but I’ve never seen you there.”

“Yeah, I haven’t been there long. I don’t really stick around most jobs too long.”

We get out to the parking lot and I grab the helmet and hand it to her. She grabs it, grimacing as she does.

“Oh, hush and put it on.”

“Are you always so bossy?” she asks.

“Yeah, pretty much. Don’t worry, it will grow on you.” I grin.

She rolls her eyes, but she’s trying really hard not to smile.

I pull up to her apartment building and turn off the engine. I can tell that she’s worried about me wanting to come up.

“Well, I hope I didn’t scare you off too badly. We have to hang out again soon,” I say without getting off the motorcycle. “Can I get your phone number by any chance?”

She eyes me and looks down at my phone as I hold it out to her. “I guess.” She grabs the phone and punches in her number before handing it back to me.

“You’re really not gonna try and come up?” she says, looking perplexed.

“No. You said you weren’t gonna invite me up. It’s cool, no worries,” I say, putting the helmet on. What she doesn’t know is I’m really not ready to come up anyhow.

She stands there, looking at me like she has no idea what to say. “I’ve never had a guy not want to come up. This is a first.”

I secure the helmet strap under my chin and chuckle, “Well, there’s a first time for everything.”

I start up my bike and pull out onto the road. I look back and she’s still standing there, just staring after me. I love that I’ve surprised her, threw her off guard, and showed her that not all guys are predictable. There’s a lot more to Jessica than what I saw today, and for the first time since Lily died, I feel a desire to get to know another person. The feeling is foreign to me, but not at all bad. In fact, it’s kind of exhilarating. We don’t meet people by accident. They’re meant to cross our path for a reason. Deep down, I know that she crossed my path for a big reason and I’m determined to find out what it is.

“Who I need is somebody that will eat up all my free time, my ego, my attention. Someone addicted to me.”

—Chuck Palahniuk

KINGSLEY IS ONE extremely baffling motherfucker. I have no idea what to think about the guy. I throw my keys on the countertop and go lie down on my sofa. I stare at the ceiling and think about our afternoon together. One minute he was sweet and sexy as hell, the next he was being a bastard to me.

Ugh, men are so damn confusing.

I look at my phone for the thousandth time. I’m furious with myself for not answering Jace’s phone call earlier because now I’m torturing myself waiting to see if he’ll call again. I know I said I was done with him, that we were over for good, and I meant it, but I decide to go ahead and text him anyway.

Because I’m weak.

Me:
Jace, I’m sorry I missed your call today. I do want to talk to you. Please call me if you can. I hope your mom is okay.

Liar.

Truth is, I couldn’t care less about his bitch of a mother. I abhor that woman and all her arrogant ways. I stare at the phone as if the harder I stare, the quicker it will make him respond.

God help me.

I decide to journal to try and keep my mind off of him and the weird day I’ve had with Kingsley. I swear, I have no idea why I need men so badly. They do nothing but piss me off and confuse me.

I get up, head to my bedroom, and flip on my lamp, grabbing my journal from my bedside table. I flick on my iPod and scroll to my Pink playlist. The music fills the quiet of my apartment and I let it fuel me, move me, inspire me. I flop down on my bed, reach over for the pen in my drawer, flip through my journal pages, and start to write.

Fleeting moments

Laughter bleeding

In between the lines of sin

Purged my soul from within

Stripped it all away

Gave it all to him

Freedom

Clarity

Air...

Breathe it in

Fleeting moments

Captured for only a short time

Never could be forever

But could’ve always stayed kind

Fleeting moments

Now floating away

On the wings of bitter good-byes

Why?

Misguided, missteps

Blurred lines

Faults at my feet

He deserves better than me

I keep staring at my phone’s screen this morning, wondering if Jace will respond to my text or if this really is the end of us. I know I told him to go live his life, but the truth is I miss him. He's on my mind constantly. Common sense screams at me to just let him go. Too many years have separated us, too many bridges have been burned, and he has Victoria now.

But he's the first thought in my mind when I wake up each day, and the last each night when I close my eyes. Somehow, after all these years, he’s come back into my life. It almost feels like we found each other again for a reason. Like we really were meant to be together.

At the same time, I know that I'm really in no position to love someone right now. My life is so upside down. I can't say that I even know how to properly love another person. I know how to hang on to someone, how to manipulate someone, how to lie and cheat and fool someone.

But love them? No.

Every time I look into that man’s eyes, I see everything that I was, everything that I am, and everything that I can be. It’s so hard to let go. You can’t flip a switch; you can’t push a button and banish the love you feel for someone.

My phone dings and I instantly feel a bolt of excitement inside my chest. I look at the screen and see that it’s a number I don’t recognize. Before I can open the text, I hear a knock at my door and hop up, pocketing my phone as I make my way to my peephole. It's Kingsley.

What the hell is he doing here?

I really hate people just showing up. It's so rude! I open the door and frown at him, letting him know that I'm not happy about this unannounced visit.

“What are you doing here, Kingsley?” And there's that grin. His laid-back, happy-go-lucky attitude makes me want to scream.

“Well, top of the morning to you too, sweet pea.”

Sweet pea?

“Do not call me sweet pea! And again, what are you doing here?”

He’s dressed in athletic pants and a Dri-FIT shirt with running shoes on. It seems he's hot no matter how he's dressed.

“I'm here to pick you up,” he says confidently.

“Umm, when did we make plans for you to pick me up this morning? I don't recall such a thing being planned,” I tell him, totally unsettled and taken off guard by this turn of events.

“I texted you.”

His smile widens and it’s all I can do not to return it. I'm determined to keep this guy at a safe distance because even though I’m beyond attracted to him, he scares the hell out of me. I can always predict guys. When they all want the same thing from you it’s not hard to do. And I've gotten really good at staying disconnected from any guy I hang out with. But Kingsley is different. He gets under my skin and the last person to get under my skin like this was—

I cut off that thought before I have a chance to complete it. “Shouldn't you be at work or something?” I ask.

“Nope, it's Saturday. I don’t work at the shop on weekends and I have no clients at the gym until later today.”

“Okay, so why are you here?” I don’t mean to be rude, but he did just show up unannounced on my doorstep.

“I'm here to take you with me to do my morning workout. So go put on some workout clothes and lets go!”

I can't help myself—I burst out laughing. He must have had his brain altered by aliens in the course of the night or something. I don't go to the gym. The gym is like a magnifying glass for flaws. I've never been to one where I didn't feel like I was putting myself on display to be compared to the other women in there.

“Are you kidding me? There's no way in hell that I'm going to a gym. Why on God’s green earth would you assume I'd agree to go work out with you? I'm not a gym girl, Kingsley. It's not my kind of thing.”

He crosses his arms in front of his broad chest and smiles that fucking smile that kills me every time. I swear, I just want to suck those full lips right off his scruffy face!

“Jessica, I get the impression that you're a nothing-is-my-thing type of girl. I also get the feeling you rarely try new things, and I think you're dealing with a lot of stress. A workout is the single most effective thing for stress. Just come with me. If you hate it, we’ll leave. I promise.”

“Kingsley, I worked until two in the morning and I'm exhausted. The last thing I feel like doing is working out,” I whine. He just stands there expectantly, staring at me. “Do you have a habit of showing up at girls’ houses and dragging them to the gym? Why did you ever think I'd be game for this?”

As much as I hate to admit it to myself, I’m actually intrigued by the idea of spending the morning with him. But the damn gym? Ugh. I’m really not feeling it. But he's so damn persuasive, and sitting around this apartment all day being depressed over Jace doesn't sound very appealing. It suddenly occurs to me that I probably look like hell. I try, unsuccessfully, I might add, to straighten my hair with my hands without Kingsley noticing.

“Oh, who cares what your hair looks like? Go put on some sweats, a T-shirt, and a ball cap and let’s go. You look great just the way you are.”

He’s serious!

I look like shit and definitely need some time to put myself together. I know I must have dark circles under my eyes, and I can only imagine how washed-out I look without my makeup on right now.

“I look like ass. I cannot go out looking like this. I have to put some makeup on or something.” And that’s that.

Well, apparently that isn’t that, because he just walks on into my apartment like he lives here and starts ordering me around!

“What’d I just say, Jess? Quit wasting time,” he tells me, and from his tone it sounds like he may have been a drill sergeant in another life. “Go put on some sweats, a T-shirt, brush your jibs and hair, and let’s go. You don’t need freaking makeup. I hate that crap anyway. Women should just embrace their natural state. All that gloppy shit is unnecessary. You’re beautiful—
you
—not some shit that you rub on your face. Now get a move on.” He says, shooing me toward my room with his hands.

This guy is unfuckingbelievable. He just leans up against my wall, crossing his large, very tan biceps across his equally large chest, and stares at me.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Go!”

“Okay, okay! Geez, I’m going, I’m going! Don’t get your man panties all in a wad,” I say sassily as I turn my ass around.

He laughs at my comment and I catch his smile in the mirror as I shuffle off to my room. I swear to Jesus, that man has got to have the whitest teeth I’ve ever seen peeking out from the most sexually arousing mouth that I’ve ever seen.

Good God, I’m in trouble here. Big trouble!

He opens the gym door for me and I can barely force myself to walk inside. I feel completely exposed and vulnerable as I cross over the threshold and into the slightly musky, humid air.

“Umm, don’t I have to have a membership or something to be here?” I ask, hoping there’s a way—any way—to get out of this.

“No, you’re my guest for the day,” he says as he strolls up to the counter.

The petite blond behind the counter is gorgeous, and she’s giving him her best fuck me eyes as she scans his key tag and hands it back to him.

“Have a good workout, Mr. Arrington,” she swoons.

I roll my eyes and sigh.

Yep, this is exactly the place I want to be, I said NEVER.

“So, is that why you like it here? All the females swooning over you at every flex or squat?”

“What are you talking about?” he asks as I follow behind him through a sea of workout equipment to the back of the gym.

“That chick was totally eye-fucking you. You can’t really tell me you don’t get that all the time here.”

He swings open a door to another room. “Actually, no, I don’t. Plus, while I’m here, I don’t pay attention to anything except what I’m here for.”