Therapy (32 page)

Her expression never softens and with every word she speaks I wonder how I ever found myself in a committed relationship with her. She’s nothing like me. We have almost nothing in common and her superiority complex is very unattractive. I used to think she was just a confident woman, but then confidence morphed into cockiness and she started looking down on people. I don’t know if she changed or if she was always that way and I never saw it.

“Victoria, we can’t get married,” I tell her. “I’m calling the wedding off. You deserve my honesty, at the very least. I’m not in love with you. You’re right; a man doesn’t treat the woman he loves like that. I’m sorry. I should’ve done this a long time ago.”

All of the color drains from her face and pure unadulterated fury rages in her eyes. I’m preparing for the verbal lashing that she’s about to deliver when the nurse returns.

“Mr. Collins, your mother is okay. They had a rough patch during the surgery, but she’s stable now. They have her in recovery. You should be able to see her soon.” Relief settles over me and I send out a silent thank you. The good news has absolutely no impact on Victoria’s glare.

“I’m going to see your mother and then I’m leaving. You, Jace Collins, are making a grave mistake. You will never find another woman as loyal, successful, or more dedicated than me. I would’ve carried on the legacy of your family’s name in a manner that bestowed honor and dignity to it. You’ll regret this. Mark my words. You are a fool!”

She turns and storms down the hallway, and I just let her go. I know this is the right decision. Deep down, whether she’ll ever admit it or not, she knows it too.

“How are you feeling?” I ask. Mom looks tired and weak. Lying here in this hospital bed, she looks nothing like the hardheaded, strong-willed woman that I know.

“I’m feeling fine, son. Although, I am very upset with what you did to that poor dear Victoria. She’s heartbroken, son. You have to go to her and fix it.”

I shake my head in disbelief.

She just won’t let it go.

“Mother, can you please focus on recovering and getting better? Please stop putting so much energy into my personal life.”

“Jace, I really didn’t want to do this and it may be a mistake, but I feel an obligation to you and our family to tell you.”

“What is it? Just know that nothing you say is going to change my mind.”

“I am doubtful of that. Victoria is pregnant.”

Suddenly, my insides turn upside down and my thoughts are running into each other at record speeds.

I feel sick.

“Jace, are you okay? Honey, don’t look so terrified. You’ll be a wonderful father, just like your father was.” She smiles and pats my hand reassuringly.

“Mom, how do you know this? Why wouldn’t she tell me? This makes no sense at all. I don’t understand.” I keep wracking my brain, trying to recall if there have been any signs of her being pregnant or hiding something from me, but I draw a blank. “This is crazy. She would’ve told me. I just called the wedding off. Why not tell me then? None of this makes sense, dammit.”

“Jace, there’s no need for foul language. She didn’t tell you because she wanted to marry you knowing you were doing it because you wanted to, not because you felt an obligation to. Now, she’s going to go off and raise that baby alone. Is that what you want for your child?” she asks, and my mind is spinning so fast I can’t even form a response. “I know the idea of being a parent for the first time is scary, but you’re a good man and you’ll be fine. I don’t want my grandchild being raised by a single mother. You need to keep the wedding on, Jace. Do the right thing by your child.”

Something in me snaps at the mention of
her grandchild
.

“Really mother? You’re concerned about the well-being of your grandchild now? Six years ago you had zero regard for your grandchild’s life. You didn’t care one single solitary bit about my unborn child. None!”

Her expression never changes. She’s not even shocked by my accusation.

“I know what you did and I know how far you went to make it all go away, to cover your despicable actions. She was eighteen, Mom. Eighteen!” I shout. “She was alone and scared. You were the adult and when she was teetering on the edge of that cliff, you willingly and happily gave her a push. So please, do not tell me about what’s best. You’re deluded. I’m so glad that Dad isn’t here to see the things you’ve done.”

Her expression is cold now. There’s no remorse, just nothing. She calmly tucks a piece of hair behind her ear and replies.

“I did what was best for my son, first and foremost. I have no regrets for protecting your future. The past is where it belongs—in the past. You’ll go and make things right with Victoria. You won’t tell her you know, because if you do, she won’t go through with the wedding. You make her believe you made a mistake and you follow through with that wedding. You raise your child in a loving home and do what Collinses do. You hold your head high and be proud of yourself for all that you have and all that you are.” She says all this as if she’s reviewing the checklist for one of her parties, not laying out the plan for my life.

I stand up with no response and leave the room. I have nothing to say to her anymore. She is completely blind to how awful she was to a young girl and how badly it hurt me and Jess. She’ll never see the error of her ways. Trying to argue with her is a waste of time.

“Jace, I love you, son. Please, do the right thing,” she says as I close the door.

I have to see Jess and then I have to talk to Victoria.

“If you’re brave enough to say good-bye, life will reward you with a new hello.”

—Paulo Coehlo

JUST BEFORE I knock on the door, I take in a deep breath. I raise my fist to knock and right before my knuckles touch the door it swings open. One of the sloppiest, most handsome guys I’ve ever seen stands in the doorway with a huge smile on his face.

“You shaved some,” I notice. “Did you do that just for me?”

He scratches his chin and grins. “I cleaned it up a bit and you
may
have had a little something to do with that. You like?”

“I like.”

“Well, I have a surprise for you, so I hope you like more than that.” His eyebrows waggle up and down in a flirty way and his grin is killing me. His big, tough-guy persona mixed with his adorable good-guy ways is so damn sexy.

“What’s the surprise? I thought we were cooking again?”

“I’ve given you a cooking reprieve tonight and I’ve done all the cooking for us.”

I step into the house and my senses are attacked by an abundance of intoxicating aromas. Cinnamon, spice, banana, and caramel swirl through the air and my mouth waters instantly. As soon as I see the picnic blanket on the floor, I’m a goner.

“It’s a carpet picnic. Breakfast for dinner on the living room floor. Super classy, right?”

My eyes try to take it all in at once, but they can’t. Beautiful place settings sit on top of a red and white checkered blanket, candles are flickering throughout the room, a bouquet of flowers is centered on the blanket, and the most delicious-looking waffles I’ve ever seen are placed on pristine white plates topped with some type of bananas and sauce. It all looks so fancy. I never knew breakfast could look so elegant.

I look up at Kingsley, speechless.

“Is it too much? I just wanted to surprise you and I want you to like being here. If it’s too much we can put the lights on and move it to the kitchen table.”

“No, hell no! I love it, all of it. I love every single part of it. No one has ever done anything like this for me before. It’s... I don’t even know what to say, Kingsley. It’s perfect.” I’m so incredibly moved by his thoughtfulness.

A big smile stretches across his face, simple and sincere, and I know: I love him. I can feel it. Not the lustful, needy I-have-to-have-him kind of love or the I’ll-die-without-him love. I love him from way down deep, from a quiet place that I rarely visit. I love him like a person loves the calm of a lake in the early morning hours when it’s unmoving, still and peaceful. Kingsley is my calm. I don’t love him because I want his love or because of some incessant need. I love him because he sees me and allows me to be me while never letting me forget who I can be. He never tries to fix me and he always, no matter how mad it makes me, forces me to see past my own bullshit. I love him in a way that I’ve never loved before. I love him unselfishly. For once, I don’t need to have someone’s affirmation or affections to know that they value me. For once, I feel love for the simplest and most authentic reasons. I love him because it’s true. I know it and I feel it. It doesn’t feel heavy or burdensome. It feels freeing and light. Love with no conditions. It’s the most comforting thing I’ve ever felt in my entire life. For the first time, I love someone without expecting anything in return.

“Hey, where did you go? It’s time to eat. I’m hungry as hell.”

I want to tell him, but I can’t. He wouldn’t believe me if I did. For now, I’m just going to enjoy this night and not think about anything. I’m just going to step outside my mind for a little while and enjoy him and our time together.

“You have such a way with words, Kingsley,” I laugh out.

“You know it, darlin’. I’m a refined dude through and through,” he says with a mischievous smirk. He kneels down and starts pouring our drinks.

“These are mimosas, which I’m sure you are familiar with. I figured they were better suited to this food than wine.”

“Yum, it all looks so good. Where did you learn to cook all of this stuff? I know breakfast is supposed to be easy, but this doesn’t look like a typical breakfast at all.”

“
My mom is a great cook and I have three sisters. I was completely outnumbered growing up. I had no choice but to know my way around a kitchen. They never gave me a pass for being a boy. I guess it paid off.”

“Do you see them often, your family?”

His face softens a little at my question.

“Nah, not really in the past year.”

“Because of Lily?” I ask.

“I guess. I don’t know. I just hated the pity and the looks. I’m still me, you know? But they all treat me like I need their pity or like I’m gonna break or some shit. That’s why I like being around you. You treat me like me. Even after I told you about Lily, you never changed. You’re still you and I’m still me; nothing changed. We just get each other. No bullshit, no games, no smoke and mirrors. I just hate the pity party shit. I don’t believe in pity or self-loathing. That’s why it irritates the hell outta me when you go down that road. When you talk down to yourself, it makes me nuts. You can’t live like that. That’s not living. That’s living a rented life, wasting it by feeling sorry for yourself. I have felt pain and I’ve blamed myself for Lily. Of course, I fight that inner battle, but I’ll be damned before I let it take over my mind completely. Accepting the ugly shit in life is just part of living. Pain tells us we are still here; it lets us know we’ve survived. When you really think about it, pain can free you, because without pain there is no pleasure in anything.”

His words settle around us and I realize how unbelievably strong he is. I want to hug him, squeeze him, and tell him how happy I am to have him in my life.

“Kingsley, thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being you. You’re a gift. You make me see things in ways I never would otherwise. Oh, and you are an amazing cook! Thank you for that too,” I joke, trying to make things less heavy. He smiles and takes a huge bite of his waffle.

“You haven’t tried it yet. Go ahead, it’s my take on bananas foster without the ice cream. It’s just a bunch of good shit on top of fresh waffles. My sister got us a waffle griddle and I haven’t used it in forever.”

My plate is full of fluffy waffles and bananas swimming in a brown caramel sauce. And the smell is so freakin’ good.

“Oh my! Jesus, Kingsley, this is amazing. Holy hell, I’m coming here for breakfast every day if this is what it’s like.”

“Score,” he says, jokingly pumping his fist in the air.

“You’re a nerd.”

“Yep and you’re a dork. We are perfect for each other,” he laughs.

“Yeah, I think we might be,” I say, looking down and feeling a blush sweep across my face. I look back up and he’s unmoving. Our eyes connect, and somewhere in the midst of the laughter and jokes something changes. His eyes, rings of dark blue infused with an emotional fire, look into me. The room falls silent and not even the music coming from the kitchen can be heard as we stare at each other. If I’m completely honest with myself, I know that we want each other. He has tried to fight it, but it’s here. It’s hanging so heavily in the air that you can almost reach out and touch the need, the want.

“Jessica.”

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you again after we eat?”

“Why do we have to wait?” My breathing increases as I watch him think about my question.

“We don’t.” His words are short and sweet, but absolute. Kingsley extends his hand to me and I reach toward him, intertwining our fingers before he pulls me to my feet. We sidestep the carpet picnic and he tugs me in closer to his broad chest. His scent wraps around me like a blanket, intoxicating and warm, comforting. When he lifts my chin, I’m mesmerized by the intensity of his gaze.

“Can I kiss you now?” he asks, and as I nod absently, I vaguely recognize that my words and my thoughts and my body and everything is no longer functioning properly now that I’m this close to Kingsley. “Keep your eyes open.”

“Okay,” I whisper hoarsely, my heartbeat thrumming in my chest. With a heat-filled glance, he lowers his head, caressing my lips with his, exploring their curves and contours tenderly. His soft tongue traces the lines of my mouth just before his teeth gently nip my lower lip, testing its fullness. On a soft exhale, the tension leaves my body and I melt into the magic of this moment, turning it from a mere kiss into a dance. Forward, backward, push and pull, we slowly move together and become one. My eyelids feel heavy as the pleasure of this kiss surges through me. I’m lost in this moment, lost in this man.

“No, keep them open,” he implores, pulling away from the kiss for a moment. My eyes flutter back open and two large hands cup my cheeks. The callused pads of his fingertips graze my skin and he lowers his lips back to mine. He claims my mouth again, this time with more hunger, more need. The moans escaping him are sexy as hell, and I instantly give in as he pulls me closer to his hard body. I can feel his arousal, his need for me; it’s the start of my complete undoing. Sparks fly through my body when his fingers weave through my hair, molding to my scalp, tugging just enough to make me release the sounds I’ve been holding back. His lips leave mine and he moves to my neck. One, two, three kisses as he licks a path to my earlobe. I can feel his warm breath as it glides across my skin. Chills fan across my body as desire rushes through my veins.

“I want you, Jessica.” Kingsley’s voice is low, his plea sexy and sinful, and I know without a doubt that I want him too—so much—but I’m terrified. I’m so scared and I don’t even know why. Sex isn’t scary to me. I know I want him, I want this, but something inside of me is fearful. He’s different—we’re different. Kingsley is the real thing and this isn’t high school. I love him, but I love him differently than I have ever loved before. I don’t know if I’m worthy of him, of this. How can I possibly live up to what he deserves? My head is at war with my heart and body. I can’t make sense of any of it, especially with him holding me and kissing me like this.

“Get out of your head, Jessica.”

“Kingsley, why? Why now? You said—”

“I know what I said. I also know what I feel. You can’t tell me you don’t care about me; I know you do, just like you know exactly how I feel about you. And if you don’t, I’m sorry, but I’m here to set you straight right now. I want you, all of you. I want to show you what sex really is, what it’s meant to be. It’s so much more than what you’ve known. God, I want to show you everything it can be. Let me show you love, Jessica. Let me show you what it’s like to feel completely loved physically, mentally, and emotionally. I’m in love with you, Jessica. You’ve given me everything without even knowing it. I want to give every piece of me back to you.”

I suck in a breath and abandon all my fears at once. He loves me? “I love you, too.” Those are the last words we speak. His eyes grow wide and, in one swift motion, he scoops me up off of the floor and carries me down the hall into the bedroom. I feel weightless in his arms, safe surrounded by his love. A large four-poster cherry wood bed is centered in the room, and he carefully places me onto it. He pushes the stereo button on the bedside table and music fills the air.

“Do you trust me?” His voice catches on the question, as if he’s unsure of my answer.

“Yes.” I watch the tension ease from his body.

“Keep your eyes open.” His husky voice has my skin tingling. “Don’t even close them when you feel your body come apart around me.” Pictures of my body unraveling under his pop into my mind, and my breathing speeds up momentarily. “I mean it,” he says. Then he leans over and kisses me, reading my need and satisfying his own. “I want to see you, watch you watching me every second while I show you what love feels like.”

I nod and brace myself for something completely unfamiliar to me. I’d say something but even the simplest words escape me right now. He reaches down to the edge of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. His broad chest and smooth skin are magnificent. I let my gaze travel over his body, taking mental notes of each place I intend to touch. Shaggy hair falls into his eyes when he starts unbuttoning his pants. He kicks the jeans off and closes the distance between himself and the bed. His body is overwhelming, powerful. He’s all man and the trail that disappears into the band of his boxers kills me. He reaches out, breaking my trance, and pulls me closer so that my feet dangle off the edge a bit. Our stare never breaks as he positions himself between my legs.