We Shouldn't and Yet... (5 page)

“Aideen.’’

I freeze, one foot on the first step. My back is to him and I’m thankful for it. I already feel a light blush creeping up my neck and to my face. I don’t get this. Why does his raspy voice do this to me? Why with just my name uttered in this peculiar way, I feel weak in the knees? It’s…I mean, it can’t possibly be lust. He’s Hal’s father and he’s way older than me. I don’t…I can’t be attracted to a man and even less to
this
man.

“What are you trying to escape?’’ His words are less slurred, his voice more assured. His question makes my heart beat faster, harder in my chest. My breath catches in my throat.

What are you trying to escape?

Is he asking why I’m trying to cut short our time alone together? Why I’m hours away from my family? Why I’m escaping, evading his questions?

I take a deep breath and turn around, walking back to the couch and sitting next to him, careful to keep a reasonable space between us as not to touch. “Lots of things. Life can be a mess and sometimes a clean slate can help.’’

“No, that’s just some bullshit we tell ourselves because we need hope. You can try and go for a clean slate if you want, but the things you’re trying to outrun will catch up to you sooner or later.’’

I want to reach out and turn his face back to me. There’s something in his eyes, in the way his shoulders slouch that makes me think there’s more to it than just mild ill-adjustment after a tour. I purse my lips, fighting the need to ask questions. We don’t know each other and somehow I don’t think we’re on good footing together. What is there, hanging, is the harshness, the rawness of emotions.

“Talking from experience?’’

He nods slowly, his eyes unfocused as he rubs his temples. “And the shit inside doesn’t leave, no matter how fast I ride my bike or how far I go. The sooner you face that fact, the sooner you have a chance of fighting your own demons, Aideen.’’

I shift on the couch, suddenly restless. At this very moment, sitting next to this forlorn man, I feel an understanding. A real understanding, rooted deep inside from where I’m still bleeding constantly. And it scares me.

“I’m not the one drunk here. You’re the one trying to escape what you’re feeling. I left to escape the weight of the memories, but I’m facing head on the consequences of what is missing. Maybe you should take a good look and do something instead of running. Don’t think you don’t have anything to lose.’’

The small muscle in his jaw clenches repeatedly. His eyes flash to me and I lose my breath. “Maybe I’m not as resilient as you are, then,’’ he retorts, his words still slurred, but the anger underneath partially masks it.

I shrug and shake my head as I stand up. I keep my eyes on him. When I’m standing and he’s sitting, his head is at my navel. A thrill runs through me at the thought of this dominant position over such a man when he looks up to lock eyes with me again. “We are all strong and resilient. You just need to want to be.’’

I don’t know Jensen and maybe I’m a bit quick to pass on judgement, but something tells me he needs to be reminded that we all have strength. Sometimes it’s difficult to locate it through the pain and other negative emotions overwhelming us, but it’s there. And while he is obviously coping in a way I’ve never done, I see myself in his eyes. I recognize this sad light in his eyes because I see it every day when I look in a mirror. Maybe it’s this that makes me feel so strongly when around him. Even now when he’s drunk and hiding behind a wall of barely contained hostility as I put my finger on a tender spot I feel my whole body buzzing.

JENSEN

Not going out tonight. Another time. -J

I hit send and throw my phone on the coffee table. Hopefully, Cassie won’t insist. I rub at my eyes and groan when a headache starts pounding at my temple. Fucking alcohol. If only getting shit faced didn’t have any consequences, I’d be even more happy to do it. Now that I’m starting to think more clearly, I just want another drink.

I put a small pillow under my head and settle myself on the couch. Aideen’s words replay in my head, beating the tempo for my headache. The girl is opinionated and while it’s maddening and usually I’d have told her to fuck off in no uncertain terms, this time around I find it both puzzling and captivating. There’s just something, something in the way she speaks, the way she sees me for who I am, instead of just a bachelor who’s not fit to be a father, that catches my attention. And it shouldn’t.

Hal is fucking infatuated with her. I can’t forget that.

But she’s gorgeous and my dick stands at attention whenever she’s around.

“Still alive?’’

I start and shoot upright suddenly. The room spins and I clamp my teeth closed to prevent nausea. I groan and bring a hand to my sweaty forehead. My vision clears up and the first thing I see is Aideen’s extended hand, palm open, with a couple of pills. I let my eyes wander up her bare arm and up to her face. There’s a small smile, stretching her lips upward. I can’t look away from her soft looking lips and their rosy color, so delicate and appetizing.

“Jensen?’’

I shake my head and frown. “Shit.’’ I close my eyes for a second.

“Take these and drink the water.’’

She gives me the pills and the tall glass full of water. I swallow the Advil and force the water down my throat, past the nausea and my dark need for more alcohol. As soon as the glass is empty she takes it from me and turns around for the kitchen, dismissing me without another word. And I watch her walk away, giving myself that little reprieve. After all, nobody has access to my thoughts and that’s good because even with this headache from hell I’m thinking of taking her on any and all surfaces available here. And fuck if it doesn’t sound good.

“Thank you.’’ The words are difficult to leave my mouth, but I can’t keep on being a jerk to her. She’s a nice girl and if she’s going to be with Hal…I need to make an effort and be an adult. And mostly, I need to stop the onslaught of carnal thoughts with her featured as the headliner. “I’m sorry you had to, you know.’’ I wave at myself and slouch further into the couch.

She comes back and leans against the wall, her slender arms crossed over her chest. “Don’t mention it. I know that we all cope differently.’’

I flick my tongue over my dry lips and chuckle without humor. “It’s not coping, it’s called being a coward.’’

“You keep giving me openings to question you, you know.’’

I let my eyes brush over her body. The flare of her hips is, in itself, enough to make me want to worship that tiny scrap of bare skin. But her breasts, a handful, behind her crossed arms aren’t far from my mind either. It makes it all the more difficult to focus. I need some space or else I’m going to make the wrong move and I won’t be able to hide behind the fact I’m drunk because now I’m just hungover, not drunk. Mostly.

“You too. Does that mean you want to talk about what happened to you?’’

From here I can see her stiffen. Her hasty answer isn’t a surprise.

“No. There’s nothing to tell.’’

I nod and cock my head to one side, supporting it against the back of the couch. “You have your answer then.’’

“You’re very different from the man I pictured you to be.’’

I smirk at her, amused. What, so she didn’t think I’d be a fucker with a drinking problem who is obviously very much into casual sex and reckless driving on a classic bike? I arch an eyebrow at her and run a hand along my square jaw. “I hope you find me sexier.’’

***

AIDEEN

I gape at him. Mouth inelegantly open, eyes round like saucers. And as if it wasn’t enough, heat is fast invading my face, probably coloring me a harsh shade of red. I bring both hands to my cheeks and at this point I can’t exactly play it cool or composed.

“Hm… I mean…’’ I stutter lamely and clear my throat. “You look… Hm…’’

“I’m pulling your leg.’’

I giggle nervously and it sounds pretty hysterical. Damn it, kill me now. Please. “I better, uh, go to my room.’’ I gesture to the staircase and force a smile on my still hot face.

“Aideen, calm down. I’m just…’’ He groans and mutters something under his breath as he looks away. “I guess acting like a dick around you is second nature.’’

I deflate and the heat in my face is slowly receding. I’m an idiot for reacting so extremely to his teasing. Yes, I do find him sexy and hot and I wasn’t expecting it when I walked in his house for the first time yesterday, but it’s nothing any other woman would say. Why do I need to react like this? I know I’ve been like a hermit for the past year, but I still have eyes. I didn’t go blind after Yann, but it’s the first time that I… I don’t know, feel a stirring inside me? It sounds ridiculous when put it like that, but it’s pretty much what it feels like.

“I shouldn’t have been all flustered. It’s ridiculous.’’

“We need to adjust,’’ he rasps and discreetly
adjusts
himself. I can’t keep my eyes above belt level and my stomach twists. “I’m not used to living with people and even less with a woman. I’m not sure I’ve fully processed the idea of having a son.’’

I walk to the couch and slowly sit, as far away from him as I can. “I’m not staying for much longer. I have more visits lined up tomorrow. I don’t want you to feel uneasy in your own home.’’

He shakes his head and his fists clench on his lap. His big calloused hands look threatening and yet, another thrill courses through me.

“I’m uneasy everywhere. You being in my house doesn’t change that, but at least it distracts me from my usual mess.’’ He turns to me, his head against the back of the couch again. “And stop telling me you’re not staying. I get your need for independence, but you don’t have to rush anything.’’

I lose myself in his brown soulful eyes, in the curve of his unsmiling lips, in the angle of his jaw and the width of his shoulders. This man is truly confounding. It can be easy to peg him as only a troubled man, but there’s more to him. After all, there’s more to anybody than what meets the eyes.

I lean closer to him, just a tiny bit, and I sigh. Tension deserts me and I let my head fall against the back of the couch, my hair a little wild around me. I breathe in Jensen’s cologne mixed with the alcohol he drank earlier today and that little something that’s all male and dark. “Who are you really?’’ I whisper.

His pink tongue traces his lips again, quickly and I don’t miss even a nano second of it. “Don’t look at me like that.’’

I glance back up and his eyes are even darker now. Intense. “Like what?’’

“Fuck. Don’t play that game.’’

I’m about to tell him I’m not playing when his face gets close to mine, so very close that I can count his thick lashes. And I can’t talk. I’m mute. I drop my gaze to his parted lips and I bite on mine, my teeth only adding to the mess inside me, enhancing things I don’t want to face, things I shouldn’t be feeling and even less while looking at this older man, the father of my best friend.

Then, his hooded eyelids close and I jump back, as if electrocuted back into action. I gasp and he leans back, away from me, almost as if he’s trying to mold himself with the couch itself. We stare at each other and I can’t take it any more. I jump to my feet and hightail it to my room, ignoring him when he calls my name in his raspy voice, huskier than usual. But it’s harder to ignore the fast rhythm of my heart in my chest and the shivers running through my body.

***

JENSEN

“Fuck me.’’

I punch the pillow next to my hip and bite back the growl forming deep in my chest. I need to hit something harder that offers more resistance if I want to get this out. This…This fucking lust for the very wrong person. A person I made run out of here with my not so smooth move. She must think I’m a sick bastard, hitting on a young woman like that. She’s sixteen years younger than me for Pete’s sake.

I push on my legs and stand up, swaying a second or two until the room stops swirling and making me want to hurl all over again. I run a hand on my face, still sweaty, and I take a few steps toward the kitchen, ready to grab the cheap tequila in one of the cupboards and drink enough to push me into a deep sleep that would be akin to a coma. I just need to fucking stop feeling, thinking and I must put an end to this hard-on that never goes away.

My fingers grip the bottle neck, the cold glass raising goosebumps on my almost feverish skin, and I straighten up with my prize in hand, heavily leaning on the counter in the small kitchen. It shouldn’t take much to take me out.