Chapter Nineteen

Eva

“I love you sooooooooo much!” Nina declares for the hundredth time.

       “I love you too, doll.” I give her side a tight squeeze as I carefully walk us up the stairs to her apartment. Lisa invited (mandated) us out for an impromptu margarita night and shit spun out of hand pretty quickly for my girls. 

My day was a long and shitty one. Kicking off with a grueling morning with McMillan and his increasingly attentive gaze, then continuing with spilled-department-tea that has left me feeling stained beyond repair. The margaritas were supposed to help me decompress. 

Now here I am, dragging my friend up the steps at nine pm on a weeknight. All I want is to fall face first on my bed and have a good cry.

When we reach her door, Nina shakes her head so hard her ponytail comes loose. “Take me alltheway up. I want Luke!”

        “He’s still at the bar.” 

        “Don’t care!” She spins on her heel and stumbles towards the stairs. “Take me up.”

        I sigh and send Luke a quick text, letting him know that a hammered Nina will be waiting for him when he gets off work. “Okay, pretty girl. Let’s go.”

        She giggles and leans on me. “I had so much fun tonight.” She really did. Lisa wasn’t in much better shape either when I sent her home with Nick, after calling him to come rescue me. 

        “Me too.”

        “No really! I love Lisa! She’s so cooooool!” She stops at my landing and plops down on the step. “And I love you! So, sooooo much.”

        One hundred and one.

        “I love you too,” I smile, sinking down beside her.  I truly mean it. Drunk or sober, Nina Walsh is forever my favorite person on this planet.

        She drops her head on my shoulder. “So you think she likesss me? Girls usually don’t like me.” She wraps her arms around me for a tight hug. “But you do! You love me, and that’ssss all I need.”

        “What do you mean? You’re the best.”

         She huffs and hiccups. “Apparently,  I’m too aggressive or whatever.” She says miming sloppy air quotes. “Girls don’t like me.”

         I’m momentarily catapulted to the night Jamie made me grilled cheese. “I think you saved her as much as she did you…” 

Shit, no wonder she was willing to roll with all my Eva-ness when I first got here. A flare of anger that someone as wonderful as my Nina would ever have to spend a second feeling less than in the presence of other girls makes me want to do violence. 

        “Well I love you.”  I pinch her arm lightly to punctuate my point. “Lisa obviously likes you too. And we’re the coolest bitches around, so fuck everyone else.”        

She plants a loud wet kiss on my cheek, holding my head firmly to her face. “You’re my best friend.” She’s still pressing my head against her face as she continues, speaking vehemently into my cheek, “You’re kind, and  beautiful. And when you dance, you look like a fairy princess or some shit and it’s great and I love you!”

        I hug her tight. “You’re my best friend too.” I stand and pull her up. “Come on bestie, let’s get you to bed.”

       We climb the last flight of stairs, bumping the wall a few times as Nina sways and giggles. We reach our destination and I give a brisk knock. 

        Please, please, please, I chant silently. Please don’t be home yet...

       The door swings open revealing a confused and shirtless Jamie. His nipple rings shine against the hallway light; mocking the shit out of me with the things I want to do to them as he stands there, glaring at us with standard annoyance.

My heart sinks at the delicious sight of him.

        No such luck.

I really don’t have it in me to dance with him and his mood swings tonight.

        “Put a shirt on asshole!” Nina barks then dissolves into a fit of cackles as she goes practically dead weight against me. “And quit being such a dense fuck! I’m sooooo over you jerking my girl around!”

         His sea blues narrow and cut to me for an explanation and I attempt to shrug under her weight. “After class margaritas got a little out of hand. She wants Luke.”

         “He’s still—"

         “At work. I texted him. Just move so I can put this girl to bed,” I wheeze as she slowly crushes me. How can someone so small be so heavy?

         With a put-out eye roll, he reaches out to take my load, but she slaps his hand away. 

         “No! I want Evezzz!” She shouts and leans against me some more. 

         I shoot Jamie my most apologetic frown, then push past him and shuffle her into the apartment. After a long and arduous pit stop to the bathroom followed by another bout of I love yous, I finally get her settled into Luke’s bed with some water and aspirin. I turn his light down and I can already hear her snoring soundly before I get the door closed. 

Now how to I get the hell out of this apartment conversation-free?

        I rest my head against the door and close my eyes, bracing myself for what comes next.

        I don’t want to go back out to the living room and face him. 

        “You good?” 

         I open my eyes.

Jamie standing at the end of the hall. His hands are dipped into his pockets and his mouth is set into an unwelcoming line, but it’s his eyes that are too much for me to take right now.

        They’re completely empty.

Always empty.

        “Yeah. I’m just tired,” I smile a little despite myself. I can never quite help it when I see him. Who knew I could be so happy and lonely at the same time, but here we are.

        “Thanks for letting me settle Neen in. Lord knows what kind of hell she’d raise if I made her sleep at her place.” I push off the door and dip down to pick up my bag. “Well, have a good night.”

        “You’re leaving?” 

         There it is. The crazy dichotomy that has become our daily dance. 

He stands out of reach looking fucking miserable to be in my presence but pouts like a child at just the thought of me leaving. If I stay, I already know how it will go:

         He’ll continue to act just like this.

         I’ll either happen to make him laugh or I’ll start to look sad.

         He’ll sigh or roll his eyes or use some other exasperated gesture and pull me in for a hug.

         And then a hug will turn into fucking.

         Maybe it’ll be tender, maybe it won’t. But it’ll be hot enough to trick me into playing along tomorrow.

         “Yeah.” I rest my hand on my forehead for a moment before dragging it down my face and screwing my eyes closed, steeling myself the best I can against his question. 

         No matter how much I may want to...I can’t play along anymore. 

        “I’m beat and today was really rough.” I continue on towards their front door. It’d be quicker to cut through Jamie’s room, but I’m not a fucking idiot.

         “How rough?”

         “Oh, you know,” I pause with my hand on the knob. I don’t turn around as I shakily answer. “Bad enough that I don’t have it in me to fight you tonight.”

         “The hell is that supposed to mean?”

         Unable to resist any longer I peek over my shoulder and drink up the sight of him standing there, stalling to get me to stay but refusing, as always, to ask. 

         He can never just ask.

         “You know exactly what I mean.” I say quietly and watch as his eyes flicker with understanding. Just a fleeting flash of what he’s feeling before they drain again. 

         I smile a sad small smile that feels reminiscent of when we first met. I never could help smiling around him. “Night, Jamie.”

         I pull the door open and shut it softly behind me. Breathing a bit easier now that I’m out of his space. I drag my heavy body down the stairs and get myself into my apartment. 

         Once inside, I throw my shit on the floor before taking a long hot shower to rinse this morning off and get myself snuggled into bed. In the silence of my room I allow the tears to fall. 

        For the romance that’ll never be.

         But most of all for the beautiful and broken boy upstairs who can’t bring himself out of whatever hell he’s in and just be with me.

        I wish Miss Ally was here. I just need a fucking hug from some who loves me. Who understands how much I love ballet. Who understands how goddamn lonely I am.

        I’m finally beginning to drift when I hear a soft knock on my window. Jamie climbs in and walks slowly towards my bed taking a seat at the edge.

       “Hey. What’s up?” I ask, raising up on my elbows, concerned that something happened to Nina.

       “You’ve been crying.”

        I want to deny it, but I can feel that my eyes are swollen, and I know how blotchy my face gets when I cry. “Just a shitty day. I’m alright.”

         He brushes a lock of hair off my face. His face etched in worry. “You want to talk about it?” 

         I shake my head.

        After a moment he kicks his shoes off and lays down, wrapping his arms tight around my middle and pulling me against his chest. We lay in silence for several minutes before he surprises me and speaks. 

        “Look, I know I’m a cold asshole.” He says into my hair as he runs his calloused palm along my arm. “You always take my shit in stride though. So if your day was bad enough that you can’t deal with it, then tell me how to help.” 

        His words make me warm all over. 

        He kisses my temple. “Tell me how to make it better.” He whispers. “You don’t have to fight me tonight.”

        Just tonight though… the words hang in the air between us. Unsaid, but true nonetheless.

        I burrow in as close as possible, trying to rid myself of all the self doubt and disappointment, to just enjoy this moment. 

        “Tell me how to make it better.”

        “Sing to me?” I ask.

         It’s quiet for a few seconds. But then his soft baritone fills the space between us with my beloved quiet French lyrics

        Tears burn the back of my eyes, as I lay in the dark listening to Jamie sing me La Vie En Rose. Like he instinctively I knew I needed to hear it. He sings it over and over until I finally fall asleep.

*******

Eva

  It’s still dark when a loud bang from the other room has me jackknifing off the bed straight from a deep unblemished sleep. With my heart beating out of my chest and only one eye open because the left one is still too heavy to cooperate with the right, I stagger into the bright kitchen squinting to see through the god awful light.

        It takes two seconds and a whole lot of effort to determine the source of the racket. Jamie is on the floor cursing and grumbling under his breath as he ducks beneath my sink with a wrench. I take a brief and bitterly exhausted look around seeing he has a bunch of tools scattered on the floor by him. The clock above the oven reads three-thirty in the morning.

        I will kill him.

        “Listen, asshole,” I rasp through my exhaustion. “If you’re going to be so damn loud the least you can do is make me coffee.” 

        He starts at my voice and bumps his head on my cabinet letting out a string of curses. I enjoy the show on a deep level, both for the fact that he is the one startled for once and that he’s now in physical pain after waking me. 

        “I got you one down the street,” he says on a wince lifting a to-go cup peace offering. From my favorite late night coffee shop.

        Yes, I have a favorite and no, I can’t be bought so easily.

        “Did you let them put a bunch of bullshit in it like last time?” I stare down the cup like it offends me. If it’s pumped full of flavored cream and sugar I’m going to dump it all over this stupid insomniac’s head.

        “I specifically asked for black and then I threatened them just to be safe.” He says wryly. “There’s probably spit in it but nothing else.

        “I’ll take spit over sugar,” I pluck the cup from his hand and take a long deep pull from it. I instantly feel better. Just having the taste is enough to wake me up a bit. But not quite enough that he is off my shit list yet. “What the hell is wrong with you? Don’t you ever fucking sleep?” 

        “Jesus, you sound like me when you’re cranky.” He muses returning to the task he was never asked to do.

        Not an answer. 

        “That’s because you’re a cranky little bitch all the time.” Okay, girl. Reel it in.

        I take another series of gulps from my cup and ease on a stool by the counter. He laughs, clearly amused by my attitude. He shouldn’t be. I’ll throw one of those tools right at his head and not feel an ounce of remorse. 

        Stupid, loud, never sleeping, subpar coffee bitch deserves it.

        “Your sink has been leaking forever and it’s driving me crazy.” He explains like it’s totally normal thing to be reworking my plumbing in the middle of the night. “I figured while I’m here I could take care of it.”

        “And how’s that going for you Handy Harry?”

        He pops his head up and smirks. “Finish your coffee you brat, so you can thank me properly for fixing your kitchen.”

        “How about you fuck off instead and I go back to sleep?”

        He emerges from under my sink again, but this time, he’s sporting a wicked glint in his eyes and the charming smile I’ve seen before but never directed at me. He stands and leans on the counter. “God damn, you’re sexy when you’re mean.”

        Either my coffee kicked in early, or he just managed to override my caffeine starved tantrum because I’m suddenly hot and very awake. Before I can entirely process what’s happening Jamie has rounded the counter, lifted me from the stool and set me atop the cool stone. He tugs my messy bun back, dipping his head down and bites my throat. I push into him loving the way his teeth scrape against my skin.

        “Shake for me baby.”

        “Nah, you’ll have to earn it first.”

        He nips my ear and I stifle the euphoric shudder that’s begging to run through me. 

        “No, no...that’s not what I meant....” I sigh. 

        He chuckles in my ear sending goosebumps across my skin as his warm breath skates down my throat.

        “You want more coffee, don’t you.”

        “That’s right bitch,” my arms slide up his back, “talk dirty to me.”

         He rewards my snark with a deep throaty laugh that never fails to make me feel invincible.

         “You’re so fucking weird,” he says and kisses me hard before stepping back and heading towards the coffee maker. “Are you feeling any better?” He asks, as he scoops the coffee grounds into the filter.

         Just like that, all of the heat coursing through my body chills to ice and the pit of my stomach tangles into knots. “Yes?”

         He slows his work of making my coffee and turns to me with his eyebrows raised in warning. “Don’t lie to me.”

         “I wasn’t?”

         “The question mark on the end of your statement says otherwise.”

         I slide back onto a stool, placing a hand on my forehead as I lean on the counter. I so, don’t want to go into yesterday with him. “I’m okay really—“

        “The hand on your forehead isn’t doing you any favors here either.”

        “What are you talking about?” I ask perplexed as I feel my brows knit together under my palm.

        “Your hand on your forehead,” he explains, setting the coffee to brew then slowly walking towards me. “You put it there, when you’re overwhelmed and trying to calm yourself down.” He reaches out and pulls my hand away, placing me back up on the counter and resting his own forehead against mine.

         “When you’re just plain nervous you’ll wipe your hand across it all fast and shit, but when you’re genuinely upset...” he lifts his lips and drops a soft kiss right between my eyes. “You leave it there.”

         “I don’t want to talk about it,” I whisper. If I tell him the story about Arabian and the strings possibly attached to the role, not to mention the likely fall out if there are indeed strings when I don’t play along… it will suddenly be real. Not gossip, or speculation, and I’m not ready to face the consequences like they’re reality quite yet.  I don’t really know why and I don’t have the energy to figure it out. I’d rather just wait for that fight to come to me.

        “Okay,” he whispers back brushing a lock of hair behind my ear with a tender smile that shows his dimples and squeezes my heart.

        I gaze at him, as he strokes my hair and smiles; comforting me for the second time tonight. This guy right here is who I live for. This is the man I had for a few precious short weeks, I’ve only caught sporadic glimpses of him since our happy smoke break during that shift weeks ago. I miss him so much and he’s holding me right now. I can’t keep playing tag with him because I want it all.

        I blurt what’s in my heart. “I want this.” 

        His eyes flicker like they’re about to shutter but I reach up holding his face in my hands before I lose him. 

        “Please, stop shutting me out,” I beg thickly. “Please... just...” I try to swallow the lump in my throat. He has no idea how hard it is for me to ask. “Just keep me?”

        He sighs cupping my face in his hand, “I’m not shutting you out because it’s what I want. You’re the best thing in my life and you deserve more than me.” He drops his forehead down to mine, his own voice thicker than normal. “I’m trying to do right by you”

        “By yanking me around?” I snort. I slide my hands behind his neck and pull him against me, seeking as much contact as I can possibly get.

        “Yeah, I’m not very good at it,” he snorts back.

        “Then keep me.”

        “And when I fuck it all up, Doe Eyes? Then what?”

        I lean back a bit and look into his tortured eyes; swirling with conflict. With trembling fingers, I return my hands to his face and hold him, “If you fuck it all up, then you get to say “I told you so.””

        “I told you so.”

        “Oh no you don’t,” I run my finger tip down the spot on his cheek that shows his dimple. “You didn’t mess anything up yet.” I capture his mouth with mine and kiss him. “Please. Keep me or cut me loose.” I breath against his lips.

        “Cutting you loose isn’t a fucking option,” he growls, pulling at my hips before his hands creep up my shirt. “You’re going to regret this.”

        “Maybe I will. Maybe I won’t; either way you’re wor-orth the risk.” I stutter on a gasp. Finally surrendering the tremor I’ve been trying my best to suppress. I quake against his calloused fingertips as he swipes his thumbs across my tattoos. He dives in, kissing my lips like I’m water and he’s dying of thirst, taking my breath away. 

        “I’m really not,” He yanks my shirt up over my head. Then pushes me back onto the counter. The shock from the cold stone on my bare back makes me jerk. “I’m not worth shit. But if you really want me then fine.”

        Jesus, I hope he didn’t hurt himself just now. Those were almost the most romantic words ever uttered. 

        He pulls my pajama pants down my legs dragging his fingers along my thighs. I’m naked and shivering against my counter as he takes a moment to gaze down at me with hunger, possession, and a shadow of something powerful. He stands there, eating me with his eyes and running a knuckle over the blindfolded woman on my ribs.

        “You’re mine now, Doe Eyes.”

“Good.” I reach for him, desperate to have his skin under my fingertips. “Now show me.”