Come Undone (26 page)

“Oh,
that’s not necessary, I can sleep in this,” I said, but he was already out the
door.

I
found my way to the bathroom to freshen up. After splashing my face with warm
water, I examined the damage. He was right, the cut was minimal, and most of
the blood had washed away. But I could already see the beginnings a bruise
forming around it. I quickly tugged my fingers through my hair, carefully
avoiding the tender bump on the back of my head. I smudged some dirt from my
collarbone, but there was nothing I could do about the shadows under my eyes. I
looked more suitable for a night at the trailer park than as a guest in David’s
pristine home. He appeared in the doorway of the bathroom and appraised my
reflection.

“I’m
a mess,” I said with a pout.

“Yes,”
he agreed, and I stuck my bottom lip out further. “Somehow you still look
exquisite.” It was my turn to roll my eyes. “This is all I have,” he said,
handing me a folded t-shirt and boxers. “They might be a little big,” he said,
stifling a laugh, “but it’s better than nothing.”

I
raised my eyebrow at him, and it was his turn to blush. “Well, not - it’s not
better . . . Never mind.”

I
thanked him and took the clothing. “Can I have some more water?” I asked.

“Sure.”

Soreness
descended, and I moved slowly as I changed. I furtively whiffed the shirt,
which smelled of fresh laundry and David. When I came out, he was setting a
glass of water on the nightstand.

“How’s
this for exquisite?” I joked.

“Why
do you keep doing that? Rolling your eyes?” he asked.

“Because it’s ridiculous. Although I don’t doubt
that some girls buy into it.”

“You do look exquisite.” I looked down at myself
and burst into laughter.

He
tilted his head and smiled dangerously, in such a way that would get even the
Virgin Mary into trouble. My laugh vanished as he looked me up and down with
bloodthirsty eyes, like he might leap across the room and devour me. I chewed
my bottom lip as my insides flurried. Standing there in a huge t-shirt and
shorts rolled three times, I felt less than desirable. But under his perusal,
my body’s reaction was beyond my control.

“One
day I will tell you exactly how exquisite you look right now,” he promised.

I
clenched my jaw to abate my physical reaction. His eyes lingered too long, and
that empty heaviness returned between my thighs. “Well,” he said, clearing his
throat. “You’re all set. I’ll be back to check on you in a few hours – I’ll
have to wake you,” he warned.

I
nodded. “That’s why I’m here, right?” I said, shrugging. A roguish grin was his
only response. I climbed into the bed and got under the covers.

“Goodnight,”
he said, reaching for the lights.

“David,”
I said suddenly, sitting up.

“Hmm?”

I
swallowed hard. “Did anything happen between you and Gretchen?”

“What
do you mean?”

“At
the MCA event. D-did something happen?”

I
jumped at his burst of robust laughter. When he saw that I wasn’t laughing, he
stopped and his face fell. “Seriously?”

I
nodded earnestly.

He
stalked slowly to the bed and bent so we were face to face. My mouth fell
slightly, and I snapped it shut.

“She’s
not really my type,” he said, his voice low and sensual. “For one, I prefer
brunettes. Brunettes with big, green eyes and,” he stopped, seeming to have
lost his train of thought. He reached up and picked something from my cheek.
“And very long lashes,” he said, holding one on the tip of his finger.

I
was now breathing through my nose to prevent any incidence of panting. For a
moment, I saw myself through his eyes.

“Besides,”
he said, straightening up and flicking it off. “She’s not tough enough for me.”
He winked. With that, he strode away, shut off the lights, and pulled the door
closed behind him.

My
heart thumped in his wake, his touch lingering on my skin. I fell back into the
plush bed. He didn’t want Gretchen. The mixture of his touch, his smell, his
words intoxicated me. It took everything I had not to drown in the thought of
him, not to touch my throbbing self through his clothing. I forced myself to
concentrate on the night’s events; so much had happened.

I
wondered if Mark’s threats were legitimate or if he’d been bluffing. Would he
really be out right away? How was it that David had appeared in that moment?
What would have happened if he hadn’t? I curled up into a ball while this last
question hung in my head.

~

“Olivia.”

I
moaned in response. It was quiet for a moment and I shifted, my eyes opening to
darkness.

“Hey,”
David whispered.

“Hi,”
I whispered back, rubbing my eyes sleepily, struggling to see in the night.

“Do
you know where you are?” he asked.

I
was quiet for a minute. “Yes,” I said. “On the moon.”

I
saw his outline, which was becoming clearer, stiffen. I laughed softly. “Don’t
worry David, I’m fine.”

“Oh,”
he said. “All right, just checking.”

“Stay,”
I said before I could stop myself. I curled up into a smaller ball.

He
hesitated a moment before the door closed, and I heard his bare feet cross the
room. The bed dipped and after another pause, he climbed all the way on. He
settled against the pillows as far away as he could get, and I wondered if it
was respectfulness or if, at the stroke of midnight, our new arrangement had
gone into effect. But either way, he was there, and it was dark, and somehow,
none of that mattered.

“Do
you normally work so late?” he asked after some time.

“No.
I fell asleep at the office,” I said. “I can’t believe that I saw you. Well,
that you saw me, I guess.”

“You
mean, almost ran you down.”

“Right.
Where were you going?”

“I
was also working late, except that I was actually doing work. Your office is on
my way home,” he stated simply.

“Sort
of,” I mused, going over the possible routes in my head.

“No,
it is,” he said. “Where were you going? Don’t you live in the opposite
direction?”

I
turned to face him now, even though I couldn’t see him in the dark. “I don’t
know. At first I was running to the ‘L’ and then I just turned.” I was quiet
for a moment, reliving the moments before he had caught me. “Hm.”

“What?”

“I
was trying to get to . . . Jackson? I think, yes . . . I was,” I paused, going
through the route,
I took a right turn
and
. . .
. “I was trying to get
to
you
.” The admission surprised me.
I hadn’t realized it until now. I knew that David’s office was on Jackson. And
I didn’t feel embarrassed by it, although I knew I should. “It doesn’t make any
sense,” I said to myself. “What would make me think you’d be there at that
time? Or that you’d care after this afternoon?” Again, I tried working it out
in my head. A beat passed. And then another before I noticed his silence. “You
think I’m a stalker, don’t you?”

“No,”
I could hear a smile in the word. “I’m thinking.”

“What
about?”

“Everything.”

I
understood. It was almost kismet, if I believed in that sort of thing.

“I
just can’t stop thinking about what would have happened if - ”

“Don’t,”
I stopped him. “There’s no point.”

“You
just said you weren’t sure if I would care. Do you really think that? Of course
I care. I would do whatever it takes - but instead I left you alone with him .
. . It wouldn’t have gotten so far if . . .” Something – guilt, maybe,
crept into his voice.

“Stop,”
I said, covering my ears. I felt an overwhelming need to protect us both. “He
wasn’t going to hurt me, he just,” I paused. “Just wanted to scare me a
little,” I lied. I heard his breathing quicken and continued before he could
interject. “I can’t do this right now. How - how do you know . . . ,” I racked
my still-groggy memory. “Cooper?”

“An
old friend.”

“A
good friend to have,” I said.

“Indeed.
He’ll take care of this for us.”

“Do
you think that guy, Mark, really has connections on the force?” I asked.

“No,
he was bluffing. Cooper said they were just waiting for him to break parole.” I
wanted to ask him about what he’d said earlier. About whether or not he was
finished with me. But I didn’t know how I could stand his answer either way, so
I didn’t. I sighed sleepily and shut my eyes again. Neither of us spoke for
some time, and I drifted.

~

When I
opened my eyes, the room was grey. David, still facing me from across the bed,
slept peacefully atop the comforter in a white t-shirt and heather grey
sweatpants. His hair was tousled, and he almost looked relaxed, except that his
arms were crossed over his chest. He was so far away that he was almost falling
off the bed. I wondered what it would be like to reach out and touch him, to
pull him close and snuggle into his chest. Something welled in me that was less
urgent than before, but was deeper. I couldn’t help myself from thinking of
what he might do to me were the circumstances different. That he might lean
over and finish the kiss he’d started in my office, this time letting his hands
wander over the thin t-shirt. That he might reach between my thighs and feel my
want, my need . . . . My breathing quickened.

Just
then he shifted and opened his eyes so that we were looking at each other.

“Do
you know where you are?” I joked.

He
smiled. “How do you feel?”

“Good,”
I said and meant it. “I slept better than I have in a long time.”

He
nodded and stretched his long limbs before leaning over me to see the clock.

“What
time is it?”

“Six
thirty-five.”

“Mmm,
I have to go,” I said, not moving.

“Call
in sick. You can stay here today if you want.”

“I
don’t think that’s such a good idea. Anyway, the party is tonight.” I grimaced
as I sat up gingerly, feeling tender as though it were the morning after a good
workout. I looked around the room, trying to locate my clothes. He inhaled
sharply, and I caught his cringe.

“What?”

“You’re
all black-and-blue,” he said, sitting up next to me. He scooted closer and
studied my cheek, taking my chin in his hand again.
Is it awful to admit that I’m starting to enjoy this?
“The cut
looks all right but your cheek is pretty badly bruised.” He shook his head.
“Poor girl,” he said as he swept the hair from my face. For a moment, we looked
at each other, his hand lingering by my face, and I imagined that I didn’t have
to leave. The memory of our kiss swept over me again, more vivid with his
vicinity, and I felt my lips purse slightly in response. I pushed the dangerous
thought from my mind but a sound escaped my lips first.

“Right,”
he said, lifting himself off the bed.

“Can
I get ready here? It would save me a trip.”

“Of
course,” he agreed happily. He seemed more than happy to provide me with
anything I needed.
Lucky, the girl who
ends up with him
, I thought.

I
pulled the covers off and climbed out of bed to find myself floating in his
long t-shirt that just met the tops of my thighs.

“Shit,”
I said, embarrassed and covering myself. Since I was used to sleeping almost
nude, I must have kicked off the oversized shorts in the night.

“Jesus,
Olivia,” he said raking his eyes over me. “I’m trying to behave, but you’re
killing me here.” We laughed together, and he turned to leave the room,
shielding his eyes. “Your clothes are around here somewhere. Get dressed, you
goddamned temptress.” I giggled as he shut the door behind him.

After
a quick rinse, I changed into the previous day’s outfit. I was grateful to find
a few make-up essentials in my purse and attempted to make myself presentable.
As I never left the house without my travel hairbrush, I was able to twist my
hair into an acceptable bun. I lingered over the bruise, dabbing the area with
foundation in hopes of concealing it, but eventually gave up to meet him in the
kitchen. He still wore a faded marathon t-shirt and the grey sweatpants that
hung dangerously low, allowing me a glimpse of skin as he pulled two glasses
from the cupboard.

“You
have a beautiful place,” I said, looking around for the last time.

“Can
I get you anything to eat? Or some OJ?” he asked.

“No,
I’ve really got to get going,” I sighed.

“You
should eat. I’m not a great cook but I can whip something up.”

I
shook my head and we stared at each other stubbornly. Not wanting to be rude, I
relented when I spotted a bowl of fresh fruit behind him. “How about a banana?”

He
swung around and grabbed one, offering it to me. “What else?”