Everything Between Us (22 page)

My world is spinning when he breaks our kiss and presses his forehead to mine. “This is up to you,” he says between breaths, his eyes closed. “I can’t make you want me, and I can’t make you want to get better. But if you did want those things, I’m here. It has to be both, though.”

I look up at him. “What do you mean?”

He lets me go and steps back. “You’re too good to let this beat you, Stella. And I can’t sit by and watch your world get smaller. I care about you too much.”

I wipe my bruised lips with the back of my hand, confusion tossing all of my thoughts, sending them bouncing around my brain. “So we’re back to ‘just get over it’? I thought we’d already established that I can’t!”

“That’s not what I’m saying—”

“God! Why, Daniel? Why did you kiss me? Are you trying to make this harder? I went out last night for you, yes, but you saw what happened. And now you’re saying I can’t be with you unless I get over this.” My arms flap uselessly at my sides, frustration roaring through me. “Leave, then. Because I can’t get over it. Don’t you think I would have, if I could?”

“That’s exactly what he thinks,” says a voice from the hallway. Romy walks into the room, looking back and forth between me and Daniel. He gives her a nervous glance as she sits on the arm of the chaise. “He knows you’re already doing everything you know to do.”

I let out a breath. “Then why didn’t you say that?” I ask him.

His lip curls with exasperation. “I was trying, but you were too busy busting my balls to listen.”

“Did you know there are treatments for what you have?” asks Romy. “Really good ones.”

“I’m not going to take drugs.” I say this to Daniel, because surely he’s seen the pharmacy inside my mom’s medicine cabinet? “I don’t even want to start down that road. My mom offered to take me to her psychiatrist, but—”

“Drugs sometimes keep this particular therapy from working as well.” Romy is so matter-of-fact, just like she was last night. It’s both reassuring and intimidating. “They might help you feel better in the moment, but they can keep you from doing what you need to do.”

“And what do I need to do?” I can’t help the edge in my voice. I’m so tired of people telling me how to get better.

Romy tilts her head. “I think that’s a discussion best had with a therapist. But I will tell you this, Stella. Two to three months. You could be better. No drugs if you don’t want them.”

I squint at her. “How do you know?”

She shrugs. “I have some really good professors, and a really good therapist.”

Hope sparks inside me. “You—you have this, too? You get panic attacks?”

“No, but I’ve had other issues.” She gets up and walks toward me, past Daniel, who moves aside for her. “And I know I’m worth helping.” She touches my arm. “I don’t know you, Stella. I don’t know what you think of yourself, or how brave or cowardly you think you are. But I know Daniel, and I know you’re special to him. So I think you’re worth helping. You have to want it, though, because it takes work.”

“Of course I want it,” I whisper. “I’d change if I could. But I can’t.”

“I’m not going to argue with you,” she says gently. “I know you’re saying that because you’ve tried really hard, and you’ve felt defeated every time, and that’s exhausting.”

Tears start in my eyes before I can stop them. “That’s exactly what it is. I’m so tired.”

Her fingers tighten on my arm. “I know. And it’s not fair. You shouldn’t have to suffer like this. I saw how much it hurt you last night. I saw how much you wanted it to be different.”

“I just wanted to be there like a normal person,” I rasp, sniffling. “I just wanted to …” I glance at Daniel and look away quickly.

“I know you did. You should get to have that. And you can, Stella. If you do this kind of therapy, if you
really
do it, it will help. You’ll be able to do the things you want, and you’ll be in control of it.”

“How can you say that?”

She smiles. “I’d be a pretty lousy therapist if I didn’t believe therapy helped.” She squeezes my arm and leans in, getting on her tiptoes. “And it would be worth it,” she whispers, very quietly. “Daniel is worth it.”

“I know,” I say automatically. That isn’t a question. It hasn’t been for a while. But is she right? Two or three months? That’s all it takes? It sounds way too easy, like a trick.

My mom’s high, ringing laughter floats through the house, coming from the library. Romy looks toward the hallway. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I need to save my boyfriend from your mom.”

I snort. “No, I think that’s a good idea.”

She pulls a card from her pocket and hands it to me. “That’s my therapist. Her name is Heather. She’s really nice.” She turns on her heel and walks out of the room.

I blink after her. “What just happened?”

Daniel chuckles. “
She’s
the one I was talking to, not your mom.” He joins me by the table and brushes a tear from my cheek. I swipe at the rest impatiently. I’m tired of panic, tired of crying, tired of trying to live in my own skin.

“Come here,” he says in my ear, all the edge gone.

He gathers me into his arms, and I tuck my face into his neck and close my eyes. We fit perfectly together, and I relax into him. “I’m sorry for what I said,” I say quietly. “You were amazing last night, and I feel so bad that I ruined it for you.”

He rubs my back. “Are you joking? You made my night. I was missing you so badly, and then there you were. I kept imagining what you’d say if you were standing there next to me.”

I wrap my arms around his waist. “Really? What did you imagine?”

His chest trembles. “That you would tell me they were marbles and nothing more.”

“Were they meant to be something else? Did they have deeper meaning?”

He lets out a huff of laughter. “No. They just made me happy.”

“Isn’t that enough?”

His arms tighten around me. “I’m starting to wonder if it is.” I raise my head and his lips brush mine.
I want to make you happy
, I think. I glance at the therapist’s card on the table and then back at Daniel, his blue eyes bright and focused on me. Could I reach for this? Should I give it another try? If it meant I could have him, and be good for him, and belong in his world, would it be worth the chance that I’d crash and burn?

As we stand there, together, his body against mine, his heart beating against my chest, I know the answer.
Yes.

Chapter Nineteen: Daniel

Liza follows me to my car as I leave. Romy and Caleb left a half an hour ago, but by that time Stella and I were sketching away in the enclosed porch, looking like we’d never been doing anything else. Mostly. Stella’s lips were swollen and lush from my kisses, but I don’t think Liza notices much about her daughter. She probably wouldn’t be keen on me spending so much time with Stella if she did.

I figured I’d given myself a soft exit after my antics last night, but as Liza puts her hands on my waist, I realize she’s not done with me. “Hey,” I say, turning around with my keys in my hand. “What’s up?”

“I think you have some apologizing to do,” Liza says, all pouty. Oh no.

My gaze flicks toward the windows of the mansion. I don’t want Stella to see this. I hate that she’s seen me and Liza together, that she has to think about it, and I don’t want her to doubt me now. But I have to do this carefully. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to drink that much.”

“I think you need to apologize on your
knees
,” she adds, grinding herself against me. “Can you come back tonight?”

“I wish I could.” I can’t piss Liza off in a way that bruises her ego, because it’s going to make things so much harder. If Liza won’t let me come over, I’ll never see Stella. That’s how it’s going to be until Stella gets better—if she decides it’s something she wants—so I have to stay in Liza’s good graces … while getting her to let me go. “My—my dad needs me, Liza. I have to be with him.”

“All night?” Liza snaps.

“My mom’s in the hospital. It’s been rough.” It’s not hard to look upset about it, because this part’s not an act.

“How long will she be in there? Isn’t she coming home soon?”

I grind my teeth. “I hope so. The doctors are saying maybe Tuesday, if she keeps improving.”

“Tuesday?” She sighs. I can tell by the clutch of her hands and the movement of her hips that Tuesday feels like years to her.

“I’ll let you know. I’m sorry. I wish I could be here.” That’s not a lie, but it has nothing to do with Liza.

She nods. “If things get better, let me know. I miss being with you.”

She misses fucking me, which is not quite the same thing as being
with
me. I take her in my arms. Time to turn this around on her. “Think of how it was for me, when you were gone all last week.”

“I didn’t realize … I’m sorry, Daniel. I was having a hard time.”

“It’s okay,” I say, patting her hair. “I survived.” If you call falling blazingly, painfully hard for Stella surviving.

“We’ll make time next week then,” she says quickly. “I promise. And we’ll have to finalize the number of paintings for the entertainment suite. I’m thinking three?”

I nod. “That sounds great. Whatever you want.” I’ve noticed this about Liza. When she feels guilty about something, she throws money at it.

She gives me a quick kiss that would have included tongue if I didn’t turn away to fake-sneeze. “Bless you,” she says, her disappointment obvious. “And I hope your mother gets better.”

“Me, too. Oh, and how about I come back on Monday? We could talk about the paintings, and I could do another make-up session with Stella. I missed four of her lessons last week.”

“Of course. Is she giving you a hard time? She’s still being such a drama queen.”

I smile, though I want to shove her away from me. I can’t believe she’d talk about her own daughter that way. “Nah. Stella’s a quick study and a good student.” I flash her a friendly smile and get into my car before she can feel me up.

I drive to the co-op and march up to the studios, ready to put the next phase of my plan into action. When I reach the top of the stairs, I hear a sound that makes me grin—the hissing roar of a welding torch.

“Markus!” I yell, my voice like a gunshot. Sasha, who’s standing at the kiln, gives me a startled look.

Markus leans out of his studio with his face shield still on, peering at me through the clear plastic. When he sees me coming toward him with my fists clenched, he sets his torch down and flips the shield up. “What’s up?”

I shove him. “Guess how I spent last night?”

“Puking up red wine?” he says with a smirk.

“Nah, man. Picking Stella Bierens up off a bathroom floor. Holding her while she fell apart. Do you have any idea how much you hurt her?”

His smirk falls away. “What?”

“You fucking humiliated her. I thought she was going to have a total nervous breakdown.”

He blinks. “But all I … all I said was …”

I grab his shirt and wrench him toward me, and he’s so shocked that he doesn’t even fight back. He could, too. We’d probably be pretty evenly matched. “Did you tell her you wanted to fuck her?” I shout in his face. “Is that what you did? Right there in the fucking gallery? Did you make her feel cheap and stupid? Did you actually think that would work?”

He pushes on me and I let him go, shoving him backwards. “I didn’t mean to upset her.”

“But you did. She was a mess. Ask Caleb. He saw it, too.”

Markus runs his hand through his sweaty hair, leaving it standing on end. “Fuck. I had no idea she was so sensitive.”

“You didn’t? Weren’t you the one who told me Liza’s talking about putting her away?”

“Um. Okay, yeah. But she looked …”

I shove him again. It’s mostly show because I have to sell it, but knowing he tried to get to Stella makes it easy. “How did she look, Markus? Was she too hot to have problems? Or did it not matter, because your dick was doing all the thinking?”

“Yeah, actually.” He curses. “Should I apologize?”

I suppress my grin. “You’re saying you want to make up for this? Because Liza’s been so worried about her, and if this pushes Stella over the edge—”

His eyes get wide. “Liza knows I’m the one who upset her daughter?” And now he sounds afraid, because pissing off one of the cougars is not a smart move. I took a huge risk last night, being an ass in front of all of them, but I was careful not to cross any lines. Because if you get blacklisted, that’s it—good luck making a living in this town. “She … did you tell her what I said?” he asks, his jaw working.

I shake my head. “I wouldn’t do that to you, man. We have to stick together, don’t we?”

He nods. “Yeah. We do.”

“You’ve been with Liza before, right?”

“Last summer.”

“I saw you together last night. Seemed like she missed you a little.”

He shrugs. “We had fun. But aren’t you guys going at it now?”

“Eh. I’ve got this thing with my family going on. I can’t be there for Liza right now, and her husband’s in Germany. She’s pretty lonely.”

Something glints in Markus’s eyes. “Yeah?”

“Maybe you should call her.”

Something
else
glints in Markus’s eyes. “What are you up to?”

I step close to him. “After what happened last time I shared sensitive information with you, do you
really
think I’m going to tell you?”

He rolls his eyes. “Point taken.”

“So what I’m suggesting, especially if you’d like to make life easier for Stella, the innocent girl you hurt and humiliated last night, is that you call Liza, and you make her feel good about herself, and you get yourself invited over there, and you help her work off some of her stress.” I give him a friendly smile.

His brow furrows. “Isn’t that moving in on your territory?”

I nod, still smiling. “Do your worst. See if you can make her forget me. It won’t be easy.”

His lip curls. “I think I can manage.”

I slap his shoulder. “We’ll see.” I back out of his studio, unwilling to turn my back on him. He does, after all, know how to wreak havoc with a welding torch. “Good luck.”

“Don’t need it,” he says as I walk away grinning.