Fear of Falling (32 page)

“So Kam, you call Blaine?” he said, low enough to escape curious ears.

I shook my head. “I was hoping to see him here.”

“Well, maybe CJ knows. He just walked in.”

I looked over in time to see CJ sauntering over, a nervous, tight-lipped grin on his face.

“Hey, uh, um…” he stuttered. “I just wanted to say, that, um…”

I held up my hand, halting any further explanation. “It’s all good, CJ. Nothing to worry about. Pull up a chair and join us. Better yet, you can have my seat.” I nudged Dom to let me out, earning a half-frown from him.

“And where do you think you’re going?” he asked, sliding out of the booth.

“To do what I should have done a long time ago.”

Minutes later, I was in Angel’s Lexus Coupe, cruising down the highway towards Blaine’s house. I had to do this before I lost my nerve, and with the sun setting behind me, I was running out of time.

The squeaky hamster wheel of scenarios in my head drowned out the subdued sounds of The Civil Wars on the stereo system as I tried to prepare myself for the worst. What if he wasn’t alone? What if one of his groupies had already taken my place? What if he was currently losing himself in her in an attempt to forget me?

The possibilities weren’t enough to get me to turn back. I needed to see it. I knew the scene would be enough to hurt me into never letting myself feel again. I needed that pain to be my constant reminder, to help me return to indifference. I had apparently forgotten about the agony I already harbored, allowing Blaine to take up space in my heart and mind. They had both been destroyed, but somehow Blaine had begun to repair the damage.

They say that a broken heart never really can be fixed. Yet his touch had sealed the gaping wounds and even filled the tiny fissures that couldn’t be seen. My heart may have not been completely healed, but Blaine had nurtured it with lingering smiles, whispered words and soft kisses. It had been out of order for so long, and over the past weeks, had slowly but surely begun to function again.

I pulled up to his house, palms sweaty and breath shallow. I could do this. I had to do this. I owed it to Angel for every lonely night she spent longing for someone to love her. I owed it to Dom for all the pain and suffering he had endured at the hands of someone who proclaimed to love him. And I owed it to myself for all for the love I had been too afraid to feel.

Love. It was the thing that bound us and tore us apart. It was our disease and the remedy of our shattered hearts.

It was a sonofabitch.

I counted down from 10 with every step I took towards his front door. I didn’t see his truck, but it could’ve been in the garage. I didn’t know what I walking into, and the uncertainty seized my joints, making me work for every single movement towards my fate. It felt like I was walking the green mile rather than the paved stone path to Blaine’s porch.

My pressed the doorbell before my brain could talk me out of it. No answer. I hit the button again and waited another 30 seconds. Shit. All that worrying and he wasn’t even there. I shook my head at the absurdity and rummaged through my purse. Then I left a folded piece of paper on his doorstep. At least he’d know I’d been by. And if he had moved on, maybe this would make him think about me. Maybe even enough to not want to forget the memories of our time together that I clung onto like a lifesaver.

“Kami?”

I slowly spun around, the air in my lungs abandoning me at the sound of his voice. Blaine stood just feet away from me, shirtless, and dripping wet with sweat. Black athletic shorts and running shoes were the only thing gracing his magnificent body. His tanned skin glistened underneath the setting sun, and his sandy brown hair stuck to his forehead. A single, solitary drop of sweat hung onto one of the longer layers over chocolate-brown eyes that watched me with appreciative surprise. I suddenly grew incredibly thirsty – parched, even—and only that drop would ease my dry throat.

“Kami?” he repeated, pulling the earbuds from his iPod out of his ears.

I didn’t realize that I still hadn’t said a word to him, too wholly captivated by his near nakedness. Blaine was gorgeous. Magnificent. The prototype of what a man would look like if fantasies were realities.

“Oh, um, sorry I didn’t call…”

“That’s ok,” he interjected, stepping towards me and bringing the dark ink adorning his body into focus. Intricate patterns and script kissed his fingers, arms, shoulders and torso. I had discovered more on his legs at the lake but never got the chance to study the designs. Now I was close enough to glimpse the reds, yellows, greens and blues that crawled up his left calf. Every piece was stunning and sophisticated.

“Is that for me?” he asked, pointing towards the abandoned piece of paper tucked in the corner of his doorframe.

“Uh, yeah. Figured it’d be better than leaving a note,” I shrugged.

He reached past me and squatted down to retrieve the little origami frog, giving me a whiff of his sweat slicked skin. His scent, coupled with the trace of mint and spice that I had grown to crave, was masculine and erotic. It was exactly what I imagined his sweat to smell like, and I wanted to bathe in the tiny droplets.

Blaine fingered the delicate paper and looked down at me with a half-grin. The heat from his body enveloped me, igniting fire in my belly. “Or you could’ve called me.”

I worked to keep my tight-lipped smile even. “Some things need to be said in person.”

He nodded, fishing out a key from the iPod armband that hugged his sculpted bicep. “Come on in.”

Blaine’s house was immaculate, just as it was before. Seeing it again brought back memories of his hands and lips caressing me, his strong arms holding me, and the tender words he uttered after I awoke in the dark. The look on his face when he shared his past with me, the intense feeling of wanting to take away his pain—it all came crashing back.

Blaine and I may have not known each other well, but we had grown close where it counted. He had witnessed my demons and revealed his own. Our connection wasn’t like the solidarity I shared with Dom or even Angel. But, something had bonded us, and I needed him in my life just the same.

“I need to take a shower,” he said from behind me as I took in the shelving that held his shot glass collection. My eyes zeroed in on the two blank ones, the ones he claimed were the most significant to him.

“That’s fine,” I breathed, feeling almost high from his scent.

“You can stay down here and watch TV if you want.” He made his way to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, downing it in just a few gulps. “You want some wine?”

“Sure.” A little liquid courage was just what I needed.

After handing me a glass of chilled white wine, Blaine clicked on the TV. He still had the little paper frog between his fingers, holding it like it was a precious gem. I smiled inwardly. Who knew a tough guy with tattoos and piercings could be so quirky and sentimental? It made him that much more attractive.

I surveyed the area once I was alone, sipping my wine as I looked at framed pictures of him and CJ, and even a few of Mick. I noticed several of a woman I knew was his mother. She shared the same sandy brown hair and warm brown eyes as Blaine. Of course, she was stunning, and her bright, beaming face brought a smile to my lips. When I stumbled upon a photo of her and a young Blaine, my breath caught. He looked so happy and innocent, the perfect picture of a young man with his whole life ahead of him. Even then, he was incredibly good-looking, and I imagined his mother having to beat the girls off with a stick.

“Her name was Amelia,” his rich voice said behind me, a touch of southern drawl conjured up with the memory of his mom.

“She was gorgeous,” I smiled at Blaine. He was dressed in low-slung cargo shorts and a sleeveless tee. The smell of his body wash filled my nostrils, bringing back memories of the suds all over my naked skin as I touched myself, imagining it to be his fingers. My face flamed, and I turned back to the photos. Shit. Leave it up to me to think about sex while talking about Blaine’s deceased mother.
Class-y
.

“She was,” he nodded. “Most of the men in town would try to date her, but I wouldn’t have it. No man was good enough for her. So, I mastered the art of being a sneaky little shit, and making their lives hell.”

“Not you, Blaine Jacobs! Look at that angelic face,” I chuckled, pointing to the younger version of the scary-beautiful man in front of me, sans tattoos and piercings.

“You’d be surprised,” he answered rubbing a hand behind is neck.

I took a deep breath and turned around to face him, resigning to confront the real reason I was there while the wine was coursing through me.

“Before you say a word,” Blaine interjected, “I want you to know that you still have a place at Dive. Just because things may not work out for us, doesn’t mean you have to leave. I can schedule you with Trisha or Corey, or you can work alone. Or…”

“Wait…what?” I frowned, taking a step back. “You… you think I came here to break things off with you?”

Blaine shrugged. “I don’t know. What was I supposed to think, Kami? I haven’t heard from you in days, and now you just show up, looking… fine. Better than fine.
Shit,
you look amazing. And here I am, going out of my fucking mind worrying about you. So please, tell me what I was supposed to think.”

He didn’t sound or look upset. He seemed hurt. And I felt like a huge asshole for making him worry.

“I’m sorry, I, uh, just needed some space and time to get my head together.”

“And now?” he asked with a raised brow.

“Now? Shit… I don’t know what. I, uh, you know…” Words failed me. Even the conversation I had on repeat in my head on the way over was long forgotten. I didn’t know how to do this. I didn’t know how to make him see that, though I was damaged, I still wanted him. And dammit, I wanted him to want me too. Not out of pity or obligation. But out of love.

Fuck. There’s that word again.

“You know…” I began chewing my lip nervously. I couldn’t do this. I didn’t even understand why I thought I could. No one could truly love a person like me. I was broken beyond repair. It would be selfish of me to expect him to be placated when I knew he deserved so much more. Someone normal and healthy. Someone who wasn’t afraid to love him as furiously as I wished I could.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Blaine. I can’t do this. I’m sorry.” I shoved my empty wine glass in his hands and turned towards the door before the first tears could be seen. I had to get away from here. I had to get away from him. With the impulse to stay and fall into his arms growing stronger by the second, I knew that my resistance wouldn’t hold much longer.

“Stop, Kami!” he called out.

I forced my legs to carry me to the door though my heart crumbled with every step. It was breaking, the new fractures disrupting its previously restored state. It was all my fault this time. I would have rather suffer alone than throw him into the thick of it.

I pulled the doorknob open, only to have Blaine slam it shut before I could escape.

“Dammit, Kami! Stop this shit! Will you stop trying to run from me all the time? It’s obvious that you came here to say something, so just say it. If you want to tell me how you feel, say it. If you want tell me I’m an asshole, say it. If you never want to see me again, then fucking say it! But I’m not just gonna make this easy for you. So if we’re done, you have to say the words.”

He pressed his front into my back, the heat of his anger seeping into my skin and causing sweat to break out all over my body. My breath caught at the feel of his hard body encapsulating mine.

“Blaine…I… I ca–,”

“Yes you can,” he gritted. “You came all the way here. Spit it out, so you can go back to not giving a shit about me, and I can start not giving a shit about you.”

I pushed against him and spun around, pinning him with my own angered glare. “What? You think I don’t give a shit about you? You think I came here because I don’t have feelings for you?”

“It’s obvious you don’t.”

I let out a frustrated huff, causing my nipples to brush his chest. “You don’t know a damn thing. It’s because I care that I’m even here. Do you think this was easy for me? Do you think this shit doesn’t kill me just to think about?”

Blaine took a step back and ran a hand through his wayward locks before stalking back into the room. “How am I supposed to know that, when you shut me out?” He looked back at me with enraged confusion. “Kami, I know nothing about you. All I see is this gorgeous girl who looks like she is carrying the weight of the world on her back. And every time I try to help shoulder that burden, every time I get too close, you try to run. So please… help me understand what I’m missing. Because I’m tired of trying to figure this shit out on my own.”

With my hands wrung tight in front of me, I stepped back into the living room. “You don’t know what you’re asking for, Blaine. You don’t want this.”

“Don’t tell me what I don’t want just to get out of talking. What are you so afraid of?”

Every tortured emotion that had been bottled up for the past month came rushing to the surface, bursting out of me like a violent volcano.

“Everything!” I screamed, tears streaming down my hot cheeks. “Everything! I am fucking afraid of everything, Blaine! Don’t you see that? Don’t you see why you shouldn’t be with me? I am twenty-three years old, and I’m scared of the dark! Or how about this—I can’t even close the fucking bathroom door. Do you realize how embarrassing that is? And let’s not forget about the best part…how I can’t even step foot into a body of water. That’s what you want to hear, right? You want to fix the broken girl. You want to make me a little pet project so you can feel better about yourself. Well, newsflash… I can’t be fixed. This is
me
. I’ll never be what you want, Blaine.”

Blaine was stunned into silence for long moments before he took a step towards me, his expression unreadable. “Why?”

Huh? What was he asking me? I glared at him through wet lashes and smeared mascara.

“Why?” he repeated.

“Why?” I snorted turning away from him. “Life happens. This is life, Blaine. And I don’t care what you say. That shit isn’t always beautiful. It’s ugly. And hurtful. And abusive.” I tried to wipe my leaking eyes, but the dam had broken. I couldn’t stop. If he wanted to know me, then he would. He would see the loathing that festered inside me. And when he realized just how scarred I was, he’d do what any sane man would do. He’d walk away.