If You Stay (11 page)

Pax stares at me, his hazel eyes more gold than green in the morning light.  He nods slowly. 

“I will try very hard not to hurt you,” he says.  “I’m fucked up. So I can’t promise that I won’t.  But I promise that I will try.”

“Okay,” I whisper.  “But try very hard.”

Pax chuckles, low and husky and my belly twinges with warmth from the sound of it.  “And I did not cheat on you.  We weren’t together.  You rejected me, remember?”

He dips his head and kisses me again.  This time, it is a kiss with promise.  Of things to come, of things that might be.  It fills me up with hope and I realize with a start that this is the first time I’ve felt truly hopeful in quite some time.  It’s quite a feeling and for just a second, I think that I might not be crazy after all, because it feels right. 

As Pax pulls away, he holds onto me, looking down at me and I see warmth in his eyes. So there really was warmth there the other day.  I hadn’t been imagining it. 

“I remember,” I tell him.  “But it was because I was trying to listen to my head, not my heart.  My head is usually the smarter of the two.  For once, though, I’m going to do the crazy thing.”

Pax grins.  “I’ve done the crazy thing more times than I can count, usually to my detriment.  Trust me, I know crazy, and this isn’t it.  This is… just nature.  A man and a woman who are attracted to each other when they logically shouldn’t be because they’re opposites.  But opposites always attract, you know, so it makes total sense.”

He says this knowingly, as if he’s an expert and I laugh. 

“Okay, Dr. Phil.  We’ll just pretend that it makes total sense and then just go from there.”

“Where exactly do we go from there, though?  How do we go about a real relationship?” he asks wryly.  “Because I truly don’t know.”

I can see that he doesn’t. He looks at a loss and he’s not even trying to hide it.  I find that refreshing, so I don’t make fun of him. 

Instead, I simply say, “Well, we start with a first date.  Then a second and a third.  We’ll take it slow.  I’m not going to jump into your bed tonight, Pax.  I meant it when I said that I’m afraid to trust you to not break my heart. I’m going to need some time for you to prove that you won’t.”

“I’m okay with that,” he tells me, amusement in his voice.  “I think you’ll be worth the wait.”

I smile, then lean into his arm and we watch the lake, at how the foamy lip slides onto the beach and then sucks back away.  The sun glistens on the surface like a million prisms of light and I look up at him.

“I bet this is the earliest you’ve been up in a while.”

He laughs.  “Maybe.  I’m not admitting to anything, though.  I will tell you that I need a shower. Desperately.  So I’m going to drive you to your car, then take one.  When can I see you again?”

When can he see me again?

The way he words that question causes my heart to twinge a bit once again.  It seems so vulnerable and tender, like him.  Like somewhere, deep down, behind his tough-looking exterior, he’s fragile.  But I don’t say it because I’m sure that he wouldn’t appreciate being described with that particular word.

Instead, I reply, “I have to work a shift at The Hill, my family’s restaurant. My sister runs it.  I’m helping out during the slow winter months. But if you want to come over around the end of my shift, we can have our first date.  Do you like Italian food?”

Pax smiles.  “I love it.  And it’s a date.”

He walks me to his car and then kisses me again, leaning me against the cool metal door as he wraps his tongue with mine until I feel weak-kneed from his nearness.  But I finally pull away like a rational human being and watch him walk around to his side.  I can’t help but notice the way the muscles in his back flex as he moves.  I sigh.  

He’s gorgeous, and flawed and sexy.  And I have no idea what I’m getting into.

********

I had forgotten how tiring waiting tables truly is.  I’ve only been here for five hours and it feels like a million.  I pause tiredly by the kitchen door to rub my ankle after banging it on a table leg. 

“Tired already?” Maddy asks with a grin as she passes by.  She pauses next to me, a tray of food in her hands.  “Don’t worry.  The night is almost over.”

I roll my eyes.  “Yet the blisters will last all week.  Oh, the things I do for you, big sister.”

She giggles and delivers her food while it is still steaming, balancing the loaded tray expertly.  Even though she has been here every bit as long as me today, she still looks flawless. Her blonde ponytail is still perky, her makeup is still perfect.  She doesn’t look for even a minute like she is hung-over.  I don’t know how she does it.  It’s annoying.

I sink into a nearby chair to rest my weary legs. 

“Is this seat taken?”

Before I even look, my heart knows that the husky voice belongs to Pax. 

I turn and find Pax behind me, freshly showered and dressed in slacks and a button-up.  Holy Hell.  He looks amazing.  I hadn’t been expecting him to dress up and I instantly feel at a distinct disadvantage.  I’m grimy and smell like garlic. Why can’t I look perfect at all times like Madison?

“Hi,” I tell him softly.  “You clean up really well.”

He smiles, bright and brilliant.  “Thanks.  Am I early?”

“Only a bit.  Why don’t you come sit at the bar and get a drink while I finish up?”

He nods and I lead him to the bar, introducing him to our lion-haired bartender. Tony’s thick black hair stands up in an uproarious mess all over his head.   

“Pax, this is Tony.  He’s been with us for years, back when my parents were still alive.  Tony, this is Pax.  Can you keep him company while I finish up my shift?”

Tony, a forty-year old true Italian, looks interested in this venture.  As I walk away, I hear him begin interrogating Pax. 

I turn around.  “I’m sorry,” I call to Pax.  “I won’t be long.”

Pax rolls his eyes good-naturedly and returns his attention to Tony’s inquisition.  I turn back around, only to bump directly into Maddy.

“What are you doing, little sis?” she asks sternly. “What’s
he
doing here?”

I eye her.  She’s got her sternest big-sister expression on and I sigh.

“He’s here for a date.  He saved my ass last night.  And if you’d like to come with me while I change clothes, we can talk about it.”

“Oh, you bet I will.” 

Madison calls out to another waitress to watch things in the dining room, and then she accompanies me down the long back hall to her office, where I’d stashed my bag. 

As I take off my garlicky restaurant shirt and apply fresh deodorant, Maddy starts firing questions at me.  With each word that leaves her mouth, I sympathize even more with Pax, who I know is answering just as many questions in the other room.

As I pull on a soft white long-sleeved shirt and jeans and spray perfume on my neck, I look at my sister.

“Look.  I know you’re concerned about me.  And I don’t honestly know if I should be taking this chance with Pax.  But what I do know is that he makes me feel things I’ve never felt before.  He makes me feel alive and hopeful that life truly can turn out amazing, if I only try hard enough.  And last night, he saved me from Jared’s drunk ass.  So please.  Just give me some space to try and figure this out and see where it goes.  It’s just a freaking date.  We’re not eloping or anything.”

Madison sighs, loud and long.  “I think you’re insane. The guy has a drug problem.  Among many other problems, probably.  I don’t think you should be giving him the time of day, much less a few hours for a date.”

I glare at her. 

“Maddy, you shouldn’t judge someone that you don’t even know.  I don’t think he actually has a drug problem.  I think he uses, and of course I hope he stops. He made a mistake the other night by using too much.  And again, I hope he stops and that never happens again.  But there’s something in him that seems so real and genuine, I can’t help but want to get to know him better.  There must be something good in him.  He saved me last night.  He didn’t have to.”

I stare at her and Maddy sighs heavily once again as she strums her red nails on her desk nervously. 

“There’s something I should remind you of—something our mother always said.  You can’t change a person, Mila.  Not ever.  A person will always be what they are.  So don’t go into this thinking that you can change Pax, and that his good qualities will overtake his bad.  Things don’t work that way.  You don’t even know him.”

I’m quiet as I brush my hair and pull it into a low ponytail. 

“No, I don’t,” I finally say as I turn to face her.  “But you don’t either.  I’m going to get to know him because I’m an adult and it’s my decision.  Can we please drop this now?”

We have a stare down, me into her blue eyes and her into my green.  Finally, she sighs and looks away.  I smile at her concession.

“Thank you,” I tell her as I bend to kiss her cheek.  “Just be polite to him, okay?  I’m not asking you to be best friends.”

Maddy scowls at me, but I pay her no mind as I hurry out to the bar to save Pax from Tony.  As I approach, I see that he doesn’t appear to need saving. Tony is chuckling at something that Pax said, and Pax seems to be perfectly at ease.

I relax.

That is, until Pax turns in his seat and smiles at me. He’s got a cleft in his chin that I somehow didn’t notice before and his golden eyes are sparkling. 

The world tilts on its axis and my heart slams a crazy cadence against my ribcage.  I’m probably in way over my head, but for the moment, I don’t care.

Chapter Ten

Pax

I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as Mila looks walking toward me across the dining room.  It’s not just because she’s gorgeous. 
It’s because she’s walking toward me
.  To be with me.  Even if it’s only for tonight or for now.

I gulp and grin at her. 

She smiles back and everything seems right with the world, a strange and unusual feeling for me.  

When Mila is halfway to me, Tony says quietly, “Don’t hurt that girl or you will answer to me.”

I glance at him and he’s got a gruff, rigid look on his face, very different from the congenial bartender he was a second ago.  But I understand it.  He’s protecting Mila and I’ve got to respect that.  I nod.

“I’ll try not to.”

Tony nods back as he towels off a glass.  “Do that.”

Mila slides up next to me, breaking the sudden tension.

“Hi,” she murmurs and she places her slender hand on my shoulder.  I fight the urge to lift it into mine and kiss it.  It’s a strange inclination for me.  But she seems to bring out strange things in me. 

“Hi,” I answer.  “You ready for our date?”

She grins again.  “Absolutely.  Why don’t we put our food orders in before the kitchen closes and then we’ll open a bottle of wine.  I’ll show you the best table in the house.”

She grabs my hand and leads me through the quiet dining room to an even quieter table for two by the windows.  The entire back of the restaurant faces the lake which is easily visible through the windows.  To the left, I see an Italian-style patio, which I must assume is used for dining in the summer months.  It’s too chilly to eat out there now. 

“Will this be all right, monsieur?” Mila asks with a smile and an exaggerated accent.  I grin back.

“French?  I thought this was some fancy Italian joint.”

She giggles, handing me a menu as I sit.  I catch a hint of her perfume as she moves and I inhale it.  She smells like heaven, just the way her mouth tastes.

“We’re not aiming to be fancy.  We’re aiming to be an authentic Italian place.  We just did a bunch of renovations this past summer to improve the ambiance and make it feel like you’re in Italy.”

I look around at the rough stucco walls, the Italian art, the rustic charm.  It does seem like we’re sitting in an old-world kitchen.  So I tell her that and she beams.  Apparently, that’s exactly the look they were going for.

“I’ll have the lasagna,” I tell her.  “Is it good here?”

She gives me a look.  “Everything’s good here.  Make sure to tell all your friends.”

I laugh.  “I don’t have that many.  But I’ll try and pimp your restaurant for you anyway. How do you feel about the rougher type of crowd?”

She gives me a dry look and darts away, presumably to turn our food order in. She’s back within a minute with a bottle of wine and she settles into the chair across from me.  The candlelight flickering on our table casts a soft light onto her face. 

“Wine?” she asks as she pours me a glass of red.  I nod, which is good, because she’s already pouring.

“Thank you,” I tell her.  “It’s a beautiful night, isn’t it?”

I glance out the windows, at the lake that is calm and dark in the night.  Mila follows my gaze. 

“I love the lake,” she tells me quietly.  “I know that most of us do that live here, but I really love it.  It’s so comforting.  It’s always the same no matter what else changes in my life.”

I have to stare at her, because I feel exactly the same way.  It’s one of the reasons that I choose to live here, perched on the very edge of it.  The lake symbolizes continuity to me.  And it is comforting. 

Mila stares at me, her gaze pensive.  I notice now that her eyes are the softest shade of green, almost like jade. 

“Tell me about yourself,” she instructs softly as she sips from her wine.  Her fingers almost stroke the wine glass and I find that I am jealous of it.  I also notice that she’s wearing a deep red ring on her middle finger that is the exact shade of the wine.  I take a breath.

“Well, my name is Pax Alexander Tate.  You know where I live now, but you probably don’t know that I grew up in Connecticut and we moved to Chicago when I was seven.  My father is still there.  He’s an attorney downtown.  But I moved here a few years back.  I love the lake, just like you. I love the peace and quiet and the solitude.  I’m not the most social person, and I knew that people in lake towns are used to leaving other people alone.  Locals know that sometimes people come here for exactly that reason—to be alone, away from the noise of the city.  That’s why I chose to move to Angel Bay.”