Seeking Her (9 page)

She slid between my knees, and I settled my hands on her waist. To push her away. To pull her close. I didn’t know.

I stared at her lips, imagining the sweetness of her mouth paired with the strong edge of alcohol.

I could stay in control for her.

One drink wouldn’t kill me. And knowing I needed to watch out for her would help me keep it in check.

One drink.

One sip.

Just once.

I said, “If you’ll answer a question for me.”

She tilted her head to the side, and I reached out to trail a thumb along the slant of her neck.

“Deal.” She smiled.

She took one more drink, and then slid the glass into my hand.

It seemed tiny. It was maybe half full. Nothing that would do me any harm. I looked back at her smile. Quickly, I pulled the glass up and took a short sip before holding it out to her. She gave me a look. I could have brushed it off. But really, the drink hadn’t been that strong. Like lemonade, but a bit more sour.

I brought the glass up and took a longer drink this time. When I gave it back, there was nothing but ice left.

She smiled, her lips close to mine.

“My turn,” I said. “The other night . . . what did you mean when you said you were tired of being?”

She froze. Maybe I was pushing too far, but I needed a change of subject. I needed to know something of worth because the guilt was already crawling across my skin. And a voice at the back of my mind was asking again and again, What have you done?

She said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She looked away, but I used a finger on her jaw to bring her eyes back to mine. “It’s just . . . I look at you, and I see a beautiful woman in the prime of her life, traveling to exotic places, with the world at her fingertips. But I think that’s just what you want people to see. And maybe I love a mystery too, because I can’t seem to make myself stop thinking about what’s underneath all that, what you
don’t
let people see.”

I brought my other hand up, cradling her face. Concentrating on her instead of the monumental mistake I’d just made, instead of everything I’d just thrown away.

It didn’t work. She pushed my hands off and pulled out of my reach.

“I told you . . . I don’t know what you’re talking about. I was wasted. You shouldn’t take one person’s drunk ramblings as truth.”

She turned away, picked up my abandoned drink, and gulped half of it down in one pull. I was relieved. If she drank that, one less thing to tempt me.

“I don’t believe you,” I said. “I think it was the most honest thing you’ve said to me. Maybe to yourself, too.”

She stayed facing away from me as she said, “Again with the knight-in-shining armor bullshit. I don’t need you to take care of me. You don’t know anything about me. So whatever you think you’re doing, whatever you’re trying to
fix
in me, you can fuck off.”

She took another big gulp, and I noticed her hands were shaking. All week, I’d been thinking about whether or not she was going to crash again, and now I might be the one pushing her to it.

“Hey, I’m sorry. Don’t be upset.”

I stood behind her, my hands hovering above her shoulders.

“I’m not upset.”

She threw back the rest of the drink, and then slammed it down on the bar. Immediately, she raised her hand to try to get the bartender’s attention.

I stopped hesitating and grabbed her hand. I pressed it down against the bar and leaned my lips down to her ear. Softly, I said, “Kelsey, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed. But don’t drink because you’re mad at me.”

Don’t drink because
I’m
mad at me and took it out on you.

I’d already fucked-up enough tonight for the both of us.

She turned her head toward me, but kept her eyes on the bartender.

“Apology accepted. And I’m drinking because I
want
to.”

“Just talk to me for a second.”

She ignored me, raising her other hand and calling out.

I spun her around by her elbow and trapped her between my arms and the bar. My guilt fizzled as the feel of her body against mine took precedence in my head.

“What the hell is your problem?”

“I just needed to talk to you for a second.”

“So you manhandle me like a caveman? Jesus!”

This was going so completely wrong. All because I touched that damn drink. I smiled, willing her to understand that I didn’t mean any harm.

“I just wanted to apologize.”

“You already did that.”

“I know. But I really am sorry.”

So goddamn sorry.

“I don’t think you are. There’s this pattern that keeps cropping up, where you judge me when you have no right to do so. And when you’re not judging me, you’re prying into my life.”

“I’m not judging you. I promise. And the rest? That’s just the soldier in me . . . I’m too straightforward. If I want to know something, I just ask. If I want to do something, I do it.”

Even when it is really,
really
stupid.

“Yeah, subtlety is definitely not your strong suit.”

I smiled, because she wasn’t struggling against me anymore. “No. It definitely isn’t.”

Neither, apparently, was control. She’d been fascinating from afar, but having met her, I decided
consuming
was the better word.

“Well, then. If you’ll let me go, I think I’m going to go find Jenny and the others. Since I’m not
allowed
to order another drink and—”

I’d already indulged one desire tonight, about which I would feel immensely guilty in the morning. Why not make it two?

I lifted my hands up from the bar to grasp her jaw. Then I set out to discover exactly what her lips tasted like.

12

S
HE HESITATED WHEN
my lips touched hers, but not for long. I traced my tongue across her bottom lip in the same way her tongue had on more than one occasion, and she opened to me immediately. She tasted sweet, just like I thought she would. And despite what I thought, I couldn’t taste a drop of alcohol, only her.

Her fingernails dug into the back of my neck, and I was hard almost instantly. I groaned against her lips as they pressed harder, faster against my own. I reached for her waist, but her swimsuit was in the way of my fingertips finding skin. I slipped one hand around to her back, pressing it flat against her smooth skin. She arched her back, crushing her chest against mine, and I wanted to devour her.

I pulled her bottom lip between my teeth just for a second, and her hands pressed down on my shoulders. Then I set about tasting the rest of her. The corner of her lips, her jaw, the long column of her neck. I leaned her back into the bar, my hips snug against hers so that there was no way she didn’t know exactly how much I wanted her.

She pulled my face up to hers and said, “I think I like your lack of subtlety.”

My only reply was to kiss her again. To have more of her. My newest addiction. I didn’t know how long we kissed except that my lips were raw, and it was still not
enough
. I could have spent another day, maybe two, just exploring her mouth.

She was the one to pull back, breathing heavy.

“Wow.”

I leaned my forehead against hers and said, “I should have just done that from the start.”

Her eyes fluttered closed, and she leaned harder into me, but didn’t say anything.

“Don’t tell me you’re speechless, princess.”

A tiny, tinkling laugh bubbled up from her mouth, and it was unlike any other noise I’d heard her make. She looked shocked, and let go of me to cover her mouth.

As I smiled at her, she started slumping sideways.

“Whoa!” I wrapped my arms around her waist, and her head thumped against my chest. She turned her face, pressing her cheek against my skin.

“Kelsey?” What the hell was going on?

She didn’t answer, but she was leaning almost all her weight on me now.

“My cheeks,” she mumbled.

“What about them, princess?”

She turned her head so that her forehead pressed against my chest again, her lips touching my skin. My heart raced in its cage. She made a noise, small and soft and pathetic almost. Unease curled in my gut.

I kept one arm around her waist, and used the other to pull her head up to mine. “Kelsey? What were you saying about your cheeks?”

“Can’t feel.”

“You can’t feel your cheeks?”

She didn’t reply, but when I loosened my grip on her jaw, her head began to fall immediately.

“Shit.”

Something wasn’t right.

I tilted her head back again, searching her eyes. Wide pupils, unfocused gaze. One of the neon lights overhead swept over us, and she winced, pulling away. The minute she was out of my arms, she collapsed. I narrowly managed to catch her before she hit the ground.

I tried to get her to look at me, but her eyes kept wandering.

“Kelsey, you didn’t have anything to drink earlier, did you?”

She opened her mouth but paused . . . for one, two, three seconds. When I was about to ask her again, she shook her head.

“Damn it. My drink.”

That was the only explanation. I’d set it on the bar, and it had been there unattended for . . . I didn’t know . . . a few minutes at least.

I held her tight between my body and the bar and snapped my fingers for the bartender’s attention. “This drink.” I held up the empty glass. “Did you see anyone mess with it? Anyone touch it besides me or her?”

The guy shrugged, and then went back to take someone else’s order.

Goddamn it.

I let go of Kelsey’s waist to scrape my fingers across my scalp. She started slipping, and I rushed to hold her tight against me again. I pressed my forehead against hers, trying to get her to meet my gaze.

“Everything is going to be okay, Kelsey. I’ll take care of everything. I’m taking you home.”

She sighed, almost sleepily, and then planted another kiss on the center of my chest before sagging against me.

She laid a hand over my heart, and if I thought I felt guilty over that drink, I was choking on it now.

“I’m sorry,” I told her. “This is my fault. I should have been watching.”

She lifted her head, but her eyelids were heavy, and each time she blinked, they stayed closed a little longer. She wrapped her arms around my neck, and I swept an arm underneath her legs.

With her cradled against my chest, I headed for the exit.

“I’ve got you, princess. You’re safe. If you can hear me, no one’s going to take advantage of you. I promise.”

She mumbled, “Bummer.”

I tried to laugh, but there was a crushing weigh on my chest, so it came out as nothing more than a breath. “You’re something else.”

People looked at us strangely as I waited in line to get Kelsey’s things from the coat check, but no one said anything. I kept asking her questions, trying to keep her awake.

I was completely naïve of what to do in this kind of situation.

But eventually, she stopped replying, and by the time I hailed a cab outside, she was asleep.

I told the driver the address of my hotel, and once I had Kelsey lying on the backseat with her head in my lap, I rummaged through our things for the dress she’d worn a dress over her swimsuit earlier in the evening, but I didn’t want to wake her to try to put it on. I laid it over the top of her so that, maybe, the taxi driver would stop staring at her through his rearview mirror. Because if he didn’t, his face was going to get to know that mirror really well.

I tried to swallow down the guilt cloying at the back of my throat, but it didn’t budge. I brushed Kelsey’s hair out of her face, letting my knuckles graze the curve of her cheek.

She was so beautiful. And it tore me to pieces to see her this vulnerable.

Because if she was anything like me, and I believed she was, it must kill her to be weak. It had taken me so long to deal with losing Rodriguez and Johnny and Teague and Ingram. For a time, it had been easier to cut them out completely, to burn out those memories with bitterness and distractions, so that no one had to see how completely dismantled I was.

I felt that same way now . . . dismantled. Like all I wanted to do was to hold Kelsey and piece her together, but I too was just a mess of parts, incapable of helping her in the way I wanted.

Maybe I couldn’t save her. People can only save themselves.

But I could be there for her like Rodriguez had been for me. I could take the bottle or her pain or her past or whatever it was that made her
tired
and use it for target practice just like Rodriguez had done for me. And maybe if we were lucky, our demons would be the dismantled ones.

When we were almost to the hotel, the driver took a turn too fast, and I had to hold her waist and shoulder to keep her from tumbling onto the floorboard.

She stirred. “What’s happening?”

Her eyes met mine, and I felt the shift in my thinking take root. I couldn’t leave her. Wouldn’t.

“We’re in a cab. I can’t be certain, but . . .” I tried to appear calm for her sake. “I’m pretty sure someone slipped something in that drink while it was sitting on the bar.”

She laid a hand across her eyes and groaned, “Fuck.”

“I tell you that you’ve been roofied and that’s all you have to say?”

“You tell me I’ve been roofied and expect me to say
more
?”

Even drugged, she had an attitude. And even though I wanted to get mad, I couldn’t. Not when she was like this. I trailed my fingers through her damp hair, wishing I could do more.

She laid a hand over mine on her stomach, lacing our fingers together. She fell asleep that way, but we arrived at the hotel less than a minute later.

I paid the driver, and then as carefully as I could, maneuvered her out of the cab. I tried my best to keep her covered by her dress, but the desk clerk still stared as I entered the building.

I didn’t bother getting her a new room. There wasn’t enough time, and I didn’t want her out in public like this any longer than she had to be.

She blinked up at me in the elevator, her lips marred by a frown.

“You scare me,” she said.

The air turned solid in my lungs. What did she think I would do to her? I struggled to take a deeper breath and then, as slowly and calmly as I could, said, “You have nothing to be scared of. I won’t . . . I wouldn’t. I’ll help you get to bed, and then I’ll leave, get another room.”

She shook her head.

“Not that. I don’t think that.”

“Then why do I scare you?”

“Because I don’t want you to see.”

She wasn’t making any sense. She didn’t want me to see her like this? The situation was hardly her fault, and it wasn’t as though I hadn’t been there the other night when she’d been so drunk that she’d gotten sick.

“See what?”

I shouldered open the door to my hotel room at the same time that she said, “Me.”

I stood in the entryway for a few moments, stunned into silence before I felt the cold, wet fabric of her swimsuit soaking through my T-shirt. I crossed the room quickly and gently lowered her into a cushioned chair.

I laid the things I’d gotten from the coat check at her feet, and then knelt in front of her.

“Why wouldn’t you want me to see you, Kelsey?”

She sealed her lips and shook her head.

“Kelsey, look at me.”

She did, reluctantly. She looked miserable. I pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. It was selfish, but I wanted to be the one person who got to
see
her. I wanted to be the only one with whom she didn’t feel the need to hide. “You are beautiful, that’s all I see.”

Her eyes went glassy, and I hated not knowing what to do to help her. As I watched, her head began to nod and she struggled to stay upright.

I cleared my throat, but still didn’t know what to do. She needed to rest. That was my best guess. “I, um, we should get you out of your wet swimsuit.”

I felt sick thinking about it, but I also didn’t want her to get a cold from sleeping in wet clothes.

She yawned. “Okay.” She tried to stand, but her legs wobbled and she started sinking back toward the chair before I caught her. She looked up at me as our bodies pressed together, and I had to force my eyes away because I swear I saw desire there.

She fumbled with the knot at her hip, where her complicated swimsuit connected. I watched her uselessly pluck at the fabric, her fingers weak.

In a small, quiet voice, she said, “I can’t.”

I had hold of her arms, but the rest of her body began to fall.

“It’s okay. I’ll help. It’s okay.”

Anything to take that crushed look off her face.

I lowered her into the chair, but then took a few steps back because, fuck, I needed some distance. I exhaled, dragging my hands across the top of my head and down over my face.

“What the fuck am I doing?”

How in the world was I supposed to do this?

God, give me combat. Give me death and destruction.

But this? I didn’t know how to deal with
this
.

“Okay,” I said aloud. I could do it. Quick. Efficient. Just enough to make her comfortable. “Okay.”

Decided, I went to my suitcase and grabbed a clean T-shirt before returning to Kelsey. I got down on my knees in front of her and met her eyes. “Here, slip this on.”

This way I couldn’t see anything. Wouldn’t see anything.

She nodded, but didn’t move. After slipping the shirt over her head, I had to maneuver her arms through the sleeves. I was almost done when my forearm brushed against her chest, and she made a soft, sweet noise.

Fuck. Sorry. Damn it.

I berated myself silently before saying quietly, “Sorry.” Then I finished pulling the shirt on as fast as I could. Her eyes were more alert, and she watched my every move with a hunger in her gaze that was going to make this so much harder. I lowered her arm to her side, and then retreated to the other side of the room for another short break.

“Okay. Next step,” I said aloud, trying to approach this tactically. I needed to untie the knots at her hips, and then unwind the straps of fabric that wrapped around her waist and chest before attaching to the thin straps over her shoulders.

I lifted her from the chair and, with her in my arms, dragged back the covers on the bed. I laid her down and pulled the covers up to cover her.

I considered stopping there. But she shivered, and I knew I couldn’t.

I turned on the lamp next to the bed and knelt beside her. Then, like I was undressing my eighty-six-year-old grandma instead of Kelsey, I reached under the covers and found the knot of the swimsuit at her hip.

She stared at me, and I could only smile in a way that I hoped wasn’t creepy.

“Are you that scared of seeing me naked?” she asked.

I finished with the first knot quickly, detaching the strap of her top from her bottoms.

“I’m not scared, sweetheart.” In fact, I liked the idea entirely too much for me to feel comfortable in this situation. I added, “I promise I won’t look.”

I stretched my arm farther under the covers, trying to uncoil the fabric from her waist, but the rest of it wound beneath her body and I couldn’t manage to slide it out.

“Can you lift yourself up? That might be easier. ”

She tried. She tried so hard.

“I can’t.” Her voice shook, and I wanted to pour out a thousand apologies for making her feel weak.

I stood and sat on the bed next to her.

“Wrap your arms around my neck, and use me to pull yourself up.”

Slowly, she pulled her arms out from under the covers. I had to help her wrap her hands around the back of my neck, though.

“Just hold on.”

With her sitting up, I slipped my hands beneath the hem of the T-shirt that bunched around her hips. I pulled on the strap I’d untied from her hip, expecting it to unwind around her back to her chest. But when I pulled, nothing happened. The other part of the wrap must have been in the way.