We Shouldn't and Yet... (28 page)

“Aideen,’’ Olivia breathes out.

“One point for your wife, Q.’’ I’m breathing loudly in the room. My eyes are prickling, but I don’t want to know why, or wonder why my vision is getting all blurry. It’s too humiliating. Instead, I keep my focus on Q and how fast and hard my heart is beating.

“Do you love her?’’ Olivia asks softly. Her voice has never sounded so soft when directed at me.

“It doesn’t matter.’’

“It does, fucker. Are you?’’

“It’s over between her and me. And—and it’s fucked up anyway. I’m too old and there’s Hal in between.’’

“You’re not answering,’’ Olivia says, her lips pursed at me.

Q pats me on my leg, missing one of the bandages by a miracle. “He just did, in a Jensen Lagger kind of way. He loves her.’’

“Stop, Q. Seriously.’’ I look away, a lump growing in my throat. “I don’t want to talk about this.’’

“You’ve never been in love like that. I thought it was just an obsession, fucker. But if you love her, truly love her, then it’s a very different thing.’’

“How, huh? Hal is still my son, he still has feelings for Aideen and I’m still sixteen years older than her. Tell me how it’s any different just because I’ve had a light bulb moment. And what do I have to fucking offer her, huh?’’

“Jensen,’’ Olivia says, standing up and taking a seat right at my hip, grabbing one of my hands in her smaller ones. Her touch is purely platonic, but it’s the first time she’s ever touched me with what seems like genuine affection. It throws me. “I’ve known you for a short amount of time and I know we’re always bickering, but you’re family. Quentin and I, we both want to see you happy and if Aideen is making you happy then you deserve that. I’m sure that with time it’ll be sorted out and Hal…He’s a good guy. He’ll eventually understand.’’

“He’s my son. I’ve done one of the worst things a father could do. He’ll never get past it if he ever hears about it. And Aideen…’’ I trail off, my voice getting ready to break, shaking like I haven’t heard it shake often over the years. “Aideen will never do this to him. It would never work for many reasons.’’

“She has feelings for you, fucker,’’ Q says over his wife’s shoulder.

“How do you know? You’ve talked a couple of times with her.’’

“When you two are in the same room it’s pretty obvious, J. I thought it was a sexual tension, attraction or whatever, but now…’’ he rubs at the back of his neck, a twisted expression to his face. “I’m not so sure. You should talk with her instead of feeling sorry for yourself and getting drunk out of you fucking mind.’’

“I have to see her anyway.’’ I keep seeing the look on her face earlier today. I need to see her even for a few minutes and in plain sight where I can’t grab her hand, kiss her, hug her or lead her to bed. I don’t give a damn. I just want to talk to her for a few minutes and tell her the things I didn’t the last time we had together. I have enough regrets in my life without adding this one. It’d be the one too much for me to bare.

“Maybe that crash put your brain back together.’’ Q pats my arm and Olivia releases my hand, an adoring smile on her face when she stares at her husband. “Next time you have a problem, call me, fucker. I don’t want to hear about you from someone else.’’

“It’s a miracle we got here in one piece. At one point I asked him if he wanted to go to the hospital and be on a bed right next to yours.’’

I chuckle and groan when waves of pain crash all over me. She quickly jumps to her feet and is out of the room in a flash. Q and I are looking at each other, eyebrows raised and questions written all over each other. But before we can mutter a word, Olivia is back with a nurse and a new bag of clear liquid to add to my IV.

“Mr. Lagger, visiting hours are almost over. You need rest and some painkillers.’’ The lady smiles at me and quickly works on my IV as Q waves at me and adds a little parting gesture for me; a middle finger. I return the sentiment and nod at Olivia who smiles at me, making me promise to come back for dinner soon.

***

AIDEEN

I glance down at the boxes of tacos and breathe in the spicy aroma wafting around me as I round the corner of my street. I had a hellish night last night. I kept having nightmares featuring all the important people in my life dying. Each time it was Jensen’s turn and I saw his bike smashing right into the biggest truck I’ve ever seen I’d wake up in a silent scream, tears running down my face. At four in the morning, I gave up and went to the kitchen for some tea and parked myself on my couch with my kindle.

I look up from the concrete ground and almost let the bag full of tacos fall at my feet. A few feet from me stands Jensen, leaning heavily against the wall and a grimace of pain etched deeply on his face. Even with the thick beard I can see it.

I run toward him, my stomach in my throat at seeing the ghostly white of his skin. “Jensen!’’

He turns his head toward me and tries to straighten up, but his breathing staggers. A rivulet of sweat runs down his temple and I don’t think it has anything to do with the heat.

“What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be resting at home, damn it!’’

He wipes the sweat gathering on his forehead. Even battered and tired and in pain he still is one of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen in my life. He’s also the most rugged one and I’ve never thought it’d be something I’d be into. But I really am.

Even when worried for him, I can’t help myself from checking him out. His light grey t-shirt hugs his tight and muscular chest and round shoulders a little, just enough to emphasize his muscles. His big arms make me want to crawl into them. His jeans, old and ripped at the knees are sitting low on his tapered hips. I think I actually just licked my lips.

“I was home all morning. I called a cab as soon as Hal left.’’ He brings a hand to his side, right where I know he busted several ribs. “I needed to see you, beautiful,’’ he says more quietly, his eyes deeply fixed on mine.

I melt. Of course, I melt. I can’t resist that man and when he calls me beautiful, there’s a war of butterflies in my belly. “You need to sit down. Come on.’’ I shake my head, and open the building’s door and climb the flight of stairs, closely followed by Jensen. His pride makes him grit his teeth to keep out any sounds of pain. He goes slowly, at least slower than usual, but he’s not showing much signs of anything. But I see how much it’s costing him. His eyes are glassy from the pain, his forehead still coated with sweat and his mouth is just a straight line, his lips almost disappearing. I make quick work of unlocking my apartment and lead him to the couch, a hand on his bare forearm. It’s hard to ignore the energy I feel seeping into me, the heat consuming me.

He sits slowly, more stiff than usual. Once he’s on the couch he releases a big waft of air and lets his head rest on the back for a beat or two.

“Do you want something to drink? Water?’’

“I don’t need alcohol, if you’re worried, Aideen. I’m doped on painkillers and I’m not a big fan of puking my guts out.’’

“I wasn’t implying anything.’’ I sit next to him. There’s not much space between us, but I’m careful not to touch him.

His dark eyes land on the small gap between our legs and his frown deepens. “We both know I drink too much. Let’s not pretend and just be honest.’’

“You’re coping in the way you feel more comfortable doing. But yes, you’re drinking too much.’’ I tilt my head to one side, not sure where he’s going with it and by being here to see me. What is it? Just having him here and being alone with him when there’s nothing anymore, it hurts.

“I know.’’ He nods and scratches his beard. I watch his thick fingers and I’m struck with the memory of these fingers playing with my nipples, with these same fingers entering me and bringing me so much pleasure…

I clear my throat and cross my legs, my eyes now on the bag of tacos on the coffee table. “Want a taco? I ordered way too much.’’

“You’re inviting me for lunch?’’

“You’re here and it’s lunchtime. If—if you’re here to say something and go home, just say it. If you’re hungry, then,’’ I say and take a taco and give it to him. He takes it without thinking. “Then eat.’’

“You don’t look that perturbed to see me.’’ He shakes his head and unwraps his taco, his big hands swallowing it almost completely. “I’m a fucking mess here and you look…’’

“Remember, I’m good at hiding my feelings.’’ I tentatively take a bite of my taco. It’s good and the flavors are pretty amazing, but I’m not hungry anymore. I’m far too aware of the man sitting on my couch, of the way my whole body answers to his presence and how I’m dying to feel his hands on me instead of watching him cradling the taco and eating it slowly. After the third bite he rewraps it and leans forward with a cringe to put it back in the bag.

“Don’t hide from me.’’

“What good would it do, Jensen?’’ I ball up the paper and throw it on the coffee table. “Why are you dragging this out?’’

“Because I saw your face at the hospital.’’ He grabs my hand and links his thick fingers through mine, enveloping my small hand. God, it feels so good to just touch him. “You looked…I fucking don’t know, but there was something in your eyes.’’

I try to pull away, but he doesn’t let me. “Jensen, let me go.’’

“Stop hiding, Aideen. Fucking stop for once.’’

“I was scared for you, it’s how humans are. What do you want me to say?’’

“That you fucking care about me. That I mean more than a good fuck to you. Say something, anything!’’ he growls out, his voice getting louder as his frustration stokes mine. We’re going nowhere, unless it’s somewhere that is supposed to be forbidden. Then, we’re heading straight to that messy place without damage control. It scares me.

“Don’t do this. We agreed to stop seeing each other.’’

“I can’t forget you, beautiful.’’ He releases my hand and covers his face with his. His voice comes out muffled behind his palms. “You’re always there, and nothing and no one can change that. It’s fucked up, wrong and bad, but it feels so fucking good to be with you. It’s fucking torture to think of you without having you. If I’m the only one feeling like this, tell me and I’ll go. One way or the other, something needs to give before I go over the damn edge.’’

My hand shakes as I reach for his shoulder, but I need to touch him. He can’t say such things. He can’t.

***

JENSEN

I’m bared to her. I’m fucking exposed and she’s so damn quiet. I could lower my hands and look at her, but I’m too much of a coward to do so. I’ve let out too much, said too little or too much I don’t really know. Either way, she can’t say she doesn’t know she means a lot to me, much more than she should and more than I’d ever expected her to. It’s more than an obsession.

Then I feel the heat of her palm on my shoulder, the small squeeze of her fingers around it. I take a good, long breath and lower my hands, manning up at last. I look over at her and see her face just above my shoulder, her eyes darker than usual, sadder and conflicted. It’s like a low blow right to the heart where I’m the most sensitive, where I’ve never let anyone but her that close to it.

“You don’t feel the same,’’ I say. My shoulders sag and her hand slips away. I don’t try to recreate the contact, to seek her warmth.

“Listen—‘’

“I really don’t want to listen to the usual lines like ‘it’s not you it’s me’ kind of bullshit.’’ I stand up and cover my cringe by turning away. I ball my fists at my sides and start walking back to the door. I can’t stay here, at her place, the same place where I have most of the memories of being with her. I am a sick bastard, but not sick enough to torture myself again and again. It fucking hurts enough. Too much, really. It’s worse than cracked ribs, a concussion, and asphalt burns all put together.

“We can’t have anything, Jensen.’’

I turn back around and point at her face. I’m much bigger than her, I’m furious and yet she doesn’t bat an eye. Her fierceness, the fact that she knows me from the inside is a turn on. “We already have something!’’ She looks away from me. “We fucking have something, and you’re fooling yourself if you think that it’s over or that it’s nothing more than a mess we have to hide. Every time you look at me I feel it right here.’’ I bring a hand to my aching heart. “I feel it here, Aideen. It’s something.’’

“Hal is still your son and he’s still my best friend. I don’t see why you’re—‘’

“Leave him out of this right now.’’ I step closer to her, suddenly a renewed hope filling my chest. “It’s about you and me. Not the rest of the fucking world. Tell me what you feel, beautiful. Just this once.’’

She looks back into my eyes and it’s like a kick in the stomach leaving me breathless. “I’m in love with you.’’

“You…’’ I clear my throat and reach out to cup her face in my hands. I don’t give a fuck about the ache in my ribs from moving too fast, I don’t give a fuck about my raging headache. “You’re in love with me?’’

She nods and when she wraps her arms around me and puts her hands flat on my back as if to secure me there, right there against her, I free-fall but the crash never comes. I soar. Laughter builds within me ready to escape my lips as a huge smile stretches my whole face.

“I realized it yesterday.’’

I lean my face closer to hers, my eyes set on her parted lips, too enticing for me to resist. But she shakes her head and I stop, my nose brushing against hers. “Beautiful?’’