Sleep is overrated, even though my eyelids refuse to open. My left side is no good. Neither is my right. On my back is the worst.
No matter how many pillows I clutch or prop my head with, my discomfort screams to be remedied. I can’t think of anything but how awful I feel.
If the damn room would just stop spinning, maybe my stomach wouldn’t be threatening to revolt.
I swallow, trying to rid my mouth of the taste of acid mixed with alcohol. It’s that weirdly sharp yet stale flavor after a night of over indulgence. The one you know is going to come back to haunt you in the morning.
The mattress shifts with the weight of a much heavier body on the edge. Before I can panic, Rob’s soft voice permeates the cotton in my ears. “Baby, sit up. I brought you juice and some aspirin.”
With the promise of relief on the way, I fight through my exhaustion to open my eyes.
Instead of the expected blurry vision of the bedroom in our apartment, an impersonal, sparsely decorated hotel room comes into focus in the dim light.
My sluggish mind takes a few heartbeats to catch up and erase my confusion.
The wedding, the reception, my proposition—it all returns to me with less clarity through the chronology of events. But, it’s the vague memories of Rob blowing up at me that really send my heart racing.
I scramble upright, barely controlling my gag reflex. As cool air washes over my sweaty skin, I glance down to find I’m only wearing my bra and panties.
“Where’s my gown?” I reach for the bedsheet, pulling it up to cover myself.
Rob furrows his brow, but looks away, respecting my obvious discomfort over him seeing me practically naked. After several awkward moments of silence, he clears his throat. “You were so drunk you just walked away from me without a word of explanation and curled up at the foot of the bed. I know you get hot when you’ve had too much to drink and it makes you feel worse, so I undressed you, then put you under the sheets. I figured you might get sick, so I put the wastebasket here.” He picks it up without looking my way to show me where it’s been at the bedside the entire time. “There’s apple juice and aspirin on the nightstand. I’m, uh, going to take a shower. Just…drink all that, then go back to sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning. I’ll turn off the lights so they won’t hurt your eyes so much.”
My body shifts with his movement as he rises from the mattress. The click of the lamp on the nightstand blankets the room in darkness.
As soon as the door to the bathroom closes behind him, my mind spins faster and louder than the old washing machines in the laundromat near my apartment.
Feel better in the morning? Feel better in the morning?
Under no circumstances or passage of time am I going to feel better about this situation.
Is he out of his mind?
No, that would clearly be me.
What was I thinking?
Oh my God, I propositioned him for sex.
My previous list of discomforts becomes null and void in the face of such shameful behavior. He’s supposed to be getting over his alcohol habit, and then I had to go and throw my drunken self in his lap. My cheeks burn, my heart thrashes wildly in my chest, and the room continues to spin.
I fall back onto the pillows, listening to the sound of the shower running, the tell-tale splashing of Rob washing himself under the spray.
If I close my eyes, I can picture everything he’s doing. Because I’ve seen it all for myself before.
Shampoo first, then rinse. No conditioner. Lather up the bar of soap, then slide it over his hard body, never using a wash cloth. On more than one occasion, I volunteered my hands for that job. Water tasted so much sweeter when being licked from his skin.
If I hadn’t gotten drunk off my ass at the reception and begged him to bring me back here, he might be having an entirely different kind of shower right now. The kind that leads to moans of pleasure competing with the sound of rushing water. I’m sure Lydia would be willing to do anything he wanted, and he’d enjoy it to the fullest extent.
Another wave of nausea spirals up from my stomach as I realize I’ve become like all the other jersey chasers who have ever begged for a night with the quarterback currently turning off the shower in the bathroom. The only difference is that I’m not capable of fulfilling his wildest fantasies.
Hot tears of embarrassment slide down my cheeks. Escaping before he returns to the main room is out of the question. I have no idea where my bridesmaid’s gown is, and I feel sick as a dog. Getting out of this bed, making myself decent, and trying to get home on my own will only result in me puking on the sidewalk outside the hotel.
The bathroom door creaks open, then he switches off the light. If only my eyes didn’t adjust to the darkness so quickly.
Rob emerges with a towel around his waist, but doesn’t bother giving me a passing glance as he crosses the room to rifle through his duffel bag for clean clothes.
In a desperate moment of self-preservation, I squeeze my eyes shut as the towel falls to the carpet. I can’t look at what I’ll never be able to touch again.
My only option is to feign sleep, then sneak out in the morning.
Rob climbs into bed, thankfully keeping to his side of the mattress. Not a single part of our bodies touch. The distance between us, which feels like a tangible entity in the room, hammers home the truth of how much has changed since we last shared a bed.
“Evie?”
I clench my eyelids tighter and hope my erratic breathing doesn’t give me away.
“I know you’re not asleep. If I’m making you that uncomfortable, I can sleep on the floor.”
Manic laughter combines with my tears. “I propositioned you for sex earlier, and now you’re worried about sharing a bed with me?”
“Are you…are you crying or laughing?”
“I don’t know anymore.”
“Are you still drunk? Are you sick? What can I do?”
Damn him. Even after everything he’s still so sweet.
I hope his lady friends appreciate his personality as much as his body.
“Can we–can we just forget this ever happened? I won’t back out on our deal if you won’t, but please never remind me I was a jersey chaser for one night.”
“You were a jersey chaser for one night?” he asks through clenched teeth.
“I literally just said don’t remind me! Pretend I never asked you to bring me to your hotel room in a drunken fit of desperation.”
He lets out a rush of breath that sweeps over my bare skin. “Oh. I thought you were talking about asking someone else to take you back to their hotel room.”
I roll my head to face him, incredulity blossoming in my foggy mind. “Who else would I be talking about?”
Rob shrugs. The familiar mannerism would be funny with him lying on his side, his head propped on the pillow and facing me, but instead it only draws attention to the fact he’s shirtless in bed. The muscles in his shoulders ripple with movement. “The average guy you had sex with?”
Shock grips me as silence descends between us. The background noise of other patrons in the hotel, the hum of the AC unit on the wall, the sound of a car passing outside, even the slow drip of the faucet in the bathroom all seem to blare at increasingly deafening levels as my heart tries to keep time with the plethora of different rhythms. “W–what?”
Rob furrows his brow. “You don’t remember confessing that to me, do you?”
No, I most definitely do not. I never had any intention of revealing that information to him under any circumstance. “What did I tell you?”
How much did I tell him?
Rob seems to stare at a random spot past me, his voice taking on a strangely disconnected quality. “I asked why you wanted me, the guy with the horse dick, to help test out your theory the hormone injections were working. I wanted to know why you didn’t ask someone who wouldn’t hurt you the way I do. You told me you tried it already with an average guy and hated it.”
Equal parts relief and disgust with myself spread through my chest. At least I didn’t go into any detail.
“I had myself convinced I didn’t want to know anything about it, about him. I ran down to the lobby convenience store for meds and juice for you on autopilot, almost like I was trying to physically keep myself busy, so I wouldn’t think about it. Realizing you were uncomfortable with me seeing you undressed changed my mind.” He levels me with a direct gaze. “I let you go, hoping someone else could make you realize how perfect you are, but the way you tried to cover yourself from me…it’s like you feel less beautiful now than you did before.
“In the shower, I couldn’t stop imagining what might have happened with that other guy to make you act like I would ever hurt you. If you’d seemed angry, like I shouldn’t be allowed to see you anymore after what I did, then that would make sense. But, it wasn’t like that.” He returns to staring somewhere beyond my body, like he’s replaying the moment in his mind. “It was more like you were terrified. Like I was going to point out all your flaws, and you couldn’t handle that just then.”
His observations of my reaction to him seeing me in only my bra and panties aren’t wrong. After all the undoubtedly gorgeous women he’s been with since we parted ways over a year ago, the thought of him seeing me naked fills me with more anxiety than ever before. No amount of alcohol could ever wash away this feeling of inferiority. Which makes it that much more ludicrous I asked him for this night at all. What was I thinking?
I blame Alex and his stupid insistence I know the truth so I can move on with my life.
Rob redirects my attention with a whisper louder than any sound currently berating my ears. “Why did you hate it? Did he hurt you? Didn’t he appreciate you? Did he say something to make you feel…less than?”
I swallow down the agony lodged in my throat. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Why?”
That single question hangs in the air, wrapping around my body like a coiling snake, suffocating me slowly, until I have no choice but to lash out or perish.
“Why do you want to talk about it? Do you want to hear all the gory details of how he smelled like lust, man, and expensive cologne? Do you want to know if I felt delirious when he kissed me? Or, maybe you’d like me to tell you I screamed his name over and over while he made me come my brains out.”
Rob doesn’t recoil from my verbal assault. Instead, he furrows his brow, looking decidedly confused. “I thought you said you hated it?”
“I did.”
“Then why did you tell me all that just now?”
Because that’s what I always imagined it was like for you with Julie. And all the women you’ve been with since her. Since me.
“Who was he?” Rob demands, his tone laced with frustration. “What’s his name? Where does he live?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Because he obviously hurt you somehow, and I have plans to hunt him down and make him pay first thing tomorrow morning.”
“He didn’t hurt me.” No one could ever hurt me as much as you have.
Rob scoots a fraction closer on the mattress. “Tell me what happened, then.”
“Why don’t you tell me what happened with Julie and all your partners since her, hmm?” I mean it as a deterrent to his fishing expedition, but a sudden lightning bolt of awareness electrifies me. This is what I need to know. I need to hear from his own lips how much better they are than I could ever be. Then, I’ll finally be able to move on with my life.
It’s not hope for the future I’ve been lacking all this time. I’ve been clinging to hope that I was wrong—that’s the unfinished business between us. That was the truth Alex unknowingly set me on a path to discover.
Another wisp of distance is closed between us with Rob’s infinitesimal approach. “Maybe you should know she smelled all wrong. That I didn’t feel anything when she tried to kiss me. When I touched her, she didn’t feel like mine. Maybe you need to hear it didn’t even bother her when I called out your name as I came, but it repulsed me so much I threw up after.”
I nod, absorbing the information I so desperately need. Clothing myself in his disgust feels like a relief—like the affirmation every bruised ego needs once in a while to keep going, keep mucking along in the trenches of life. “That makes sense. You must have kicked yourself to make a mistake like that the first time. I’m sure it’s gotten easier, though. You’ve broken that old habit by now.”
“It wasn’t a mistake.”
His firm tone causes me to glance his way, only to find he’s now beside me, a mere inch separating us.
“The only way I got through having sex with someone else was imagining it was you. I hated it, too, Evie. I hated it because it wasn’t with you.”
That makes no sense. Why continue doing something he disliked so much? I certainly didn’t. Once was all I needed to know. “What about all the women since Julie?”
“Tell me why you hated it,” he insists instead of answering. “You had no problem waxing poetic about all the guys you’d been with at State.”
“That was different.” Those were lies.
“Oh, I know it was,” he chuckles without humor. “But I want, no…I need to know why you hated sleeping with someone else when you finally decided to go through with it for real.”
I clamp my lips together. I’m not quite sober yet, and he already managed to make me squeal like a stuck pig. That’s one pattern I have no intention of repeating.
“Evie,” he warns, his tone darkening.
I hold my lips tighter and shake my head.
“Tell me why.”
Spots dance in my field of vision from holding my breath so long; trying to remain strong and resist his will. I finally can’t stand it anymore and let out a burst of air. “Why do you want to know so much?”
His hand finds my hip under the sheets. I freeze. The touch isn’t haphazard or random. He sought that particular spot for a reason.
“Because I want to know if he saw my name on your body and cared at all. Hell, I want to know if you got it inked there before or after you were with him. I want to know if you still had your wedding band on the necklace I saw you wearing at the Albany game when he fucked you. I want to know if he cared enough to ask about it before taking something that didn’t belong to him.”
I never planned for him to know about this damn tattoo, either. Kicking myself for all my inadvertent confessions will have to wait until tomorrow, though. Anger simmers in my chest over his hypocritical accusations. “He didn’t notice the tattoo. I insisted the lights be off. I wasn’t wearing the necklace that night, so he didn’t have a chance to ask about it. I haven’t worn it since. And, I don’t belong to you.”
I belong to no one. Not even myself.
Rob nods, the slightest jerking motion. “I thought so, too. That you didn’t belong to me. But, I never asked you to ink your skin with my name in return for yours being imprinted over my heart. I didn’t once hint, joke about, or say anything to make you feel it was something I wanted. I have to assume you did it of your own free will. And since it is my name, I only think it’s fair for me to ask how, when, and why it got there.”
“The last time I checked, this tattoo reads Mrs. Falls, not mister. So, no. It isn’t your name. It’s mine.”
He sucks in a deep but controlled breath before releasing it just as carefully. His fingers tighten ever so slightly over the brand. “Then maybe you’ll answer me this: why is Mrs. Falls still your name?”
That’s a question I ask myself constantly. I’ve been holding onto the divorce papers since our anniversary last November. It’s been seven months. Every day, I tell myself I’m going to do it. Convince myself I’m ready. Maybe tomorrow I finally will be.
“Evie,” he repeats, his voice softer. “Do you need a push in the right direction to help you decide? You did it to me. If that’s what you need, I’ll do it for you, too.”
“I did it to you?” That hurts. Yes, I lied, and yes, he didn’t handle that well. But… “I did it for you.”
“You keep saying you did what you did for me, but it still feels more like something you did to me.”
A bark of laughter sneaks out of my throat. “And yet you’ve been reaping all the rewards ever since, so I stand behind my deception. You’re right; you only needed a firm push.”
“Do you?”
Yes. “What did you have in mind?”
Like metal in a fire, his harsh expression melts into something softer. “Can I…will you let me kiss you?”
“Don’t do this to me, Rob. I’m not strong enough to say no,” I regurgitate his own words back at him.
A hint of a smile plays on his lips, but thankfully, his dimple remains hidden. “I don’t want you to say no. I need you to say yes.”
We can go around and around, throwing pretty one liners at each other all night. Or, we can get down to business. “Then, kiss me, Mr. Falls.”
“It would be my absolute privilege, Mrs. Falls.”
He abandons the tattoo on my hip, gripping my jaw in his sure hand. Not too rough, not too light—the perfect amount of pressure to convey his need. Or maybe I’m reading too much into it.
That first swipe of his lips against mine sends my mind reeling. The smell of him, the feel of him is everything I remember and more. Or maybe because I’ve been so starved for over a year, I’m desperate.
“Evie,” he whispers.
His breath rushes into my mouth, filling my lungs with air they’ve lacked for so long. My chest stretches and burns as long-forgotten muscles suddenly spring to life. And then I remember.
Rob frowns when I pull back suddenly. I clasp my hand over my mouth and scoot away.
“What’s wrong? Are you going to be sick?”
Maybe. And that’s a problem. My voice is muffled by my hand when I make another horrid confession. “You can’t kiss me.”
His expression shuts down immediately, lips flattening into a hard line, eyes turning a chilly shade of blue. “Okay.”
I should let it go, but my brain screams for me to make him understand. With so much miscommunication between us, for some reason, I just can’t add this to the list. “I have a disgusting taste in my mouth from drinking so much. I’ve been feeling sick for hours, and my breath must be awful.”
A look of shock passes across his face. In the next heartbeat, he throws his head back and laughs. Joyful noise fills the room. It’s a true belly laugh, the likes of which I haven’t heard since before the game our senior year at State when he got a concussion that signaled the beginning of our end.
I didn’t realize how long it had been since I’d heard the sound.
I had no idea how much I missed it.
As he gasps for breath and tears fill his eyes, embarrassment replaces my happiness.
I’m sure all the gorgeous women who’ve shared a bed with him over the past year have always had perfectly minty breath, in addition to voluptuous, scar-free breasts, full-body waxes, svelte physiques meant for giving and receiving pleasure. They probably never have a hair out of place, racoon eyes at the end of the night, or get so sloppy drunk that Rob needs to take care of them instead of enjoying them.
I roll over, squeeze my eyes shut, and let my mind run with all the imagined scenarios of his steamy hookups, which seem far easier to handle than hearing him laugh at my idiocy.
Suddenly, heat washes over me as Rob’s bare chest presses against my back. He wraps me in his arms. His chuckles brush through my hair as he nuzzles me, peppering my cheek, ear, anywhere he can reach with slightly rough kisses. “God, I miss you.”
Those words, the sudden contact, my swirling thoughts all weigh me down until my body goes rigid.
“Ssh,” he soothes. “I’ll never hurt– “
He cuts himself off before I can interject.
“I have, though. More than anyone.” His chest heaves with a sigh that reverberates against my back. “So, I can’t understand why you got that tattoo at all. I want to know why you hated being with someone else because it makes no sense to me. If he was average, he shouldn’t have hurt you. Even if he was a complete asshole, he couldn’t possibly have done anything worse to you than I have. Telling me you hated having sex with someone else scares me, because…short of forcing you to do things against your will, I can’t understand how anyone on the entire planet isn’t better for you than I am.”
Where’s all the rage I’ve seen from this man since the game in Albany? What happened to all the diatribes about my lying, about me giving up on myself?
Strangely, his wrath is far easier to take than his guilt. His anger is justified; his guilty conscience never has been.
I roll in his arms to face him, needing him to see the surety in my eyes. “I hated it because he wasn’t you. That doesn’t mean I think we can be together, though. I stand by what I did because I will never believe I’m good enough for you. In so many ways. But, please, believe me when I say: any woman in her right mind would kill for a chance at something real with you.”
His eyes turn sad, ever-changing to another color reflecting his emotions. “Agree to disagree.”
“Why?”
He smiles, traces my cheek with a single finger. “Because you’re the perfect woman. I’m just the dumb jock who fell in love with you, but couldn’t keep you.”
“I’m not perfect. Far from it.” He knows that more than most.
“You have always been perfect…to me.”
“Yeah.” My laughter is full of sarcasm. “Me acting the part of jersey chaser tonight surely proves that.”
“You already have unrestrained access to all our money, so you didn’t ask me to bring you here to try and get at that.”
I roll my eyes. “Obviously. And I’m still not touching your money.”
He smirks. “Are you going to blast this little liaison all over social media?”
“No.” That’s insulting.
“Were you hoping to blackmail me in some way?”
“You mean like the way you blackmailed me into putting off a hysterectomy? No.”
“Hey.” He squeezes me a bit. “You’re getting something you want out of that deal, too. Don’t pretend you’re not.”
Fine. He’s got me there.
Rob studies my face, his gaze roaming over my hair, between my eyes, down to my lips where he settles. “Explain to me, then, how you acted like a jersey chaser tonight.”
Renewed embarrassment heats my skin. “Did you miss the part where I asked you to bring me to your hotel room? I’m not even as gorgeous as all the women you sleep with, let alone capable of hot, earth-shattering sex. I was so drunk and so convinced that might help me move on, I let my mouth run away from my brain.”
Rob furrows his brow. “That’s what tonight was about? You thought us having sex would help you move on?”
I don’t know what I was thinking anymore. I clearly wasn’t. “Maybe, at first. Something like that. I don’t know.”
“What do you need from me, Evie?” His voice is soft, but clear, his expression neutral, but without a hint of simmering anger. He seems to be holding his breath, waiting on my answer.
I’ll never have a better chance than this. The offer is on the table. I’ll regret this moment forever if I don’t take it. I close my eyes, inhale a gulp of courage, then let my anxiety fly. “I need to know I was right. I need to know you’re better off now. That you have an amazing sex life with gorgeous women who fulfill your every need. I need to know my sacrifice was worth it.”
His face falls a little. “I’m sorry. I can’t give you what you need…still.”
Frustration poisons my tongue. “Can’t? Or won’t?”
“Can’t,” he simply responds.
No, no, no, no. This is not how this conversation is supposed to go. He’s supposed to give me all the dirty details of his hookups. I should be dying inside while he tells me he’s finally caught up to Alex—the number of women he’s bedded has reached triple digits.
Just as he threatened earlier, he refuses to give me what I want. Instead, he pulls me closer. “I know you don’t listen to me when I tell you the truth.”
“Just because it’s the truth from your perspective doesn’t make it axiomatic,” I whisper, trying to hide my face in the pillows.
“It does,” he insists. “I even killed a part of my soul I’ll never get back to prove it’s the absolute truth.” He swallows thickly, then resumes his torture. “You obviously weren’t listening earlier when I told you I hated being with someone else. That I puked my brains out afterward.”
“If I yelled out the wrong person’s name, I would’ve felt badly about it, too.”
My pacification only seems to ruffle his feathers. He shakes me a bit in his grasp. “You’re still not hearing me, Evie. I didn’t throw up because I thought I hurt Julie’s feelings. I was disgusted with myself for letting my body overrule my heart. Yeah, I came, and you know what? It was an automatic thing I didn’t enjoy. I got no pleasure from it. That’s what I’m trying to make you understand. I did what you begged me to do and I proved you wrong.”
Of all the times in my life I’ve felt reduced to the smallest, most pathetic speck of dust, none of those compare to now. Even when I believe I’m being selfless, I’m not. How am I supposed to know whether anything I do is right or wrong anymore? What’s the point?
“Just…” Rob heaves a deep breath. “We’re going in circles and nothing’s getting accomplished. Let’s start over.”
I peek out from my hiding spot. “Start over how?”
He pulls his lips in between his teeth, then releases them almost like he’s ripping off a bandage from his mouth. “Let’s start with today. I hated today. It reminded me of all the things we never got to have. How did you feel about the wedding and reception? And…” He squeezes me. “Don’t lie to me.”
Lying didn’t change anything, anyway. I have nothing left to lose with the truth. “I had a nice time today, in spite of the way you treated me. Seeing Alyssa and Jeremy so happy made me feel like love isn’t a fairy tale. It’s just not the ending to my story.”
Rob closes his eyes briefly. “And how do you think I treated you today?”
“You completely ignored me. Spent the entire day flirting with Lydia.” That’s not even my perspective talking. It’s a fact.
“I spent the entire day thinking of you and using Lydia as a distraction.” He grimaces as the words leave his mouth.
That doesn’t make me feel any better. “Using people isn’t like you, Rob.”
“I do a lot of shit now that isn’t really me. Without you, I don’t feel like me at all.”
That’s too much pressure. “I can’t be the reason you do the right thing. You were a good person before you ever met me, or I never would have felt attracted to you to begin with. I don’t want to be your excuse for not being yourself.”
“I know,” he hedges. “It’s like I forgot how to be myself. You were the piece of my life that kept me grounded, kept me sane. But, I’m struggling to even have a conversation with you. It’s like I don’t remember how to function, like I’m lost in a fog I can’t find my way out of. I don’t know how to treat you anymore, because other than your request that I get my life together, I don’t know what you want from me anymore. You said tonight you wanted to move on, and…I know I’m no good for you. I’ve been doing what you asked of me, but I don’t think inserting myself into your life again is a good idea, either. I’m doing my best to keep my distance while we see this deal through, but it’s…hard.”
“I don’t want you to keep your distance,” I blurt. “I was kind of hoping we could at least salvage our friendship.”
If that doesn’t make me a masochist of the highest order, I don’t know what does.
Rob relaxes his head a bit more against the pillow. “Okay. That’s…good to know.”
We stare at each other for a few minutes in silence as the world continues to pass on around us. For me, at least, time feels frozen. Like this moment will be important someday, but I don’t yet know how.
Rob cracks under the pressure of quiet first. “Why did you really ask me to bring you back to my hotel room tonight?”
I swallow down a returning sensation of nausea. “I was on a mission to get pretty drunk in the hopes of ignoring your presence, too. I didn’t want to be sad on Jeremy and Alyssa’s big day. Alex and I were talking. He said something about me having power. I said I didn’t have any. He used me getting you here as an example. I maintained it’s your uncanny ability to pity me as the reason why you always jump when I snap my fingers. He said that wasn’t true, and I needed to find out for myself before I could move on and let the past go. Or something to that effect. Anyway, that’s it. That’s the gist of how we got here.”
Rob tries so hard to keep his face expressionless, but fails spectacularly. After several minutes of fumbling for words and a few deep breaths, he finally responds. “I don’t pity you. Never have. If anything, I pitied myself over the years. Gorgeous girl is a confident, intelligent, amazing person? I’m in love. I have no idea what to say to her or how to make her notice me? Well, I suck. Might as well not even try. Girlfriend gets assaulted? She pushes forward like a fucking warrior. I let it happen? Boo hoo, poor boyfriend. Run away and hide like the coward I am. The list goes on and on, but you get the idea.”
Well, that’s no surprise. Rob’s always felt guilty for things he couldn’t control, and in some ways, has a poorer self-image than I do.
But, he’s extending an olive branch tonight. His suggestion to start over, his easy acceptance to still be friends…I can’t let that go. “Why did you agree to bring me back to your hotel room tonight?”
He coughs out a little laugh, his cheeks pinking. “Well, uh…I was kind of hoping you would stay with me all night, and I could actually get some sleep.”
All I can do is blink at him in confusion. “You wanted to…sleep?”
“Yeah.”
Is all the sex wearing him out? I guess it might be like anything else a person gets sick of after indulging too often. I wouldn’t know, though.
Rob caresses my cheek in that old, familiar way before brushing my crazy hair off my forehead. “I was okay when you were living with Mike at State. We didn’t share the same bed anymore, but I knew where you were. I knew he’d keep you safe. Ever since you moved to New York, though, I can’t sleep for more than a few hours at a time. At any given moment, I have no idea where you are, what’s going on in your life, and it drives me fucking crazy.”
My mind cannot process his admissions. All this time I believed he was ignoring me, but if I take his words at face value, he’s been thinking of me as often as I think of him.
“I wake up under my bed every morning,” I admit. If this has become a night for confessions, might as well get them all over with.
“The closet’s too small to sleep in?” Rob guesses.
“No. My apartment is a studio. There is no closet.”
He frowns even as he slowly nods his head against the pillow. “Some nights the only way I could get back to sleep was honestly…hoping a better man than me was holding you, making you feel loved and safe.”
Just like I imagine him with other women who give him everything I can’t. “I kind of…stalked you during the season to keep tabs on you. I wanted to make sure you were doing okay.”
A soft smile brings out his dimple. God help me, but he’s beautiful. “I sort of guessed you might still be my number one fan when I saw that tattoo. But, I don’t deserve that kind of devotion from you. Hell, I don’t deserve to be holding you in my arms in this bed right now.” His expression turns serious. “I’ll never ask for your forgiveness. I destroyed the best part of my life, and every ounce of suffering I’ve experienced since that night is justified.”
I shouldn’t do it, but my hand has a mind of its own. Reaching out to touch his face, stubble scratches against my palm in an almost soothingly familiar way. “I don’t ever want you to suffer. And you can’t ask for forgiveness, anyway.”
“I don’t expect you to ever give it,” is his immediate response.
“I can’t give it because there’s nothing to forgive. If anything, I should be begging for your forgiveness.” And maybe that’s another thing weighing me down. How can I possibly move forward with my life, knowing how many different ways I’ve done wrong by this man? If I can’t find redemption for sacrificing our relationship, then maybe I can seek absolution for all my sins against him. “There are things you still don’t know, things I need to tell you.”
“Ssh.” He places a gentle kiss on my forehead. It’s not lust-driven but not placating, either. The sensation of his lips lingering a heartbeat too long against my skin spreads warmth throughout my body, thawing away the isolation of the past year without him as even a friend. “There are so many things I need to tell you, too. Just…not tonight.”
“Why not tonight? We’ve been confessing all sorts of things to each other.”
“And I don’t know about you, but I’m still trying to wrap my head around some of them.” He pulls back enough to gaze into my eyes, an expression of exhaustion settling on his handsome face. He heaves a deep sigh which moves from his body to mine. “It’s been a long day, but I never had any hope when I woke up this morning of it ending like this. I don’t want to do or say anything to jinx it. So, for now, just know this…”
He seems to need a few moments to gather his courage, so I wait, silent, giving him what he needs. Something I’ve always tried to do, but apparently, never succeeded in.
How ironic he feels the same way.
“I did what you asked of me, even though I shouldn’t have. I proved you wrong, and in the same instant, drove a wedge between us forever. I believed your lies, I cheated on my wife, and not only did I not enjoy it, but I will never forgive myself for it. I’ve been waiting every day since we moved to opposite ends of the country to be served with divorce papers. Instead, for reasons I will never understand, you showed up in California, told me to get my shit together and gave me a hell of a good reason to do it. When I made that deal with you, I didn’t give a damn about myself, but there was no way I was going to let you flush your life down the toilet without a fight. My only motivation was making sure you gave yourself a chance to have everything you deserve.
“And I went into that deal knowing you sure as hell deserve better than me. But, today was hard, Evie. It was fucking hard watching our friends enjoy everything we were supposed to have. It was hard, watching you smile, laugh, dance, and look more gorgeous than any mere mortal should be able to…all without me. When you asked me to bring you back to my room, my first instinct was to resist. I’ve been doing my best to keep my distance. But, then it occurred to me you were asking me because you trusted me. And I couldn’t refuse that. It’s your choice to trust me. Even if it makes zero sense to me, I can’t, and would never try, to control how you feel or what you want.”
I can’t help but smirk at his carefully-delivered explanations, even as tears blur my vision. “Is there a particular reason you’re rehashing everything we’ve already talked about? I know you said we were spinning in circles without accomplishing anything, but I’m not sure a summary is really moving things forward.”
Rob cups my cheek, swiping away stray tears with his thumb. “I figured it all bears repeating since not only are you probably still somewhat drunk, but you have this nasty habit of not hearing me when I tell you things.”
I’m actually completely sober now, but I don’t get a chance to tell him so before he presses on.
“Seeing that tattoo on your hip tonight might be a game changer; it might not. Just because I feel a certain way about it doesn’t mean you do. I don’t know if it makes a damn bit of difference you’ve slept with someone else.” He squeezes his eyes shut, swallowing like he might be sick. “But, it matters. To me, it matters. I don’t…I don’t even know all the hows or whys of those two things yet, but I know they’re important. You don’t owe me an explanation, no matter how much I beg. I just…thank you for being here tonight. Thank you, after everything I put you through, for still wanting to be my friend.”
It might not have been the admissions of his amazing life without me I wanted to hear, but my heart squeezes painfully in my chest. I’m left with not knowing how to respond, not knowing what to say. Everything I do turns out wrong, anyway.
I suppose the least I can give him are answers to his burning questions. “Rob, I…”
He places a hand over my mouth. “Don’t. If you wanted to tell me, you would have. I had no right to ask in the first place.”
I nod until he relents his hold. For now, I’ll bite my tongue. But, before this deal runs its course, I’ll tell him everything. Whether he wants to hear it or not, some things need to be said.
We both have a boatload of regrets for the things we’ve already done to each other. How much more guilt would we have for the things we don’t do or say before time runs out?
Rob sighs, but seems to relax like getting that off his chest has already lightened his load. “Last chance to change your mind about staying with me. Once I pass out, I guarantee I’m going to sleep for at least twelve hours. I can muster up the energy to take you home if you want, though.”
“What time is check out in the morning? What about your flight?”
He pins me with an unamused glare. “Staying or going?”
If he needs sleep, I can’t tell him no. “Staying. How can I turn down the ultimate best friend sleepover?”
His dimple makes another appearance as he smirks, then yawns. “Is that what we’re calling these coordinating tattoos now? Best friend stamps?”
“Well, that’s why I had mine done on my hip. I didn’t want anyone questioning the significance if it was inked on the small of my back.”
His laughter rumbles through me before he gathers me closer to his chest, wraps his leg over my hip, and tucks my head under his chin.
Just like we used to sleep together.
Another yawn from his mouth breaks the silence. “You will forever be my favorite smartass, Evie Falls. And, to answer your questions, I’ll pay for another day at the hotel and catch another flight if it comes to that. Unless the building is on fire, don’t wake me for anything else.”
“What if I have to pee?” I whisper into the musky skin at the base of his neck. The only way I’m going to distract myself from drooling all over him is with humor.
“Did you know that’s a kink?”
“What the hell?”
“Swear to God,” he mumbles into the top of my hair. “Heard about it in the locker room this season. I’m ninety-nine percent sure I could never get into that, so please, feel free to not piss all over the both of us in the middle of the night.”
I pinch his waist until he squirms, letting loose a deep, sleepy laugh that only makes my tongue grow heavier with wanting to lick him. “How am I supposed to have a bathroom break with your giant Superjock limbs holding me hostage?”
The moment the words leave my mouth, I hear everything in them I didn’t really mean.
And Rob does, too, judging by the way he stiffens. Still, he doesn’t loosen his hold. Instead, he ducks his head until we’re eye to eye before dusting my lips with a faint kiss. “I’ll let you go when you need me to. As long as you promise to come back.”
Before I can decide if there’s deeper meaning in his response, he resituates us. “But, if you’ve discovered you’re into kinky piss play, then don’t let my hang-ups stop you, either. I’ll deal with it.”
I laugh until tears slide down my cheeks. Once Rob’s soft snores reach my ears and his limbs grow heavy on top of me, I cry until I can’t anymore.
This life might not be what either of us imagined once upon a time, but maybe, just maybe, we’ll be okay.
And Rob’s right.
For tonight, that’s enough.