Present
From the moment my eyes locked onto his, my night altered completely. I was having fun, feeling good, feeling carefree, happy, and fulfilled—despite the fact that my mom called only an hour before the party began and kindly reminded me that I need to figure out some areas of my life, namely my situation with Richard. For some reason, Paxton Luke is a harsher reminder of that.
I watched as he hugged Laney, gazed at his youthful smile, his teasing dark green eyes. He looked the same, but there was something in the way he held himself that had me wondering how he has changed. I was glad for the distraction when Monica and Lauren interrupted my thoughts to wish me a happy birthday. It was the perfect opportunity to put some distance between me and this ghost from my past.
As I looked out over the city, I thought about the life I’ve made for myself, the life Laney and I worked hard to have here, making it through college with honors, saving money, and scraping by so we could buy our own apartments. I admired the way the lights of the city were shining across the bay. It wasn’t lost on me how lucky I am to be where I am at my age, to have the life I’m living. I’m successful in every area of my life except one. I have the job I want. I live in one of the most beautiful cities in the country, close to my best friend. I have everything. I even have a—
Before I could analyze my life any further, his breath was against my skin and his voice was in my ear. Paxton didn’t realize how close he came to becoming impotent—I wasn’t the top student in my self-defense class for no reason. Instead, I let him hold me, touch me, tease me in the way he always has, in a way that affects me in a way I never revealed to him.
I wasn’t going to let him ruin my birthday. I walked away and didn’t speak to him the rest of the night.
That doesn’t mean I didn’t think about him. I still saw him lurking. I saw him watching me from across the room, watching me laugh and drink champagne with my friends. I felt him. I hate the effect he still has on me after all these years. Even though I write about young love in my books, no one really falls in love at seven years old.
Exhausted by the night and the effects of the significant amount of alcohol I’ve had, I look up and find him staring at me. The partygoers are dwindling and I assume Pax is leaving because he just lifted his hand in a tiny wave. Relief washes over me. I haven’t been able to breathe easily all night, and I know once he’s gone I will be able to exhale. I don’t want to feel the things he makes me feel.
Just as that thought crosses my mind, Richard’s hand slides around my middle, his lips touching the soft skin of my neck. I tilt my head to give him more access and at first, my eyes remain locked on Paxton’s. I see a flicker of something, but it disappears before I can decipher it.
The kisses Richard is peppering up my neck tickle, and I’m unable to hold back my smile. He is an attentive and kind lover. He’s been good for me. Is he the one? I don’t know.
When I glance back in Paxton’s direction, he’s still watching.
“It’s time for your birthday gift,” Richard whispers once he reaches my ear.
I can’t look at him any longer. I don’t understand him, so I turn in Richard’s embrace, hoping to forget he’s even here.
Cupping my face, Richard captures my mouth with his. His kiss is full of want and need. I accept it, hoping to drown out the world around us, the world Paxton Luke decided to walk back into, the little world I’ve spent time building a wall around, pretending he no longer exists.
Richard deepens the kiss. Paxton doesn’t exist. He doesn’t matter.
I repeat this to myself, just like I have for the last ten years.
I fiddle with the bracelet Richard gave me after our heavy make-out session on the balcony. It’s beautiful, and on any other night I would’ve given in to the lust and rewarded him for his kind gesture, but tonight hasn’t been any other night.
God dammit. I wasn’t supposed to feel this way tonight. I wasn’t meant to feel this way ever again. When I look up, I notice Richard laughing with two of the partners in Delaney’s marketing firm who he’s met on several occasions. His laugh is what attracted me to him in the first place. It made me feel something in the pit of my stomach, created a happy and heady feeling inside of me.
I wanted him to laugh at something I said. I wanted to laugh with him. I wanted to fall in love with him, so I tried my hardest to do just that. He became my person, maybe a crutch, someone I love being around even if he doesn’t make my stomach feel like it’s full of butterflies every time he touches me. I entered into a comfortable and uncomplicated relationship with Richard, one that worked for us both. He doesn’t want to be attached, he only asks for loyalty. It was something I could give and have on and off for years. It took us some time to figure it all out, but we did and it’s worked for us, for the most part.
“You have that look again,” Laney says from behind me. She puts her hand on my shoulder and gives me a nudge. “Why do you have that look, Cass? I thought you were happy. I thought things were right this time.” She takes a seat across from me, resting her chin in her hands.
I try to ignore her comment. “You look drunk.”
“Oh no you don’t,” Laney declares, waving her finger at me. I laugh. She’s not drunk, but she’s definitely feeling really good. “You have your look…the look, and I want to know why.”
“What look?” I ask her, trying to avoid this conversation for as long as I can.
Delaney continues waving her finger from side to side, rolling her eyes at me. “No, no, no, little Dr. Lovegood, you know exactly what look I’m referring to!”
I stare at Delaney dead in the eye. She doesn’t flinch. Why and how does she see things even when she is inebriated? It boggles my mind how she does it, but she has known me since we were seven years old. She knows my moods, how I work, and what my fears and wants are…at least most of them. The bottom line is I’m not getting out of this conversation unless there’s a sudden earthquake. I hold my breath, bracing for my unspoken wish. Nothing.
Fine, Mother Nature, don’t help me. See if I put all of these wine bottles in the recycling tonight.
I glance away from Delaney and toward Richard. He’s still in the midst of a conversation with the same guys as before, but this time he notices me watching him. He lifts his hand in a wave and smiles brightly in my direction. I raise my hand slightly, waving back. Laney’s right. I’ve been wondering why Richard and I keep this thing going between us when it’s going nowhere. We’re using one another to pass the time, but why? When I look at him now, I wish I could love him, but I can’t, no matter how hard I’ve tried. I know why I’ve been doing it, but why is he? Is it really as simple as the fact that I don’t ask questions or pressure him for anything more than what we have right now—an intimacy and friendship where we can fulfill our sexual needs with someone we can trust?
“God dammit, Cassandra,” Delaney scolds. “You’re about to do it again.” She points her finger in my direction. “This. This is what I meant by the look on your face. It’s so easy to read you. You are about to start questioning your whole messed-up relationship with Richard! If it’s not you then it’s him. Either you get weird or he acts like a dick. I can’t keep up. Five years of this shit is exhausting. One of you just needs to figure out this doesn’t work anymore. You want more and it’s not with him. It never has been with him.”
“No!” I shout, startling even myself. I allow my eyes to roam around us to see if anyone noticed my outburst then turn my attention back to Delaney. “No,” I state more calmly and firmly.
She doesn’t try to hide the fact that she doesn’t believe me when she rolls her eyes.
“One day your eyes are going to stick in the back of your head,” I tell her. She doesn’t laugh. She only shakes her head from side to side in a silent scolding.
“I don’t believe you, Cass, but I also won’t push you. I’m just begging you to take your romantic writer’s heart’s advice and see the possibility of happiness with Richard you saw the night you met him, or don’t. You deserve happiness, in whatever form you choose, but make it what you really want. I’ve watched you do this too many times.” She stands, swaying a little, and then she’s suddenly pointing at me again. “Don’t even say a word. Don’t use the fact that I’m tipsy as a way out of listening to what I just told you.”
I can’t help the bark of laughter that escapes me. God, I love her. I watch her sway in the direction of her bedroom before she swivels around to face me. “Oh, and happy twenty-sixth, Cass! I love you, always have and always will. Be happy.” Grinning ear to ear, she swings back around and stumbles the rest of the way to her room.
Watching her, I smile, thinking about how much I adore her.
Delaney does know me, so is she right about this? Do I sabotage myself? If so, why? How can I be so in love with the idea of love but never seem to get it right? I know why, and maybe she sees it too and wants me to just admit to the reason myself. It’s because I can’t shake the feelings I’ve tried to pretend don’t exist.
It was so much easier before tonight and before Paxton. He just opened the door and allowed doubt back into my life.