Mess with Me by Nicole Helm (25)

Chapter Twenty-Five

Sam woke up the next morning, sore from the impromptu rock climb up the mountain, on top of all his excursions yesterday and the punishing paces he’d been putting himself through.

Added to physical soreness, he’d slept for shit and tossed and turned. There’d been so much on his mind, ways to try to get through to Hayley and understand what it was that set her off. But he couldn’t work it out, and the bottom line was he needed her to tell him. To be willing to tell him.

The problem with isolating himself for so long was that he didn’t know how to get people to do things for him. He was too rusty with his people skills to charm or convince someone to give him information they didn’t want to give.

He tried to think of how Hayley had pried him out of his tight outer shell, but he couldn’t think of anything she’d done except . . . Well, she’d pushed. She’d stood up to him when he’d wanted to run away or he’d told her to go.

Should he have stayed? Should he have pushed?

He hated this indecision, this fear of making a wrong move. Sam pushed out of his bed. Tori had already moved out, which meant the cabin was empty again. While it had originally taken some getting used to having someone in his space, he already missed the feeling that he wasn’t alone.

Not that he wanted Tori in his cabin anymore, but someone. Someone with black springy curls, miles of light brown skin, and golden-hazel eyes that made him think love was possible.

He grumbled through getting dressed. He’d promised himself after the rock climbing last night that he wouldn’t be a grumpy ass today, but it was bubbling up inside of him. Until he knew how to fix things with Hayley, he didn’t know how not to be a grumpy ass.

Not having her, and knowing she was upset and hurt but didn’t want him around was like constantly walking around on sandpaper. Abrasive and painful and just shitty.

He moved from getting dressed to the task of making breakfast. Whether he figured out what to do with Hayley or not, he had things to do. A kayaking trip at one, and Brandon had asked him to possibly take his morning hike.

Things to do, work to do. He felt as disjointed as he ever had. Without Hayley greeting him with that careful smile that had grown braver every morning, things just weren’t as bright.

He made his oatmeal, and then decided to eat it on the porch. The sun was beginning to rise, and Sam loved this gray dawn and the way it held so much promise. The way it reminded him that life kept going on, even when he didn’t want it to.

For years, that had felt like a punishment or some sort of cruel karmic joke, but now . . . Even with things unsure with Hayley, now dawn felt like a promise.

Like a legend coming true. Mountains could heal. He almost believed it.

He situated himself on the little chair on the porch and ate his oatmeal as he listened to the woodland animals move around in the early morning.

Yeah, today was going to have to be the day. One way or another, today he was going to approach Hayley and make her tell him what had scared her, or hurt her, or whatever it was that he’d seen in her eyes that night. He wasn’t waiting anymore. He wasn’t giving her space anymore.

That was when he heard the car. It was silly to get his hopes up that it was Hayley, but he could tell the difference between a Jeep or a truck or a car. He could tell the difference between a functioning car and Hayley’s car.

Unless someone else was driving up in their ancient piece of shit, that was Hayley.

Coming to him.

He knew he should stay where he was, but he couldn’t help himself. He set the bowl on the railing of the porch and hurried around the cabin. He started striding across his yard, determined to meet her in the pathway. Determined to—

And then she appeared. Colorful and gorgeous and a little out of breath. Here. Standing in his yard, just a few feet away from where he’d stopped.

“Good morning,” she offered.

“Good morning,” he returned, stupidly. Lamely.

“So, I’ve, uh, decided something.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“I’m going to rewind the past six days and pretend that none of it ever happened.”

“I’m going to need a complete breakdown of the hours that you want to erase.”

She took a step toward him, reaching out tentatively to rest her fingertips on his chest. He looked down at the contact, wishing he could simply wrap his hand around her hand, pull her into him, and forget everything.

But if they forgot everything now, it would only resurface. He hadn’t dealt with his pain or his guilt for years, but it had always been there. It had been an unfortunate and unwieldy realization that he couldn’t ever make it go away. He could only accept it and deal with it.

Which meant they had to do the same.

“That’s not going to work, is it?” Those golden-hazel eyes looked up at him somewhat plaintively. God, he’d missed this woman who’d brought him out of all that crap, made him face the world, had made him want to.

“Not if you want this to be something.”

“I do. I do want it to be something. I love you, Sam. And I know I freaked out, but that doesn’t change love. Not for me.”

“Not for me either, Hayley.”

“So, I guess that means we have to talk.”

“Undoubtedly. And since that need started with you kicking me out of your apartment, I think talking has to start with you.”

She bit her lip and frowned. He could tell she hadn’t slept much. She looked tired and there was a gray tint to her usually vibrant brown skin.

This whole thing hadn’t been any easier for her than it had been for him. Maybe it made him a selfish asshole, but he was glad. Because easy would mean it didn’t matter the way it needed to. He was certain of that.

“You know how, over the past couple months, you sort of gradually opened up, and slowly changed and accepted the whole living amongst the living again?”

“Yes, I guess that’s how it went.”

Her fingers curled in the fabric of his shirt, and he covered it with his own. To comfort, to protect, to reassure and, most of all, to love.

“My whole life has been something of the opposite. It has been pushing down all of those things that I didn’t want to face and pretending they weren’t there. You never pretended your issues didn’t exist. You hid away, but it wasn’t pretending. It was hiding, but it wasn’t faking it.”

She took a deep, shaky breath, and then she brought her other hand to his chest, curling her fingers there too. Holding on to him, finding some courage there, he thought.

She met his gaze, looking hurt and sad, but not nearly as lost or panicked as the other day.

“All I’ve done is fake it. Forever. Pretend, and try to give other people what they wanted, and then convince myself I was on some sort of righteous path by finally looking for what I wanted. But it wasn’t righteous, because I still hadn’t dealt with all of those things that I pushed down for so long. So instead of slowly opening up like you did, it was more like a volcano getting ready to erupt. Every little thing piled on and on, until I had no choice but to . . . well, erupt.”

He skimmed his fingertips over her cheek, because he couldn’t stand to not touch her as she was so bravely explaining herself to him. Before this moment, he might not have fully understood how much she, in her own way, had kept hidden and walked away when things were uncomfortable.

She’d been this wonderful, warm woman who’d stood up to him and made him face his fears, but he’d missed the fear that bubbled under the surface of her life.

“I’m sorry I didn’t see it.”

Hayley shook her head and swallowed. Tears were in her eyes, but she seemed determined to fight them. Always so determined, always such a fighter. She humbled him, even when she was the one supposed to be apologizing.

“You shouldn’t be sorry, because I should have been the one to say it. I hate . . .” She paused, clearly upset. “I hate having to show those things inside of me that I don’t like, because I’m always so afraid that someone else won’t like it either. And that they’d hide me away. I never told you . . . When you wanted to keep us a secret from Brandon and Will, it hit a tender spot I hadn’t told you about. That isn’t your fault. I should have explained, but it was just so raw. Because I’d never dealt with it.”

Sam pulled her into a hug then, and she kept her fingers curled in his shirt, but she leaned her head against him.

“So, let’s deal with it. Here and now, because I’m not letting you walk out of here until we do.”

* * *

She’d screwed up her courage all damn night, but it was failing. In Sam’s warm embrace, holding on to him for dear life, the last thing she wanted to do was explain to him how foolish she’d been.

But there wasn’t a choice, was there? And even in the worst-case scenario, where Sam couldn’t accept her for all her hang-ups, it wasn’t as if she’d be alone. She had family, people who cared. Both here and back in Aurora. She had so very much, it was stupid to be afraid of losing.

“When I was a little girl, and my mom started dating, before she married my stepdad, she would . . . Well, it would be . . .” Hayley took a deep breath, and burrowed deeper into Sam. So big and strong and willing to change.

Willing to attribute that change to her. It was big. It was huge. “She didn’t want the guys she was dating to know she had a daughter. So, if she couldn’t find a sitter who would take me to their house, she’d pretend I was her niece. I know she didn’t mean to make me feel the way it felt. I talked to her about it last night. All of it, really, and I see now that we all interpret our own meaning of how things are. But secrets are a sore spot to me, because I always felt ashamed of being this thing she had to hide.”

Sam pulled—nearly jerked—her away from his chest, and she was taken aback by how quickly she was torn from the warm cocoon she’d buried herself in.

But his hands came to her cheeks, cupping her face, forcing her to look up at him. The trees, the mountains, the sky—it all made a brilliant background behind him, and yet nothing matched the blue of his eyes, the warmth of his hands.

“I never wanted to hide you. I didn’t want you to feel weird about Brandon and Will. I wanted to give you more time to solidify your relationship with them. I didn’t want to get in the way of anything you were building there.”

She could barely stand to look in those blazing blue eyes. He wasn’t angry exactly, but hurt—hurt that he’d hurt her, and she didn’t want him to feel that. This was on her. Her issues.

“I think I’ve always assumed everyone had it more together than me, and I had to pretend like I knew what they knew, and felt what they felt. And then I met you . . .”

“Who was so clearly not more together than you.”

She pressed her lips together, trying not to smile. “I mean, I think that was part of what made it easier to talk to you, to stand up to you. But it isn’t what made me fall in love with you.”

“Then what was?”

“The way you started putting yourself out there. The way you treated me—even when you were being grumpy, I was always a person. Not someone to protect or hide or anything. Just me.”

“You know what’s funny?” He stroked her cheek again, everything soft and wonderful in his eyes. “I fell in love with you for something like the same reason. You didn’t shy away, you weren’t too scared or unsure to poke at all those old wounds that needed poking. You saw me, the man underneath all the walls and tragedy, and how could I not love that woman?”

“Sam . . .” How did he get so good with words? It wasn’t fair. Hers were so very hard to find. She just wanted to hold him and kiss him and love him without putting it into words.

“I love you, Hayley, I do, but I’m thinking . . . Maybe we should start over?”

She frowned at him. “Start over?”

“Step back and build from square one. A date. Hikes together that are for talking, not working. Really dig in and get to know each other. Build something.”

“But what about sex?”

Sam barked out a laugh and suddenly she was crushed against his chest again. Which was a wonderful place to be.

“We’ll figure sex out.”

“Right now?” she asked a little too hopefully.

She thought he was trying to muster a disapproving look, but it didn’t quite work, so she flashed a smile at him. “You wait twenty-four years to have it, once you do, you’re ready to replicate the process a few times to really figure it all out.”

His lip quirked at that, but then he grew serious. “I told Will and Brandon.”

“Oh.” It surprised her that he would without knowing why she didn’t like secrets. And it worried her, because as much as she’d fallen in love with Sam, she wanted the chance at a relationship with Will and Brandon.

“They took it okay, I think. But I thought you should know. That they know. I never meant to keep it from them for always. It really wasn’t about you in the sense you thought it was.”

“Thank you. Really. I needed to hear that.” Hear it. Believe it. She took a deep breath and let it out. No more secrets. Not about her, and not within her.

“And you promise to tell me what it is you need to hear, before you cry or kick me out?”

She nodded, feeling a little teary all over again. “If you promise to do the same.”

“I promise,” he said emphatically.

It was an excellent place to start, that promise. To open up, to heal side by side and hand in hand. Together.

“Then I promise too.” She would be happy to make a million promises to this man, in the name of love, but she needed to give him more. To be as brave as he’d been when he’d stepped back into living.

“I was so afraid before I met you, Sam. I hid everything. What I wanted, what I felt, and at first I thought standing up to you was easy because you didn’t matter, or because you were a mess, but I realize that wasn’t it at all. Talking to you was easy because I’d found a safe place I didn’t doubt. You were strong and sturdy and I knew no matter how much I pushed, you wouldn’t break. I needed that.”

He skimmed a finger across her cheek. “And I needed all of those pushes. From you. Only you.”

“I don’t want to start over, Sam. I want to keep going from right here. Pushing. Standing strong. Loving each other. That’s what I want.” Because getting what she wanted was never just going to fall into her lap. She had to act, and she had to ask.

She tugged his mouth down to within a whisper of hers, meeting that warm blue gaze. “What do you want?”

“I want you,” he said resolutely, never breaking eye contact. “I want us.” Sam’s mouth touched hers, gentle and sweet and hers.

Hayley Winthrop had come to Gracely in a search for belonging, but what she’d found was so much bigger and better than that. She’d found her courage. She’d found her life’s work. She’d found herself.

Best of all, she’d found a man who’d helped her discover it all while she’d helped him shape a new life for himself, one of healing and hope.

Here, in the shadow of magical mountains worthy of their legends, they had shaped each other, and that was the kind of foundation that legends were made of.