A Flawed Heart (23 page)

“I’m fine. Don’t be mad at Lydia, she was just kidding
around.”

He pulls me into his chest and massages the swollen area. “If
anything ever happened to you, I don’t know what I’d fucking do.” His voice
cracks as he
speaks,
and I can hear the fear in his
words. “Let’s go home.”

We arrive at Jason’s around two in the morning, after a long
walk home. Jason obsessively asked if I was okay, and insisted on supporting my
weight. I’m fine, considering I fell out of a tree. I’m suffering from dry
mouth and a headache, which is probably due to being hung-over, rather than the
fall. Jason lays me in his bed and holds an ice pack to my head. We’re both in
nothing but underwear, the room lit only by a small candle. My headache fades
once I’m in Jason’s pillow covered bed.

“I can’t remember what it was like to not have you in my
arms. I feel like I’ll never be able to sleep without you again.”

“Did you sleep with a teddy bear when you were little?” I
ask.

“Shut up, I’m serious. You’re stuck with me. I hope that’s
all right with you.”

I run my hand across the sculpted muscle of his chest. “I
think saying
you’re
stuck with
me
, is more like it, but it’s
perfectly fine with me.
More than fine.”

We lie together in silence. The minutes tick by. Jason’s
shallow, even breaths tell me that he’s dozed off. I should feel tired. I need
to get some sleep since I have work tomorrow, but I’m wide-awake. I sigh into
his chest and the feel of my breath on his skin wakes him from his doze.

“What? What’s the matter, babe? Can I get you something?”

“No, I’m fine. I just can’t sleep.”

“You can’t sleep?
Hmmm.
Maybe I can
help you with that. How about I sing you a lullaby?”

I look up at him and see that he’s completely serious. “That
would be really nice, actually.”

He slips out from under me and walks to his keyboard. The
streetlight casts a glow on his skin and a shadow chases across his face. He
looks lonely and sad. I’m reminded of the pain he carries with him, the pain
that only comes out when he plays—his memories of loss and guilt. He looks the
way he did the night I first saw him at Alexa’s. He’s changed so much since
then, but the dark parts of him are still there—lingering just below the
surface. He takes a breath and begins to play a lullaby. The sorrowful and
haunting notes slip inside my head, and as I fall asleep the image of Jason
alone at his piano lingers in my mind’s eye.

Chapter Twelve

~Jason~

“I don’t see what the big fucking deal is.” I mumble into
the refrigerator as I rummage around, looking for eggs and butter.

My sister sits at the kitchen table in the early morning
light, tapping her foot and drinking an oversized mug of coffee. Kat is still
passed out on the sofa where they crashed last night. Even though my back is to
Lydia, I sense the judgmental look on her face.

“Really, Jason?
You
and Claire moving in together?
No. That’s not a big deal at all. You’re
my brother and she’s my roommate.”

“I don’t need your sarcastic shit here, Lydia. I’m not
saying she should
live
here, I’m just
asking her to keep some of her stuff here. And keep your voice down, she’s
still asleep. I’m talking to you about this because I want you to be cool with
it.”

“
Fine.
I’m
cool with it. But do you think
Claire is going to be?”

“I don’t know. Why the fuck wouldn’t she be?” I grab a
frying pan from the cupboard and blast the burner, slapping a spoonful of
butter into it.

“What brought this on anyway?”

Well, Lydia, after I sang her a fucking lullaby last
night, I watched her sleep and realized I can’t fucking live without her.

“I don’t know. It just feels right. I know she feels it,
too. What’s wrong with wanting to feel good all the time, to be together as
much as possible?”

“Don’t you think that maybe you’re moving a little bit fast?
I mean, you guys have only been together for like a month. It’s no secret that
you’re intense, but one month?”

“So fucking what? What the fuck difference does that make?”
I say, searching through various drawers for something to stir the eggs with.

“
Have you told
her that you’re in love with her?”

“Yeah.
I told her this weekend. She
feels the same. Why is it so hard to believe that she might actually
want
to stay here with me?”

She exhales with exasperation. “I just…I mean it would be
awesome if she wanted to.”

“You think she’s
gonna
freak out?”
I crack an egg and end up getting a huge chunk of shell in the bowl. “Fuck!”

“Do you need me to do that for you? Why the hell are you
making scrambled eggs anyway? You hate eggs.”

“Claire likes them. They’re for her.”

“Wow, she’s really got a hold on you if you’re cooking.”

She comes up behind me, grabs a spoon, and scoops the broken
shell out of the yolk. I turn to look at her for the first time during our
conversation.

“She just…she makes me
better
.”

“Who are you, and what have you done with my brother?”

I look into my sister’s eyes and we speak without words, as
only a brother and sister can.

She sighs. “Okay. You should do it. Ask her. I think it
would be great.” She smiles and places her tiny hand on my shoulder.

I return my attention to Claire’s breakfast, stirring the
eggs and dropping them in the pan.

“And, um…I was kind of thinking that I would bring her to
mom’s birthday this year.”

Lydia’s mouth drops open and she gasps. “Wait. What? Jason,
you haven’t been to see mom since the burial.”

“I know that. I want to go this year, and I want to bring
Claire.”

“
Jay, that
would make Dad so happy.
And me too.
I think that would just be
so
great.” I pull her into me and I feel
her tears on my chest.

“If I have Claire there, it won’t be as hard for me,” I
admit.

She wipes her eyes and puts a smile on her face. “Okay. I’ve
gotta
go. We can talk more
later…
and
don’t burn those eggs. Kat! Let’s go. Love you, brother.”

“Love you too.”

The door clicks shut, and I’m left alone in the kitchen. I
engage in a ridiculous battle with the stove, and eventually emerge triumphant,
with eggs and slightly burnt toast in hand. I carry Claire’s plate to my room
and find her still asleep. The sun slants across the bed, creating a narrow,
golden path. Her leg pokes out from under the covers and drapes across my side
of the bed. The smooth creaminess of her skin is barely distinguishable against
the pale sheets. Her blood-red toenails shine in the sunlight.

I put her food on the night table, sit down next to her, and
watch her sleep. Her angular shoulder blades gently
rise
and fall as she breathes. Smooth, brown hair cascades over half of her face. I
push it back and see the sweet pink of her cheeks. Her endless, soft eyelashes
rest against
them,
and her eyelids flutter as she
dreams. I touch the back of her head and feel the spot where she hit her head
last night. The swelling has gone down. She moans and rolls over. Her eyes
flutter open and I lean down and press my lips to her neck. I lick her soft,
salty skin and she giggles as I kiss the ticklish spot.

“Hey. What time is it?”

“It’s ten-thirty. I made you breakfast…if you’re hungry.”

“I’m starving, actually. That’s awesome. Thanks.”

I climb over her and lie back on the pillows beside her,
propped up on my elbow, watching her eat. I run my fingers up and down her bare
legs and feel her getting goose bumps.

"”How’s your head? How do you feel?” I ask.

“Just a little headache.
Nothing major.”

“I have rugby practice this afternoon, and then I was
gonna
work on some songs for the fest. You should come by
the space if you’re up to it.”

“Of course I’ll come by. What time is your practice?”

“Five. Lydia will be there. It’s at
McCaren
Park.”

She nibbles on her toast, trying not to get crumbs on the
bed. “This is delicious. Thank you for cooking for me.”

“No problem, baby. You can stay here again tonight if you’d
like. And maybe you want to keep some stuff here. I mean, so you don’t have to
keep going back to your place.”

“You mean like a toothbrush?”

“I mean, like…some clothes and shit.
If
you want.
I can make some room in my closet, or whatever.”

I study her face as she stares at her food, contemplating
what I’ve said. She chews slowly, and I
rake
my
fingers through my hair as I suffer through the seemingly infinite seconds of
silence awaiting her response. Her face becomes pale and she puts the plate on
the nightstand, and then turns toward me.

“Can we talk about this later? I’m
gonna
be late for work if I don’t get going.”

I feel my heart sink at what I can only assume is an excuse
to avoid the subject.
Maybe Lydia is
right and this is too much, too fast.
I leap off the bed and light a
cigarette.

“Why do we need to talk about this later? It’s really a yes
or no question. Either you want to or you don’t.” I hear my voice rise against
my will.

“Jason. Jesus, I—”

“You know what? Just fucking
forget
I said anything, all right?”

She stands. Her fists are balled and her cheeks are beet
red. “There’s no reason for you to get angry. I said we could talk about it
later.” She begins to grab her things from the floor.

“Whatever, Claire.
Don’t make lame
excuses. Forget I said anything.”

“Why are you being so nasty to me right now? I don’t deserve
this shit.”

She heads for the door. In her eyes I see hurt and
confusion. I turn my back to her and blow smoke out my open window.

She leaves without another word.

The second the front door slams shut, I know I fucked up. My
pride took over. The thought of Claire rejecting me made me insane. I shouldn’t
have flipped out on her like that, but it’s obvious to me that, if she doesn’t
even want to keep a toothbrush here, then she’s not
gonna
want to stay here. My dream of having her here with me, in my life, in my bed
every night—it’s all fucked. She doesn’t want it.

I watch as she disappears down the street.

I head to rugby practice in a horrible mood. I’m pissed, and
I don’t blame her for how she reacted. I’m not good enough for her, and she
knows it. I see Ben and a bunch of guys from the league stretching down on the
field.

Ben’s in a great mood, running drills and throwing the ball
around. I drop my gym bag by the bench, throw on my jersey, and pop in my mouth
guard.

“What up, bro? We’re about ready to get a scrum
goin
’.
You all right?
You don’t
look so good.”

“I’m fine.”

Across the field, I see Aidan and his boys warming up. I
haven’t seen him since the fight at Alexa’s.
He better stay the fuck away from me. Today is not the day to give me
shit.
I glance at the sideline and see a bunch of people sitting
on blankets, waiting to watch us practice. I scan the crowd looking for a
familiar face—but no Claire.

We link arms and begin the scrum. The opposite side gets the
ball first. They run it down field, and a maul begins. I link arms with Ben and
smash into someone. My shoulder burns, but it feels good to release some
aggression. We hit the ground and I stand up, looking down at the dude I
smashed. It’s Eli—one of Aidan’s boys.

“Maybe it’s your turn to have your fucking jaw broken,
Taylor?” He steps toward me with his chest out and I meet his advance.

“You here to defend your little bitch?
What’s the matter, he can’t
fucking
take care of
himself?” I shout at him, feeling my blood heat and my fist clench. Ben steps
up and pushes us back, separating us with his arms.

“Cut the shit. We’re not here for this.” I hear Ben speak,
but my eyes are locked on Eli.

I see movement on the sideline, and out of the corner of my
eye I make out Claire’s form where she stands with Lydia.
I step back from Eli, distracted and relieved by the fact that
Claire showed up for practice in spite of our fight this morning. Ben puts his
hand down and stares at me, shocked, as I back away.

“Just stay the fuck away from me, Eli.” I turn and walk to
the bench, determined to not act like any more of an ass in front of Claire.

Practice continues with minimal bullshit. I tackle a few
guys, scraping up my knees and chin. I’m covered in dirt and sweat by the time
we’re through. I grab a Gatorade and pack up my stuff. I look to the sideline
and see that Lydia and Claire are gone.

When I get home, I grab a cold beer and head to my room, not
bothering with a shower right away. I climb out onto the fire escape. The air
feels good on my sweaty skin. I smoke and drink and think about calling Claire.
What the fuck am I going to say? How
can I fix this?

Down on the street I see a girl half-running down the
sidewalk. It’s Claire.
I hear her
stomp up the stairs and throw my unlocked door open.

“Jason!”

I fumble through the window and come face to face with a
visibly furious Claire.
“Listen,”
she snaps, “I don’t know what that shit was about this morning, but don’t
ever
talk to me like that again.”