Beyond Repair (6 page)

“Because it’s sad,” she said. “Because it’s sad that this is
the way things are.”

He seemed to understand, however. He understood so well that
he didn’t even have to say anything in return. He just offered her the safe
little crook between his shoulder and his body, and when she pressed herself
into it he did the rest. His other arm came around her all strong and big and
good—like some kind of shelter against whatever terrible thing might be out
there.

And she rested in it gratefully until the pain died away.

She hadn’t realized how tired she was until she woke again
from a doze she didn’t remember sinking into. All she could recall was the heat
of his body and how firm yet soft his chest had felt against her cheek, and
then the next thing she knew it was lights out for the second time.

It made her wonder if he had some kind of sleeping drug
impregnated in his skin. Or maybe she just wasn’t used to being held…yeah, that
was probably it. The last time she’d had arms around her everything had still
been okay, so really it wasn’t a surprise that she let go whenever it happened
now.

She was glad of it, in truth. The night before had wiped her
out, and some of her limbs still weren’t working properly. They’d stiffened and
set themselves at funny angles, and it took her a good long while to work the
kinks out of them. She had to slowly ease her left leg into bending, and that
grinding metal-against-bone feeling happened when she did.

It was pretty bad.

But not half as awful as the sudden realization she had a
second later—Holden was missing from the space beside her. And if he was
missing from there, it probably didn’t mean he’d gone to get himself a drink or
some breakfast or a bathroom break.

It probably meant he’d freaked out and made a run for it.

She’d said too much earlier. She’d cried too weirdly. Now he
was off killing himself with cocaine in some seedy bar most likely, and it was
all her fault for being rubbish at comforting people.

“Hey, is that you I can hear creaking around?”

She didn’t like the way her heart thumped once against her
rib cage on suddenly hearing the sound of his voice.
Like it’s being
restarted
, she thought, then shook the idea away. It was far too intense
for this early in their semi-friendship—a second ago she’d been sure he’d flown
the coop.

Things needed to settle first, before she had all of these
strong feelings about him.

“Yeah, I’m awake. I don’t even know how I fell asleep
really,” she said, to the bathroom door. And then there was one awful moment of
silence, where she really let herself think—
He’s not actually in there
.
You’re just imagining him.

You needed someone, and so invented the most impossible
person ever.

“I’d guess it’s ’cause you were tired, honey. Oh, and maybe
my magical arms had something to do with it.”

Yeah, he was definitely the most impossible person ever. A
handsome movie star who echoed thoughts she’d just had and hugged her when she
needed to be hugged. Surely he couldn’t be real? And if he was, then why on
earth was he in her bathroom right now, splashing around in her tub?

That didn’t seem right, for someone like him.

She needed to check, to be sure.

“Are you…having a bath?”

There was a moment of silence—one which almost reeked of
mild embarrassment.

But he got over it fairly fast.

“Uh…yeah.”

“Is it weird if I find that weird?”

“I think it’d be weird if you didn’t. I’m some stranger,
soaking himself in your bathtub while you’re passed out on the bed. Sounds like
the start of a horrible Lifetime movie about a crazed hobo.”

She laughed, but had to correct him at the same time.

“You’re not some stranger. Or a hobo. And I wasn’t passed
out on the bed.”

“I’ll give you the first two, but not the last.”

“Passed out sounds like you slipped me a roofie then
stripped me naked. Come on. I went to sleep in your gently cradling arms.”

“So maybe my reward could be that I get to bask in your
tub?”

“You can totally bask in my tub, Bernie.”

“While you come in here and talk to me?”

That pulled her up short. She hadn’t realized that
acquiescing to one small thing without a thought would lead to this other
massive thing that didn’t make any sense. He wasn’t serious, was he? And if he
was, did that mean he was in the bath with all his clothes on?

Because otherwise…

“Why would you want me to do that?”

“I can hardly hear you, honey. Come on, come on in here.”

He had a point, about the hearing thing. But there was
another point he wasn’t really addressing. In fact, it kind of sounded as if he
was avoiding it—or maybe it wasn’t such a big deal to him? Yeah, maybe it was
only a big deal to her, and if she didn’t just go in she’d look like the
biggest idiot alive.

She’d look like someone who was imagining sex things when
they really weren’t there at all. Of course they weren’t there at all. How
could they be?

“Okay, I’m coming in.”

“Was that a warning?”

“Well, you know—I don’t want to startle you.”

“You think you’re going to startle me while shuffling in
here with your hand over your face like a shield?”

“I’m trying to be polite!”

“You look like a fool.”

She knew she did. She could see herself in the long mirror
that stood next to the sink, looking exactly as he’d described. One hand
crouched over the side of her face to block his half of the bathroom out. Body
moving backward into the room, in this tentative sort of manner. She had to
almost feel her way to the toilet on the opposite wall so she could sit, though
sitting wasn’t really any better. Sitting said
you’re staying here now with
him, in this little blue-tiled, too-warm cavern
.

“I should really put the light on.”

“No don’t, it’s nice,” he said, and it was. But there was
also something secretive and vaguely sensuous about the dimly lit atmosphere.
Everything seemed sort of soft focus, as though the heat from the tub had
melted away all corners and edges.

Or was it the heat from her addled mind and disobedient
body?

Either way it was probably best to think about something
else.

“Do you…feel any better now?”

“Physically or mentally?”

“Both.”

“I feel warmer. And less…salty. And more content than I’ve
been in a while.”

“That sounds pretty good,” she said, but the minor victory
was short-lived. She was just starting to smile when he suddenly swerved the
conversation into oncoming traffic.

“You can look at me while we talk, you know.”

“I can’t look. You’re completely naked.”

“But you’d probably look if you found me attractive.”

“It has nothing to do with that. I wouldn’t look at anyone.”

“So you’ve never seen someone nude in the tub?”

God, his questions were maddening. It was like being in a
maze filled with booby traps, and every time you went down one escape route
something sprang out and hit you in the face. How on earth did he expect her to
work around this stuff? She couldn’t tell him she found him ugly. But nor could
she say he was hot.

And she definitely couldn’t say yes to that last one.

He would know then that she was a big stupid mega-virgin.

She couldn’t be a big stupid mega-virgin in front of him.

“Okay I’m looking. Are you happy now?”

He raised an eyebrow in a way she wasn’t sure how to
process. It made her blush, at the very least—a blush that she was glad he
couldn’t see. The darkness had its benefits, it seemed, and she was grateful
for them.

“Very,” he said in a tone she couldn’t quite like.

It was too licentious. Or at least, it was too licentious in
her head. In reality it was perfectly normal and not like that at all.

“This is so not cool of you.”

“Would it be cooler if I stood up?”

“Fuck
no
.” The curse word just kind of busted its way
out of her, before she could get ahold of herself. She didn’t regret it,
however. It was probably the only appropriate response to the threat of his
naked body—that and really fierce warnings. “You’d better stay sat down,
Holden.”

“Afraid of seeing my famous penis?”

She was, but saying that seemed a little off. It didn’t
really convey what she was bothered about, which wasn’t exactly his fame. It
had a hint of that—a bit of
oh God he’s a magnificent movie star
—but
there was something more there too. She felt it every time her eyes were drawn
to some oddly unfamiliar part of him…like the heavy jut of his collarbone. Her
own collarbone looked like a bird’s by comparison.

And his
arms
, Christ his
arms
. Who had arms
like that? They weren’t just oddly unfamiliar. They were completely alien. They
belonged to Zargoff the Destroyer from the planet Blatnick, yet had somehow
found their way onto him and into her tub. Now they were here and all covered
in gleaming, soapy water, light and shadows dancing on them in just the way she
hadn’t imagined.

Darkness made the curve just below that thick, heavy muscle
even more pronounced than it probably was, and the hint of sun turned his skin
a color that kind of made her throat catch. It reminded her of freshly split
oak, skirting close to gold but far too pale to really count.

Yeah, that sounded right.

It sounded insane, but it also sounded right.

“I’ve already seen your famous penis. Thanks though.”

“Sorry to tell you this, honey, but you haven’t.”

“I have. You flashed it in that romantic movie with Louisa
Firenze.”

She didn’t think about what he’d flashed, however. She
thought about Louisa, lovely and lissome. Those starlight eyes, that beautiful
mouth. He’d kissed that mouth. He’d done all sorts of things to that mouth—things
she couldn’t stop thinking about, no matter how hard she tried. She was
actually considering going outside to find a big brain-bludgeoning rock, when he
saved her from herself.

“It was a body double.”

“Shut
up
,” she said, but the extra emphasis was more
relief than anything else. Now she could focus on this crazy fact, instead of
Louisa’s thighs wrapped around his head.

“It was, I swear.”

“You’re lying.”

“Hand to God.”

“Is it…is it because you have a micro one? I’m not judging.”

She was glad he laughed in response. Not because it meant he
probably didn’t—she’d have been glad if he did. A tiny little micro penis would
have made him at least twenty percent less super fantastic than he already was,
and that seemed like a good deal to her. But if she couldn’t have it, then
she’d settle for him not being offended at the very least. She could hardly
believe she’d asked, and was grateful for his amusement. It made her seem much
less weird.

As did his willingness to answer.

“No. God no. I’m perfectly normal down there,” he said, and
that made it even easier to relax into this conversation. It was okay to
question his penis. He didn’t mind. In fact he seemed to relish her raised
eyebrow and her little extra push.

“You sure on that, chief?”

“Well, okay. Maybe not perfectly normal. You know in that
movie
Shame
when he’s wandering around with it dangling away and
everyone did a collective gasp? It’s kind of like that. I have a lot of
excessive dangle. And you just can’t show excessive dangle in a romantic drama.
Arthouse only, for sudden shocking penis.”

She wished she didn’t know what he was talking about. She
wished she didn’t even know what a penis was at this current moment in time.
But alas she did, and so now she had to do her very best to minimize the image
in her head.

“This is the most insane conversation I’ve ever had. Are you
just trying to brag about your massive penis in a roundabout sort of way?”

“I swear I’m not. This is the honest-to-God truth.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“You can peep if you want to.”

“And get eaten by this supposed sea monster? No thank you.”

“Come on. I need you to wash my back, anyway.”

“What am I, your lackey?”

It wasn’t the response she wanted to give. But it was the
only solid refusal she could think of on short notice. A snorting laugh would
have come out fake and full of inappropriate blushes, and storming off in a
huff wasn’t the tone she wanted to strike. She wanted something funny and
lighthearted, and came fairly close with
lackey
.

Unfortunately, she also left the door open for his answer.

“Okay…how about I beg you to wash my back, and tell you how
much I’d love to have your hands on me, and if you’d only consider I’ll be in
your debt forever.”

Oh, his answer. Did he realize how he sounded, when he spoke
like that? Was it intentional or just a side effect from years of doing love
scenes he didn’t actually mean? She had to imagine it was the latter, but her insides
wanted to tell her differently. Her insides were buying it hook, line and
sinker.

She almost swooned right off the toilet and into the tub,
even though neither of those things were possible. Swooning wasn’t a real
action, and the tub was around ten feet from her. She would have had to float
for about a meter before getting anywhere close—something that seemed more
possible as the moments ticked on.

All she could currently think about was doing just as he’d
said. Her hands, smoothing over those incredibly round and incredibly large
shoulders. His skin against her skin, just rubbing and sliding through that
sheen of soapy water…the thought alone was near hypnotic. It was more than
near
.

It made her tell him something really stupid.

“Maybe our minds are connected,” she found herself saying,
in a voice that didn’t sound like her own. Somehow her tone had turned sleepy
and hungry all at the same time, and it was obvious he could hear it.

His answering expression was sleepy and hungry, in return.

“You’ve been wanting to do it too?” he asked, and he just
sounded so…excited. He wasn’t supposed to be excited, for God’s sake. He was
supposed to be aloof and vaguely contemptuous at the idea of her wanting
anything—a thought that seemed to fit so well it made her a little guarded
again.