Discovering Stella (13 page)

Not
being
one
to beat around the bush —
or
argue with a nurse
over
a medical condition — I changed the subject. “Stella, about before —”

“It
can’t
happen again.”
Her voice
and matching expression lacked conviction alongside the biting of
her
bottom
lip.
Like fucking fun, it
can’t!

I raised
an
eyebrow and fired
her
a shit-eating grin.
“It’s
gonna happen again,
angel.”

Stella wrenched
her
foot from
my
grip and hugged
her
legs to
her
chest. “Get. Out!” she sobbed,
her
words quiet yet just
as
potently filled with pain had she screamed them at me.

Her
sudden change of demeanour had me sitting there in shock, watching dumbfounded
as
she rocked back and forth with tears springing from
her
eyes.
What the hell did I do? She
hasn’t
been like this since
...
since that day by the side of the road, when —
“Shit, Stella,
I’m
so
sorry.
I
didn’t
mean to
call
you
that.”

She
didn’t
say anything, continuing to rock back and forth, crying
into
her
knees.
It
was horrifying to just
sit
there and watch such agony and hurt radiate from
her,
the pain apparently
due
to
one simple word. Unable
to
walk
away,
or
let
her
withdraw
as
she had
previously,
I quickly scrambled across the bed, wrapping
my
arms around
her
shoulders and pulling
her
into
me. “Shh,
I’m
sorry.
It’s
okay.
Let
it
out.”

“Just
leave me alone, Lawson. I want to be
alone,”
she whimpered, unsuccessfully
trying
to pry herself loose from
my
hold.

“Stella,
I’m
not
going anywhere. Just
cry.
Fight me. Kick and scream. Whatever
it
is
that’s
inside of
you
...
let
it
out.”

She
surrendered the struggle and slumped in
my
grip.
“I
can’t
do it; I just
can’t.
I’ve
tried,
but
I
can’t,”
she cried.

I
couldn’t
do anything except let
her
lie in
my
arms, sobbing
for
what seemed like minutes
on
end. I
didn’t
say anything, just held
her
tight and rubbed
her
shoulders
for
reassurance while
her
apple-scented skin permeated
my
senses. There was just something about
her
that drew me in.
Her
innocence, yet fiery attitude.
Her
natural
beauty,
yet sexy demeanour
...
her
fragility.

“I’m
damaged,” she murmured
flatly,
snapping me
out
of
my
thoughts.

Hearing
her
write herself off like that
tore
me apart, so I kissed the
top
of
her
head to
try
and give
her
comfort.
“We
all
are, to
an
extent.”

“I’m
a waste of time, Lawson. I
can’t
give
you
what
you
want.”

“You
don’t
know what I want, Princess. And
you
are far from a waste
of
anything.”

She
pulled back and stared at me,
her
red-rimmed eyes heavy with sadness.
“You’ll
regret it, and you’ll get
bored.”

“I doubt that,”
I said
sincerely,
desperately wanting to kiss
her
again
and take away
her
anguish.
It
didn’t
take a rocket scientist to know that
now
was
not
the time, though.
Yes,
she needed gentle pushing,
but it
was also clear to me that she needed to trust.
She
needed to know that I was there to
help
her,
above
all
else.

Stella sighed and snuggled back
into
me. “We’ll
see.”

“We
will.”

“Don’t
hold
your breath. What
you
see is what
you
get.”

“I
don’t
believe that
for
a second.
There’s
so much
more
to
you
than
what
you
let
on.”

She
went
to pull
away,
but
I held
her
tight,
her
warm body fitting perfectly against mine.

“I’m
telling you, Lawson,
you’re
setting yourself up
for
disap
pointment.
I’m
not one you
should get involved
with.”

Listening to
her
doubt
herself was hurting
my
head, so I changed the subject.
“I
heard
you
sing before.
Your
voice
is beautiful.
You
really should embrace
it.”

“Yeah?” she scoffed.
“Well,
that
wasn’t
singing.
It
was humming.
There’s
a difference.”

Shuffling down the bed, I pulled
her
with me so that I was lying
on
my
back with
her
head
on
my
chest. “Why did
you
stop?”

She
shot
up to a sitting
position
beside me. “Lawson, I
can’t
do this
...
with
you
...
here.
I’m
...
I’m
not
ready.”

“Princess,
we’re
just lying down and talking.
That’s
it.”

Stella paused, letting
her
eyes wander
over
my
relaxed posture. I could tell she was
apprehensive, but it
was the slight blushing of
her
cheeks and the small
peaks
forming under
her
pyjama
top
that led me to believe she was also keen.

Noticing me staring, she quickly covered
her
chest and crossed
her
arms
over one
another.

I laughed, pulling
her
down to lie beside me again.
“Come
here.
I
told
you,
I’m
not
a sick pervert. Just relax and
talk
to
me.”

“About
what?” she grumbled.

“About
singing. Why did
you
stop?”

Sighing, she made herself comfortable and rested
her
hand
on
my
abdomen,
the touch sending a
thrill
to
my
groin. Luckily,
my
shorts had ample room
for
expansion.

“It wasn’t
a choice, really. I just
stopped.”

“Do
you love
singing?”

“Yes.”

“Then just start again.”

“Lawson,
it’s
not that easy. Music
has
a way of infiltrating your soul.
It
becomes a
part
of you.
You
have to feel
it
and breathe
it
for
it
to be conveyed
properly.
I’m
just not feeling
it
any
more.”

“I
get that,
but
eventually
you
will
feel
it
again.
You
just have to open your mouth and let the words tumble
out.
You
can’t
run without first walking.”

Honestly,
I had no idea where this psychobabble bullshit was coming from. The last thing I was qualified to do was dish
out
advice
on
moving forward.
Yet,
in
my
mind, the only way to
move
forward was to stop going back.

“I
just
don’t
think I
can,”
she said
quietly,
tracing
her
finger
over my
t-shirt covered abs,
an
action
I’m
certain she
didn’t
know she was consciously doing.
“I’ve
tried. I open
my
mouth,
but
the words evade
me.”

“Don’t
put
too much emphasis
on
it. Fuck, listen to me, sounding like I know what the fuck
I’m
talking
about,”
I said, laughing at myself.

Stella giggled and tilted
her
head to look up at me.
“Yeah,
you
really
don’t
know shit, do you?” she asked with a sly smile.

My body tensed and my pulse quickened, the
urge
to
refrain
from
lifting
her on top of me
almost
impossible. Having no option other
than
to
take
slow,
inconspicuous breaths in order to
calm
my
raging
testosterone, I
lifted
a finger and
trailed
it down her cheek. “I do know some shit,” I responded,
gazing
deep into her eyes. “I know
that
you are the most
beautiful
thing
I have ever seen.
And
I know
that
if I
don’t
get the
fuck
out of
this
room right
now,
I might continue where we left off earlier. I
also
know
that
after
tonight, you are not ready for
that.
Baby steps, Princess.”

With that I rolled
over,
flipping
her
onto
her
back and
hold
ing
my
weight above
her
as
if to prepare myself
for
a
push-up.
“I
will
tell
you
this, though — when
you
are
ready,
watch
out.
I’m
coming
for
you. And when I
do, you
won’t
know what hit
you.”
Activating the muscles in
my
arms and shoulders, I
lowered
and pressed a
swift
kiss to
her
lips before getting to
my
feet and
walking
out
of
her
room like the responsible fucker that I am.

Moving forward

Oh my god! Did he just say that? What am I supposed to do with that information?

After
Lawson left
my room,
I remained frozen, stunned
as
if I were a dead fish, except I was breathing slowly
as
I tried to
decipher
what he’d said. ‘I’m coming for you. And when I do, you
won’t
know what hit
you.’

Did
I want him coming
for
me?
My
god, I
didn’t
know.
I
didn’t
know whether I was ready
for
that kind of thing
...
or
if I could handle it. I also
couldn’t
deny
that I liked him. A lot.
He
evoked feelings in me that I’d
long
buried, feelings I
wasn’t
sure I would ever feel again. When I was around him, I felt safe
...
comfortable.

Turning on my
side, I scrunched the sheets to
my
chest,
an
uncontrollable smile forming
on my
face. ‘I know that you are the most beautiful thing I have ever
seen.’
The sincerity in his eyes when he’d said those words
couldn’t
be mistaken. At least, I hoped
it
couldn’t.
Could it?
What if I’m being played? Crap!
I
didn’t
really know the
guy.
In fact, I’d only known him
for
a little
more
than
a week. And then there was the fact I’d just
broken
down in
front
of him
for
the second
...
wait
...
third,
or
was
it
the fourth time?
Ugh
...
what a crazy mind-fuck.
I must admit though, that
it
had been somewhat of a relief to finally
talk
about things I’d deliberately bottled and sealed. Just that small release of information and
emotion
had lifted a constricting weight from around
my
head.
However,
now it was
doubt’s
weight slowly creeping
over
me. I just
...
I just
didn’t
know whether to let myself attempt
“normal”
again.

Rolling
over
to
my
other side, restless and confused,
my
smile from
moments
ago disappeared.
My
head was
again
a tumbleweed of mixed emotions, uncertainty dominating everything.
For
so long I’d been
an
empty shell, virtually
devoid
of any
emotion
whatsoever. So, in hindsight, a farrago of feelings was better
than
no feelings at all, right?
Stella, take a breath and slow down. Things are moving too fast. Just breathe.

Ugh! I needed to find
my
bearings and get
my
life in
order
before I
contemplated
anything beyond friendship with Lawson.
No
matter
how
good he tasted,
or
how
wonderful his lips felt pressed against mine, I first needed to find
some
stability. That was a certainty, and
tomorrow
was going to be the beginning of that particular
journey.
Tomorrow,
I started
my
new
job
at the
pub
and I was
more
than
looking forward to it.

*
 
*
 
*

“Stel, you
can’t
work
with your foot like
that,”
Todd
protested.

“Like hell I
can’t.
Look
...”
I said, rotating
it
with great difficulty.
“It’s
fine.”

“You
are the worst liar in history.
Try
doing that
again
without displaying the pain
it
causes.”

“So what?
It
hurts a little.
I’ve
suffered
more
pain
than
a bloody sprained
foot,”
I snapped, staring him down.

Todd
smirked and
lowered
his coffee mug to the bench. “Yeah?
You
wanna tell me about that particular pain?”

Sneaky bastard.
I fell into that trap with a thud.
“No,”
I said, turning
my
back to him and tipping the dregs of
my
cup of tea down the kitchen sink.

“Your
call.
I’m
not
going to push you.
But you
might want to think about letting
someone
in.
It
could
help.”

Sighing, I closed
my
eyes to
prevent
them spilling tears down
my
cheeks. I knew he meant no harm with his persistence; I knew he was just being the caring, loving and devoted
Todd
he’d always been. I just
couldn’t
bring myself to let him in — to tell him the truth.

“I
don’t
need
help,
Todd.
I’m
dealing with this shit
on my
own.
It’s
the only way I know
how.
Part of that way is moving
into
new ventures, and working at the
pub
alongside
you
is
one
of
them.”
Turning
to face him once again, I gave him
my puppy
dog eyes. “Please! Let me start
today.
I’ll rest
my
foot if
it
becomes painful. Pinky
swear.”

Todd
looked at
my
outstretched little finger, so I waggled
it
for
him and smiled.

“All right,”
he surrendered, “but
you
will
be sitting
for
most of the
day. I’ve
got
some
jobs
you
can
do that
don’t
require being
on
your feet.
You
may
not
like them,
but
stiff shit,
I’m
the
boss.”

Deciding
not
to argue with him further, I conceded.
“Okay.”
You’re
the boss. So
let’s
go,
boss-man.”

He
shook his head and laughed before grabbing his
car
keys and gesturing me toward the
door.
“You’ve
changed, yet
you
haven’t,”
he mumbled.

I tried
my
best
not
to limp,
tenuously
skipping along instead.
“That’s
a
contradiction.”
\

“No,
it’s
a
paradox.”

“Fair enough,
but
don’t
we
all
change yet
somehow
remain the same?”

He
huffed.
“Maybe.”

“Toddler,
just
let it go. Yes, I’ve
changed.
I’ve
changed
irre
vocably
and
for
good
reason.
But
I’m
still
the
Stel
Bel
who
used
to
turn
your
socks
inside
out
and
leave
rose
petals
in
your
bed.”

He
let
out
a deep chuckle and held the
front
door open
for
me.
“Yes,
you
did.
You
were such a pain in
my
arse.”

“You
can
talk.
Every time a guy chatted me up at school
you
scared him off with your ‘big
brother’
bullshit, telling him
you
were a national kickboxing champion. Oh yes, I knew
all
about it,
Todd.
And
don’t
get me started
on
Mr
TV
Remote
Hog.
I bet that particular characteristic
of
yours
hasn’t
changed.”

“Too
right
it
hasn’t.
And
it
never will.”

“Well
...
consider your socks to be found inside
out
when I next do the washing.”

He
shook his head and chuckled once
more.
“Looking forward to
it.”

*
 
*
 
*

Todd
wasn’t
joking when he said I
wouldn’t
like the ‘sitting down’ jobs he had in mind, folding napkins around cutlery being
one
of them. So far, I had
done
a whole
tray full
of the stupid things.

“How
you
goin’
there, Stel?” he called
out
from behind the bar.

“Fine,”
I called back, swivelling around to roll
my
eyes at him.
“Although, one
of the knives did protest at being swathed with a fork.
He
said he preferred other knives.”

He
laughed.
“Come
on,
it’s
not
that bad a
job.”

“Oh,
I’m
not
complaining.
I’m
just warning
you
that
I’m
an
advocate
for
cutlery rights. If knives want to be paired with knives, who
am
I to disagree?” I said, looking back at the two forks in
my
hand. I deliberately paired them together while trying to force back
my
smug smile.

“So,”
he said, startling me
as
he stepped up beside me, “are
you
telling me there are pairs of knives wrapped up in that pile
you
have there?”

“I
can
neither confirm
nor
deny,”
I answered, quickly wrapping the forks in a napkin so that he
couldn’t
see.

He
shook his head. “Pain. In.
My.
Arse.”

Winking, I placed
my
marriage of forks
on
the tray and then wrapped
my
last pair — a knife and a
fork,
they were
conven
tional.
“It’s
awfully quiet
today.
Where is everybody?”

“It’s
Sunday.
Lawn bowls
day.
Don’t
you worry,
they’ll
all
be
here
soon. Sunday
arvo
is
one
of our busiest times. Bone Dry plays a
couple
of sets
as
well.”

“I
thought
you
said their lead singer was an, um
...
how
did Lawson
put it?
A leg-opener
as
opposed to a
mouth-opener.”

“She
is. Bone
Dry’s
lead guitarist also sings, so
he’s
been
cover
ing. Why?
You
interested?” A hint of a smile crept in at the corner of his mouth.

“Hell
no!
I
told
you, I
don’t
sing any
more.”
I turned to check the table
as
Todd
walked back to the bar.

“You
will,”
he replied
confidently.
“You
said
you
wanted a fresh start. When
you’re
settled, comfortable and
happy,
you’ll sing
again
and
you
won’t
even know that
you’re
doing
it.”

Rising from
my
seat, I picked up the tray of cutlery and turned, only to be greeted by
Todd,
who plonked another tray down
on
my
table, this particular tray containing salt and pepper shakers and two large bags
full
of the same.