Life Support (The Breathe Series Book 2) (22 page)

“It’s been too long, Owen. How have you been?”

“Hey, Stassi. I’ve been really good. Happy, actually.”

“Well, that’s great, Owen. I’m glad to hear that. You out with your guys tonight? Mind if I come hang with you for a bit until my friends get here?”

“Actually, that’s the reason why I’m here talking to you.” I angle my body so I’m blocking Olivia’s view of Stassi as best I can. “I’m here with my girlfriend. She… What… You have every right to be here. It’s just that I’d appreciate it if you didn’t approach me or Tanner at our table and make a scene. She gets a little worked up when she thinks there’s a woman from my past involved.”

“Girlfriend, huh? Was she in the picture when we—”

“No, but I’d just like to have a nice evening with my friends and not have any drama. Catch what I’m throwing?”

Stassi steps to the side of me and glances toward my table. “Is that her?” she asks.

I look over my shoulder and my eyes lock with Olivia’s.
So much for no drama
. Olivia does not look happy, and why would she? I’m talking to another woman—another beautiful woman at that. I know she gets very nervous, scared—and let’s not forget—angry when I interact with other women who she views as a threat.

I turn back around to look at Stassi. “Yep. So like I said, let’s just avoid each other from here on out. In fact, you may consider going someplace else tonight so you don’t end up with scratches or a black eye.”

“Yeah, okay. I think you’re right. She looks pretty pissed.”

“You have no idea.”

Stassi and I say our goodbyes, and thank God, she leaves the bar without making a scene. I’m not foolish enough to think that Olivia isn’t going to be asking questions. I just don’t want to answer them right now.

When I turn around, Olivia’s eyes are zeroed in on me like a target. I take a deep breath in, square my shoulders for what I’m sure will be a fight, and return to the table.

“You think maybe you and I should go somewhere to talk?” Olivia asks with an arctic chill to her voice.

I have no interest in creating a scene inside the bar or in front of our friends and Archie’s customers. I nod, my face contrite. Olivia refuses my offered hand to help her down off the stool and stalks past me toward the entrance to the bar.

“Laney? Tanner? If you’ll please excuse us for a moment.”

They both nod silently as I turn to follow Olivia.

As I step outside into the cool night air, I see that Olivia is already down at the end of the block. Her arms are crossed and she’s pacing. I follow her down the block, away from The Hook n’ Ladder’s door and windows, and lean against the side of the building. I’m not running after her this time. I’m learning that I need to give her a little space and let her gather her thoughts, so I wait.

Finally, Olivia turns and sees that I’m not running after her, and she seems dumbfounded that I’m stock still against the building. She huffs a little and starts to walk back toward me.

“Do you have something you want to ask me?” I inquire. I’m not going to spill my guts willingly here.

“Is that a serious question, Owen? Because I’m not really in the mood for you trying to be funny,” Olivia bites out.

“I’m not laughing.” That comment only pisses her off further.

“I walked down the block so we wouldn’t have to have this conversation in front of the bar that you frequent fairly regularly, but if you want to have it here, I’m game!” she yells.

“We’re not in front of the—”

“Whatever!” she hisses.

I realize that she’s angry and hurt and tired of my past coming back to bite her in the ass—especially in front of our friends. I know it’s embarrassing. I’m embarrassed too, but she’s flying off the handle and acting like a petulant child right now. She doesn’t even know why she’s angry with me. She just knows that I was talking with a woman so she went into bitch mode.

“Who is she, Owen?” Olivia asks.

Sure, we can start simple and work our way up from there.

“Someone I used to know. She’s of no concern, Olivia.”

“Anyone you tell me is of no concern immediately makes them a big concern. How do you know her?”

“What does it matter?

“Did you seriously just say that? Would it matter to you if I just got up from the table without saying a word to you and started talking to some guy at the door? Avoiding you completely?”

“God, Olivia! I wasn’t ignoring you! I saw her come in and needed to tell her something. We exchanged words and she left. That was it.”

“So why can’t you tell me what you needed to talk to her about. Or even, just simply who she is? Do you realize how shady that sounds?”

I take a deep sigh. “I realize it doesn’t look good. I asked her to leave the bar, Liv. I know her from...before and she… We… I knew she would come up to me, so I was trying to eliminate you getting so worked up. Clearly, I failed here—yet again.”

“The only reason I can think of for you to want some woman to avoid me is because you slept with her. Is that it? Did you fuck her, Owen?”

God, she’s going to make me say it. “Olivia, you—”

“Answer the question, Owen. And for God’s sake, don’t make me ask you twice.”

I run my fingers through my hair, then place my hands on my hips. “Yes.” At hearing the confirmation, Olivia turns her back on me. “It was a huge mistake.”

No sooner than the words have left my mouth, Olivia whips back around and asks, “Why was she a mistake? Looked to me like you get along fine. What happened that made her a mistake?”

I can’t do this here—not now. “I think we should go home and finish this conversation,” I say, taking her elbow and looking down the street to find an available cab.

Olivia yanks her arm out of my grasp as I move her toward a cab that has pulled over. Her sudden shift from being angry to scared is etched across her face. Her eyes dart across my face.

“Tanner and Laney. They’re—”

“I’ll take care of it, Olivia. Get in the car.” I’m growing angrier by the minute. I’m angry that Olivia has blown up again, but I’m even angrier with myself. I deserve what’s coming to me, but goddammit, this woman pushes my buttons sometimes.

While in the cab, I send Tanner a quick text:

Me:
Sorry about tonight. I’m taking Olivia home. I’ll make it up to you and Laney.

The ride home is eerily quiet. Olivia has been playing with her fingers the short ride back to our apartment and shooting me daggers with her eyes. We enter the building and silently make our way up the stairs. I shut the door to the apartment and direct Olivia to sit on the couch. She looks at me warily, but does as I asked. Then I walk around the coffee table and sit down on it in front of her, holding her knees with my fingers. Olivia wiggles her legs, clearly not wanting me to touch her. Great. Whatever. Fuck it. I stand up and move to the other side of the coffee table before I start to speak.

“Her name is Stassi. I fucked around with her one time. Just once. And it was a mistake because it happened when you broke up with me.” I let out a deep breath and wait for the aftermath.

Olivia’s mouth opens, but she says nothing. She wraps an arm around her stomach and looks like she’s going to be sick. Then she clears her throat, like she’s trying to will herself to speak. “You ‘fucked around’ with her?” she asks, using air quotes. “Is that different than having actually fucked her, Owen?”

“No.” I shake my head. “I fucked her. I was drunk and pissed off at you and…she was…there.”

“She was...there?” She’s incredulous. “Huh. I didn’t realize that you just needed someone to be...
there
. Well, I’m glad she could oblige.” Olivia’s shoulders slump and she puts her head in her hands.

“Well, fuck! I’m sorry I disappoint you so much. When you didn’t return my calls or my texts or acknowledge me at all—not once wanting to talk to me—I was under the impression that I would never see you again. I’m not proud of what I did, Olivia. It was incredibly stupid and I cannot tell you that I’m sorry enough. What you and I have
is
special. You’re not some place for me to get my dick wet when the moment hits.” Olivia’s mouth gapes open at my words. I was a little crude, but I got my point across. “But with her, it was. It was just sex.”

Olivia stands up from the couch, grabs a throw pillow, and launches it at me. “Disappoint me? Don’t you dare turn this into me being disappointed. You made a choice. You’re right. I didn’t return your calls, but I also didn’t go and fuck the first dick that came my way. And just so we’re clear, Owen, I did
not
‘fuck around’”—again with the air quotes—“or outright
fuck
anyone while we were apart. I sat on my couch crying most nights and then threw myself into my work. No time for fucking.”

“And just so
you’re
clear, Olivia, I was devastated when you left. I was picking up every shift I could. Ran the soles off my sneakers. And when I wasn’t working, I was in the gym trying to busy myself and figure out why, despite my pleading with you, you wouldn’t talk to me. God, Olivia! You even turned me away from your office! I drank way too much, and one time—
one fucking time—
I really went off the rails and royally fucked it up. I knew I was fucking things up while I was fucking her for God’s sake! I threw up afterwards, I was so disgusted with myself. I saw myself going back down the road to becoming the asshole I was before I met you, and I hated myself for it.
Hated
myself. You changed me, Olivia. You made me believe that I could be a relationship guy. You taught me what it was like to love again. And I did. I loved you fiercely, and when you gave up on me—when you didn’t believe me…didn’t trust me—I was devastated.” I clear my throat, willing the lump that has formed to dissipate.

Olivia gives me a thousand-yard stare while tears start to fall down her cheeks and her chin quivers. She walks into to the kitchen, grabs a wine glass, opens the refrigerator door, and pours herself a large glass. Then she takes several sips before putting it down hard on the granite countertop. I cautiously come to stand behind her, my hands rubbing up and down her arms, trying to comfort her. She stiffens under my touch and my heart drops.

“Owen...no,” she whispers. All the fight has left her.

I take a step back, sensing that she needs space. She turns around, gives me a sad look, and finishes her glass of wine before placing it in the sink. “I’m going to bed, Owen. I can’t do any more of this tonight. Goodnight.”

After brushing my teeth and washing my face, I crawl into our bed. Olivia’s back is facing me, and I don’t know if I’ve ever felt lonelier. I know I fucked up big time. I’m not sure how or even if I can make it up to her. I feel like I keep disappointing her.

When I hesitantly run my hand down her arm, she doesn’t pull away from me, but she doesn't acknowledge me either.

“Despite what you may think, Olivia, I do love you. Even when we were apart, I never stopped.”

Silence.

With a heavy sigh, I lie flat on my back and stare at the ceiling, knowing I’ll be getting little, if any, sleep tonight.

“I’ll never stop,” I murmur.

I BARELY REGISTER OWEN’S touch at first, somewhere between sleep and awake. As my body awakens and my brain follows, I realize that he has pulled me to him. He is molded to my back, his hand holding mine, laying it against his cheek. He is kissing the inside of my palm periodically, murmuring something I can’t make out.

Tossing and turning as I run last night over in my mind, the pain of the evening comes flooding back. I’m still feeling hurt, but I’m missing him more. I don’t have the energy to talk. I know that, if I say anything, I’ll cry. And if I cry, I’ll open conversation that I’m avoiding right now.

His hand touches my cheek and turns my face toward his. I can’t see him, but I can feel that he is behind me and, I think, leaning up on his elbow. The room is pitch black, my eyes not yet having adjusted to the darkness. I can smell him as he lowers his face to mine, his aftershave rolling over me like a fog. I feel his lips brush mine . . . softly . . . lightly. I let him kiss me, not returning his kiss at first but eventually giving in, not wanting him to stop. His tongue coaxes my lips apart as he rolls me toward him and onto my back. His arm runs softly down my arm, and my mouth opens to him. This is not a sexual kiss leading to ravenous lovemaking. This is a kiss that’s trying to bring me back to him.