RECKLESS - Part 4 (The RECKLESS Series) (4 page)

The entire way to the hospital, I could barely sit still. No sooner than Jace threw the car into park, I was out of the door, running toward the hospital entrance. I practically flew through the double doors into the hallway. I sprinted through the corridors, completely ignoring the nurses that told me to slow down, and came to a screeching stop just inside my brother’s room.

I’d had plenty of amazing family memories in my lifetime—holidays, birthdays, vacations—but none of them carried the same amount of weight as that exact moment. Not a single moment in my life had ever given me such a sense of relief. No memory had ever created such a heavy imprint in my heart and soul. This one, this exact moment, would stick with me forever.

Everyone was so wrapped up in excited conversation that they didn’t even notice me standing there, watching them. Cole, sitting up in his bed, eyes open, mouth moving. He still looked weak and tired, but he was, in fact, awake. My mother and father, both glowing, sat on either side of his bed next to him. My other brothers, Scott, Aiden, and Chris were gathered around the bed. And everyone was smiling.

Ironically, Cole was the first one to notice me. The warmth of his smile, that perfect boyish grin, melted me instantly. All at once, I wanted to hug his face off for coming back to us and punch him for worrying us so much.

In the end, I settled for a simple hug.

“Hey, sis,” he said, voice a little raspy, probably from the tubes and not using it for so long.

“Hey there, twerp.” I ruffled his hair, like I had since we were little, only I was a little more careful than usual. I still had no idea if any permanent damage existed, or if he was still in any kind of pain and I wasn’t about to risk doing any kind of damage.

Mom scooted down to give me a spot on the bed and I took Cole’s hand in mine. It was such a different feeling than the one I’d had just hours before. Life existed inside of that hand and behind those bright blue eyes of his, those eyes that I hadn’t seen since I’d arrived, eyes that were tearing up, just like mine.

“I thought we’d lost you,” I whispered, almost afraid to say it out loud.

“I know.”

“I’m so glad you’re okay.”

He gave a small nod, wincing a little, as if the movement hurt. “Me too.”

Just about the time I felt like the dam might burst, like my tears might start flooding from all the emotions, Cole looked up toward the door. I knew, without even having to look, who he found standing there. Jace was the only person he wouldn’t have recognized.

“You know that guy?” Cole asked, not taking his eyes off the door.

“That’s Jace Richardson.”

“So he’s the guy everyone’s been talking about,” Cole said, a knowing smile pulling slightly at the corners of his mouth. “He’s been the hot button topic of the morning.”

“Talking about?” I looked at Cole and when he gave me nothing more than a slight shrug, I looked around at the rest of my family. They all looked away. “Mom?”

“All good things, sweetie,” she said, patting my shoulder. “Now go. Show that man around the town. You’ve seen your brother and he’ll be here when you get back.”

“But—“

“Don’t argue with me, Andy.” She shook her head and then gave me a kiss on the cheek. “Introduce them, and then get out of here. Bring me back something from that bakery of ours. I could really go for some chicken salad.”

I wanted to argue. I wanted to stay with my brother and the rest of my family. I wanted to stay immersed in that moment. But my mother was right; Jace had come all this way, had stood by my side this whole time. The least I could do was take him out to see part of the city, even if it was to pick up lunch for everyone. And so, rather than try to argue—which was pretty much pointless when it came to my mother—I did exactly as she suggested; I introduced Jace and Cole, took everyone’s food order, and then headed out into the misty Seattle rain.

Once we got in the car, I realized that I’d been duped. My mother never had sent me out for lunch at nine in the morning. It had been nothing more than a ploy to get me out of the hospital and out into the city. When I ranted and ranted about it to Jace, he threw his head back and laughed.

“What the hell is so funny?” I asked, glaring at him as we sat in my mother’s car outside the hospital.

“Nothing—it’s just—your mother—“ he said between fits of laughter.

I didn’t see what was so hilariously funny about my mother tricking me into leaving. In fact, I thought it was downright mean of her. But then, when Jace looked at me, when I saw how perfectly highlighted his face was by the sun peeking through the clouds, how his brown eyes glistened as he laughed... it all made sense.

As the realization swept through me, I let out a laugh of my own. My mother was telling me the exact same thing Jace had the night before. This was it. It was all I had. It was all
we
had. What if Jace and I didn’t make it past six weeks? What if this was the only time I could ever show him around the city? I wouldn’t know, couldn’t, really.

But I could embrace that moment.

I could take the day and show him all the things I’d told him about during the flight there, all the things that I’d been too exhausted and distraught to even think about as I’d sat by my brother’s bed side, unsure of what the next day would bring.

And that’s exactly what I had planned to do.

I pulled into my parent’s driveway just fifteen minutes after we’d left the hospital parking lot. Jace stared at me for a moment as though I’d lost my damn mind when I pulled the keys out of the ignition, grinning like a damn fool, and then opened my door and got out of the car.

“What are we doing here?” he asked as we headed up the driveway to the front door.

I shrugged and tried to play it off. “I need a shower. I didn’t take one and I am not going into town all gross.”

“But, you look fine.”

Rather than argue, I shoved my key into the door and stepped inside. Jace followed behind. As soon as he shut the door behind him, I turned to face him, that grin still plastered on my face. He scrunched his eyebrows at me, as if he were trying to figure out what in the world I was doing, but as soon as I pulled my shirt up over my head, his eyes lit up with understanding—or at least hope.

“Andrea, what are you doing?” he asked, his voice a low and deep as he watched me unsnap my bra through hooded eyes. “I haven’t touched you in days.”

“Exactly,” I said, giggling as I threw my bra at him. “Now come shower with me.”

Fueled by the high I was still riding from seeing my brother alert and very much alive and the fluttering desire in my core as Jace started to close the distance between us, I bolted up the stairs, laughing as though I were playing a game of tag. I suppose, in a way, we were. Only the stakes were a lot more fun and interesting.

He caught up with me in my bedroom, just before I’d cleared the door to the connecting bathroom. In one swift move, he had me up against the wall, his mouth crashing against mine, his hands lifting mine up above my head with one hand and caressing the tender flesh of my breasts with the other.

“You, Andrea, are trouble,” he said, moving his mouth to my ear. He nipped at the lobe and then moved his way down my neck, along my collarbone, and then to my breasts. My breath hitched when his tongue darted out to flick a sensitive nipple. “And if it’s a shower you want, it’s a shower you’ll get.”

My insides clenched at the promise behind those words. It did somersaults as he hoisted me up around his waist to carry me into the bathroom, his mouth still searching, exploring every ounce of my exposed flesh. Still holding me to him, he leaned into the shower and turned on the water. He stood upright again, set me down on the ground and brought his lips to mine.

With deft fingers, he undid the button to my jeans. I wasted no time in sliding them, along with my panties, down my legs as he removed his shirt and then his pants. Both of us now naked, he brought his mouth back to mine and backed me into the running water of the shower. The stream trickled between us, danced along our bodies as he lifted me up against the shower wall.

Thank God he’d thought to turn on the hot water this time.

He rocked against me, teasing my opening with his cock, as I fought to hold onto his slick muscles. “Jace, please,” I begged, voice broken and laced with need.

“Mmmmm... I think I’ll need you to beg like that more often,” he growled, taking a nip out of my neck. Then, with one arm around my waist and the other beneath my ass, he guided my body, slid me onto his erection.

I released a shuddered breath and relished in the fullness, in the way he throbbed inside of me as he directed my body so that it met the rhythmic movements of his hips. My head fell back against the shower wall as his thrusts became deeper and more forceful.

“Look at me, Andrea,” he demanded, reaching his arms up around my back to grab a hold of my shoulders. The shift in position sent him deeper as the words sent flutters through my core, heightening my senses.

I wanted to fall into oblivion as the sensations flooded through my body—the water caressing my skin, the painfully pleasurable hits to my insides, the raw desire thrumming through me as I lost myself in the moment—but I forced myself to look at him, rested my head against his forehead and held those intense brown eyes, watched those perfect lips part as he began to pant. The intensity of it all sent me even closer to the edge.

“Stay with me baby,” he panted, slowing his rhythm a little, sending me into a torturous funnel of want and need. “I’ll give you what you need. Just stay with me a little longer.”

I could feel the energy between us, pulling tight like a rubber band, about to snap. Between it, the panting, and the heat and steam from the shower, I started to feel dizzy, like I was spinning around and around in circles. I thought that maybe something was wrong, but then, without warning, I plummeted over the edge, clawing and scraping his skin beneath my fingernails.

Jace pounded harder, faster, one hand smacking the tile wall behind me, the other digging into my hip, as he released animalistic grunts into my ear. And then, something audible, something that sent a panic rushing through me.

“God, I love you,” he panted between breaths, nuzzling into the crook of my neck, his movements slowing as he rode out the remainder of his orgasm.

I should have been overwhelmed with feelings of joy, of happiness, of elation. Instead, I was stiffening, scrambling to dismount myself from him. I couldn’t explain it any more than I could explain why the sky was blue, but he’d gone too far. It was too much. I—I couldn’t.

He released me, let me go, let me walk out of the shower and wrap a towel around my body, but I knew he was watching me. I could feel his eyes on me as I grabbed my clothes to head back out to my bedroom. I could hear his footsteps padding on the carpet as I pulled on my clothes, back to him the entire time. I’d hurt him, and I knew it, but I didn’t know what to do about it. I’d just started feeling again after everything with Sean and then my brother, and then this?

I wasn’t ready.

“Andrea, I—I didn’t mean to say that just then,” he said, his voice soft and broken. “But I don’t regret it. I don’t regret saying it because it’s true. It’s okay that you’re not ready. I told you I would wait for you to catch up.”

My shoulders lifted and fell as a broken, hitched breath racked through my lungs. There was so much I wanted to say, so much I could have said—that I’d known all along, that he’d screwed things up because I was pretty sure I was almost there and now I was afraid—but nothing came out but that damn breath.

Tense seconds ticked by like minutes before he finally spoke up from behind me. “I’m going to go downstairs. I’ll be waiting for you.”

I didn’t miss the implication of those words, of the dual meaning behind them. He would wait for me to be ready, wait for me to figure out what I felt. But it all felt so wrong now. How could I keep seeing this man that clearly loved me when I still wasn’t even sure what I felt or thought? How could I intentionally hurt him like that? I knew that the longer I let it go on, the more it would hurt. Didn’t my lack of reciprocated feelings give me some kind of obligation to let him go until I could be ready? Wasn’t that how it worked?

I didn’t know. I didn’t want to know. I just wanted things to go back the way they were before he’d uttered those words. But you can’t go back. Mistakes are forever, even if they are learning lessons.

When I finally made my way back downstairs, Jace was sitting on the couch, his head in his hands. It broke my heart to see him like that, to know that I’d been the source of all that pain. Why couldn’t I just let go? Why couldn’t I be more like Becca? What the hell was wrong with me that I just had to keep torturing myself with a relationship that had died long ago? Why couldn’t I just appreciate what was right in front of me?

As I stood there on the stairs, watching him, thinking of how he deserved so much better, I contemplated what my next move should be. Should I let him go, or should I hold on with all my might? My instincts told me to hold on, that this was a good thing, that this was exactly what I needed. But the fear choked the life right out of me, the fear that this man could be my undoing, that I wasn’t giving myself enough time between him and Sean, that, even with his claim to love me, Jace would find out that I wasn’t anything like the girl he’d imagined.

Why the hell didn’t life come with an instruction manual?

I’d come this far—we had—and I knew, without a doubt, that there was something there. I could feel it in my bones, in the way he looked at me, in the way my skin felt like it was on fire every time he touched me. I had to give him a full-on fair shot. No more brooding. No more planning. No more worrying about my future.

I was going to live and breathe and just be in my moments with him. The worry with my brother was over now, and we were in the perfect place for me to let my hair down, the city I loved, the city he clearly felt at home with. It was high time we got out there and experienced together.

I crossed the room and sat down on the floor in front of him, putting my face as close to his as I could. “Hey,” I said, gently touching his knee, waiting for him to come to me, for him to see just how sorry I was.

He removed his hands and then looked at me with a pained expression. “Hey.” His voice sounded broken, like he wanted to cry which only made the pang of guilt in my chest bigger, heavier.

I tried to figure out what I would say to ease the ache in his heart, tried to let my own heart do the thinking for me.
Let go,
I thought, taking his hands in mine. “Jace, I’m sorry about that back there.” He looked away from me but I touched his cheek, brought his face back to me, sought his eyes out with mine again. “That wasn’t your fault. You’re right. I’m not ready. But I want to try. I—I know there’s something. I can feel it. Just... be patient with me, please? I’m sorry I hurt you, and I promise, I’m going to work harder at being in the moment.”

A smile pulled at the edges of his lips, but I could still see the pain in his eyes. So, rather than say anything else, rather than risk doing any more damage, I pulled him up from the couch. “Let’s go,” I said, dragging him through the living room to the front door.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”