Scared of Forever (Scared #2) (26 page)

Upon opening the
apartment door, I gasp. Hundreds of candles cover every square inch
of table and counter space. The room glows, golden and luminescent. A
huge projector screen has been placed against the windows, leaving
only a foot-wide space on either side. I laugh as I walk closer and
see a pizza box on the small table between the two chairs, along with
a bowl of microwave popcorn.

“Do you remember
everything?” I ask.

“Everything about
you, I do,” he says smiling, his gaze smoldering from below his
dark brows.

The scene is familiar.
“Are you recreating the first time we met?” I ask.

“Uh huh. Only much
better. I want a do-over,” he replies, walking closer and placing a
hand tenderly on my waist. “Can I kiss you?”

God
yes!
My body screams. “Not yet,” my mouth answers. “As
I remember, this is not the time we first kissed. It’s not
authentic,” I tease. He immediately takes a step back. The warmth
of his touch lingers on my skin. The atmosphere seems to grow warmer
when he’s near me, and I feel an unnatural chill when he steps
back. Tyler walks over to the dining room table and lays about a
hundred different DVD’s out in front of me.

“Did you rent the
whole damn store?” I ask, marveling at the sheer volume of screen
time before me.

“I think maybe there
were two left on the shelves, and they were porn-ish, so…”

“No porn!” I laugh.
I have enough trouble keeping my distance from him without visual
aids.

We eat the pizza, and
decide on a rom com together. Tyler flicks off the lights and
extinguishes some of the candles, and the room becomes cast in a
moonlit glow. I look up, and hundreds of little LED lights pepper the
ceiling, creating our own version of a moonlight cinema under the
stars. The movie that we chose turns out to have ninety-five percent
sex, and five percent voiceover, and does nothing to distract me from
my coital needs. I spend one hundred and fourteen minutes of the
movie’s one hundred and twenty total swathed in an uncomfortable,
hormone-induced fever.

Eventually, we find
ourselves lying side by side on the picnic blanket, staring up at the
faux stars.

“Tyler, you didn’t
really need to do all of this,” I say softly.

“I know, but I wanted
to,” he replies in the same tone.

“Would you still be
here, with me, I mean, if it weren’t for Sadie?” I ask
uncertainly. “Would
we
still be here? I mean, you don’t have the best reputation for
staying in one place for long.”

“Yes,” he says
without a moment’s hesitation. He props himself up onto his elbow
and leans into me. I can smell the familiar scent of his cologne,
fresh and clean and absolutely Tyler. “The only thing I want more
than being with you now is a time machine, to go back to the day I
left, and spare us all of the regret I feel. The pain you were in. I
thought I was coming back to something completely different.”

Without thinking, I
lean up on my elbows and our lips meet, underneath the stars. It’s
the sweetest taste I’ve ever known. Within seconds, the kiss
becomes heated. Tyler’s hands find my waist, his body closing the
gap between us. Kissing him is like exhaling unimpeded; I’m finally
able to breathe again. My hands move quickly of their own volition,
ripping his shirt off over his head. He pulls back, eyes questioning.
Looking for reassurance that this is what I wanted. It takes every
ounce of willpower I possess to pull away. Being this close to Tyler
is like hanging off a ledge and feeling your fingers slipping, one by
one. My resolve is wearing thin.

“Screw it,” I say
furiously. “We have a whole year to make up for,” I say
breathlessly, crashing my lips into his again. Tyler’s mouth
expertly explores mine. I’ve never been kissed by a man who
embodies raw ferociousness and tenderness so well.

This time, he pulls
back. “I fucking don’t believe I’m saying this, but let’s not
do this tonight.” He stares at me sincerely, but his body betrays
him by the rock solid hard on that wants nothing more than to come
out of those jeans. And by the warmth of the lust that emanates from
his body, naked from the torso up. My own body screams at me to
protest.

“You’re probably
right,” I say sadly. “You cloud my rational mind, you know that?”
I smile.

“Don’t be sad,
baby,” he says with a grin. “When I do get you back in my bed,
you’re gonna need rations and an escape plan, ‘cause I may never
let you leave.”

I smile, already
starting the hourly countdown in my head to date number five. We
resume our shoulder-to-shoulder position on the floor.

“
When
?”
I say, feigning offense. “Not if?”

“When may be
tomorrow, or next week, or next month. But there will be a
when
.
I’m only pissed that
when
wasn’t a year ago. But it’s not when you’re in my bed because I
romance you there, it’s when you’re there because you want to
be,” he says. “Thank you in advance,” he continues softly.

“For?” I reply
quietly.

“For today. And for
everything that happens after today,” he says, twirling a lock of
my hair between his fingers.

“I missed you,” I
say softly.

We fall asleep in that
position, and when I wake up, I’m nestled comfortably in the crook
of Tyler’s arm. The rising sun streams in through the exposed gaps
in the windows. I smile contentedly. This was the first time we had
ever spent the whole night together. He stirs and turns his head to
face mine. His eyes are groggy, still adjusting to the harsh, sunny
glare. His hair is a tousled mess.

“You have bed head,”
I tease.

“I’m not the only
one,” he quips back.

I immediately flatten
my own hair self-consciously. “Do you want breakfast?” Tyler
asks, kissing me gently on the forehead before standing and walking
to the kitchen.

“You have food in
here?” I tease.

Tyler grins back
sheepishly. “I bought a bag of croissants yesterday at the bakery
down the road.” He opens the fridge to reveal its still empty
state.

Damn
rules!
Four more
dates to go
, I think, heat coursing through my body as I
am unable to steal my eyes away from Tyler’s naked back.

Goddamn gentlemanly
behavior! I drop Emily off at home, and marvel at how well my
willpower withstood her being in such close proximity to me, alone,
not but a few meters from a bed, a counter top, or even the floor.
It’s a few days away, but next week, I take her on date number two.
Five weeks. Five dates.
Five
long weeks.
Five weeks filled with innumerable cold
showers, baby oil, and my own fucking fist. Which in no way compares
to Emily. I had initially laughed when she mentioned that rule of
hers in the car on the way home. Until I realized I was the only one
laughing. Apparently, Emily really does have a rule about five dates
before sex. I did tease that technically, including last year, the
next date would be the fifth. She just shoots me a playful glare.

It took a team of audio
and electrical engineers the better part of Friday to set up the
stars and the ‘outdoor movie theater’ in my apartment. When I
arrive back, they all stand waiting at my door, ready to take it all
down. I briefly consider keeping it up, but Emily loves the view, so
it has to go.

A few hours later, I
drive out to Providence, deciding to catch up with Jackson. I park at
the address he gave me and make my way up the stairs. When I arrive,
Jackson has just ducked out, and Maia answers the door. She looks
less than impressed to see me, evident by the scowl that clouds her
face as soon as the door swings open.

“Hi, Maia,” I say
sheepishly.

“Come in,” she
says, moving aside to let me inside.

“I can wait
downstairs for Jackson,” I say, slightly afraid of how pissed off
she looks.

Her face softens. “I’m
sorry,” she says. “I’m still processing your return.”

“Me too,” I say
with a small smile. I follow her in and sit on the edge of the sofa.

“Can I get you a
drink?” she asks.

“I’m fine, but
thanks.”

“Look, Tyler,” she
says walking over sitting across from me. “I’ve never been great
at verbalizing my opinions or feelings on, well, just about anything.
So I’ll just talk. I watched Emily shattered for a whole year after
you left her. She was a complete mess. And the fact that she’s
giving you another chance is great. It really is. But if you hurt her
again, I swear I will hire people to break your ankles. And various
other parts of you.”

“Understood,” I say
quietly. “Maia, I really had no idea. I swear that on everything.”

“Well, now you do,”
she rebuts. “So let’s hope that history doesn’t repeat itself.”
I think I may have bumped my head, because I swore I saw her smile.

Just then, the door
opens and Jackson walks in with a brown bag full of groceries.

“Thanks, baby.”
Maia says, walking over and taking the bag from him. She gives him a
kiss on the cheek. Wow, it’s amazing to see the effect he has on
her. Jackson gives me the obligatory male shoulder bump and sits.

“I was kind of hoping
I could talk to both of you,” I say.

Maia looks up from
unpacking the bag and walks over, sitting next to Jackson. “What’s
up?” she asks, curiosity piqued.

“Well, I need your
help, but before you agree, it’s going to involve abduction and
lying to Emily,” I continue with a smile.

“What!” Maia baulks
at my words.

“Dude, I have no idea
what you plan on doing, but I’m not in the mood to go to jail,”
Jackson replies with a laugh.

“It involves this,”
I say, handing Maia a boutique bag.

“I recognize this,”
she says, pulling out the contents of the bag then continuing to eye
me quizzically.

I continue my story. I
tell them the origin of the contents of the bag. Then I tell them the
plan. By the time my request for assistance is complete, both Maia
and Jackson are smiling. Maia is clearly a little excited, even
though she would never openly admit that in front of me. She excuses
herself to take a shower, and Jackson and I walk across the road to
the Clever Bean to grab a beer.

“Not that I don’t
think you are on to something great with your idea,” he says. “But
what happens if it doesn’t work? I mean, Maia loves it, apart from
the withholding of the truth part. This is a huge plan, though. You
seem awfully confident it’ll work.”

“It will work,” I
confirm.

“Can I be honest?”

“Go ahead,” I
reply, unsure of what he’ll say next.

“Speaking from having
had the experience of someone close to me leave, with no explanation
as to why, I have to say, it fucking sucks. Emily, well, she handled
it better than I would have, or better than I did, actually. The
thing is, just because she took you back, doesn’t mean that she
just fucking forgot last year,” he says.

“I know, man. I don’t
have control of the past, though. That’s why I’m making fucking
sure that the future is different for us.”

We walk into the Clever
Bean, and my blood runs cold. Then boils. Behind the counter,
removing the contents of the cash register and emptying the money
into a bag, is Blake. He looks weathered. His hair is missing the
small village-worth of gel he usually puts in it. His fucking clothes
don’t even look clean. Jackson follows my vision and pulls me back,
out the door. Blake hasn’t seen us.

Jackson’s grip on my
arm is strong, and honestly, quite painful. “This is where being
from my neighborhood in the South comes in handy. If you plan on
fucking him up, at least do it away from the eyes of a hundred
witnesses.”

My jaw clenches with
rage, my muscles tightening under Jackson’s firm grasp.

“Move,” he says
forcefully.

Sure enough, Blake’s
car is parked down a side street a few steps away. The car is filthy
on the outside, very unlike Blake. Jackson stands calmly next to a
dumpster, just waiting.

“How are you so
calm?” I whisper-shout.

“Firstly, it wasn’t
my girl that he trash talked, because if it were, he wouldn’t even
be breathing to be able to rob your family’s business. Secondly,
where I’m from, people usually roll up with pistols. Fist fights
were what we did in middle school.” Jackson shrugs casually.

Seconds later, Blake
walks around the corner. The rage once again consumes me. Jackson
hasn’t got a hope in hell of stopping me now. I step out and swing,
Blake registering my presence milliseconds before my hand connects
with his jaw. I feel a satisfying crack beneath my knuckles.
I
hope it’s fucking broken
. He tries to rush me, but
Jackson blocks his path, doubling him over with a hard punch to his
gut. I grab him by the collar and slam him into the coarse brick wall
of the building next to us. He stares at me. No regret or remorse. No
fear.