Shifting Gears (15 page)

He wraps his arm around my waist and
pulls me to him. “I have to go, baby. As much as I would love you
to drop that towel so I can take you to your bed and make love to
you, I can’t. Got work to do. I’ll call you when I can.”

“Okay,” I breathe.

My legs are still weak, my heart
beating so fast, I’m certain he can feel it as he hugs me. He
reaches down to push the hair away from my neck then leans in to my
ear. “Thank you for what you gave me last night. I know I shouldn’t
have taken it, but I couldn’t help myself.”

He kisses me gently, barely touching
my skin, and then he’s gone.

Leaving me breathless.

The door shuts as Holt walks out. I
hear Cass’s footsteps bolting down the hall toward my
bedroom.

“Okay, Nik, what the hell is up?” She
plops down on my bed.

I walk into my bathroom to get dressed
and come back out with my hairbrush, brushing the strands of wet
hair Holt had just touched, and sit down in my reading chair beside
the window.

“I can’t do it.”

“What do you mean, you can’t do it?
Uh, pretty sure you already did.” She laughs. “Just sayin’.” The
way you two looked this morning, fucking absolutely took place
between the two of you last night.”

“Just now, before he left, I could
feel the honesty in his words. It was there. I know it.”

She lets out a roar of laughter.
“Okay, honey, I’m not understanding. What’s the
problem?”

I take a deep breath. “It’s just
that... Cass, I know what he said. He was lonely, just like me. He
missed me.” I throw my hands in the air out of frustration with my
schizophrenic emotions when it comes to him. “Okay...so I’m
missable. But am I stayable? He
says
I make him want to
stay, but does that really mean he will? I still don’t know if he’s
on a job or not, but after what he said just now, I’m pretty sure
he is.”

“Well, have you asked him?”

“No.”

She squints her eyes and wrinkles her
eyebrows as she shakes her head. “Um, why the hell not? Nik, honey,
you need to talk to him. Don’t be afraid. Ask him. You have to
know. You deserve to know. You
need
to know.”

“What if I don’t want to know? What if
I’m afraid of what his answers will be?” I turn my head to look out
the window, my fears crowding my mind, relentless once more. I’m
falling again already, and it’s scaring the shit out of me. I was
pretty sure I loved him back then. And that feeling, yeah, it never
went away. I just pretended. “All those visits, talking to the
doctor, it was pointless. I am exactly the same now as I was back
then.”

“Nicolette Stringer, I swear I’m going
to slap you. You are so not that person anymore. Nowhere fucking
near. You are strong, talented, and an independent, successful
doctor. You’ve overcome that shit, and I refuse to let you think
for a second that you’re going back there.”

I close my eyes. Her words hit me
deep. I know she’s right, but it’s too hard to explain to her how
just the sight of Holt makes me lose control. Makes me
vulnerable.

“Hun, you need to talk to him. You
need to ask him.”

“It’s not just that. This morning when
I walked out of my bathroom, I froze when I saw he wasn’t in my
bed. I thought the worst and shut down, that fast. Only to discover
he was here the whole time.”

“Um, Nik, sweetheart, that’s a good
fucking thing, a man cooking you breakfast after he’s fucked you
senseless.”

“Don’t you see? I haven’t let go of
what him leaving did to me. It’s still there. Like a fucking
incurable disease.”

“Hun, I think he’ll be the one to make
it go away. The only one.”

I break down then, the sobs coming in
uncontrollable fits. Only with Cass have I ever been comfortable
enough to show my fears, my anguish.

“I can’t live like that, Cass,” I cry.
“Living in fear of him disappearing again.”

“I know, honey, I know.” She lets out
a frustrated sigh. “Okay, look, so we’re both off today. Let’s do
chick flicks all day. We’ll call Clay and Ang, and we’ll load up on
popcorn and ice cream. Whatcha think?”

I clear out what’s left of my cry-fest
and suck in the remaining sniffles. “I think that’s exactly what I
need right now. My friends and junk food.”

****

In the middle of our third movie of
the day, my phone chirps with a text. I’m afraid it’s Holt, so I
ignore it. It sounds a few more times during the movie, but I
continue to ignore it. I don’t know what to say to him. How to tell
him I’m damaged, that I’m not the kind of woman he would be happy
with in the long run, that I can’t risk taking a chance on him
again. I so wish I could channel some of Lita’s badass girl power
right then. I sit and pretend all is okay, until I see
Ang.

She’s walking toward me, my cell in
her hand. “That guy, Holt, is on the phone.”

Shit. This is where it’s a good idea
to fill your friends in when you’re avoiding someone. I debate
getting her to tell him I’m in the bathroom but then think better
of it. I can do this.

Dig deep, girl. You got
this.

I take the phone from Ang and head to
my bedroom. There’s no way I can say the things I need to say to
him with an audience. “Hello?”

“Is there some reason you haven’t
answered any of my texts, Nicolette?”

The sound of the voice on the other
end leaves no doubt that he’s mad. These mood swings. God. I can’t
keep up. The gentleness of his touch, the softness that overcame
me, long gone. What I hear now is straight rage, and it sends
chills down my spine.

“Um, the girls and I are watching
movies.”

“So you couldn’t just text me back and
tell me that shit? I would’ve known that, instead of being on the
phone with you, after not knowing for the past two hours where the
hell you were and wondering if—”

He silences himself mid-sentence. When
he does, I can’t help but hear the background. Lots of noise. He’s
somewhere with a lot of people. And music. Loud music. And
laughter. Is he at The Rox?

“Fuck. I’m sorry. I just got a lot of
shit going on right now. I’m sorry, babe.”

What does he have going on? And why
the hell does he seem so jumpy? Like something has spooked him.
It’s been less than six hours since he saw me. Why is he flipping
out so badly?

Holt was never controlling with me.
Well, at least not with anything that didn’t include us getting
naked. He liked it then, and I loved giving it to him in return for
the pleasures he gave me. So this whole
why-didn’t-you-answer-your-phone bit is just weird. Totally not
him. Or, at least, not the Holt I once knew. Maybe I’m not the only
who’s changed.

“Kilo is missing his doctor and wants
you over for a visit. Do you know where the Claremont Motel
is?”

So that’s where he’s staying. On the
other side of town. No wonder I didn’t see any sign of him those
two weeks after that night at The Rox. “I can’t tonight. It’s been
a long weekend, and I, um, need to catch up on sleep. I have
surgeries scheduled for tomorrow.”

That’s a legitimate enough answer, and
I pat myself on the back for thinking fast. Whether it buys me some
time, I don’t know.

“I’ll find a way to put you to sleep,
Nicolette. Promise.”

I try my best to not let his words
penetrate me, but that too-familiar warmth is growing between my
legs. “I’m serious, Holt. I have a surgery scheduled for tomorrow,
and I cannot be drained. I think of those animals at the hospital
as my own, each and every one of them, and if I’m the reason any
harm comes to them, it would kill me.”

“I know, babe. I know. Okay. I’ll give
you tonight, but tomorrow, you’re mine.”

I give up on telling him my decision.
It’s better if I say it in person. “Okay.”

“Enjoy your movies, babe.” He hangs up
before I can respond.

I climb in bed that night after
watching three more sappy movies about the kind of love us normal
people never achieve. I’m instantly haunted by the smell of Holt,
the traces of scent he’s left on my pillow, my comforter. It’s all
over. Intoxicating me. I close my eyes. He’s touching me, tasting
me. Absolute torture. My own fucking prison.

How the hell am I going to be able to
tell him I can’t take a chance on us again? I have to think about
all the reasons I shouldn’t. I have to think about how I barely
know him, really. I mean, before last night, I had no clue he even
played guitar, much less sang like that. Who taught him to play?
What else is he good at? Well, I kinda already know the answer to
that. Where did he grow up? Where are his parents? Does he have any
brothers or sisters? Does he have an actual place he calls home
somewhere?

The three months I had with him went
by in such a whirlwind that we never really had the chance to get
to know each other. But, somehow I still felt a connection to him.
I knew him, knew what was inside him. I knew he was good. Bad on
the outside and scary as shit to look at, but on the inside I
sensed his heart was big. Those eyes. They gave away so
much.

What he said earlier is still
bothering me. Why was he so damn jumpy when he called? If I knew
the slightest bit about the kinds of people he goes after, it might
help me understand his mood swings. Is he looking for a serial
killer or something? I chuckle at my ridiculousness—the result of
too many suspense novels. I’d always imagined him chasing down drug
dealers who didn’t pay their suppliers, or accountants who stole
money from their bosses. People like that. Not killers or
anything.

As if on cue, my cell rings. Holton.
My heart skips a beat. Damn it. If I don’t answer, he’s just going
to keep calling or, worse, show up at my door.

“Hey, babe, you in bed
yet?”

Once again, he doesn’t sound as if
he’s alone. Two male voices are talking in the
background.

“Maddox,” one of them
yells.

“Yes, I’m in bed already.”

“Good. Sleep well, baby, and don’t
even think about ditching me tomorrow. I will find you.”

Before I can reply, he
disconnects.

****

Monday mornings usually suck, but
today it sucks even more than usual. I didn’t get any sleep last
night. Fighting with what I want and what I should do is killing
me. I need coffee.

I drag myself out of bed, tuck my feet
into my oversized doggie slippers, and walk down the hallway to the
kitchen, stretching.

After pouring myself a cup of coffee,
I pop a bagel in the toaster and grab the phone to call my Aunt
Helen. Since Holt came back, I’ve neglected her. We don’t see each
other much now, only on my monthly weekend visits, so our phone
calls are our lifeline to one another.

“Hi, sweetheart! How’s
work?”

“It’s good. I mean, I still feel like
some of the other doctors are hating on me for getting Doc C’s
position. But it could just be in my head. You know how I
am.”

“I’m sure you are imagining it,
sweetheart. They know you deserve it. I’d bet my fresh-baked apple
pie on that. They’ve worked with you long enough to see how much
you love those animals, and you have the skills and knowledge to
run things.” She lets out a sigh. “You’ve been around that hospital
since you were, what, six? You know what’s best for that place.
Doctor Caravan knew it, and so do they.”

“You’re probably right. It’s just,
there’s a lot of pressure, and I don’t always know if I’m making
the right decisions.”

“I’m sure you are,
sweetheart.”

“I just wish it hadn’t happened the
way it did. I didn’t even get the chance to prepare myself for it,
you know, mentally. I still don’t understand why he left so
quickly. It just doesn’t make any sense. You know?”

“Maybe he’s giving you your space so
you can see for yourself how perfect you are for the
job.”

“Maybe. If he’d at least answer his
phone, I don’t think I’d be having such a hard time
coping.”

“Well, when that old hoot gets tired
of touring the country, or whatever it is he’s doing, he’ll be
back. He can’t stay away from that hospital for too long. He’ll be
back within six months, if you ask me. Anyway, enough about work.
Tell me, any new men to talk about?”

I hang my head. Every time. Every
single time, she asks this. She seems to feel it’s her mission to
ask me about my love life. If I’ve met anybody. If I’m practicing
safe sex. I love my aunt with all my heart, but, God bless her, she
still thinks I’m eighteen.

I hesitate to tell her about Holt,
because I’m certain she’s going to have us riding off into the
sunset. That’s how she is. The era of the southern belle lives on
in her.

I’d told her about him back then, but,
unlike Cass, she doesn’t know the whole story. All she knows is
that things didn’t end too well with us, and I led her to believe I
broke it off with him. I couldn’t tell her, because I knew it would
be hard on her knowing I was heartbroken.