Authors: S. Jackson Rivera
He glanced at her to see if she’d caught what he meant. His sex life was no secret between them but for some reason, right now didn’t seem like the time to remind her about it. A look of disappointment crossed her face.
“I’m sorry. I’ve been hanging around people too much like me for too long. I feel like a bumbling buffoon around you.”
“Don’t. Just be yourself.”
“Believe me. You don’t want me to be myself.” He inhaled deeply, let it out and then backtracked to where the conversation had gone before he sidetracked it. “I sleep here sometimes. My apartment is small. I have issues with confinement.”
“Don’t we all?”
“We can stay right here tonight. Is the mat comfortable enough?”
“Yeah, it’s very comfortable, but . . .”
“But what? Do you want a better pillow? Clean sheets? I have more sheets at my apartment. I kind of have a thing about sheets—”
“The mat’s fine, the pillow’s fine, so are the sheets.” She looked up at the night sky and exhaled. “Um . . . I was hoping . . . to be alone.”
“No.” It came out sounding too much like there would be no discussion. He softened his tone. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
Her gaze shot up to meet his, and he recognized the dread. She wanted to be alone. She wanted to cry. She didn’t want him around, and it saddened him. He sighed.
“Okay. Let me get you a few things first.”
He grabbed the sheets and a pillow he’d stored in the spare room at the shop from the previous night. He helped her make the mat more comfortable and left some water.
“Thank you. I’ll be all right.”
Anxious to get rid of me
, he thought, and again it disappointed him.
“Okay, good night then,” he said quietly. He didn’t really want to leave her. “Don’t forget to drink some water, and—”
“Paul!” She cut him off a little more irritably than she would have under normal circumstances. Her eyes were already starting to tear up. She wouldn’t be able to hold it back much longer.
“I’m leaving.” He hesitated a second before walking around the corner of the building, where she could no longer see him. He stood for another second, waiting and listening—but nothing. He wondered if he’d assumed wrong.
He sat down on the bench next to the office and waited. Two minutes later, he heard her cry. He pursed his lips and hung his head. Thirty minutes of torture later, he slid silently into the hammock and waited some more. He didn’t know exactly what he was waiting for, but he wasn’t about to leave her, even if she didn’t know he had to be there for her.
Another thirty minutes later, he noticed a difference in the sounds coming from the deck. He hoped it meant she’d made it through the worst of it. Her convulsive sobs had finally settled to a quiet weep with intermittent intakes of staccato breaths.
He climbed out of the hammock and carefully made his way back to her. He didn’t know if she’d heard him, but she didn’t flinch when he climbed onto the mat, next to her. She lay on her side when he snuggled up behind her, put his arm over her, and rested his cheek against hers. A few minutes later, she took a deep breath and fell asleep in his arms.
oOo
Paul didn’t know what woke him. Careful not to wake Rhees, he checked his watch. Only three in the morning.
“Please no!” she cried in a weak voice. “I promise not to tell my mommy,” she whimpered.
“Shh, it’s only a dream.” He tried to comfort her, but when he tried to pull the hair away from her face, she writhed and swatted his hands away.
“Ow! Stop. Please.” She cried and thrashed before she finally woke up and realized where she was.
“Hey, it was just a dream—a bad one.” Paul leaned over her, concerned. “It’s okay. No one’s going to hurt you—I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
“I’m sorry.” She panted and took a second to catch her breath, calm down.
“What did you dream about?”
“I don’t know.” Her answer came out curt.
“You’ve already forgotten?” He chuckled warily. He’d heard the things she’d said in her sleep.
“I don’t know . . . yeah,” she said, still out of breath.
“You were scared, and in pain, I think. Ring a bell?” He really wished she’d confide in him.
“No.” She looked up at the early morning sky so she wouldn’t have to see the concern in his eyes anymore. He lay back down so they were both on their backs.
“Well . . . at this point, I usually tell the girls I’ve slept with that it was nice, and I hope we can do it again sometime, but not too soon. Somehow that doesn’t seem right in this case.” He glanced over at her to watch her reaction.
She finally laughed and he felt better hearing it.
“Thank you.”
“For what?” He watched her.
“I don’t know . . . for sticking around? You haven’t left my side—even when I asked you to. That means a lot to me.”
“It’s nothing—just what a
friend
would do, right?”
“Yeah . . . a friend,” she said. She finally looked at him. Her voice turned quiet. “Thank you for being my friend. I’ve felt kind of alone in the world lately.”
“I’m not
that
good a friend.” He knew what kind of person he was, and he didn’t want her getting too comfortable with him.
“You’re the best friend I have.” Her voice level dropped to barely audible.
“That’s not true.” Paul rolled over to face her. “What about Claire? And Dobbs? Tracy and Regina? You have the whole Williams family, too.”
That made her smile. “You’re right. I really do love everyone here. Well, almost everyone.” She tried to laugh. “Claire. Claire is a good friend . . . and Dobbs, but he’s kind of weird around me—ever since I hugged him—when he gave me the peanut butter. I shouldn’t have hugged him. I’m worried he’s afraid I don’t realize he’s married—or that I don’t care that he is—I don’t think he knows me well enough to know I’d
never
do that.” Paul cleared his throat and neither of them said anything for a minute.
“Do you want to go home?” Paul finally asked, quietly.
“Home?” She smirked.
“You know, Utah. Where your family, your real friends, can take care of you . . . until you get over . . . get better.”
She laughed out loud, and he didn’t understand why. “I don’t have family and I sure as heck don’t have friends at home. I think I’ve told you that.”
He hadn’t forgotten, but he’d convinced himself she’d exaggerated the situation. They lay in silence for a long time.
“Will you have sex with me?” Rhees didn’t break her concentrated stare at the sky when she asked.
Paul chuckled, sure she was joking. “Is this a test? Are you testing my resolve to keep my promise?”
She glanced over at him. “I’m completely serious.”
“No.” It came out fast and brusque. It was the last thing Paul had expected her to say.
“I’m sorry. I—I thought you wanted . . .” She fumbled on the words, embarrassed.
“Rhees.” He tried to laugh but couldn’t pull it off. He rubbed his forehead with his hand and then massaged his temples.
“Not tonight, you have a headache?” They both laughed uncomfortably.
He turned to look at her, his expression grave.
“You know how I’ve wanted you. You have to know, but Rhees, that’s not really what you want.”
“Don’t tell me what I want. I’ve thought this through. I want it—very much.”
“No, you don’t.”
He sounded cross, and she didn’t understand why he’d be upset about her offering him exactly what he’d practically begged her for.
She tried to shake the confusion away. “I do. I realize how stupid I’ve been. I’ve been waiting for a fairytale ending, like there’s supposed to be a magical moment where some, too-good-to-be-true guy comes along and sweeps me off my feet. It’s all a delusion, just like you said. There is no love.”
“Don’t.”
“It’s just biology and I want—I
need
it to be my decision. I don’t want to be a walking target for every creepazoid out there.” She rolled her head to look at Paul. “I want it to be you.”
“You really don’t want this,” Paul said. “It’s just . . . I’m sure this is just a reaction to what happened.”
“It’s not.” She smiled at him. “Okay, so maybe this new way of thinking is a result of what happened, but only because it’s made me think about it in a more realistic way. I wasn’t being realistic before—just like you said.”
“I was wrong.”
“You don’t really believe that.” She laughed. “I need this. Come on. You’re the perfect man for the job. You told me yourself.”
He jumped up, afraid he might be tempted—he was tempted. “I was wrong. You haven’t waited this long for someone like me.”
“You’d rather it be someone like Mario?” she said dryly.
“No,” he growled. He started to pace. “You’re suffering from post-traumatic-stress-disorder or something. You’d never consider it if that sleazebag hadn’t tried to hurt you.”
“Paul.” She sat up. “I’m not suffering anything. I’ve thought this through. I want to get it over with, be done with it. I want you to do it.”
He gasped. “See! What you just said—that isn’t the way a normal person talks about it. You want me to do
it
! Be done with
it
? Get
it
over with?”
“It doesn’t matter how I say it. I still want it. I want you to have my virginity.”
His voice dropped to almost a whisper. “You’ll hate me . . . when it’s over, you’ll hate me.”
“No I won’t. I’ll be forever grateful to you.”
“Yes, you’ll hate me, and I couldn’t bear that.”
“Oh, for crying out loud. Now you get picky.” She turned her back on him and laughed ironically. “I should have known . . . I’ll just have to find someone else to do it then,” she said under her breath.
“Rhees,” he snarled. He reminded himself why she was acting so irrational and tried to calm down. “Please. You’ll see I’m right. Promise me you’ll wait a few more days before you do anything stup . . . rash.”
Gratefully, he’d caught himself. He needed to tread lightly. He could tell she was considering his opinion, but he knew the line was very thin. If he tipped her even the slightest bit further, her stubborn side would make it impossible to change her mind.
“Do you want me to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder? To have to wonder if every man I come in contact with is looking for a way to take it away from me? I need to do this now—my way.”
He sat down behind her and put his arms around her shoulders. He rested his chin tenderly on the top of her head and sighed.
“Wait a few days, okay? Don’t dig your heels in about this already. You’re going to change your mind.”
“I said I’m not—” She started to react, shaking her head as if she was about to deny he was right again, but he put his finger to her lips and shushed her.
“If you still feel the same way in a few weeks . . .” He sighed in resignation. “We’ll talk about it then, all right?”
“Really?”
He nodded. “I can’t believe I’m not jumping all over this—but yeah. I need you to wait.”
“I’m not going to change my mind,” she assured him.
His lips ran through a few thoughtful contortions before he nudged her jokingly.
“I hope not.”
Chapter 24
P
aul borrowed Randy’s motorcycle again and took her home to shower and change out of his clothes. She looked good in his baggy garments. He liked seeing her wearing his clothes, but seeing her in her own was even better—the fit, her sense of style—he really liked her style.
“There’s the girl I remember,” he said when she walked out of her room and into the kitchen, where he waited. “Mmm, you look good enough to eat,” he teased.
“Well, I hope you like your meat raw, because that cold shower isn’t going to cook anything.” She exaggerated a shiver to make her point about how much she hated taking cold showers.
“Yep. That’s the kind of
eat
I’m talking about.” He smiled and his eyes twinkled with amusement, and then he felt guilty.
oOo
Rhees’ attempted rape and the assault on Shelli were the most preferred topics of conversation at the shop and around the island. Paul’s senses had slipped into overdrive. He suspected everyone and watched everyone watch Rhees. They watched him—watched how he interacted with her—but it made him think. After mulling it over in his mind all day, he’d come up with an idea, but he needed to think about it longer. It would mean making some major changes.
“I think we should go out for dinner tonight,” Paul suggested.
“Okay.” She didn’t protest.
It shocked him a little. She’d complained every time he offered to spend his money on her and she always offered to cook instead. They’d compromised, taking turns, her cooking and him ordering out. He grinned and winked at her before realizing Mitch had watched the exchange. Mitch gave him a sly nod of approval and it only reaffirmed Paul’s thoughts about his idea.
oOo
Paul and Rhees sat on their mat on the deck, eating pizza. They’d planned to eat at the restaurant, but just as they walked in, before they’d even been seated, she’d suffered a panic attack and he’d whisked her away, barking out his order to the waitress for a pizza and some wine, and paying extra to have it delivered. Rhees had calmed down when they reached the shop. She’d apologized and said she felt safe there.
He took a sip of wine. “I’ve been thinking.” He paused, trying to decide if his approach to the subject was right. He’d never had this conversation before.
“That could be trouble.” She giggled, and it made him smile. While she’d seemed so fragile the last few days, it felt good to see the real Rhees peeking through.
“Yeah, I know what you mean.” He laughed. “Do you remember how, the night we had ice cream—the next day, everyone was sure we’d slept together?”
“Don’t remind me,” Rhees said, aghast. “I think some people still have trouble believing we didn’t.”
“I don’t think they do.” He remembered how believable her denial had been, and he chuckled half-heartedly that she’d just done it again—reacted as if the idea disgusted her. “You know how you said you want to . . . you know?” He winced. Making his proposal was turning out to be harder than he’d imagined it would be. He’d negotiated multi-million dollar deals, but he felt completely inept at what he tried to suggest they try now. She gave him her undivided attention, which only made him feel more self-conscious.
“I’ve been thinking. It wouldn’t be very hard to make people think that we—well, you know my reputation. It wouldn’t be hard to make people believe that I—that we
slept together
—without really having to.”
She grinned to patronize him but didn’t mask her confusion. “And why would we do that?”
“Because you said you feel like a walking target. If people thought I’d taken care of that for you, and they wouldn’t question that, problem solved.” He took another bite of pizza and chewed, pretending to act casual, even though his nerves were doing jumping jacks at the moment. He didn’t know why he was so nervous. The fact she still hadn’t said anything didn’t help.
“You don’t have to give up, Rhees. You can still save yourself for that man of your dreams.” He grew quiet as he finished his proposal. “But if everyone here
believed
. . . you know, since it’s
me
we’re talking about, it would only take half a second to convince the entire island.”
“You’re saying we could just pretend like I finally succumbed to your . . . charm.” She stared at him.
“At least it would get the
creepazoids
off the list—that is my new favorite word, by the way.” He chuckled. “But the problem is, I’m not the only guy who has the hots for you.” He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, still nervous.
She looked skeptical and shook it off. She didn’t believe him.
“Rhees, half the guys on the island are salivating, waiting in the wings for me to have my way with you or step aside so they can finally have their turn.”
“No way. That is
not
true.”
“Seriously? How do you not know how
freakin’
desirable you are?” He grinned his bashful grin. He was beginning to appreciate the influence she continued to have on him.
“I have always been
quite
average. Unexceptional even.” She shook her head. “
You
only want me because you can’t have me.”
His face turned sullen before her eyes as he thought about what she said. He looked down, saddened at the truth of it. “There may be some truth to that.”
“Yes,” she said in a sing-song voice, celebrating being right.
“
Some
truth. You didn’t let me finish,” Paul said. “In the beginning . . . possibly, but not anymore,” he said thoughtfully.
“Anyway, I worry if everyone thinks I had you and then moved on, it’ll be open season on you.” He thought about it a few more seconds. “It can’t just be a one-night stand. You’d never go for that and everyone knows it.”
“You really have put some thought into this.” She sounded genuinely surprised.
You have no idea how much I think about you.
He stared at her for a minute. “We need a relationship. I’m not saying we need to
really
have one, we only need to convince everyone we’re a couple.”
She laughed and it took her, Paul thought, much too long to stop.
“Why Paul, are you
pretending
to ask me to go steady?”
He stared at her again and then smiled a big, goofy smile. “I didn’t really think of it like that.” He looked lost in thought for a minute and finally, a mischievous grin formed on his face. “Wait here a minute.”
He got up and left. He returned a few minutes later and handed her something. A piece of paper, folded too many times.
“What’s this?” She took it from him, amused and smiling with curiosity.
He sat down next to her and shrugged. “I dunno, some guy asked me to give it to you.”
She tentatively started unfolding, looking up at him with each bend of the paper. Just before the last fold, she could see the crude handwriting inside, as if it were written by a child. She lifted the sheet, opening it up fully and stared at it.
Danarya, will you go with me?
Please mark the box
Yes [ ] or No [ ]
Paul
“Oh my gosh!” she squealed with delight. She burst out laughing. “I haven’t received one of these since fifth grade.”
“Kindergarten through fourth grade,” he said, reminiscing, sounding like the memory made him tired, “the girls chased me every recess. If they caught me, they ganged up and kissed me until the recess supervisor pulled them off and gave me a head start again. Getting mobbed is scary shit for a little kid. I still break out in a cold sweat when I hear anything that sounds like a recess bell.” His brows knit together. “Fourth
grade, the notes started, and I got them up until seventh grade.” He chuckled.
“Well, actually, I got them all through high school, they just got more sophisticated—with things attached, like candy bars, balloons . . . condoms.”
That made her bulge her eyes at him, and he shrugged shyly again. It embarrassed him, but it was just the truth of his life. He had no control over how the girls had always reacted to him. He handed her a pencil.
“This is
my
very first love note. Please be kind.”
“First one? Ever?”
He nodded and stared down at his note. “I told you my first-time story. You know I kind of skipped over the whole puppy-love stage of life.”
She frowned at how sad that was, but she read his note again. Such a sweet gesture, even if it did say
Danarya
. She chuckled to herself. “Well that explains why you suck at the whole wooing thing.”
“What are you talking about?” He sounded honestly wounded. “I submit into evidence all the instances you have personally
witnessed
me
not sucking
at wooing.”
“Nope.” She shook her head, trying to keep a straight face. “You absolutely
suck
at wooing. However, I think you’re very good at
being
wooed. It appears you learned how to
be
wooed at a very young age, but you never learned how to properly woo because you’ve never had to.”
She marked the box next to the word “Yes” and handed it back to him. He smiled shyly and stared at it. He looked so cute. She surprised him when she grabbed the note away from him again.
“Hey! It’s too late. You can’t take it back now,” he warned. “It’s the only evidence I have of my first successful
wooing
.”
She turned her back on him to fend him off while she drew several hearts and a few X’s and O’s on the note before handing it back to him.
“Just helping you build your case.”
He smiled a goofy grin again while they both stared at the note, and then he put his arm around her and gave her a quick kiss, close to her lips, but mostly on her cheek. She stiffened up and closed her eyes.
“Are you all right?” He looked at her with concern.
“Of course.” She put on a brave face and smiled. “So how does this work?”
“How does what work?” He gave her a squeeze, pulling her in closer to his side.
“Our
pretend
relationship.” She waited a second and then pulled back to her original position, close but not touching.
“Oh.” He squirmed. “I’m not exactly an expert on relationships. Maybe this falls more under your department.”
“Um . . . okay.” She thought about it for a minute and then giggled. “You know, we’ve already been doing what I would picture us doing if things were really going to move in that direction.”
“That direction?” His eyebrows shot up. Hers went down.
“A relationship—the kind
I
would have.” She felt her face grow hot. “We’ve had dinner together, ice cream. You’ve been walking me home, sleeping on my couch. You’ve been by my side through all this . . .” She shouldn’t have let herself think about what she was going through. Paul had actually managed to distract her from all of it through the evening.
“But we’re not talking about the kind of relationship I’d have.” Her tone reflected the dark thoughts that had suddenly returned. “Maybe this falls under your department after all.”
“Oh. Yeah.” They sat in silence for a while. Paul could tell he’d lost her to her bad memories again and he wished he could bring happy Rhees back. “There’s a big contrast between what I would do and what you would do. We’re going to have to find something in the middle if this is going to be believable.
“You’re right. You’d need me to take things slow. I guess, for now, we just keep doing what we’ve been doing. We’ve spent the last several nights together. People are already giving me strange ‘You sly dog’ looks, but eventually, we’ll need to do something more—no one’s going to believe I’d hang around for long if I wasn’t getting—we’ll need witnesses.”
“To witness what?” she yelped. “I thought this was just pretend.”
“Get your mind out of the gutter, girl.” He chuckled. “Geeminy, is that all you think about?”
Bingo.
He’d made her smile again. “I’ll think about it, figure it out.”
“Are you sure you want to do this? You’ll be giving up a lot. I don’t understand why you want to do this for me.”
“I’m not letting you out of my sight. We’re going to be hanging out together, like glued-stuck, Siamese-twin together.” Now it was his turn to have dark thoughts. He’d become hypersensitive to every slimy thing he’d heard spoken about her since she’d arrived on the island—including his own. “I blame myself for what happened. No one is going to have the chance to hurt you again.”
“It wasn’t your fault—”
He put his finger over her lips. “Don’t.”
He used his taking-no-sass tone of voice, and she didn’t push him. “I’m staying with you. Here—at your place—it doesn’t matter. I’m not leaving you alone. I’ll sleep on the couch, the kitchen table, the porch if I have to. I don’t care. But since we’re going to be together anyway, I think we may as well let people believe there’s more going on than there really is. No one will bother you if they think you’re mine.”
“You’re like a wolf,” she said after thinking about it for a while.
He looked at her quizzically.
“You’re the alpha male in the pack. Everyone knows it. No one questions it, except maybe a few newer guys . . .
like Mario
.” Her expression changed, remembering once again. “But it doesn’t take long for most of them to figure out that it’s you.”
“Pfft.” He wasn’t quite sure if her analogy was complimentary or not.
“I’m not sure I’m a good enough liar.”
“We shouldn’t have to lie. I think we just act the part, let their imaginations do the rest.”
She sat up straight, quiet for a minute. “It would be easier if you just, you know—what I asked before.”
“I told you, I won’t do that. Rhees, neither one of us want you to do that as a result of some screwed-up idea, provoked by a psycho sleazeball.” Anger leached from him and he felt her pull away a little because of it. He felt bad about it and reeled in his temper.
“I think we can pull this off, and you won’t have to compromise your dreams.” He put his finger gently on her chin and pulled her face around to look at him. “I don’t want you compromising anything.”
“You’re being very considerate of
me
, but I’m not sure
you
can do this,” she murmured. “If we’re supposed to be in a relationship—that means you’ll have to abstain. You won’t be able to be with other girls. You know that, right?”