Wide Open (11 page)

He sighed and put his palms on my shoulders. "Babe, you are an over-worrier. I know how to use a phone."

"But you had a bad episode this week, and I don't feel right—"

"This is the guy who fixed the truck, isn't it?" he guessed.

I hadn't told Will about it because I didn't know what it meant, really. I didn't want to tell him a guy I'd only known for a month or so surprised me with fixing my truck as an apology for something he didn't even need to apologize for. Therapy and recovery are hard. We tend to rebel. It's not a big deal. We lash out. It happens. The guy didn't need to go to extremes to say he was sorry. But then Will got sick a couple days later. My phone was dead and I couldn’t find Will's anywhere. If I had gone to take him to the hospital and it wouldn't have started…I don't know what would have happened.

I don't know why these things happen. I don't know why Milo would have picked that week to lash out and then fix my truck. I don't know why Will had an episode that week when it had been months since he'd had a bad one like that. I don't know these things, but I couldn't help but be grateful to Milo for that chain of events.

I had been cautious about dating him. Dating anyone, really, but him because he hadn't been clean that long. But two years to an addict was a lifetime. He had been a number to me, a statistic, a project. A very sweet and charming project, but one nonetheless. But now, he was more than that. He was no longer someone who was cute and tried to charm me as I pushed him away; he was someone I wanted to pull closer.

I'd never felt that. That was pathetic on so many levels, but I was so young when my mom died, and I was never interested in real relationships. I just wanted to be numb, get high, and forget everything for the hour the drugs provided me. And when I got clean and started working, my work consumed me. When Dad died, my grief consumed me. Now my sick brother consumed me.

I'd never been at a point in my life where a relationship was even on my radar. And if Milo hadn't come and smashed my pretty fake plastered smile, replacing it with a real one, I still wouldn't be interested.

Was that wrong? Should I tell Milo the timing was off? Was I just grateful and that's why I felt so strongly about him? I didn't want to hurt him, and I didn't want to be hurt.

"Earth to smitten girl," Will said, waving his hand in front of me.

"Whatever." I rolled my eyes. "Yes, he's the one who fixed my truck. I owed him, okay? But after this, I think I'm going to…just tell him we should be friends." He gave me a dull look. "What? I am in no position in life to be falling all over some guy."

"What position do you think you need to be in? Everyone has things going on in their life, Maya. You just have to make room for the things that are important."
"You're important," I said, almost angrily. Taking care of him wasn't some pointless existence.

"And I'm right here," he soothed. He squeezed my shoulders. "Sis, you can't tell everything else in your life to take a hike just because I got sick."

"I want to take care of you."

"And you do." He sighed and hung his head. "I'm older. I'm supposed to be taking care of you."

"I like the job," I joked, but didn't smile.

"I'm just one little piece of the picture. You do an amazing job taking care of me. You sacrifice a lot. There's nothing wrong with taking a night for yourself. Hell, take twenty. Go out every night if that's what you want." He smiled crookedly and it reminded me of when we were kids. "I want you to be happy. I'm fine here." He laughed.

"You're not fine," I whispered.

"In fact, it's better when you're gone because no one makes me watch
Seinfeld
re-runs over and over and over..."

"You love it," I shot back wryly.

He shrugged. "Maybe. The Soup Nazi, at least."

I pushed my arms around his neck. "You're all I've got, Will. I'll always put you before any dumb guy."

"And I love you for it, but tonight I want you to go and have fun with this guy who is so smitten with my sister that he fixed her truck to surprise her." He looked at me closely. "That's huge, Maya. What guy does that?" he asked in awe.

"Milo," I answered and smiled. "Milo does that."

"Milo sounds like a keeper."

"Yeah," I said slowly, "but he's an addict, too."

"I hate that word, you know. There should be a new word for someone who was an addict but isn't anymore."

I smiled. He meant well, but someone who wasn't an addict would never understand. "Once an addict, always an addict, Will."

"But he's clean, yeah?"

I nodded. "Two years."

"So you're both…rehabilitation enthusiast. There, new word."

I laughed hard. "And what does that mean?"

"It means you're addicts, but you want to be clean
more
."

I smiled, feeling my eyes beg to water. "I love that."

"I love
you
," he insisted and then raised his head. "And I think Milo has arrived."

I turned to find Milo in the driveway. He was stopped about half way, looking at Will and me with a strange expression. He nodded when he saw us looking and I realized what this must look like. I pulled back and gave Will a look. I wasn't going to introduce them yet. Not yet. Will was a part of my life that was mine and sacred. He was all I had left in the world and I wasn't mixing that with first dates.

Will waved to Milo and went back inside. I had asked him to please call me even if he felt a little bad. I knew he was already because I could see it in the way he creased his brow.

I didn't want to leave, to be honest. As much as I liked Milo, and Will wanted me to have a life, with the week Will had, I didn't want to leave him.

I made my way down to him. He smiled, but it was a little strange. Strained. "Hey."

"Hey," he said gruffly and cleared his throat. "You look seriously gorgeous."

He looked back up to the house before back at me. "That was my brother Will. We live together."

"Ah," he said, and it was almost comical how much he relaxed. "The one I saved this week by fixing the truck. Care to explain that statement?"

I struggled with my scarf. I hated them honestly, but they were warm and I was always cold. They were functional, not fashion, but I grabbed one of the pretty ones for a night out with him. "Maybe later, if that's okay."

"Whatever you want." He helped me with my scarf, wrapping it around my neck a couple of times, which I was sure was some fashion faux pas. "It's freezing tonight. Ready to go?"

"Um…" I sighed. I felt awful, but I just couldn't. "Listen, um…I don't think we should…"

He stuck his hands in his pocket, a breath puffing from his lips. "Are we back to you thinking it's a bad idea?"

"No, I don't think that. I just… My brother's sick."

He squinted in sympathy. "Oh. The flu or something? That sucks."

"No. I, uh…" I swallowed.

"If you need to stay with him, you can," he said and bent down to be in my line of sight when I wouldn’t look up. "Maya, what's going on? This seems like something bigger than your brother getting the sniffles. Are you okay?"
"He's
sick
." I gasped a little at the fact that I told him like that. I covered my mouth with my hand and stared up at him. Just a few people even knew about it. I didn't tell anyone unless I had to.

His entire demeanor changed. He softened and put his arms around me, letting me bury my freezing nose in his chest. "You don't have to tell me anything, but you know that my shoulders are always warm, right?
I'm
always here if you ever need anything, or just want to talk. You're always helping people with their problems, but does anybody ever help you with yours?"

"A guy wanting to talk," I mused. "A true sign of the apocalypse."

He chuckled and leaned back. "That invitation is only for you, by the way. Your bossy, coffee mug friend is not invited."

I felt my smile. The twinge of guilt that came with that smile was present, but not as potent as usual. "Did she say something?"
"Only threatened my life. Nothing major."

"Aww," I crooned. "She's the sweetest boss ever." I felt his fingers on mine, but kept my eyes on his face. "And you're the sweetest guy. That's why I hate to do this to you. In fact," I closed my eyes, "you should probably just run now. I'm a basket case. My life is my job and my brother. I don't know…" I looked him right in the eye so he could see that I was serious. "I don't know how much I have left over after all that. I feel empty and drained, and the thought of dragging you into this makes me so sad. You're off the hook. You don't have to chase—"

He swooped down, capturing my face with his palms and kissing me softly. His mouth breathed hot life into me as I felt that kiss in every pore, every molecule. His hands were freezing, but I couldn't have cared if my life depended on it.

He licked my lips and I opened my mouth just enough to taste him. Hanging on to his arms, kissing him back, I heard his response loud and clear. He wasn't giving up the chase. And I didn't want him to. As selfish as that was, I didn't wanted him to stop.

He stopped slowly, stalling and slowing our movements to a snail's pace. He made an angry little chuckle under his breath. "This is ridiculous." He lifted his head just barely. "I can't stop kissing you. It's all I've thought about all day."

"You don't have to."

The smile sat crookedly on his lips. "Come on." He tugged my hand for me to follow him. "Let's go."

He was headed toward my apartment. I sighed. He was letting me stay and trying to not make me feel bad about it. And walking me to my door to boot. But when we got to the door, he opened it and started to scuff off his boots on the rug. "What…" I stopped my rude question just in time.

"I thought it was obvious." He grinned, daring me to say something. "I'm inviting myself in."

"Um, you don't have to—"

"Look." He gave me that look. The one that said he was serious, the one that said he was about to be so sweet, it made me ache. "You want to stay with your brother because he's sick, you're worried about him. Okay, I get that. It's not a problem. Stay. But I'm not ready to say goodnight yet. So," he continued, taking my hand and playing with the tips of my fingers, "we'll order some take-out, you can watch over your brother and I get to hang out with you. We can watch a movie or something."

I just stared. I didn't know that the male species even had the capacity to dream up a sweet plan like that. Apparently, I didn't give him enough credit. He winced when I didn't say anything. "If that's okay, of course. I wasn't trying to overstep." He nodded his head once, like he understood something. "You don't want me to meet him yet, do you? Yeah, I was moving things pretty fast, I guess." I tried to speak, but he backed up a bit and rubbed his hair. "I'll see you next week. I hope he feels better-"

"Milo, shut up," I scolded and laughed a breath. "A girl can't get a word in."

He stood silent, watching me. He was such a strange combination of cocky and insecure. One minute he was spouting how he was chasing me, no matter what, and then the next he was trying to skirt away with his tail between his legs.

"I don't want you to go; I'm just surprised you want to stay."

His jaw twitched. "This is where you are."

I didn't know my heart could hurt so good.

He took the end of my scarf and unraveled it from my neck gently as he continued, his face so close. "I've never met someone who made me feel…"

I wasn't sure if he trailed off or if that was his whole thought. I made him feel. That thought made my insides giddy, because he made me feel, too. It was always drugs. No boy or man had ever made me feel before.

It scared the hell out of me, yet made me feel like I was the only girl who mattered. How could someone you barely knew alter your life and perception so much? He made me question everything. I had been just surviving, taking care of my brother because I loved him and had to, but after he was gone, I didn't know what would become of me.

I was just existing, but he made me want to live.

"Stay," I commanded softly.

His lip lifted just a bit. "I like this bossy side of you. A lot."

I laughed under my breath. "I'll remember that. Come on, hotshot."

He barked a laugh as I grinned, walking backward. "She told you about that?"

"What, about her threatening your life? Yeah." I stopped at the door and loved how he took my fingers in his and toyed with them. I watched them, fascinated. "My brother—just don't say anything about him being sick or whatever. I don't really bring anyone here."

"It's okay." He lifted my chin. "Maya, it's okay."

"By the way, thanks for not jumping to conclusions and getting all mad about seeing me in the doorway with another guy. I saw your face. I'm sorry I forgot to tell you about my brother living here. Another guy probably would've been upset before I could explain," I assumed anyway.

"Well, a lot of arguments are based on assumptions. A lot of assumptions are made about me because I'm a guy, because I'm an addict, because I'm only twenty. You get my drift." I nodded. "So I try really hard not to assumption-jump as a way to hopefully send that karma back around to me."