32. Chapter 32
Chapter 32
Corbin
I don’t know why I keep thinking of excuses to prolong my time with Avery. You’d think I would have gotten my fill of her last night. She spent the night in my bed, and I’d slept with my arms wrapped around her. Come to think of it, I slept better last night than I have in a long time. I refuse to consider that Avery’s presence in my bed is the cause of it. I’d just been worn out from the amazing sex we’d had. That’s all .
I work at convincing myself that for the entire walk to the diner. I keep trying to force myself to believe it the whole time she studies the menu while I try not to stare at her. What the fuck is wrong with me? I’ve never been this hung up on a woman before. Not even back when I convinced myself I was in love with my high school girlfriend in my senior year. She’d been a cheerleader taking a walk on the wild side with a bad boy from the wrong side of the tracks. I’d been just dumb enough to believe she liked me for more than the way I pissed off her old man. I’d been wrong, of course. Opposites attract is only a story people like to tell so they can pretend it’s possible. The real world isn’t like that. In the real world, the cheerleader dumps the bad boy for the football player after the homecoming game.
But that doesn’t hold a candle to whatever this is now. Usually after a call from my mother I’m in a dark mood for several hours, if not days. I sometimes disappear into a black hole of alcohol and depression until I can drag myself back to the light. It’s not healthy, and I’m not proud of myself. But I’ve always struggled when it comes to her.
I know I’d been heading in that direction this morning. I’d almost forgotten Avery was in my apartment until I walked back inside and saw her standing there looking adorably rumpled in my shirt. My dark mood hadn’t vanished immediately, but it had taken a backseat to whatever this other feeling is. I still don’t want to consider it’s anything more than infatuation mixed with a healthy dose of lust. But whatever it is, I want more of it. Whatever sunshine she’s got that can chase away my darkness, I want to hold onto it. I need it. And that scares me more than anything else about this whole thing.
I know I need to get a handle on whatever this is before it goes wrong. And it will go wrong. It always does. Avery and I don’t make sense for anything long term. Hell, we don’t even make sense as casual fuck buddies. We’re complete opposites. From the outside, at least. But the more I get to know the real Avery, the more I wonder if she and I are more alike than we thought. Not that it will matter in the end. This thing between us will burn fast and hot and eventually fizzle out like all the others before. I’m just trying to enjoy the ride while it lasts. I’ve just about convinced myself of that by the time our food arrives.
Avery digs in with relish. There’s none of the shy nibbling one might expect from a girl like her. She isn’t trying to put on a show with me like some women I’ve seen. I don’t know her full story, but I know she comes from money. That had to have impacted her upbringing. How much it impacts her now isn’t totally clear. She definitely has the designer wardrobe and the fancy vocabulary, but she’s not afraid to get her hands dirty. Or to eat like a 14-year-old boy in the middle of a growth spurt. I nearly laugh as she shoves a forkful of waffle into her mouth that I hadn’t thought would fit in there .
“I take it you like the food?” I ask, letting her hear my amusement.
“Mmhmm,” she says, mumbling around a mouthful of food.
She quickly chews and swallows, wiping her mouth on a napkin. Then she glares at me, but there’s no heat in it.
“Don’t ask questions as soon as I put food into my mouth,” she says.
“Why not? It’s funny to watch you struggle to answer.”
She rolls her eyes and takes a sip from her glass of water. “Yes, the food is delicious,” she says when she lowers the glass. “Sorry. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until it was in front of me.”
I lean across the table just a little. “Don’t apologize for enjoying something. That’s kind of the point.”
A pretty blush stains her cheeks and I know she’s not thinking about food any more than I am right now.
“You’ve got to stop making me think dirty thoughts in public,” she murmurs.
“Why? It’s fun to watch you get worked up.”
She shakes her head, smiling. “Eat your omelet,” she says gesturing toward my plate with her fork.
Still grinning, I pick up my fork and do as she says.
“What are your plans for the rest of the day?” she asks between bites.
I shrug. “All the boring day off shit, I guess. Laundry, grocery store, clean the apartment. You? ”
“You mean after I go home and put on some clean clothes and some underwear?”
My gaze drops lower as if I can see through her jeans to her bare pussy. “You’re not wearing anything under those jeans?”
She rolls her eyes, but I can tell she’s not indifferent to me. “Nope,” she says. “Why? Is that bad?”
I shake my head. “No. I just wish you’d worn one of those sexy dresses yesterday instead of jeans.”
“Yeah?” she says, leaning toward me. “Why is that?”
“Because I would have sat beside you instead of across from you,” I say, my voice low and husky. “And I’d have tried to get you off in front of all these people without them knowing.”
Her eyes widen slightly, and she sucks in a breath. My name is a whisper on her lips, and I can’t help but close the distance between us for a kiss. It’s far less of a kiss than the one I’d like to give her right now, but it’ll have to do for now. She tastes like syrup and sunshine, and it makes me want to deepen the kiss until we’re both panting for air. But I remember where we are and reluctantly break the kiss, leaning back. Avery’s slightly dazed expression almost makes me laugh.
My phone buzzes where it rests face down on the table beside my plate. I turn it over to see Henley’s name on the screen. After a second’s hesitation, I hit the button to silence the buzzing. I don’t normally ignore phone calls from my sister, but I’m enjoying my morning with Avery, and I don’t want to interrupt it. Not even by talking to one of the few people I actually like. Avery doesn’t comment on the phone call, but I see a small smile playing at the corner of her mouth as she sips her water.
I pick up my fork to finish eating, but my phone begins to buzz again. I see Henley’s name a second time and look up to see Avery’s knowing expression.
“Answer it,” she says. “I don’t want your sister to hate me because you won’t talk to her when I’m around.”
I smile. “Actually, she likes you,” I say, picking up the phone. “Give me a minute to see what she needs?”
She nods as I stand and make my way through the tables and out to a less congested area of the sidewalk.
“This better be good,” I say as a greeting.
“Nice of you to answer the phone,” Henley says, her voice bordering on angry.
“I was busy,” I say. “What’s up?”
“It’s Mom,” she says, the two words killing my good mood immediately.
My jaw clench is completely involuntary, as is the eye roll. “Yeah, she already called me this morning. Tell me you didn’t give her money, Hen.”
“Corbin, I’m worried about her,” Henley says. “She sounded really bad when we talked. Depressed.”
I work to reign in my temper. It’s not Henley’s fault she doesn’t know how awful our mother really is. I spent most of her childhood protecting her from it. Hiding the worst of it from her. When I moved out at 18, I made it seem like it was my idea for my 13-year-old little sister to come live with me. In reality, my mother had been so drug-addicted during my last year of high school that I’d known she couldn’t care for Henley without me there. The truth was, she couldn't even take care of herself. After Henley and I left, she got evicted from the shitty apartment she was living in. But not before the electricity and water had been turned off due to lack of payment and she’d been arrested for shoplifting groceries.
Those first couple of years had been hard, but I’d somehow managed to keep Henley in school and keep a roof over our heads. Looking back, I still don’t know how we survived. I know I was hungry a lot back then. But she never was. I made sure of that.
“Henley, she’s always like that,” I say. “I’m sure she’s fine.”
“She wants to see me,” she says. “For my birthday. She remembered.”
“I know,” I say. “She told me.”
“Were you going to tell me?” Henley sounds defensive and maybe a little angry now.
Sighing, I run a hand through my hair. “Yeah, Hen. I was going to tell you later today. I just had things going on this morning.”
There’s a long pause before Henley speaks again. When she does, the anger is gone. It’s replaced by something that sounds more like resignation or sadness.
“Corbin, I know you don’t like her,” she says. “And that you don’t want to see her. And I respect your choice on that. But you can’t make mine for me anymore. ”
She’s right. I know she is. But it doesn’t make the truth rankle any less.
“I know,” I say. “I’m not trying to make your decisions for you. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“You don’t know that’s what will happen.”
She’s wrong, though. It’s what always happens. Mom comes back into our lives and pretends to be interested. She says she wants to be involved. She wants to be present. It lasts for a month or so before she falls off the wagon again or gets arrested or is found unconscious or incoherent on a city bus. I’ve had calls from hospitals, churches, and police stations all over Boston over the years. One of these days I’m afraid I’ll get a call to come identify her body after she overdoses or pisses off the wrong dealer.
The worst part is that there’s a small part of me that knows I’d feel relieved if it happened. Those are the moments when I hate myself the most. And no matter what my mother has done to me, I don’t want Henley to end up the same way. I don’t want those dark thoughts to be part of her life. But I know I can’t stop her from seeing our mother if it’s what she wants to do. So, no matter how much I know it will hurt later, I can’t keep protecting her from the truth. And that pisses me off more than anything else.
“You can see her if you want to, Hen,” I say. “It’s your choice. I won’t stop you. But I don’t want to see her anymore.”
“Are you mad at me? ”
Her voice is small and reminds me of when we were kids and she used to intentionally drive me crazy. I’d eventually yell at her to go away and leave me alone. She’d sulk for a few minutes before coming back to my room and asking me in her tiny voice if I was mad at her. Which meant I could never stay mad at her for long.
“No. I’m not mad at you,” I say. “I just worry about you.”
“What’s new?” She says with a small laugh.
I smile, but I can’t quite find it in me to laugh. “You know I always will, right?”
“I know. But I’ll be okay. You can’t hide the bad things from me forever.”
The way she says it makes me wonder if she knows more about those years than I tried to let her see. But I’m too much of a coward to ask. Besides, now isn’t the time for that conversation. I glance back over to where Avery is still sitting at the table where I left her, waiting for me to finish my phone call. I feel a hint of the bright, sunny feeling from before, but it’s muted now.
“I gotta go, Henley,” I say. “I’ll call you later, okay?”
“I love you, you know.”
“I know,” I say. “Love you, too.”
I end the call and take a deep breath trying to push aside the dark feelings threatening to swamp me. I know I can’t stand here forever, trying to remember how not to be angry. Avery will wonder what the hell I’m doing. The last thing I want to do is explain to her that my mother is a druggie whose addiction ruined my childhood. I spent my teens and 20s angry at her. Until I grew up and realized that addiction isn’t as simple as that. It would be easier if I could blame my mother for her addiction. But that’s not how it works. Not that I can tell that to my anger. It’s still there, simmering under the surface, looking for a target.
I take a second to stretch my neck, rolling my head from side to side, trying to ease the building tension there. I tell myself there’s nothing I can do about my mother right now. Henley is going to see her if she wants to. And whatever happens is out of my control. It’s the truth, but it does nothing to alleviate my growing dread. Finally, I give up and decide to try and salvage the rest of the morning with Avery. If anyone can chase away the darkness in me, it’s her.