36. Cassidy
CASSIDY
I was trying really damn hard not to be mad at him.
After all, he’d given up everything to stay at home with me, even if I hadn’t initially wanted it.
And as much as it pained me to admit it, he saved my life.
There’s no way I would have survived with my mother at my house, and I knew I couldn’t do everything on my own.
I was getting better, able to maneuver things more easily, but Sam made everything so much simpler.
But leaving me at the shop for over eight hours while he was at the gym, without so much as a check-in after the first one, was pushing it. My body ached from the uncomfortable chairs, and since JR and Josie had to leave early, I was left with nothing to eat for dinner.
I was hangry, but I was hiding it as best as possible. Sam had sacrificed a lot for me, and I didn’t want to seem ungrateful.
“What do you want for dinner?” he asked as we pulled up to the house.
“Something fast. I could eat a horse.”
“I can whip up something healthy and—”
“Just order from The Beaver. It’ll be faster and greasy.”
“Greasy is what we’re trying to avoid,” he smirked.
“No, it’s what you’re trying to avoid. I’m trying to get my fill of bad food.”
With a grin, he conceded. “Fine, I’ll help you inside and then I’ll get your food.”
“I’ll get myself inside. You get my food before I decide to eat you instead.”
He opened his mouth to no doubt say something perverted, but I stopped him instantly.
“It’s not at all what you’re thinking, and it will not be pleasant.”
But did he listen to me? No, he got out and insisted on getting me inside since the stairs were still icy. Yes, I was grateful. Yes, he made my life easier.
But I was starving.
“Keep the door locked, and don’t answer for anyone but me.”
I saluted him, forgoing rolling my eyes because I knew it would only piss him off.
I fully intended on watching some much-needed television, but as soon as I sat down, my eyelids felt like they were weighing my whole body down.
I sank into the couch and was out like a light until I felt myself being lifted sometime in the middle of the night.
It was dark in the house as I was carried into the bedroom.
Not a single light shone on Sam, but I knew it was him.
I recognized the strength in his arms and the firm set of his chest. As I curled into him, I wished this was something I could have every night, that this warmth I felt around me could last forever.
I knew it wasn’t possible, that Sam would never love me, but that didn’t stop me from dreaming about it.
“Are you awake?” he murmured as he laid me down in bed.
I hummed in answer, still feeling the heavy pull of sleep.
“Do you want dinner?”
I couldn’t even think of eating right now. Not when I was so exhausted. I would pay for it in the morning, but for now, all I wanted was him to lay beside me and wrap me in his arms.
When he pulled away, I caught his shirt between my fingers, tugging him back to me. “Stay.”
I felt the hesitation in his movements, how he slowly undressed as if he wanted to change his mind.
I didn’t dare ask why. I already knew the reason.
He was getting too close to me, and he knew that was becoming a problem.
I could read him like a book. He was already planning his exit.
This afternoon proved that when he stayed longer at the gym, when just this morning, he was worried about leaving my side.
“Just a few days until Christmas,” he murmured as he tucked himself around my body. “Got any plans?”
“I usually go to my parents for Christmas Eve and spend the night,” I said on a yawn. “That won’t happen this year.”
“Why not?”
“I need my bed. What about you?”
“I’m not sure,” he said after a moment. “I guess I’ll be with Blake and her family.”
A large part of me crumpled under the weight of his confession. Was it really that big of a deal? Not at all, yet it felt like a rift forming between us. I would just have to enjoy what little time I had left with him.
“How was training?”
“Good. I almost forgot what it was like to be in the ring.”
He hadn’t been back since the hit-and-run. He’d spent all his time taking care of me at the expense of his career. Most women would start to get ideas about what that meant. Not me. I always knew our time would come to an end.
“Our secret isn’t a secret.”
“Hmm?” I craned my neck back to meet his eyes.
“I stopped by the station today. Bea told me we weren’t fooling anyone. She said everyone’s known about this from the beginning. It’s some kind of game to them.”
“You mean, all this time we’ve been sneaking around and everyone knows?”
“Guess we weren’t as careful as we thought.”
“I’m not complaining,” I grinned. “It was hot.”
“Yeah?”
His lips trailed along my neck, making me forget how angry I was at him earlier for leaving me at the shop for so long without a word. This was the problem with our relationship. Practically anything could be fixed with sex.
But as he slid his fingers down between my legs and stroked my clit, I pushed away the doubts and the insecurities, and thought only of how good he could make me feel.
This might not last forever, but I could enjoy it while it lasted.
I was not in the Christmas mood, nor did I have the desire to go anywhere for the day.
And it showed.
As I sat at the table on Christmas Eve, my family walked on eggshells around me as every comment they made was met with a scowl or an indifferent comment. I was the Grinch, and I was ruining things for everyone.
“Honey, why don’t you take a nap?” my Aunt Marjorie asked, patting my hand gently.
“I don’t need a nap. All I do is nap.”
“Maybe it would help if—”
Sighing, I tossed my napkin on the table and shoved to my feet, nearly falling over the leg of the chair as I tried to grasp my crutches. Dad was there in an instant, handing them to me before I fell on my ass.
“What’s wrong, sweet pea?” he whispered.
I nearly broke at the softness in his voice. My dad had a way of breaking down my anger and twisting it until I could laugh. Right now, I desperately needed that.
“I don’t know. Nothing’s been the same since the accident. I’m just so…angry all the time.”
Except when I was with Sam.
But he wasn’t here. He didn’t want to be anywhere near me or anything that resembled a family gathering where he might be construed as my lover or boyfriend.
“It’s going to take some time to get over what happened. You know I’m here for you.”
Sighing, I leaned against his shoulder, taking what little comfort I could from him. “I know, and I appreciate that. I’m just not in the mood for any of this right now.”
“Do you want me to take you home?”
I looked up at him, practically in tears as he smiled down at me. “Really?”
“Of course. I hate for you to be alone on Christmas, but if that’s what you need, I’ll do it.”
Giving him a bear hug, I relaxed for the first time today. “Thanks, Dad.”
Ten minutes later, I was walking back through my door, into the peace and quiet I so desperately needed. It didn’t really make me feel any better. In fact, it was a little depressing. But since I was already in a bad mood, it certainly didn’t hurt.
“If you change your mind, give me a call and I’ll pick you up.”
He pressed a kiss to my forehead and left me to my loneliness. Hobbling over to the couch, I sank down and propped up my leg, grabbing the remote before I was too comfortable to move again.
As I flicked through the channels, I decided to go against my instincts and instead put on the least Christmasy movie I could find, which was pretty damn hard to do on Christmas Eve.
I was just getting into Casino Royale when the door opened and Sam walked in. My mood lifted instantly at the sight of him, and when he grinned at me, I knew he was escaping just like I had.
“Thought you’d be spending the night at your parents’ house.”
“I kicked myself out.”
“Why?”
“There was this guest who was crabby and ruining things for everyone.”
“Yeah?” he came over, lifting my leg up onto his lap as he took a seat at the other end of the couch. “Who was that?”
“Me. I was the Grinch.”
“I thought Christmas was your favorite.”
I shrugged, turning my attention back to the movie. “Just wasn’t into it this year.”
“So, all the lights and decorations were for nothing?”
My eyes swept the room, coming to rest on my beautiful tree. It was still a sight to see, but it just didn’t lift my spirits like it usually did. “Maybe.”
Pulling off my sock, he started massaging my foot. He had no idea how much I needed this. I was overcompensating all the time, using my only good leg, and sometimes I got cramps in my foot and calf from overuse.
“Mmm, that’s amazing.”
“I’m an amazing masseuse. You should see what I can do with other areas of your body.”
I playfully thumped my cast on his leg, earning me a chuckle. “I meant your shoulders.”
“Sure you did.”
Still laughing, he nodded to the TV. “No Christmas movies?”
“Not tonight.”
“I bet he’s your favorite.”
“Who? Daniel Craig?”
He nodded. “All the ladies love him. He’s the most fit.”
“Well, he does that thing where he walks out of the water in that tiny bathing suit.”
“That is no bathing suit, and no self-respecting man wears something that small.”
“I think women all around the world would disagree with you.”
“So, if I walked out of the water in a swimsuit that small, you would drool over me and take me home as your lover?”
“Well…I mean, I’d have to see you in it first. Your thighs might be a little big.”
“A little big?” he blurted out. “Excuse me, but I have appropriate-sized thighs for a boxer.”
“Exactly. You’re almost too bulky. Not that I’m complaining. I love your muscles, but if I were to put you in a suit, you’d probably rip the fabric.”
“Thank God I’ll never have to be in a suit,” he muttered.
“Well, maybe someday. I mean, if you’re going to a wedding, you might want to wear one.”
“Yeah, I can’t think of a single time I’ve ever been invited to a wedding where I wore a suit.”
“Then your own wedding,” I teased. “No woman wants to walk down the aisle in a gorgeous gown, only to see her potential husband wearing slacks and a polo.” I chuckled at the image in my head, but immediately realized my mistake when the lines around his face tightened.
Seconds dragged on to minutes where neither of us spoke.
I’d committed a major faux pas by bringing up the M word.
Marriage was not on the table, and by saying it, it was like I was testing the waters to see where he stood now that we’d been living together for a while.
That was one mistake I would never make again.
“Do you think about that often?” he asked once I was engrossed in the movie again.
“Think about what?” When I turned to face him, I wished I hadn’t. There was a tightness to his voice, and stress lines around his eyes. All this from a simple teasing statement. The man did not want to get married, and by bringing it up, I had only ruined the night.
“Your future husband.”
I was so thrown by his willingness to discuss the subject that I didn’t know how to answer.
“Um…not really. I mean, I think about what it might be like someday.”
“What do you think about?”
I huffed out a laugh, knowing anything I said from here on out would only dig a relationship grave I couldn’t climb out of.
“Why are we talking about this?”
“You brought it up.”
“I was teasing you about your unwillingness to wear a suit.”
“And you brought up marriage.”
“In the general sense of how it related to the conversation. I wasn’t asking about your wedding preferences.”
But nothing I said would stop this runaway train. He was already looking at me differently, ready to flee the house if I so much as even said something that led him to believe I wanted to marry him.
“I think I’ll go to bed. I’m beat.”
He gently placed my leg back on the couch and hurried down the hall, leaving me all alone with the bomb that just imploded and tore what fragile bits of our relationship remained to shreds.
It was all coming to an end. I could feel it, and when things got too hard for him, he would only run away.