Chapter Twenty-Five #2
“I’ll make you some tea.” He left me, and I was grateful he did as I was pretty disgusted with my behavior.
After a while, I managed to rise from my prone position and ran the taps, rinsing my mouth out first, then splashing water on my face.
I glanced in the mirror and almost scared myself.
My eyes were hollow black pits, my skin almost gray.
“Some stud you are.”
I swished mouthwash and spat, found extra-strength pain reliever, and took three with water from the sink. That was about all I could do at the moment. My head still pounding, I left the bathroom and found Sterling sitting at the kitchen island, two steaming mugs of tea in front of him.
“Drink this.”
Head bowed, I took my seat and waited for my hands to stop trembling before picking it up and taking a sip. “Tastes like shit. I hate tea.”
“You’re welcome. What’re you doing here? I told you I was coming to you in the morning.”
“I couldn’t wait. I needed to see you.”
He pulled up a stool to sit next to me and took my hands. “Tell me what happened. I’ve never seen you like this. The Blades lost tonight’s game, I saw.”
“Yes. Because of me. I lost it. I’ve never given up as many goals in a game as I did tonight.”
“No, that’s not true. It’s not your personal loss.” He rubbed my back and leaned in to kiss my brow. “Don’t blame yourself. You’re part of a team. A loss isn’t only on you.”
“I can and I will. But that’s not even the worst.” I squeezed my eyes shut.
“I went to a bar after the game to drown my sorrows. I was angry and lonely. I had a few drinks, and the bartender I used to hook up with wanted to have sex. But I couldn’t because it wasn’t you.
I didn’t—don’t want anyone else but you. ”
“Denis…” Sterling began, his voice gentler, but again, I didn’t let him speak.
“I came home, and that’s when I called you asking to come over, but you said no. So, in my infinite wisdom, I took the bottle of wine from the refrigerator, drank some more, and thought, What other dumb thing can I do to fuck up my night? Oh, right. Let me talk to my parents.”
“Shit.” Sterling blanched and put his arms around me. “I’m sorry. Was it bad?”
“Worse.” Sterling’s warmth soaked through me, chasing away some of the coldness of my father’s nastiness. “He said I was disgusting, a sin.”
“Denis, no,” Sterling whispered, pressing his face to my hair. “Sweetheart. I’m sorry.”
I melted a bit at his endearment, knowing it was so pure and true.
“It’s not your fault. At least now I’ll never have to wonder what they think or if they’d changed.
” My laugh was watery. “I tried to talk to him, but he wouldn’t listen.
How could he say that? He doesn’t know anything about me.
Or you. Because you saved me from being that man I once was who would’ve slept with anyone to stave off the loneliness. ”
He kissed my face, my eyes, and rested his cheek to mine. “Meanwhile, I sat here feeling sorry for myself because of my mother, ignorant to the fact that shutting you out was hurting you too.”
“When I ended the call, I couldn’t stay home.
” Finally, I had the strength to lift my head and gaze into his face.
Those blue eyes I’d yearned to see shone with sympathy.
“I wanted your disgusting wheatgrass shots and those silly face creams and serums you put on. I want to see you in that red-light mask you think I don’t know you have hidden under the sheets in the back of the linen closet.
By the way, it makes you look like a space alien. Je te veux. You. Only you.”
“It must be love, then, if you’re talking wheatgrass and red-light masks,” he teased and held my face in the palms of his hands.
“And I know I don’t say it often, but I do love you.
So very, very much. Even tonight when you’re a mess.
” He kissed me. “Maybe even more because you’re the most real right now.
No posturing for your teammates or the cameras. Just me and you.”
“That’s all I want. One day everything else will end, and the only thing left will be the two of us. Toi et moi.” I kissed him.
“The two of us sounds like a pretty good thing,” Sterling said, his arm around my waist. My strength. “Come. Let’s put you to bed.”
I leaned on him, and he led me to the bedroom, where he took off my clothes.
I lay down, the sheets and pillow wonderfully soft and cool against my overheated skin.
Sterling undressed and lay beside me, the curves of our bodies naturally fitting together.
With all that happened, I’d thought I’d fall asleep without any trouble, but I remained wide awake, my mind racing, and from his breathing and body movements, I knew Sterling was up as well.
The meds had kicked in, and I was feeling better. I kissed his neck.
“We’ve been so busy lately, we’ve barely spoken. Anything new with the cable job? What’s happening with it?”
“I still haven’t heard. I’d tell you if I did.” He tensed, and under my lips, his pulse raced. “I-I might have to cancel our trip.”
“Why? Something with work?”
“No. It’s not that.”
Something wasn’t right. I sat up and turned on the bedside lamp. “Then what is it? Please, talk to me.”
“I got an email today from a lawyer. From LA. My mother died last night. I was going to tell you tomorrow morning.”
“Ahh, I’m so sorry, mon amour.” I touched his hand, but my brow furrowed in thought. “That makes no sense. Je ne comprends pas. Explain, please? Why would a lawyer email you?”