Chapter 11 #2
"These guys found me outside the courthouse one day. I was taking a break from mentally beating someone to death, and they asked if I wanted some cash in exchange for running an errand." Shrugging, trying to dispel the weight of my guilt, I continued, "It was a no-brainer."
"Fooled you, didn't they?"
"You don't even sound judgmental when you say that."
"Because I'm not. I haven't walked in your shoes. How could I know what it was like for you?"
How had this woman come into my life at this moment? "Are you sure we're not on hidden camera or something?"
Bailey frowned. "What?"
"You're too perfect."
"Please, stop saying that. I'm really not perfect, I just try not to be a hypocritical piece of shit."
I had to stand up again, to move from the table and pace the living room.
Heidi picked her head up and watched me, and I spotted Charlie in the doorway leading to the bedroom.
There was Bailey, and there was me, and if I wanted to, I could easily convince her to slip into that room with me, to spend the night doing what we’d been denying ourselves for a while now.
It was clear she would be on board with it.
But then I would feel even worse about myself than I already did.
I didn't want to be a user anymore; someone who took pleasure where he could find it and then threw it away once it became a chore.
Spinning, I was startled to find Bailey standing directly behind me.
As I swallowed slowly, I let my heart beat out of control instead of trying to calm it.
"I know you think I'm some kind of goddess or whatever, and you must see yourself as the Antichrist." Sliding her hand up my chest, she curled her palm around my nape and rose on her toes. "We're neither, Van. We're just normal people trying to figure out the world."
And I couldn't deny her when she pressed her mouth to mine. How could I shove her back when I wanted to drag her closer? The taste of her exploded on my tongue; cinnamon—somehow always cinnamon—and fucking Bailey, a place and a feeling I wanted to latch onto for eternity.
Her body was soft enough to mold against mine, to press and angle in all the right places.
Enough of her, and I'd be drunk. At the same time, her fingers tangled in the hair at the back of my head, and I was dipping to reach her better, to grip her waistband and tug.
When I wanted to tear her clothes off, I paced myself instead.
Closer, so much closer, our faces bumped and changed direction.
She kissed my cheek, breathing into my ear as she struggled to remain on her toes.
"Van, please."
But I couldn't answer her prayers, so I led her to the couch instead.
Sitting, allowing her to climb onto my lap.
Face to face, heartbeat to heartbeat, we froze for a few seconds that felt as long as eternity.
Finally, she moved in, finding my lips once more.
The back of her shirt bunched under my questing fingers, and I got a hold of her skin at last. Just along her spine, feeling goosebumps rise in the wake of my touch, I ran the pads of rough fingers.
It didn't appear she cared about my calluses, since she moaned and rocked her hips.
Her body was a welcome pressure holding me to the earth, and I felt how hard I was rapidly becoming.
Too easy to fall for her, my brain screamed.
God, I was about to lose everything. My sanity, my courage, my mind. My chivalry, whatever might be left of it.
"Bailey." Speaking against her lips didn't stop her, so I gripped her chin to make her look at me. "Slow down."
Mortification ripped through me as I spotted the tears blooming along her lower lashes. Sliding back on my knees, she asked, "What did I do wrong?"
"You?" Shaking my head, I tried to wrap my brain around what I felt. I didn't mean to hurt her in any capacity. In fact, I was trying desperately to avoid hurting her further. "Not you; me."
"For once in my life, I don't want to be the responsible one. The stick in the mud, the good girl." Lifting her shoulder, she wiped her eye on her shirt.
"Well, for once in my life, I want to be that person. I'm sorry."
"I'm an idiot." Scrambling off my lap, Bailey wiped her face once more and stood across the coffee table from me.
"I didn't mean to pressure you. It's just that—" Breaking off, she pulled in a deep breath, her hand on her stomach.
"It's just that I like you so much, and I'm afraid that one day, I'll wake up and you'll have left town. "
I didn't know she felt that strongly about me. Personally, my thoughts and emotions were all over the place. "If we complicate things and I do have to leave, I don't think I can live with myself."
"That's the sort of thing I was afraid you'd say." She sniffled. "Because it proves you think about leaving."
She was fragile, a flower in full sun, fully open to me. I ached to let her in, but knew I couldn't.
"I might not have a choice. One day, they will find me. I'd rather they don't find me anywhere near you."
More tears spilled down her cheeks, and I felt like an even bigger asshole. "So all I can do is fear for your safety, while knowing you'll eventually go."
Running was all I knew. What I wanted instead was in front of me: falling slowly, diving deep, then rushing to the surface to grab a breath before being pulled to the bottom. The hurricane would sweep over me sooner or later, and I would lift my face to the pouring rain with arms wide open.
And then I would have to leave it behind, despite having just found it.