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I couldn't.
That was the problem.
I did feel better with her.
I felt better.
Flogging her was a release, sure. But it felt even more right to hold her after, to stroke her hair, to just be near her. It was the closest to happy I had been in six goddamn years.
Because I needed the former part of that from her, I might lose the latter.
That shit, yeah, it was proving hard to accept.
It shouldn't have felt that way.
I wasn't supposed to be making any connections, let alone ones that could run deep enough to hurt someday.
Yet here I was.
Fucking moron that I was.
"Yeah, maybe," I agreed, tipping back my beer, finishing it.
"Alright, I can tell when someone wants to be alone with their fucked up thoughts," Bobby declared. That was a bit of a new one. Inside, the man would never leave me the hell alone, even if I told him to. But, I guess, on the outside, he had a house and a woman, and, well, drugs to sell. "I'll see you sometime tomorrow, man. Buck up. You're out. Out is better than in even if out sucks."
With that, he was gone.
He was right, too.
Out was better than in even if out sucked.
For example, I got to have lights on until two AM so I could keep working on my pieces.
That, at least, was an improvement.
After that, too beat to keep my eyes opened, I showered and fell into bed, not bothering to set an alarm.
I saw those lashes.
I had gotten my ass handed to me enough times growing up to know how those were going to feel given a little time.
She wasn't coming.
When I heard the slamming at seven-thirty in the morning, I rolled over to stare at the ceiling, cursing Bobby as viciously as my vocabulary would allow.
Seven?
Fucking seven?
What was wrong with him?
But, knowing Bobby, if I didn't drag my ass down there and open the door, he would climb in through a damn window or some shit.
On that note, I rolled out of bed in my black and white plaid pajama bottoms and made my way downstairs, trying to work the cricks out of my neck as I reached for the locks.
Coulda knocked me over with a gentle fucking breeze when I saw Autumn standing there, Coop's leash in one hand, and a bag and tray wobbling a bit ominously in the other.
Her eyes drifted over me, spending a little extra time on my bare chest and stomach before flying back up a bit guiltily. Once she was looking at my face again, she shook her head. "You shouldn't have said anytime after seven if you like to sleep later than that!" she accused, prompting Coop to bark along with her from his position on his ass, bouncing around though like maybe he had been given a command to sit and stay, and was trying really hard to obey even though he was excited.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, voice sleep-rough even to my own ears.
"We had an agreement. If I didn't hate you or regret what we did, I show up here, and we move on. I don't hate you or regret what we did. Oh, and Peyton would like to know if any of your brothers are single and similarly rough sex inclined."
"Peyton knows?" I asked, feeling that shame shit rear its ugly head again.
"Yeah, I asked her to help me put some aloe on. The marks were mostly gone by the time I got home. My skin is sensitive, but it recovers fast. Relax," she added, giving me an easy smile. "Peyton is into this kinda thing. She certainly doesn't think any less of you for it. But I am under threat of her donning her creepy clown mask again and scaring the shit out of me if I don't get an answer about the brothers."
I felt my lips curve up, shaking my head. "They're all taken."
"Pity. She's not going to like that. Well, anyway. I'm here. I brought coffee and food and this hellbeast who thought that my purse was a good chew toy this morning," she explained, curving her shoulder to show me the half-gnawed leather strap.
"Little shit," I said affectionately, reaching down to unclip his collar. "Go hog wild. There's nothing you can destroy in here," I told him as he bolted.
"See, now that wasn't very smart. He is going to see that as a challenge."
She moved to take a step forward, but I stepped in front of her, raising my arm to rest on the doorjamb, leaning down to catch her gaze. "Seriously, honey, what are you doing here?"
She exhaled hard at that, like something I said was pissing her off, but she was trying to control her frustration.
"Listen," she said, putting her now-free hand on my hip. "I get that you have this shitty, warped opinion of yourself right now, and it's hard for you to see through any other kind of lens. But that isn't how I see you. And short of you telling me to fuck off, I'm not going anywhere. So just buck-up and get used to it, sparky," she demanded, hand moving from my hip to tap into the center of my chest.
