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It didn't take a degree in rocket surgery to figure out what the news had been. Nell had told Pat about the baby. Pat had lost it and thrown the chair. Despite their separation. Despite their divorce. Shoulders bowed, Pat seemed lost, wounded. Nell looked about the same. It still didn't give him license to start throwing furniture through shop windows, however.
The amount of yelling, drama, and violence in the last seven days had been insane. In total contrast to my family's own studied indifference. As if caring too much was an error, an embarrassment. Fact is, by the time things disintegrated to this degree, my parents would have long since moved on. I'd been given the same option and yet here I stood.
Staying was the right decision. It was.
Meanwhile, Masa swore while Boyd stood back, scowling.
"Christ, Lydia," said Pat, eyes anguished. He rubbed at his face with both hands. "If I'd hurt you ... shit."
A police siren wailed in the distance.
"It's okay," I announced to one and all. Despite all evidence to the contrary. "Everything's fine."
"What a mess," said Nell, a tear trailing down her cheek.
I could only agree.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Baths were a girl's best friend. Screw jewelry, chocolate, and those other things. A big old tub full of warm water had them all beat. Advil wasn't bad either. Despite the monumental bruise covering my side, my hip hardly hurt.
I lay my head back against the rim of the tub, staring off into space. Trying to think constructively about my life, but not really succeeding.
Nell and Vaughan had talked to the police while the rest of us cleaned up the mess. It took a while for Joe to arrive with supplies to board up the window. Joe had stayed with Pat while we drove Nell back to her apartment. All in all, another crazy long night in Coeur d'Alene with the Hewson family and friends.
The voice of doubt had been running through my head. Of course it had. These people were batshit. I was insane to even consider staying here and throwing my lot in with the Dive Bar. Only, when I walked Nell up to her apartment, she'd thrown her arms around me, holding on tight.
I liked that.
As harsh as it sounds, if Vaughan was leaving, sooner rather than later might be for the best. Emotional upheaval and mass confusion where he was concerned had gotten old. He made my vagina happy. Deliriously so. But the rest of me felt tired. Or maybe it was just my head and my heart, the thinking and feeling bits. I'd already faced one major rejection this year, care of my ex-fiance. Two was getting a bit ridiculous.
At first, I didn't register the quiet knocking. Only when it continued, accompanied with Vaughan opening the bathroom door a little to peek into the room, I sat up in a rush, hugging my knees to my chest, covering up all of the essentials. Like he hadn't already seen everything. A cascade of water splashed over the edge onto the floor. Oops.
"Just checking you hadn't fallen asleep," he said.
"No, I'm fine."
"Mind if I come in?"
I opened my mouth to make excuses. But no go. The door opened wide and he stepped in, some thick candles in one hand and two bottles of beer in the other. He set the whole lot on the bench beside the basin, pulling a book of matches out of his jeans pocket. Small flames blossomed in no time. A finger flicked off the light, plunging the room into romance mode.
No. So much no.
"Vaughan." I couldn't manage a smile. I just didn't have one in me.
With a flick of his wrist a bottle cap fell to the floor. "Here."
"Thanks." Icy glass chilled the palm of my hand. "Um. I'm not really in the mood for sexual healing..."
Another bottle cap fell and he knelt by the tub, resting an arm on the rim. After taking a healthy swig, he just looked at me, not saying anything. To have him all up close and personal didn't feature on my list of goals right now. I needed space to figure shit out. Not only to plan, but to understand, what the future would look like here without him.
"Lydia--"
"You know, I don't really want to talk either. Sorry."
"Okay." His eyes were so sad.
The urge to take it all back was huge. But I didn't. I couldn't. Survival skills had to kick in eventually. Protect my idiot heart from getting more wrapped up in him. I was also still rather pissed at him for earlier.
"Thought you should know," he said. "Made a decision. I'm going to head out Monday morning."
"Oh." This was it, the date had been set. My mind emptied, just blanking. It took a moment to find words. "Okay. Right. I'll get organized tomorrow. Get my things out of the way. Nell said I could crash with her for a while. Store my things at the bar."
"I'll help you move."
"Thanks."
We just stared at each other.
He looked away first, glancing at the door. Obviously unhappy. My fingers itched to stoke away the furrows in his brow. To give him comfort and take the same. I'd been lucky with the Chris thing. The way it had come apart, I'd been almost ecstatic. To have avoided falling into his evil marital clasp was wonderful. There'd been anger and embarrassment too. Lots of emotions clouding the scene. But a hell of a lot less heartache than there should have been. Then there likely would be with Vaughan.
"I'll give you your privacy," he said, still not moving.
"We could not have sex."
His brows rose.
"And not talk," I proposed. "Just drink our beers and hang out together. If you want?"
He blinked. "Sure. We could do that."
"Okay."
"Do you mind if I get in?" He nodded to the tub.
"Both of us naked in a tub?" Most dubious.
"Right." He winced. "Might make it a little hard on the no-sex thing."
"Hard. Haha."
A smile. He rose and started toeing off his shoes, pulling off his socks. Basically, not following the recently reached agreement. "I have the answer."
"You do?"
"Yeah. Pull the plug, let some of the water out." With no further warning, he climbed into the tub still dressed in jeans and tee. Not quite normal.
"Vaughan!" I yanked out the plug before we flooded the damn house. "What are you doing?"
"Hanging out with you. Not having sex." The man stood, waiting for the water level to decrease. After a minute, he crouched down behind me, long legs pressing against my back. "Babe, scoot forward a little."
"Shit." I did as told. "But your clothes?"
"They're due for a wash."
I snorted. "I see. Great way to save water."
"Environmental warrior. That's me. This is a bit of a tight squeeze. Hang on." His arm went around my middle for as long as it took to pull me back and up. An easy enough thing to do in the water. Legs stretched out beneath me and I sat on a rough lap. Wet denim made for about as comfortable a seat as you'd imagine. At least I wasn't wearing it. Could you imagine the chafing?
I reinserted the bath plug before we lost all of the water. "Yeah, this doesn't feel sexual at all. Me sitting naked on your lap, bathing by candlelight."
"God, you've got a dirty mind."
I gave him a look over my shoulder. Hopefully it conveyed my complete lack of trust.
"I respect your wishes, Lydia. Nothing's going to happen." Eyes wide and innocent, he drank his beer.
"Mm-hmm."
"Shh. You didn't want to talk."
Asshole.
Spine straight, I sat there, sipping my drink. True to his word, nothing was said, no move was made. Gradually, I began to relax. I blame the shadows cast by the candles. Those flickering flames lulled me. Eventually, I rested my back against his wet-shirted front, got comfortable.
"I'm sorry I yelled at you earlier," he whispered.
"Again."
"Yeah." A heavy sigh. "Again."
"One day, maybe, you might want to talk to someone about all of this. Your parents passing..."
Silence. Lots and lots of silence. I prepared myself for the boom. More yelling and swearing, et cetera. He'd made it perf
ectly plain that he didn't wish to discuss these sorts of things. Yet there I went meddling, diving right back in where my nose did not belong. What an idiot good intentions made of you. Because the thought of him carrying this pain around for the rest of his life hurt. It hurt bad.
So yeah, I waited.
Instead of rage, however, he kissed the side of my face. It was with closed lips. Chaste. Tears welled in my eyes, my breath hitching. Stupid heart.
"Talk to me," I said.
"About what?"
"I don't know. Tell me a story."
"All right." He cleared his throat, his chest rising and falling in perfect rhythm against my back. Pity, being with him always felt so right. My life would be far safer, more straightforward, if I'd been able to retain some semblance of indifference. What had happened to all the cold hard lessons care of my parents? It seemed like ever since I'd seen the home porn of Chris and Paul going at it, something inside of me had come loose. It definitely wasn't desire. Closer to crazy, if anything.
