36: Freight Train

Bryce

     After Adele is on her way to school, I walk back into my room and see that Erin, of course, sleeps soundly. I decide to just leave my jeans on as I carefully lay down on the bed next to her. I find it funny that when I'd left her, she'd covered herself completely with the sheets. She's kicked them off and now looks quite content on top of them.

     I love watching her sleep. I'm tired myself, but I don't want to miss this opportunity to look at her without making her uncomfortable. A small smile crosses my face as I remember how I'd lost my head on that first Friday night and told her I'd love to just do nothing but look at her all day. It was supposed to be some form of a compliment that meant that but not those actual words, but brain function had been at a minimum. It got all messed up, and I said exactly what I was thinking.

     She'd been scared to death that night, and I acted like I was under some spell. I was so happy when she started kissing me back.

     She kissed him back too, I think as I close my eyes.

     Stop it! I order myself. It was a mistake. She came to her senses and ran here, forgetting there was no one at home.

       I take a deep breath and wipe my hand across my face. Damn it, I'm tired.

      I stubbornly open my eyes and look at her face. She doesn't know how beautiful she is. I really can't believe that. Maybe she knows and tries to tell herself otherwise.

      That doesn't make sense, I think as a sleepy haze clouds my vision for a few seconds before I quickly blink it away.

       I lie here and study her every feature. I never get to do this when she has her eyes open because they're so distracting. She has the cutest little amount of freckles dotting her perfect nose and cheeks. I find looking at her lips a little dangerous because the longer I look, the more I want to kiss her awake. I force my gaze to drop to her chin and jaw, but I keep finding myself cheating a little with quick, little glances, looking at her lips anyway.

     I'm drawn right in... like a moth to the flame, I can't resist leaning down and gently kissing her, hoping that maybe I won't really wake her up.
     She stirs just a little, and she must quickly realize what's going on because she then jerks back in surprise. No! I mentally plead and reach my hand around to hold her face to mine. One of her hands gets gently laid on my shoulder as the idea of just being gentle to not wake her flies out the window.

     Holy shit, I need you, Erin! I inwardly exclaim as I take full possession of her mouth and wrap my arms around her. I need to kiss her... nothing but kiss her forever. She simply cannot go back to him. If she leaves me, I'll die. 

     I'm scared out of my mind as I cling to this woman in my arms that holds such a power over me.
     Before I know what's happening, cruel, savage pain floods my being as memories from those first few weeks after Ashley left me hit me like a freight train. I remember waking up alone that first morning after she'd left... the devastating feeling when I'd had to sign the divorce papers... Adele constantly asking 'Where's Mommy?' I never want to feel loneliness like that again, ever. I can't stand the pain of having been so humiliated and rejected, so I only hold Erin tighter.

     No, I don't want to be thinking about these things! Why now?

     Please don't ever leave me, Erin, I think as I wrap my leg around her, pinning her completely to me. I can't let you go. She starts shaking.

     Wait... no. It's me that's shaking. I'm shaking like a leaf, and I hate it.

     The phrase 'kick a man when he's down' runs through my head as I start crying. 

    How could I let this happen?! I scream at myself inside my head, thinking about how I'm crying. I feel Erin's hands on my cheeks, wiping away those damn tears. Get a hold of yourself! 

     I break the kiss because I desperately need air. I feel completely undone. I hate that she sees, but I can't let go of her.

     "Shh," she says quietly while continuing to wipe my cheeks. I keep my eyes closed and manage to get the tears to stop.

     "I'm sorry," I whisper quietly before burying my face into her neck and shoulder. Trace amounts of some perfume or something distract me enough to help me relax just a little. I wish the shaking would stop. It's embarrassing.

      "It's okay," she whispers, and then she repeats it over and over again. With each one, I have to fight to keep myself from holding her too tight and maybe hurt her. She works one of her hands free enough to run her fingers through my hair, and the shaking finally stops. I'm exhausted.
     I don't want to talk; I just want to hold her -- to hold onto her as I fight the horrible memories. She gets quiet like she's waiting for me to say something. I can't. I don't trust my voice at the moment. I can only imagine what could possibly be flying through her head right now. Pushing the memories aside proves more difficult than before, but I manage it somehow. Once that's done, my whole focus becomes taking deep breaths and holding onto her. I want to hide... but only take her with me.
    Her soft lips press against mine, but I can't respond right now.
    "I'm not going anywhere," she whispers, and I have to fight the tears away again.
     How does she know?! And what the hell has come over me?

     I kiss her lips once before wordlessly encouraging her to relax in my arms so that we can just go to sleep. She understands immediately, and I'm so glad.

    I wake up to an empty bed. I'm momentarily alarmed that Erin isn't here until I hear her downstairs, and I hear Adele.
    Adele?
    I rub my hand down my face and look at my alarm clock. It's a little past five in the afternoon.
    ?!?!?!
    I can't remember the last time I slept this much.
    It's pouring outside. I guess that's why I slept so easily since it wasn't real bright today. My head is killing me, so I get up to stumble into the bathroom in search of painkillers.

    "No, Daddy doesn't like olives," I hear Adele tell Erin as I make my way down the stairs.
    "Okay. How about we just go with pepperoni?" Erin asks her.

    "Okay. That'll work," Adele answers her while I lean against the opening to the kitchen. "Daddy!" Adele says happily after she turns to me. "We're ordering pizza!"
    "Good idea!" I say with a smile down to her. Then I look up at Erin, and she immediately blushes.
    "You were um...sleeping, so I thought... " she says then acts like she gives up trying to finish.
    "No, no! That's a really good idea. I kinda feel sorry for the delivery driver in this weather though," I say and wonder why she's still blushing. It's like she's afraid to look at me.
     Shouldn't it be me that's embarrassed? I think, wondering why she's blushing, and I realize I don't feel embarrassed at all. I feel relieved.
     Is it because I didn't put on a shirt? I think now with a wicked grin slowly spreading across my face. Her eyes cut over to me for a second as she tries to dial the number to order the pizza and screws up. She turns so that she can't see me and starts dialing the number again. If Adele weren't in here, I'd really take advantage of this situation. As it is, I decide for the less-obvious approach.
     I slowly and silently walk over to her and say quickly and quietly near her ear, "Need me to do it?"

       She nearly jumps out of her skin and promptly drops her phone on the floor.
     "Bryce! You scared the living daylights out of me!" she exclaims as I bend down to pick up the dropped phone. I can hear Adele giggling as she just stands there watching us. I'm itching to run my hand up her leg as I stand back up, but I manage to stifle that urge.
      "I think your phone is broken," I say and show her.
      "Aw, man! And I just got it," she complains as I lay the piece of junk on the counter and pull out my phone to order the pizza.

      "It must be these 'hard' tile floors," I say while it rings, and I work on not laughing, remembering Jesse yesterday. She lightly steps on my bare toe. "Ow!" I say and pull my feet out of the way as I lean against the counter.

    We're all happily sitting at the dining room table eating our pizza when the doorbell sounds. I tell Erin and Adele that I'll go see who it is, and I wonder who on earth would be crazy enough to go out in this weather.
    When I make my way to the front door, I see who it is through the glass in the door.
   "What do you want?" I ask the jackass in front of me with my arms folded.

Erin

    "I want to speak to Erin, please," I hear faintly coming from the direction of the front door, and panic fills me. I knew he'd show up again eventually, but I'd hoped they'd hold him at the station for longer. I guess Maggie couldn't convince Julian to press charges.
     I can feel Adele watching me, and I know my face must be extra pale right now.
     "Stay here, please," I ask of her and get up while I hear Bryce arguing with Sean.
    "Who is it?" she asks innocently but with a trace of worry in her voice. I don't know how to answer her. Then I hear her chair scoot back as she must be getting up.
     Damn you, Sean! And we were having the sweetest moment, I think as I briskly move down the hallway, Adele now hot on my heels.
      "No, I want you off my property," Bryce refuses his request once more.

      Sean ignores him, and his eyes cut over to me as he asks, "Erin, may I please just talk to you?"
      "I've said all I have to say a million times. Nothing's changed," I answer.
      A hurt anger fills his eyes as he now regards Adele. "So, your rebound guy has a brat."
     Adele gasps as anger fills me, but I'm immediately distracted by my anger when I see Bryce's fist connect with Sean's jaw. He doesn't wait for Sean to recover but keeps punching him, pure fury flowing out of him with every punch.

     It takes me a few seconds, but I realize if I don't do something, Bryce is going to kill him. I start yelling at him to stop, but he acts like he can't even hear me. I don't know what to do! The porch is too small to risk walking out on it and getting in the middle of that.
     Adele recovers from her shocked silence and starts yelling at Bryce as well. Sean is lying down in a bloodied puddle of water on the front porch, and I still see the rage in Bryce's face as he looks like he's debating killing my ex-fiance.
     "Bryce, don't. Step away," I say as calmly as I can manage. The calm words have reached him better than the yelling, I hope, because he stops and pants while he looks down at Sean. Sean coughs and sniffs in a disgusting manner as he tries to push himself up.
    "You don't know shit about my daughter, and my girlfriend wants nothing to do with you anymore!" Bryce growls down to him.
     He looks like he's about to say more, but I know a better way to get rid of Sean. "Bryce, let me talk to him alone for a minute," I request, and Bryce's head snaps up at me with a flabbergasted expression on his face.
    He walks silently past me with a scowl, but I can also see the hurt there. I'm going to have to fix that later. He closes the door and folds his arms, watching us from just on the other side of it. Adele leans back against the far wall, silently watching the three of us.

    "Alright, asshole. What do you want to say?" I snap.
    "I understand why you're angry, but do you have to be so hateful?" he asks, wiping his face.
    "You fucked my best friend. I think that gives me the liberty to be whatever I want," I snap, and he looks at me with an expression of shock. I didn't used to cuss like this.
     "Are you ever going to forgive me for that?" he asks pitifully. Those puppy dog eyes don't work like they used to. Instead, they just make me madder.
     "Maybe someday," I say with one hand on my hip. "But I'll never forget."
     "Give me another chance." He pauses for a second to take in a breath and say, "I'll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if that's what it takes."
     I let out an exasperated huff, putting my forehead in my hand. "No. Absolutely not. You can't have a relationship without trust, and I could never trust you again."
     I see his foot take the tiniest step towards me, and he says quietly so I'm the only one to hear it, "True that you can't have it without trust, but trust can be earned. And that's all I ask. After everything we've been through, don't I at least get a second chance?"
      The littlest bit of my heart cries for his pain, and it makes me mad. Still, I can't let him see this. I straighten my face up to look at him with no emotion. "I'm not interested. I like my new life here, and I'm in love with Bryce. I don't want anything to do with you anymore." I hate that I hate the wounded look I see on his face. He needs to be wounded. Maybe that way he can get closure and finally leave me alone. "How many times am I going to have to tell you this?"

     He takes in a deep, shuddering breath before he says, "I don't know. I just can't bear the thought of the rest of my life without you." After a short pause, he says, "How can you possibly say you're in love with him? You hardly know him!"
    "Because what I feel for him is stronger than what I ever felt for you." There, I think as I see my spoken dagger went deep. He takes a step back away from me, and I've never seen anyone look so crushed.
     He blinks more frequently and rasps out, "Okay. I see."
     "Goodbye, Sean," I say, verbally hitting the hilt of the imaginary dagger with my fist.
     He doesn't say anything, and I turn around to go back into the house. Bryce takes a step back to let me walk past him, and I head upstairs to his room. Adele follows me.

Bryce

    Sean and I lock eyes as I stand here with my arms folded behind my front door, and I glare through the glass at him. He's not finished. I can see that. There's the smallest bit of determination in his face as he stares back at me. He looks down, yes, but he's not out. He walks a few steps backwards down my sidewalk before turning and walking across the street to his rental car. Only when I see the car drive down the street to I don't care where do I finally relax.
    Erin, I think as I take my stairs two at a time.

    "Adele sweetheart, I'm fine," Erin tells her quietly, looking like she's only just barely keeping herself together.
    "Daddy's here," Adele says quietly as I walk in the room.
    Adele stands up as I take two steps to where Erin sits curled up into a ball on the floor. Without asking Erin a thing, I pick her up, surprising her. She doesn't fight me though. I walk us over and have a seat on the bed.

     She's shaking, and I hold her close and curl up as I have a good guess of how she's feeling right now.

35: Dirty Laundry

We're going back to just before the last chapter started. So, it's Sunday afternoon, and Bryce and Adele are going back to Pam's after having snow cones.

-------------------------------------------------------------

     Bryce and Adele walk in from their little trip to the park. They both look happy, and I'm glad.

    Pam is very easy to talk to, and I liked how she kept the topic of conversation off last night, even if I could tell she hoped I would bring it up.

     Bryce approaches me and says quietly, "I have to go to work."

    "Okay," I tell him. He stands there and fidgets anxiously like he wants to add more to what he said. I wonder what's up. "Do you want me to come with you?" I ask.

     "Yes," he breathes like a sigh of relief.

     I get it now. He'd told me, after all, that he didn't want me away from him until Sean left. This is a small thing I can do for him to make him feel better, and I have to admit I'm actually glad.

     "Of course then," I say and smile to reassure him.

    I get lost in thought while Bryce gets things settled like he wants them to be at the bar. It's not long and Jesse shows up. I'm glad, even if a little surprised, I'm almost comfortable around him now. He and Bryce really are best friends. I wish I had a friendship that strong.

    The two of them joke around for a while, and then Marie shows up. I wish I could tell her thank you for everything she did yesterday, but I just can't even talk about it right now. She asks me how I'm doing, and I want to die of embarrassment. She must see me as weak.

    Jesse and Bryce are laughing about something or other when Jesse goes to sit at a table all by himself.

     He's forcing Marie to pay attention to him and shooting her down every time she does. Oh, what a silly game!

     Bryce mumbles under his breath, "Idiot."

     "Hm?" I ask him.

     "Not you," he says quickly.

     I give him a small smile and say, "I guessed as much."

     "She's being nice... like I asked her to."

     "You did?"

     "And he's... hm." He stops for a second, smiles, and calls Marie over.

    Then he tells her to go home for the night. She actually looks relieved. Bryce watches Jesse for a minute, throws a rag on the bar, and stomps over to him.

     While he's talking to Jesse, I hear Jones snort quietly. Then he mumbles under his breath, "Fail."

     "What?" I ask him.

     His head pops over to me. "Yes?"

     "Did you just say something?"

    "Not that I'm aware of. Can I make you a drink, Erin?"

    Hm. "Um, sure," I answer, deciding to drop it. I tell him just to make me whatever.

    After he's made my drink, Jesse walks up and orders another beer.

     "I was starting to wonder," Jones comments. "But I thought for sure you'd ask Marie if you wanted a new one." His voice has a vicious edge to it that I doubt anyone can detect but me.

     "I didn't want to, but now I'm dying of thirst," Jesse answers.

     "Well, that's silly," I say while he gulps down his beer.

     He belches, wipes his mouth, and says, "There's a method to my madness." Then he winks at me conspiratorially and goes back to talk to Bryce some more.

    I turn back around in my stool to see Jones ever so slightly glaring at his back. The glare vanishes almost immediately when he sees I'm looking. Okay...

     I'm so tired when we finally make it back to Bryce's house that I can hardly keep my eyes open. I feel surprised to find Lynne waiting for us inside. She and Bryce talk about Adele for a minute while I contemplate the complexity of caring for an elementary-aged daughter while also frequently working late... nearly every night.

     "Oh," she says to me now. "I had a little friend of yours show up a few hours ago."

     My heart drops into my stomach as I immediately fear it's Sean.

     Then, as if on cue, Miley pops her head around the corner.

    "Miley!" I exclaim and reach for my feline friend. "Oh, Miley, I'm so sorry." I pick her up to her purring at me.

     "She must've smelled you over here and came looking. I don't suppose she's upset, worried is more what I'm sensing from her," Lynne tells me while I pet the cat. She turns to Bryce to say, "Adele adores her." Bryce has his hand over his eyes.

     "I had thought she went back to her family," Bryce states dryly.

     "I don't think she's had one for a while now," Lynne tells him.

     "How do you know?" I ask.

     Lynne's eyes appraise me for a moment before she says, "I just do." I get the feeling that's the only answer I'm going to get. Miley wiggles in my arms, and I put her down. Then, Lynne pulls something out of her purse on the sideboard before saying to me, "Here. Take this if you need to calm your nerves."

     Pam must've told her.

     "Maggie came by the spa today. Julian made her," Lynne offers in explanation, and I feel guilty for accusing Pam.

     "Okay," I say quietly before she hugs me. Then she turns to Bryce to hug him too while he thanks her. 

      Once she's left, Bryce turns to me to say, "Lynne can be... a little intense sometimes."

     I nod while Miley meows up to Bryce.

     "All right, you little spy, don't tear up my furniture," Bryce says to the cat, and I'm too tired to contemplate what he means.

      "Thank you for staying over here tonight," Bryce says to me as he pulls me into a tight embrace.
     "Well, no way am I staying at my house all by myself, and I have nowhere for Adele to sleep," I tell him while he runs his hand up and down my back.
      "You were thinking the same thing I was when Lynne said 'little friend,' weren't you?" he asks.
      "If you mean did I think she meant him, then yes," I answer him. "I know we haven't seen the last of him."
      He takes in a deep breath and says, "Good. Then I can kick his ass. I feel like I didn't get my chance."
      "Bryce..." I say in warning.
      "What?!" he quietly exclaims. I let out a wilting exhale and feel him smile as he places a light kiss on my shoulder. "The guy's a dick."
      I shake my head no and sigh before I say, "I just want him gone." In more ways than one.

     He looks a little worried as he asks, "You are going to stay here until he's gone, right?"
     I tuck a wayward strand of hair behind my ear while I nod yes. "I hate to intrude, but I want to."

     "I'm glad, but why do you think you're intruding? I want you here," he says and starts looking at me like that again. I feel so self-conscious under that stare, and I wonder if he even knows he does it.
       What does he mean? Stay forever? No, surely not. He just doesn't want Sean to get to me again, and I have to agree. But then why is he giving me that hard stare of his again? Is he staring at me like that on purpose as some way to get something across to me that he can't figure out how to say? No, surely if he had something to say, he'd say it... eventually. That's one of the many little things I love about him. 
     I look up at him with a small smile and say quietly, "Well then, here I stay." The look is still there. "I'm going to go take a shower before going to bed, okay?"
     He finally snaps out of it and says, "Yeah, sure. Okay. You know where it is." I turn to go, but he catches my face in his hands so he can lean forward and kiss me slow and sweet.
      I'm so tired! But I feel icky, and I don't want to feel icky in his bed.
      "I'll be waiting," he says with that roguish grin. I make my way upstairs while he makes his way to the kitchen... I guess to do a little laundry. Laundry at four in the morning. Huh. I silently giggle.
       As I turn the shower on, I think, What is it about the thought of him doing laundry at four in the morning that I think is sexy? I think I must be losing it from lack of sleep.
       The shower wakes me up. I guess my body thinks I'm skipping sleep all together.

     I come out of the shower in my underwear, and I see Bryce quickly put away a book. His eyes rake me from head to toe and back, and I brazenly climb on top of him. He doesn't act like he minds in the least.
      "So, what were you doing in the kitchen?" I ask while his hands travel up my thighs. "Looking at porn?" I wait to see what kind of reaction I'll get.
       He acts like it's all he can do to keep his laughter quiet so as not to wake Adele. I can't hide my smile. When he can finally speak, he says, "No, I'd never hide porn in the kitchen where Pamela could find it." His hands grasp my hips as he says, "Nothing as interesting as that. Just laundry." His hands squeeze me for a second before he says, "Besides, what the hell do I need that for when I have you?"
      "Likely story," I say, teasing, as I move my hips against him once. "You probably don't even know how to do laundry." I have no idea where all this is coming from.
     He reaches over to turn off the lamp to his right before he says, "You're right. You caught me. I was looking at porn."

      "You'd better be joking."

      "Maybe," he says. Then a silly grin crosses his face before he says, "It was dirty laundry."

      I roll my eyes and shake my head.

      "You started it," he reminds me, and I feel him harden underneath me.

     "Hm, yeah. I have no idea what made me think of that," I admit while biting my lip.

     He lets out a quiet groan while his hands start moving up and down my thighs again.

     "Maybe it was because you put a book away real quick when I walked in," I say.

     He takes a deep breath and says in an absentminded way, "It was that stupid cookbook again." He takes in another breath. "Erin..." he says and then doesn't finish his sentence.

     "What?" I ask, just barely feeling tired again.

     Suddenly, his eyes open wildly, and he flips us over so fast I only realize it happened after the fact.

     "You're not tired?" he asks me.

     "I don't have to be," I answer simply and start running my hands up and down his sides.

     He moans a little before his lips hungrily attack mine. However, just as soon as he starts, he stops.

     "No," he says unexpectedly.

     "Huh?" I question.

    He rolls off me and pulls me to him. I'm utterly confused. Since when does Bryce say no?

    "What is it?" I ask quietly.

    He doesn't answer. Instead, he says, "You're tired. You need to sleep."

    "We don't have to. I just thought... that..." I get quiet because I can't figure out how to say what I'm trying to say and not make it sound bad.

    "That that's all I want all the time?" he finishes for me, only incorrectly.

    "What?! No." I let out a huff. "Bryce, don't think that that's what I think," I say and ponder if that even made sense.

     "Go to sleep. I'm trying to prove something to myself," he says as he squeezes me a little.

     You don't have anything to prove. 

      "Well, now I can't sleep," I say in an upset tone.

      "I'll tell you a story," he offers sleepily.

      "I can think of a better way to make me tired..." I let my statement drag out.

      "Erin, please," he begs, shaking a little.

      What is his deal?! "All right. Fine," I snip. "Tell me a story then."

    "What should it be about?" he asks, sounding like he's done this a billion times, and my heart melts with the realization of how well-practiced he is at this. I can't stay miffed at him.

      I get an idea. "Tell me how you can take my bra off so fast." He laughs a little as I say, "I bet that's a good story."

      "Um, lots of practice," he answers cryptically.

      "Oh, that makes me feel real good," I say, sarcasm dripping off my tone. "You'd think I'd have more practice than you at it."

       He reaches over to turn off the other lamp and then pulls me close again. "Well, actually... that is a story I could tell... if you promise not to tell Jesse I told you."

     Of course, now I'm insanely curious and really wide awake. "Okay," I say, probably sounding a little too eager.

      He laughs again. "Um, well... okay so Jesse runs that store, you know?"

     "Yes." Get on with it!

     "Yeah, so it has mannequins."

     "Oh dear god," I say quickly, and he laughs some more.

     "Hey, no jumping to conclusions!" He swats my butt lightly. When I don't say anything, he keeps going, "Back to the story."

      "Okay."

      "Shh!" he says quickly. "Do you want to hear it or not?"

      I keep quiet.

       "Erin?" he asks like he thinks I'm asleep.

       "I'm being quiet."

      "Oh, okay." He takes a deep breath and continues, "Well, Jesse keeps ... mementos." To my quiet laugh he says, "He claims he doesn't mean to, that they just get left behind. Still, he has them. So, then one night, we get drunk."

      "I wondered if that would be part of it," I get in quick.

   "Mhm. Of course. All the best stories start that way. Now, hush." I giggle while he sighs exasperatedly. "Well, we'd been friends for about a year when we were at his place, and he had a broken mannequin he was working on fixing. He bet me he could remove a bra faster than I could. Of course, I had to prove him wrong."

     "Of course," I get in.

     "So, then he kept changing the rules because I kept winning."

     "You kept going after the first round."

     "Well yeah, I mean, we already had the setup and all. It eventually had to be one-handed from the front, and after a few more rounds, a stopwatch got involved."

      I groan. "Why is this so easy for me to believe?"

      "Why would I lie? You wanted the story."

      "So, from that one night and a stopwatch."

      "Um... kinda."

      "Kinda." I want him to clarify.

    He says as he yawns, "Yeah, every once in a while, he wants a rematch because I keep winning."

    I groan again and crash my forehead into his shoulder. "That poor mannequin." He gets quiet. I wonder if he's gone to sleep when I ask, "Bryce?"

     "Not always the mannequin," he admits, and my mouth drops. He quickly kisses my forehead in hopes to keep me from getting mad.

      "It had better damn well be the mannequin from here on out," I threaten.

      He shrugs. "Don't need to anymore. I have nothing to prove. Well, unless he gets the crazy idea he can be faster than me."

     "Oh, just stop right there," I say with a groan. He chuckles a little and kisses me while rolling me onto my back. As his hand starts up my back -- I'm assuming heading to my bra strap -- the alarm clock goes off.

      "Six a.m. already?" he groans. Then, he looks down apologetically at me as he says, "I have to get Adele ready for school."

      I take a deep breath, roll over and get under the covers before I say, "Mkay. You do that."

      He kisses my ear as he gets up out of the bed and asks, "You're not mad at me, are you?"

     I can't help but smile at the worry in his tone. It actually makes me feel a little better, so I say, "No, I've figured out already that you and Jesse are nuts."

     I hear him laugh a little as I drift off to sleep.

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Okay, so at the end of the last chapter, I promised more Sean drama. Well, the story took longer than I thought it would, but rest assured, Sean is lurking. Or... don't rest assured. Oh, you know what I mean!

34: Double Meaning

Marie

     I hear a familiar voice as I walk up the stairs next to the bathroom at work. Jesse is here.
     I walk up to the bar itself in a very nonchalant way, say hello to Jones, and sign in to work. Then I glance up and see Erin has come to be with Bryce. Good.

     "Man, it is 'hot' today, isn't it, Bryce?" Jesse asks to my boss.
     "It is 'hot,'" he agrees. "Think I should turn the fans 'up'?" he asks, and I wonder why they stressed certain words in the way they did. I have to agree it's hot, but that is to be expected. In fact, that's why I was sure to put on this crop top and short shorts. They said it would be over a hundred Fahrenheit, and I guess that's hot.
      "How are you?" I quietly ask Erin.
      "I'm okay," she answers just as quietly. I can tell she's nervous, so I don't pester her.
      Out of the corner of my eye, I see Jesse deliberately go and sit at a table, saying something about finding cooler temperatures away from the bar.
       Great, I think sarcastically. Now he's my customer.
        I grudgingly walk over to him while he watches my legs. He's being obvious. Fine. He wants to play? I'll play.

        "Can I get you anything, Captain Gillespie?" I say with a marvelously straight face.
        I see him come up with several, possibly very varied answers from his expression. The one he chooses, however, mildly disappoints me.
        "Nothing right now, thanks. Still working on this one," he looks up and grins as he says, "How about I let you know, Marie?"
       I shrug and say, "Suit yourself." He just had to say my name! I turn around and walk over to help Jones with whatever.
       Hours go by, and I serve various patrons. Occasionally so he can't claim I was ignoring him, I ask Jesse if he needs another beer. He always says no.
       "That beer is probably way too hot now. Let me get you a fresh one," I suggest.
       "There are hotter things, I'm sure. No reason I should give up on it just because it isn't perfect."
       Hm. "Well, let me know if you change your mind."
        "I will," he says and stares at the top of his bottle.
       The sun starts to set, and Bryce tells me to go ahead and go home. I'm surprised, but he assures me it's fine since we're not that busy. As I walk down the stairs, I momentarily wonder why Jesse didn't insist he walk me home. He merely sits at his table quietly like he's brooding about something. Well, if he wants to get a fresh beer now, then he has to get it himself. I've only asked him twenty times today.

        I get about halfway to my apartment before I turn around to glance behind me. As I do, I see that Jesse is standing near the railing and facing my direction. He quickly turns away to try to make it not look like he was watching me. I find myself smiling as I continue on my way.

Jesse

     "What are you doing?" Bryce growls next to me. "Do you want me to serve her up to you on a silver platter? I let her off early for your sake."
       I answer him in a way that he won't expect. "I'm glad you sent her home. I don't think I could've taken much more of that." I turn to look at him with a serious expression. "I'm leaving her alone... as much as I can." Though the sight of her in that outfit... ungh!
      "What?" he whips out of his mouth.
      "Yep. Bugging the hell out of her didn't work."
      "After two days. Since when do you give up after only two days?"
      "Who says I gave up?" I ask him with a ridiculous grin that I can't hold back.
      "Oh there you are! I wondered where the hell my friend went." He scratches his neck a little before he says, "So, I gave my waitress the rest of the night off for nothing is what you're saying."
      "No. I couldn't take much more of her prancing around in front of me in that getup." I suddenly remember the beer in my hand. "I need a cold one, this thing is flat as piss."

------

    The next day, I'm sitting at the counter at work trying to make sense of some irritating figures before the auditors pay me a visit when one of those sudden downpours hit. Five minutes ago, it was perfectly sunny, but now there's a huge storm raging.
      Well, that's going to drive the customers away, not that I had any anyway.

      All of a sudden, the door bursts open and in walks Marie of all people, drenched to the bone. Her wet clothes stick to her in all the right places, and I look my fill while she acts like she's getting water out of her ear. Then, I quickly plaster a smile on my face.
      "Marie!" I say like I'm still as happily surprised as I was a few seconds ago. "Hell of a weather change, huh?" I ask after she's whipped her head around in my direction. I'm... talking about the weather. I've been reduced to talking about the weather.
       "What are you doing here?" she asks.
       "I manage this place. What? You thought I didn't work?" Okay, this is better. Now I'm teasing.
       "I..." she stammers around, "didn't think about it actually." Ow.

     "Does it always do this? This all sunshine and then the rain comes without warning?" she asks, indicating the storm outside.
      "Sometimes. Especially if the day is really hot," I ever so slightly stress the 'h.' I love words like hot that have another meaning. "You're all wet." I say dryly. Another great word.
     "Yes, I'm soaked," she says in a mildly irritated fashion, and it's all I can do to keep from laughing.
     "Well, what are we going to do about it?" I can't resist saying as my imagination tortures me with different possibilities.
      I think she finally starts to catch on when her eyes narrow ever so slightly before she says, "I'll put up with it, I guess. Sometimes that's just what you have to do with annoying things."
      Arg. "Well, you don't have to. I sell a little bit of everything, and I can give you a discount. That's what I do for my friends, and we're friends, right?" I offer, not really wanting to have her change clothes, but I also can't help with the whole 'friends discount' thing. Hm. I don't sell underwear.

      "I suppose so," she says, and I'm momentarily confused as to whether or not she means we're friends or she'll buy clothes. I don't get a chance to make her clarify as she marches to the part of the store where we have a few things like touristy shirts and shorts. She quickly picks up the first shirt and pair of shorts she finds in her size. Then she looks at me in confusion like she doesn't know what to do now.
      I smile kindly and say, "Let me just have the tags. I'll ring 'em up and you can pay for them after you've changed. Let me get you a bag for your wet clothes." She hands me the tags, and I do as I said I would, wondering where her underwear will end up. Will she leave them on or take them off? If she leaves them on, then there's no point in putting on dry shorts.
       She doesn't take long to change, and when she comes out, her shorts are completely dry. She buys the clothes she has on while the rain continues. It only just now occurs to both of us that if she goes out in that again, she's wasted her time getting dry clothes. I stand here behind the counter and watch her to see what she'll do now.

        "How long does this usually last?" she asks.
        "It's rain," I say with a shrug. "It could be five minutes; it could keep raining into the night."
        A look of horror all of a sudden crosses her face. "No! I left my windows open at home!" She darts for the door.
         I quickly stuff away the irritating paperwork and say, "Hold up a sec! You're the only customer I've had all day, and this rain will keep them away anyway. I'll close up and drive you over there. You'll make it there faster, and you won't get soaked again." You can't argue with that. I stuff the register printout with the paperwork and walk around the counter with my keys in my hand.
       She lets out a little huff before she says, "Fine."

       We pull up in front of her place and she says, "Oh no!" She'd left her windows very open, and I haven't a doubt her apartment is getting rain all in it.
        "I hope you have a lot of towels," I say and race after her in the rain.
        She glances at me for a second like she's surprised I got out of the car, but then she focuses on unlocking her door. We both dash in, and she empties her linen closet while I go around and close all the windows.
        "Here," she says as she throws me a towel to start mopping up the water. I head to the one behind the couch and start trying to wipe up as much of the water as I can.
        "You need a dehumidifier," I say helpfully. "I think I have one somewhere."
        "What?" she asks like she can't hear me from where she is in the bedroom. I've done all I can do where I am, so I go and walk to her to say what I said again.

        However, once I'm in there I see that all she's doing is moving the water around. "No, not like that. You're not giving the rag a chance to soak up the water." I walk around her bed to kneel down next to her to show her what I mean. "Here. Like this." I watch as the towel sucks in the moisture.
        We're both crouched here on our knees, staring at the towel like it's the most fascinating thing on the planet for a minute or so when a loud crack rents the sky. A lightning bolt hits just outside the window on the lamppost on the opposite side of the street. We both make little scared noises and jump up to our feet.
       Our heads turn towards each other at about the same time, and when we realize how scared the other one was, we both start laughing. Then she looks down a little and realizes she'd grabbed fistfuls of my shirt in her fear. She, embarrassed, lets go and makes a small attempt to smooth out the wrinkles she made, not realizing how her hands press and rub my chest.
       I don't move a muscle, watching her eyes. I said I'd leave her alone... but she's so close! Once she's finished trying to fix my shirt, her eyes finally look up at mine and then widen as, I guess, she discovers how close we are. I want so bad to kiss her, but I wait and see what she'll do, wondering if she'll back away. She doesn't, so I move in a little more before pausing in a questioning way. I do this again, and she just stands her ground. I feel like it's been ages since the lightning strike across the street while I slowly cross this impossibly-huge distance to her mouth, pausing again very close to her.

       She still doesn't back away, so I close the tiny space left to her lips and finally press mine to hers while she stands there in silent shock. I don't know why she's shocked, but that's the emotion I get from her. Didn't I make this obvious? I think as I pull back a little and then kiss her again. This time she responds, and she shivers a little while I continue to coax more of a response out of her. Then she tilts her head some to the side and kisses me back. I find that during all this, my arms have wrapped around her, cradling her to me. Oh yes, Marie.

     I decide to take it a step further. They don't call it French kissing for nothing, right? Her hands lightly rest on my arms while I taste the inside of her mouth and caress her tongue with mine. She lets out a shaky exhale through her nose, and I can feel her shaking in my arms. I want to really go crazy and just kiss her until we're both gasping for air, but I don't because I can sense she really is scared. Why are you afraid of me? I think as I back off a little more, and she closes her mouth.
      She pulls away from me and says pleadingly, "Go. Just go. Please. Leave."
     What? "Why?" I ask quietly as I gently touch her lovely face. I'm not going anywhere without some kind of explanation.
       "Please. I can't. I just can't," she answers me by not answering me.

       "I have feelings for you, Marie, and I'm going to guess you feel the same about me. Why are you asking me to leave?" I say and ask, laying all my cards on the table, no more double meanings.
        "Jesse, you know why. I just can't."
       "All I'm asking is whatever you can give," I say, and I mean it, remembering my 'just hanging out' kind of date offer. I keep a light hold of her. I know she could break this hold if she really wanted to, but right now I doubt she will. This isn't the tough, black belt Marie I'm seeing. What I'm seeing is a very frightened almost-child.
      "I can give friendship. That is all."
       Bullshit, I think and debate kissing her again just to prove her wrong. Instead, I go out on a limb to ask what I'd thought earlier, "Why are you afraid of me?"
      "I'm not afraid of you!" she argues, and tough Marie is back in full force. She forces my arms off her and takes a step back.
      "Well, if you're not, then why are you asking me to leave?" I growl as I take a step forward.
      "Because this is my apartment!" She keeps backing up.
      "That's not a reason!" I keep moving forward.
      "Fine! Because you kissed me-"
      "You kissed me back."
      "- and this is getting out of hand."
      "Out of hand?" I ask. "How is this out of hand?"
      "I don't want this," she says and now stands in front of the entryway into her kitchen.
      "You could've fooled me," I say, and she gets quiet. We've both stopped in our tracks, staring at each other. I know I did not imagine her kissing me back, and I'm angry she won't own up to her feelings.
      "I need time," she finally says, and I know she's right.

       Damn it! "How much time are we talking here? Weeks? Months? Years? A decade? Give me some kind of timetable for you to need to dump all this shit you're carrying around with you. Or, how long are you planning on nursing your problems and giving them strength until that's all that you are?"
       "Get out," she says icily.
       "Fine," I snap and storm out of her house.

      When I get home, I look over to the passenger-side floorboard and see the bag that has Marie's wet clothes in it. She must've left it when she was more worried about dashing out of the car to get inside and mop up the water. I shrug and pick it up. I suppose I'll go ahead and wash the clothes before giving them back to her so they don't mildew... though why I want to do something as thoughtful as that for her beats me.
     As I pull the clothes out of the bag, I'm reminded of how they'd molded themselves around her, and the memory tortures me.
      She did take off her panties because here they are, I think and smile a goofy grin. And they're wet, I think now as I get a kick out of my double meaning.

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"But... what about what happens with the whole Bryce/Erin/Sean thing? Did they let Sean out? What did he do once they did if they did?" you ask? I'll get to that in the next chapter. I just wanted to put the Jesse/Marie bit all together. :)