Forbidden (Addicted to You Book 2) (11 page)

“No! Yes! I mean yes I want you to,” I fumbled again. “Please don’t think that. I just— some women aren’t comfortable with —I mean — I should just shut up now.”

She nodded in agreement and began to pull the tank top she wore over her head. In that brief moment in time, she was comfortable. She was okay with who she was. She felt secure with me. And I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. I sat there on the bed and watched as she took off every piece of clothing she wore, and stood there before me.

“So,” she turned her head to the side a bit. “You going to join me, or just watch?” I heard her giggle and I rushed to remove my clothes, tossing them to the side.

“I — what do you— I mean we’ve never talked about —” I was still trying to say the right thing as I crawled into her bed with her, pulling the sheet up over us and snuggling up close. “Do you want — how do you— “

“Spencer!” she interrupted, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Shut up, kiss me and just let it happen. We will figure it out. I promise.”

For the first time she took charge and I just did what she asked. Leaning towards her, I whispered the words I’d been dying to say all day.

“I love you Avery Bradfield,” my lips met hers gently. “Please don’t ever leave me.”

Chapter 9

Turns out that you can’t just decide you want to go somewhere, walk into the airport, buy a ticket and leave. I should have known that. Hell, anyone should know that. I wasn’t a big traveler, but it would make sense. I probably did know that, but in my panic over Avery I’d let it slip my mind. So I’d rushed out and then arrived at the airport to realize that I wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

We ended up with a flight out of O’Hare three hours after we had hoped to be in the air. Which meant more quality time with Colby than I felt capable of handling. Our goal may have been the same, but that didn’t make us like each other any better. Only adding to the problem was the fact that we were taking our own frustrations out on each other. It was a hell of a lot easier to do that than admit our fear— our guilt. As evident by her comments.

“I can’t imagine what pushed Avery to not want to come home,” she said with a smirk. “She loves Chicago.”

“Sometimes people make rash decisions based on emotions Colby,” I offered, hoping she’d just shut up and do something else.

She was right. Avery adored Chicago. I knew this better than most as I’d spent a lot of time exploring it with her. It didn’t make any sense that she’d decided not to come back. But that wasn’t what Colby was saying. She was pointing out that I was the reason. I had pushed her away.

“Lord knows she had enough of them going on,” she continued. “Even before we left. She tried to get me to change the dates.”

“Maybe you should have listened to her?” I suggested.

I knew the conversation was only going to get uglier. Colby wanted a reaction. Two stressed people that blamed themselves and each other shouldn’t be in the same place for a long time. Especially when they already didn’t really care for the other. It was bound to lead to problems.

It wasn’t like baiting me for a reaction was difficult. Especially that day and under those circumstances. It just wasn’t a good idea. When I reacted it was generally bad for everyone involved. That would make Colby get angry and pout like she normally did. No matter what route I took this scenario was a lose-lose. Since I was stuck with her for God knew how long I would have to keep myself in check. If for no other reason than it would make the trip a little more tolerable. Since I had to spend it with the person I least wanted to be around.

“I thought some time away would help her see her mistakes,” she shot back. “Make her realize there was more to life.”

I’d touched a nerve. Colby was easy to read. Upset her and she’d react with venom. Just like she was in the airport lobby.

“Colby,” I turned towards her. “We are stuck together. We have no choice. Until we return to Chicago we are forced to be around each other. So could we stop the passive aggressive bullshit? Please? If you have something to say, say it. Let’s get it out and over with. But please stop hinting at what you want to say.”

“I don’t know what you mean?” she pretended to be innocently talking. “I was just making conversation.”

“You blame me for leaving her. You blame me when I stay with her because she spends time with me and not you. You blame me that she didn’t come home. You would blame me if she was at home and sulking over me. Hell, you would blame me if she was at home with me. You don’t like me. I get it. But can we be civil so that we can find Avery and make sure she is okay?”

She actually acted offended. The look on her face was the same I’d get if I’d slapped her. Women were like that. They didn’t mind veiled insults. They didn’t mind pretending that they were fine as they stabbed you in the gut with their comments. But if you tried even once to speak openly and honestly they would act as though you’d just said the worst thing possible about them. It wasn’t logical and didn’t make any sense to anyone but them.

“I don’t even know why you are here,” she snapped. “You left. You were the one that wanted it to be over.”

Why the hell couldn’t she just be quiet? Why did she have to keep this going? Was there a need to find the blame and the fault?

“You think I wanted this?” I found my own reaction in anger against my better judgment. “I never wanted any of this. I didn’t want her to go to South Carolina and disappear. I didn’t want her to be gone. Not really gone.”

“Right,” she argued. “You didn’t want her to be gone. You just wanted her to be sitting there, hopeless and waiting. You wanted to be gone when it felt good to be gone. But when Spencer was ready to come back by God Avery needed to be on bended knee begging him to stay.”

Her words were poison. Intended to strike at me with my own mistakes. Sinking deep underneath the surface and taking over what little remained intact. She succeeded.

“Not that it’s any of your business Colby,” I began, anger filling every fiber of my body. “And you will never believe what I say, but this is not what I want. Nothing you think of me is true. I never want her hurting. I never want to create anything in her life that isn’t happy. I shouldn’t have to explain myself to you. After all, who fucking left her alone when she needed you the most?”

“I suppose you destroy her so you can help her, right?” she replied, ignoring what I’d asked.

“You will never understand Colby. You’ve never had to understand. So why don’t you just worry about you and the things you’ve done and leave me to worry about my own shit?”

“I understand players very well,” she insulted. “Games. I know them.”

“Of course you do. You play them,” I spit out without thinking. “You are the God damned queen of games. Stop judging me and the decisions I make. Jesus Christ.”

“I’m not hurting someone over and over Spencer,” she replied, ignoring what I’d said. “You don’t even bother to see what you do to her.”

She managed to get to me. Her angry comments provoked anger. Not her intended goal. She wanted to hurt me. She needed to alleviate her own pain by inflicting mine. The problem was she couldn’t get through the walls I had up. They were there for a reason. To avoid the shit that someone like her could do. Judgment and anger was wasted on me.

Those words, however, they penetrated the walls and sank deep. Avery suffering. It was a thought I didn’t need. She didn’t deserve that. Not from Colby. Not from me. Her stupid little friend was right. I’d hurt her. I’d let her down. I’d bailed on her. Then I’d left her there to cope without even making sure that she was okay.

“You’re right,” I managed the words past the lump in my throat.

“Oh my God!” she laughed, a fake and annoying laugh that I could barely tolerate. “Can you let me record that?”

“So you were right,” I admitted again. “For once. Big deal.”

“So you admit that you hurt her?”

“I’ve never denied that I hurt her Colby. I have never said that I was right. What I don’t admit is that I played games with her. That I set out to destroy her. That I wanted her to be in pain. That is not true. I didn’t do anything with the intention of this being the outcome.”

“So you say,” she turned her head again. “You want to make sure she’s okay, to keep from ruining her life, so you turn her into a goddamned alcoholic?”

“What did you say?” Her words caught my attention. Avery wasn’t an alcoholic. She hadn’t been much of a drinker at all. Why would Colby say that?

“That’s all she does anymore Spencer,” Colby faced me again, blue eyes filled with rage and contempt. “She cries and she drinks.”

No. She was wrong. She was just trying to get to me. Somehow she knew what to say to hurt me. Truly hurt me. She wanted to win the argument. She wanted to make herself feel better. It wasn’t true. It was just Colby’s vindictive personality. Wasn’t it?

Avery was stronger than that. She’d never been a big drinker to begin with. Sure she’d have beer with me during dinner and movies. Occasionally she’d have something stronger. But she didn’t like feeling out of control. It was rare that she would allow herself to get anywhere past slightly buzzed. She wasn’t an alcoholic.

Was she?

Had I damaged her that badly? I couldn’t stand the thought. If I’d ever believed that me leaving would crush her so deeply that she’d hide herself in a bottle I’d have stayed. No matter what eventually happened, I’d have stayed and made sure that she knew all the way to the end that I loved her. Regardless of how little she loved me by that point.

If she was that far gone, was I making a mistake going to find her? Panic set in as I wondered if maybe she’d be better off if I just left her alone. Perhaps seeing me would only make her situation worse. She might go further off the edge that Colby swore she was standing on. I didn’t want to be the reason that Avery lost herself. I didn’t want to be what clouded her world.

“I didn’t….” I couldn’t find the words. I couldn’t get them to come out. A lump had formed in my throat, making me strain to breathe and unable to talk. Tears were forming in my eyes and I’d be damned if Colby would see me cry. She didn’t need any more ammunition against me. “I’m going to nap while I can.” I managed to get the words out and closed my eyes.

I was lying. I knew that. I was pretty sure that Colby knew that. It was a lie to avoid the situation. I needed to not hear any more of what she had to say. I needed to hide and avoid reality, even if it was just for a moment.

I needed to think. My fear was taking over. I wanted to leave. To run home. I wanted to avoid making the situation any worse. I was doing nothing but hurting her and I didn’t want to do it anymore. But I knew I needed her in my life. And that was what kept me there in that airport as her best friend told me of the damage I’d done in her life.

The irony was that I was turning her into everything I hated. I was making her become the person I despised the most. My mother.

That woman was the reason I was as fucked up as I was. She was the reason I couldn’t love the way I should be able to. It wasn’t that I didn’t feel it. It was that I didn’t understand it. I fucked it up. Because of her.

How does a man learn how to love and appreciate a woman when his own mother can’t stand him? No one understood what it was like to live with her constantly telling me how horrible I was. I didn’t give a fuck that she had a problem. I didn’t care that she wasn’t in control.

She’d spent what little time she’d chosen to be in my life telling me what a worthless and horrible person I was. She had meant it. She had believed it. How does a person get past that? Sure, I could tell myself not to let it get into my head. That she was wrong. That she was only trying to hurt me. Then someone else would do the same. Leave. Not like something about me and go. Most repeated words I’d heard since I was a child. It must be true, right?

She didn’t even regret it. She didn’t think she did anything wrong. She thought she was in the right.

She was a mother for God’s sake. She should have loved me regardless. Her love for me should have come above her own selfish desires. I shouldn’t have had to worry about whether or not I was good enough for the person that was supposed to love me unconditionally.

I shouldn’t have to hear the person that was supposed to be my shelter from the storm call me names and tell me she hated me. I shouldn’t have had to grow up believing that the words she spat at me in one of her rages were real. That I was who she said I was.

And I was the lucky one. I never felt it. The physical pain. Almost. But not quite. Kevin was the bearer of that burden. The hard part was deciding which of us took the worst part. Him, with the scars on his body; or me, with the rips in my soul.