Give Me Yesterday (22 page)

Meeting Tori and falling for her wasn’t something I expected to happen. My life has been one unsuccessful relationship after another—always missing an important deep element. With her, she’s the whole damn ocean. Her depths are still unchartered and I crave to explore every deep, dark corner of her. I could spend my life with a woman like her. The thought of giving her more children—children she deserves more than anything on this earth—threatens to make my heart combust.

I want to give it all to her one day.

Children.

Marital bliss.

A happily ever after.

And nobody will take that away from her. I’ll protect her future with my life and make deals with the devil if that is what it takes. Tori deserves the best and I want to be the man to give it to her.

Her warm palm squeezes my thigh through my jeans and she gives me a pensive look. She’s pulled off her blazer and the cream, flowy tank underneath it gives her outfit a more casual flair—perfect for going to dinner on the river.

“Penny for your thoughts? You’re not normally so serious,” she says softly.

I reach down and squeeze her hand over my leg. “Just imagining where this relationship will take us.”

Her lips form a tiny “
O
” and she jerks her head to stare out the window. I’m sure the very idea of thinking about a future is daunting. Even though we’ve slept together multiple times now, I don’t miss the guilt behind her smile. The sadness that dances behind her eyes.

“Where are we going?” she asks finally, changing the subject from our relationship status.

I flash her a grin. “I’m taking you on a romantic date at Navy Pier. There’s an Italian restaurant that our Dean always raves about. Since it’s so early, we’ll probably get right in.”

Twenty minutes later, we’ve parked and are walking hand in hand into the restaurant. Upon my request, the server guides us to one of the tables next to one of the giant open windows which overlooks the sparkling Chicago River. The sun is beginning to set and I couldn’t have chosen a better place to dine with the most beautiful girl in town this evening.

“Bring us a bottle of your house chardonnay,” I tell the server as we open our menus.

The man nods and scurries off, leaving me with the most stunning vision. Her eyes are downcast as she reviews the menu. Tiny tendrils of blonde have escaped her hair prison and they frame her soft features. Pouty lips purse together as she decides what she’ll have for dinner. Her long, dark lashes hide the bluest of eyes that I know for a fact outshine the picturesque river beside us.

I could spend hours admiring her beauty.

Her innocence that she cloaks with venom to most people aside from me.

The sadness and despair that she fights desperately each day to stick Band-Aids on.

“There you go again. The thoughtful Dr. Monroe,” she murmurs, drawing my attention to her pretty lips.

I raise my eyes to hers and I’m satisfied to see that they are indeed more beautiful than the river, just like I knew they would be.

Reaching across the table, I take one of her soft, manicured hands in mine. “Baby, I was just thinking about how perfect you are and how clearly lucky I am to have you.”

Her eyes widen and her mouth parts open at my words. “Oh, I, uh…” she trails off.

“Sorry,” I sigh and flick my gaze over at a bird that squawks from one end of the pier. “I’ve had a weird day. Last day of the semester and all. I tend to feel nostalgic and introspective. Although, that didn’t help me at all with my speech preparation.”

When I glance back at her, she scrunches her nose at me. “What speech?”

I smile. “I’ve been asked to speak at the graduation ceremony next Thursday night. I would love if you’d attend with me. Afterward, there’ll be a gathering at my buddy Cort’s house. His girlfriend Blair, his mother, my family—they’ll all be there. They’d all love to meet my girlfriend.”

She swallows and tears her gaze from mine to inspect the menu some more. “Um, I’ll check my schedule.”

Her words sting and I find myself tugging my hand from hers. Obviously, I’m fucking weirding her out with my bizarre mood today. I clench my eyes closed and attempt to pull myself out of my funk.

We’re saved from the awkward moment when the waiter brings us the wine and takes our order. Once he’s gone, I pick up my glass and chug it down. I can feel her eyes on me but I don’t meet them.

“Chase, I wasn’t saying no. I just…”

I cut her off and drag my eyes to hers. “I know, Tori. I’m sorry but I’m just in a weird fucking mood today, okay? I’m not trying to make you feel uncomfortable or push you into taking our relationship to the next level or anything. Truth is,” I sigh, but prepare myself to admit what I’m thinking about. “I’m being weird because I feel the need to paint the wall again.”

Her eyes go from sliding protective bricks around her to blazing with worry. “What?”

With a frustrated growl, I run a hand through my hair and meet her gaze. “I was staring at the goddamned wall again today and realized it’s wrong.”

“I see.”

I huff. “I probably sound like a fucking lunatic.”

Bitterness creeps its way into me and I pour more wine into my glass.

“No, Chase. Look at me.”

I bring the full glass to my lips and lock my eyes with hers.

“Maybe I can help you. Do you have any pictures of this color you’re trying to match?” she questions.

Closing my eyes, I remember her dress that fateful day. I also remember Ashley’s horrified eyes later blazing with accusation at what I’d done. The memory sickens me and the color slips through the cracks of my mind and I snap my eyes back open.

“Nope.”

Tori frowns and flickers her gaze over to the river. “Did you find one in your booklet?”

I nod and sip my wine. “Number eighteen.”

Her brows furrow and she lets out a ragged breath. “Do you ever think that maybe this color will never be achieved no matter how many times you paint the wall? No matter how many shades you try? Chase, do you ever wonder if this is your way of fixing something that can’t be fixed? She’s gone and no matter how many times you paint the wall, it will never match the vibrancy that was her.”

My eyes sting with angry tears and I blink them away. “Since when did you become the doctor, Ms. Larkin?”

She sips her wine and straightens her back. Gone is the woman I’ve had the privilege of uncovering the last two weeks. Now, here sits the viper, Victoria.

“Remember all that talk about carrying the other through rough times?” she says with a sure voice.

I raise a brow at her as she continues.

“This is me carrying you. And I’m saying snap the fuck out of it. You’re unraveling a bit there, Chase. This is the only way I know how to ‘carry you’ and I call it tough love. Get your head out of the dark place you’re in and focus on the now. I’ll help you paint the damn wall because I care for you, and quite frankly, I love the look in your eyes when I wear your clothes. Together we’ll paint that wall Number Eighteen. But honey,” she sighs and reaches for my hand, “The next day, when you wake up? The wall will still be the wrong color. No matter how many times you paint it, it can never compare to that of our memories.”

I swallow and rub my thumb over the back of her hand. “I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head at me. “Don't apologize. It isn’t like I haven’t had you wading through the bullshit emotional baggage that continuously surrounds me. We’ll figure it out together. And to answer your earlier question, I’ll have dinner with you and your friends and family after graduation. You’re very important to me, and schedules, work, whatever—it can all be pushed aside if that makes you happy.
You
make me happy, Chase. After a decade of heartache and suffering, I’m beginning to feel alive and it’s all because of you. It’s my turn to make you just as happy. Now, cheer up, wine and dine me, and then take me back to your place so we can make love all night. Together we’ll figure this out.”

I stand abruptly and lean over the table. Clutching her cheeks on either side, I close in on her and kiss her sweet lips. Her strength fills me and the bleeding hole that hemorrhages in my heart slows to a stop. My mind that reels continuously with what-ifs and wrong shades of paint silences, filling instead with thoughts of Tori.

When I finally break from her and sit back down, her swollen lips draw up into a proud smile. The Tori that she’s worked so hard to become prevails and she takes pride in being able to help me for once.

“Thank you, beautiful,” I tell her honestly. “When you get all fierce and firm, it turns me on.”

She bursts into laughter and shakes her head at me. “There he is, the sexy Dr. Monroe we all know and love.”

My heart clenches at her casual mention of love. I’ve already scared her enough for the night. So, I bite my tongue in professing more heartfelt shit that might have her diving off the pier and swimming away from me and my diarrhea of the mouth.

The waiter brings us Italian heaven that wafts with the aroma of garlic and cheese. Soon we’re lost in the comfortableness that is us, laughing and teasing. And of course eating.

“I think since I’m helping you paint,
again
, that I get a free pass from group tomorrow,” she says as she brushes the thick paint along the taped off edge of the ceiling.

I chuckle and cast a glance her way. Now comfortable in our relationship, she only wears a white T-shirt of mine, sans bra and no pants. Each time she reaches with the paint brush, the shirt rises over her sweet little ass and gives me a delectable view of her black panties that barely cover her cheeks. She’s fucking distracting as hell.

“Nice try, Tori. You’re going to group. We both need it. You know that.”

She pouts and climbs off the chair, dropping her brush onto the tray. “I hate it. I’d much rather spend all day with you. You’re all the therapy I need,” she purrs and wraps her arms around me.

I inhale the sweet scent of her that somehow makes its way through the strong odor of the paint.

“You vixen,” I say and grab her ass with my free hand. “You’re attempt to distract me is working but I’m not giving in. We’re going. Besides, the gang will miss us.”

She sighs. “They’ll miss
you
. Nobody likes me there. I made a fool out of myself and now they all hate me.”

I chuckle. “First of all, nobody could ever hate you. Hating angels is a sin.”

She lifts her chin and accepts a kiss from me.

“Second of all, the only way to build relationships with those people is to open yourself up to them. They’re all in the same boat we are, dealing with the crippling loss of loved ones. If you give them a chance, they can help mend your heart with their own stories and experiences. And, Tori, you can help them too. Like you help me.”

Her smile is beautiful as she considers my words. “Okay, fine. You present a good case, Dr. Monroe. Tomorrow, I’ll go work my magic on the people.”

Laughing, I toss my brush into the pan on the floor. “Come on,
Samantha,
you can practice your
Bewitching
on me in the shower.”

She giggles and wriggles her nose to mimic the gal on the old television show.

I slap her cute ass and then haul her over my shoulder, bellowing at the way she squeals at me to put her down.

There’s no doubt in my mind Tori will bewitch them all in the end. She’s certainly performed her magic on me because I’m fucking spellbound when it comes to her.

And I’m not complaining one bit.