Kissing Fire (21 page)

Now what? My job didn't exist any
more. I had wanted to prove something to myself and my family.
Namely, that I could make it on my own. Nix that idea, thank you
Preston. Besides all that, how the hell was I gonna get out of
here? And where would I go? The sumo wrestler thing was beginning
to look good again. Maybe I should give Melissa a call.

I heard a tap at my door and then, “Avery, may I
come in?”

“Why? So you can tell me some more tall tales?”

The door inched open and there he
stood, in all of his fucking gorgeous glory. Why did he have to
look so damn good? Why couldn’t he be ugly and bald? Or at least
fat with acne and giant nose warts or something? But no, he was
perfect Preston with sculpted abs, which of course were shown off
to perfection by that damn tight black shirt he was
wearing.

“I’m not going to tell you any more lies Avery. That
was the only one I’ve ever told you. I swear.”

“Oh, that tiny little lie. The only one.”

“I didn’t say it was tiny. It was huge. I can only
say I’m sorry so many times. But I am and I will always be. I never
intended to carry it this far.” He shook his gorgeous head and
rubbed his beautiful face. “I...well, there is no excuse.”

“You’re absolutely right on that one. So, I need to
leave. But you see, I have a small problem. I’m at your fucking
mercy Preston.” My snarky side had emerged in full force, but I
didn’t give a damn. He deserved every bit of it and then some.

He winced a few times when I spoke, but I was beyond
caring anymore. I wanted to get out of here. Everywhere I looked
evoked such strong memories of us doing such intimate and erotic
things, I could barely breathe. I knew I was hurting him, but I was
so egocentric now, I couldn’t have cared less.

“Where do you want to go?”

“The airport.”

“But you don’t even have a flight booked.”

“I’ll book one when I get there.”

“Avery, don’t be crazy. You can book one here and
stay until it leaves.”

“No!” I didn’t give him the opportunity to say
anything further for I was out the door and running down the steps.
I swiped the back of my hand across my face, clearing the moisture
from my vision. Flinging the massive front door open, I charged
straight outside and threw my stuff into the back of the car,
taking a seat back there as well. There was not a chance in hell I
was going to sit in the front seat with him now. I’d sit out there
all night if I had to, waiting on him.

I didn’t have to after all. He showed up a few
minutes later. When he took a seat behind the wheel, he turned and
raised a brow at me. I gave no response.

“Avery, please.” His voice was tortured and his
expression pained. I couldn’t give in. I wanted to, believe me. I
wanted to throw myself at him and drag my hands through his hair,
lingering at those waves along his nape. I wanted to rest my palms
against his heart and feel it beating against my hand. I wanted to
taste his skin on my tongue, feel his breath against my lips, but I
did none of that. And it nearly killed me. My heart and soul were
dying a slow and painful death. But I had to let him go. He had
destroyed my trust in him...had obliterated it so completely by
living that stupid lie. How could I possibly trust my heart with
someone who could live a lie so easily as he had?

He turned back around and started the car. As he did
so, the wrenching sobs filled my body. I lay my head down on the
backpack and cried the whole way to the airport. When we finally
got close, I knew I had to have a plan. He’d come inside and try to
persuade me one way or another and I couldn’t let that happen. The
airport was just ahead so I made my escape plans. I decided that I
needed to get away from him because if I didn’t, I was afraid I’d
turn into Jell-O and melt right on the man.

He exited the interstate and followed the signs so I
knew we were getting close. If we stopped at a light, I would bail.
That way, he wouldn’t have time to park and follow me. For once,
luck was on my side and the light turned red right as we approached
it. My hand grabbed the handle and damned if it wasn’t locked. I
hurried and pulled up the lock manually and tore out of the car as
fast as I could. I heard him calling my name, but nothing could get
me to stop at this point. Picking up as much speed as my big fat
bottom could muster, I huffed and puffed my way to the terminal.
United was the first counter I saw so I headed there and asked when
and where the next flight was. The agent told me it was headed to
Denver and leaving in forty five minutes. Perfect.

“Do you have any seats left?”

“Yes. Are you traveling alone?”

“Yes.” I handed her my ID and credit card. It didn’t
take but a few minutes and I was on my way through security. My
mind kept seeing images of the last time I flew with Preston, but I
forced them back down. This wasn’t the time. If I thought too much
about that, I would have a mental breakdown and I couldn’t afford
that right now.

Once I cleared security, I exhaled. I must’ve been
holding my breath because I literally felt lightheaded. My plane
was already boarding so I headed straight to the gate and walked
right on the plane. The flight was relatively empty, so I headed to
the back of the plane. I wanted to be alone and hopefully I
wouldn’t be disturbed back there.

Now that I was away from Preston, I started to
process everything that had happened. Had I overreacted? Did I do
the wrong thing by leaving? My heart was hurting so badly and I was
so angry at what he had done. How could he have made me think our
lives were in danger for all that time just to satisfy his own
wants? The whole idea of it all sickened me. So there was my
answer. I hadn’t overreacted. I buried my head in my hands and
cried. It was a good thing the plane was loud so no one could hear
my wretched sobs.

Right now, all I wanted to do was to climb in my bed
and stay there for a week. But I didn’t even have a stupid bed of
my own to climb into. I could hear my mother now. “I told you Avery
you shouldn’t have left home. You should’ve listened to me.”

I didn’t dare show my humiliated face in Charleston
either. That was the last thing I’d ever do. I’d die first before
I’d admit defeat. No way would I go home with my tail between my
legs.

The flight attendant popped by to see if I wanted
something to drink. I asked for a vodka, but she said since the
flight was so short, they would only be serving non-alcoholic
beverages. What a pity. We landed shortly after that and I went to
the information desk to inquire about a hotel in downtown Denver. I
ended up booking a room at boutique hotel and then rented a car. By
the time I checked into my hotel, I was a wreck.

When I unpacked my meager
belongings, my battered world crashed once again. As I had
haphazardly stuffed everything into that little backpack, I had
accidentally packed one of Preston’s shirts. At first I simply
stared at it, like it was an alien creature, getting ready eat me
alive. Then, I dissolved into a puddle of tears, and hugged it to
my chest. I could smell his intoxicating scent as I wrapped it
around me and it made me weep even more. Crawling to the bed, I
curled around it and stayed like that for I don’t know how
long.

Sometime late the next morning I woke up, still
hugging his shirt. Forcing myself to shower, I then ordered some
room service and made a list of things I needed. First off, I’d
need a cell phone. The one I had was at Justin’s and while I was at
Preston’s I found no need for one. I was also under the impression
that I could be tracked if I used one and it would put me in
danger. Anger spread throughout my body as I punched my pillow,
thinking of how he had told me another lie. I wonder how many he
had concocted to make his story believable. What kind of people did
that? Lived on lie after lie and then not be bothered by it? I
wouldn’t have been able to sleep at night had I done the same thing
to him.

I’d always wondered how people could say one could
die of a broken heart. I used to think that was such a silly thing.
I mean, really. I learned then that it was true and I had no doubt
that there were people who surely must have died of that. Because
somehow, I knew I was dying a little bit at a time, slowly,
painfully of not a broken heart but of a crushed one. The only
thing missing was the blood.

********

The maid would dutifully knock on my door every day,
but I would send her away after accepting a few bottles of shampoo
and conditioner and a new bar of soap from her. On the fifth day,
the management came by and asked me if I was okay. I assured them I
was, physically anyway. Emotionally, I would never be okay. Well, I
knew I would be, but I would never be the old Avery again. She was
long gone and in her place was someone I wasn’t quite sure I liked
very much...someone that was untrusting, suspicious, and broken.
I’d look at myself in the mirror and what I saw saddened me. My
face was swollen from crying and my eyes looked bruised from my
many sleepless nights. Thank God my mother couldn’t see me now.

Two weeks later, I checked out of the hotel and
headed to the upcountry of Colorado. I had fallen in love with Vail
as a child and maybe I could do so again as a crushed grown up.
While I had lain in bed, I had gone through all my options of what
I would do. I decided that I didn’t want to go back to work in any
type of formal career. So, as I headed up the mountains to either
Breckenridge, Vail or Aspen, I’d decided I would tend bar. The ski
season was right around the corner and what better way to recover
than to spend a winter on the slopes?

Breckenridge was the first town
along the way, but I decided to forego it and head straight to
Vail. I’d always loved the alpine village and what the mountain had
to offer as far as skiing went. Once again, I checked into a hotel.
This time it was the Grand Ski Lodge. Then I went to work job and
apartment hunting. I was lucky because the local bars and
restaurants were hiring for the winter season, so landing a job was
relatively easy. I was honest about not having tended bar before,
but they told me they’d give me a two week trial period and if I
passed, I was good to go. My first day at Tres Chicas, which was a
bar and restaurant right at the base of the main gondola in Vail
Village, went really well. We weren’t very busy yet, since the
season hadn’t officially started. The bartender training me was
named Derrick and luckily he was very patient.

“Most of your apres ski drinkers will want ice cold
beer. And of course since margaritas are our specialty, that will
be a huge pick here too.”

Derrick taught me all the tricks and I picked it up
quite easily. He even told me about a couple of vacant apartments
for rent in town. One was literally right around the corner. It was
a seasonal rental, which was perfect for me, and a studio which,
again, was ideal. The rent was pricey, but I didn’t give a damn at
this point. I had the money in savings so I decided to go for it.
Being miserable and dying of a crushed heart allowed me to be a bit
extravagant in this regard.

Stupidity wasn’t one of my strongest suits so I knew
it wouldn’t be long before someone would show up in Vail hunting me
down. I hadn’t called anyone, even Justin. The whole fucking
experience was simply too painful for me to even think about, much
less speak of. So late one afternoon, a week after the season
opened, I was working and turned around to see Justin sitting at
the bar with a half grin on his face.

“How about a cold one for your thirsty brother,
Ava?”

Chapter 20

Preston

She was fast, I’ll give her that. I didn’t expect
her to leap out of the car. She was also smart because she knew
damn good and well I wouldn’t be able to chase her that way. Well,
she’d done it...made her get away from me. And it was fucking
killing me. I deserved every single kick in the ass I got, but they
all still felt lethal to me. And it wasn’t just my ass that was
feeling it. Seriously, I wished she’d shot me with that damn gun
I’d given her. It would’ve been a hell of a lot faster than this
fucking torture I was living through.

The cabin was the only place I had to go, but it was
like a living hell for me. Once I got back there, I threw my stuff
in a couple of duffle bags and hit the road. I made sure the place
was cleaned up and locked down for the winter, because there was no
way I would be back there any time soon. Too many memories, and
that’s the truth. What the fuck had I been thinking? That she’d
roll over and say, “Oh Preston, I just love you so much, it doesn’t
matter that you conjured up the biggest fucking lie I’ve ever
heard.”

Christ. I threw away the greatest, most beautiful
thing that had ever happened to me. And why? Because I’m a fucking
manipulating pussy. That’s why. I couldn’t wait and let things play
out on their own, the way they’re supposed to. I had to go and take
advantage of things, turn them into something they weren’t. And God
how I had hurt her...so damn deeply. My arm flew out before I even
knew what I was doing and I punched the dashboard of my car.
Hearing the bones crunch and then feeling the pain searing through
my hand, I was quite sure I had just broken it. At least it was
diverting the torment I was experiencing in the rest of my
body.

I decided it was a good thing Justin was an
orthopedist, because by the time I got to Seattle, I was positive
my hand would closely resemble a balloon. I drove the ten and a
half hours straight, only stopping to get gas and use the restroom.
Sixteen hundred milligrams of ibuprofen held me until I could see a
doctor. My hand was already purple and I couldn’t bend any of my
fingers. Not good news on the hand front. Served me right
though.