Look After Me (33 page)

“Do you want to watch another movie?” I ask, wiping the sleep from my eyes.

“Sure.”

I inwardly make the attempt to move, but I don’t budge a muscle. Addison smiles when I stay in my comfortable position, physically unable to move. “Have you got some hidden powers I should know about? Because if not, you have to get up to change the movie.”

“No, I’m just too weak to get up.”

“Well, how about we see what’s on the television instead,” Addison suggests. I search the bed with my hands for the remote control, but when my hands come up empty handed, I begin to search for the remote control with my eyes when they suddenly come to a stop at the little black device at the end of the bed. I groan when I realize that in order to change the channel, I’ll have to move just to reach for the remote control.

“I don’t think we thought that one through,” I sigh with defeat.

“Well, it looks like we’re not watching television then because I can’t move either.”

I smile because even laughter seems to be too much effort. But it’s probably more of a grimace than a smile because I simply have no energy to lift my mouth up into a smile any further. We’re quiet as we sit engrossed with the credits scrolling along the television screen.

“What were you doing this time last year?” Addison asks.

I allow myself to think back to the day after Thanksgiving, trying to remember what my workday included. “Um . . . I think I was doing a patrol of the streets. It’s hard to remember what I did day by day because my schedule changed on a daily basis. One minute I could be maintaining equipment, the next I could be literally fighting for my life. It was the day before Thanksgiving that I witnessed a fellow soldier die in front of me.”

“Oh my God, what happened?”

“Honestly, it was so brutal, I wouldn’t want to subject you to the horrors of that day.”

Addison moves to her side. “I’m sorry you had to witness that. That must have been difficult.”

“It was. I was constantly on the go and pretty much fighting for my life daily, so I didn’t have time to dwell on it. Afghanistan is a different world to the one we’re in, and in that world, I was somehow able to block out my emotions. It was the only way I could focus and keep myself alive. I found strength in myself that I could never find in my personal life. Over there, in the middle of a war zone, I wasn’t Sebastian who wore his heart on his sleeve. I was Sebastian who turned off his emotions. I was a whole different person out there. He was strong, where I’m not. I’m far from it. The only weakness that I had—even though I never showed it—was that every time I was forced to watch a cold blooded murder, a tiny piece of me would die inside, especially if it were somebody I was close to or a guy who I was literally having a conversation with moments before. If it weren’t for my strong and levelheaded mind in Afghanistan, I’d probably be in the loony bin right about now.”

She shifts closer, encasing her hand within mine. I allow my gaze to follow our entwined fingers, amazed at how perfectly our fingers fit together.

“You’re the same person as the Sebastian who spent his career dedicating his life for this country. You’re strong, you’re heroic, you’re inspiring, and you’re selfless. Nothing has changed. You’re still the same Sebastian you’ve always been.”

“But if I’m all of those things, then why have I spent the past God knows how many months struggling with an addiction? That’s weak. That’s the weakest a person can ever be.”

“Because even soldiers have breaking points, Sebastian, but yours just happened to be out of the line of fire. A person can only cope with so much, and after everything you must have witnessed, I understand how being hurt by the one person you loved whole-heartedly could push you over the edge. It doesn’t mean you’re weak. It just means you’re human.”

I allow her words to sink in for a moment before smiling fondly. “You’ve said that on quite a few occasions now. Maybe I should start listening to you, huh?”

“That’s probably wise,” she says with a hint of humor in her voice.

I heavily sigh, looking up at the ceiling. “God, I’m so screwed up.”

“No, you’re just as screwed up as the rest of us.”

“Life shouldn’t be this hard.”

“I know.”

We both fall quiet, our attention turning back towards the television to the rolling credits that seem to be lasting a lifetime. Once the credits end and the disc jumps back to the start menu, I feel Addison’s eyes on me. “Tell me more about you as a soldier.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Everything.”

“Well, I could be here a while.” I chuckle. “I was with the Army for over a decade.”

“Well, lucky for us we’ve been hit with a case of food poisoning, so we’ve got all the time in the world.”

“Well,” I begin, shifting onto my side, “I was an infantry Staff Sergeant. I’ve been pretty much all around the world. Afghanistan, Germany, Pakistan, Hawaii, South Korea, but it’s the U.S. and Afghanistan where I’ve spent the longest time stationed. My last tour in Afghanistan was the shortest. They’ve usually been for a minimum of twelve months, but it was only for nine. In fact, it wasn’t quite nine months. During my deployment, I was granted two weeks leave when Lily was born, then I went back for another four months.”

“How many times have you been to Afghanistan?”

“Three times.”

“Wow, that’s impressive. And you came back from every combat tour intact?”

“Only just. I’ve had quite a few injuries that needed stitches throughout my career, but compared to some of the other soldiers, I got off lightly.”

I spend the next hour telling her about my time in the U.S. Army. Just talking about it, brings back memories,
good
memories, and I feel proud to have been a part of it.

We’re interrupted by the sound of knocking. Danya pops her head around the door. “Hey, how are you kids feeling now?”

“We’re over the worst but we’ve felt better,” Addison answers for the both of us. “Although, remind me to never eat a sandwich from a gas station again.”

“Well, I’m just checking if you both wanted anything before I head off to bed.” I look down at my watch, shocked to find it’s already twelve thirty in the morning. “Are you hungry? I could make you some dry toast—”

“No!” Addison shouts in alarm. “I don’t think I could stomach anything else. I’ve gone off food for life, but I’d love it if you would pass me the remote control. We’ve literally got no energy to even pick it up and we’ve been staring at the start menu of the movie for way too long.”

“Sure thing, honey.” Danya laughs softly as she walks inside, grabs the remote control from the foot of the bed and hands it to Addison. She gingerly presses the back of her hand against Addison’s forehead, checking her temperature. “Hmm . . . You don’t have a fever, so my guess is that you’ll both feel better in the morning. Just get some rest.”

“We will.”

“Night, guys.”

“Night,” we both say in unison, our lack of enthusiasm portraying exactly how we’re feeling. Once she’s out of the door, Addison begins to flick through the channels. She must flick through every station twice before settling on a home shopping channel. After watching an all-in-one steam mop infomercial for ten minutes, she finally speaks.

“You know what we should watch?
Friends.
It always cheers me up when I’m sick. ”

“God, I can’t remember the last time I watched
Friends.
”

“But there’s only one problem.”

“What’s that?”

“The box set is downstairs,” she groans. “And I still have absolutely no energy to think about getting up, let alone
actually
getting up.”

“Well, lucky for you, I really need to use the bathroom. So I’ll grab it.”

“Would you really?”

“It’s either that or pee in the bed, and I’ve already lost enough dignity today by hurling in front of you.”

When I stand, I find that I’m feeling tons better. My stomach is still a little queasy but other than that, I’m feeling okay. Once I’ve used the bathroom and grabbed the box set of
Friends,
along with two glasses of ice chips, I head back upstairs.

“Sorry that—”

I stop, noticing Addison is sound asleep. I place both glasses of ice chips down quietly on the bedside table and I put disc one of season one into the DVD player. I flick the light switch off, the only light in the room coming from the television, and settle back into bed. Not long after Rachel rushes into Central Perk with her wedding dress on, I begin to focus my attention on Addison. I brush the stray hair away from her face and the very touch has her shifting in her sleep towards me. Quietly moaning, she brings her head to my chest, snuggling up to me. I wrap my arm around her and she presses even further into me, her legs tangling with mine.

My eyes trace intently over her face, noticing how her eyes occasionally flicker through her sleep.

If only I could give this woman my all.

In another lifetime I probably could. In another lifetime, I’d have handed her my heart without a second thought.

I know what I’m beginning to feel for her is more than friends with benefits and that it’s edging towards something bigger, something unfathomable. But I need to protect myself. I need to look after me and closing myself off from love is the only way I can do that. Sex and friendship are all I can offer Addison, nothing more, nothing less. Although the heart I wear on my sleeve is currently taunting the hell out of me, telling me that this has heartache written all over it. That friends with benefits is doomed for disaster, and that it’s just a matter of time before one person hurts the other.

But ironically, it isn’t my heart that I’m worried about. I no longer have a heart to give, but Addison does. She has so much love to give that I’m worried I might taint it by unintentionally hurting her. And hurting her isn’t something I want to be responsible for. I care for her, I
love
her, but not in the way she deserves, and I need to take the high road before her heart turns to stone,
just like mine.
But somehow she’s become a permanent fixture in my life and I don’t know how to let go.

AS I’M TAKING THE pizza from out of the oven, the door buzzer rings. I place the pizza on the counter and head to the buzzer to let Addison up.

It’s our weekly appointment, but every week we spend approximately half an hour discussing things that need to be discussed, then we spend the rest of the night fooling around and having hot, incredible sex.

It really is the perfect therapy.

I buzz her up and open the door, waiting for her to step out of the elevator. It’s been two weeks since Thanksgiving, and ever since our trip I’ve felt really good about myself. It rejuvenated me, and I almost felt like a new person when I came home. In fact, I felt a little homesick when I left, which is a feeling I haven’t felt in a long time; not since I moved from my family home in Miami.

My feelings for Addison have simmered
somewhat
since we’ve returned. I don’t know if it was the closeness between us or the pressure from her family, but my feelings became heightened on that trip to the extent that I was confusing my attraction to her for love. It’s not to say my body no longer betrays me when I’m near her because it does. I know what I need to do but letting her go is something of an impossible task. She’s my friend. The only person who truly understands me.

I give her my usual gruff smile when she exits the elevator. She’s wrapped up in a coat, scarf, and gloves. All she is missing is the hat and she’d have the entire ensemble. I can’t blame her, we’re in the middle of a winter chill and it’s fricking freezing.

“Hey,” she says with a breathtaking smile as she walks inside, taking off her gloves.

“Hey, perfect timing, I just made pizza if you want some.”

“Pepperoni?”

“What else?”

“Then yes, I’m starving actually. I didn’t have time to grab a bite to eat.” She follows me into the kitchen as I go to work slicing the pizza up into manageable triangles. She takes off her coat and scarf and drapes it over one of the bar stools, and as I briefly look at her, the green-eyed monster attacks me from the inside out. She’s dressed in a black leather mini skirt, a band tee, a black and gold jacket and killer heels. She looks hot as hell but why is she so dressed up? Unless she has a date? At this thought, my breathing comes out in harsh breaths and it feels as if somebody is taking razor blades to my insides.

“Um, are you heading out or something?” I ask, running my eyes up the length of her, the pizza cutter held tightly within my hand.

“Actually yes.”

My heart plummets to my feet, and I’ve suddenly lost my appetite. “Oh.” I hate how obvious I’ve just made my disappointment sound. I turn my attention back to the pizza, trying to decipher the feelings flowing through my veins. My entire body becomes a blaze of fire when she closes the space, resting her hand on top of mine.

“Get dressed.”
Get dressed?

“Huh? I am dressed.”

She laughs before leaning even closer so that her face is inches away from mine. “Do you trust me?” The feel of her breath on my lips drives me insane, and I’m almost tempted to spin her round and fuck her against this countertop.