New Life (16 page)

“Fine. Just, you know, cleaning.” His gaze
slid away from mine like butter on a hot griddle.

“Where’ve you been all weekend?” Epic fail at
sounding nonchalant.

“I couldn’t make dinner because I had to fill
in for someone at work.” I could tell it was a lie by the way he
refused to meet my eyes.

“And after that? You didn’t answer any of my
texts. Did you lose your phone?”

He paused, and I mentally begged him to agree
and reassure me.
Yeah. I lost my phone. That’s what
happened.

“No. I turned it off,” he admitted.

“Why?”

“I figured you should spend the weekend with
your parents and not have to worry about me. It was way too soon to
introduce me to them. It was awkward and weird for them and for
you.”

“I would have appreciated if you’d called to
tell me that.” I channeled my mother. That polite yet
guilt-inducing tone was all hers.

“Sorry,” he said.

Silence fell between us. It was so quiet I
could faintly hear the music still playing through Jason’s
earphones; then we both spoke at the same time.

“I think we should—”

“This isn’t going to—”

Jason’s ghost of a smile had never looked
sexier to me. I’d never wanted to kiss him more than I did right at
that moment. “Go ahead,” he said.

Suddenly I couldn’t bear to use that horrible
cliché:
This isn’t going to work
. “This isn’t going to be a
pattern, is it? I can’t have you disappearing on me for days at a
time whenever you feel threatened.”

“That’s not what happened.”

“Sort of seemed like it. A one-line text is
all I need. Just something to let me know you didn’t get hit by a
truck. It’s common courtesy.”

“You’re right. Sorry.”

Another awkward silence, and the bass beat
from the headphones was audible.

“What were you going to say?” I asked, my
heart aching as I waited for the answer.

He gripped the handle of the floor polisher
as if it were a crutch. “I think maybe we should chill things a
little.”

I would
not
let him know how much that
hurt. “If that’s what you want,” I said so lightly the words bobbed
up to the ceiling like helium balloons.

“We only went on a couple of dates, and all
of a sudden I’m spending a lot of nights a week at your place. It
feels like we should ease off a little.” He spoke slowly as if
sounding out the words.

“That makes sense.” I could be logical too.
Logic was my business. Lawyers aren’t known for acting from the
heart. But inside I was crumbling. When had Jason become so
important to me? When had I started to care so much?

“I’m not saying we should stop seeing each
other completely. Just maybe—”

“Go slower. I get it. How slow do you want to
go? Once a week? Once a month? Whenever it’s convenient for you?”
My calm disintegrated leaving me sharp-tongued and abrasive even
though he had a valid point.

He met my gaze at last. “Please don’t be mad.
This isn’t about you.”

I laughed. “It’s not you. It’s me. I know.
I’ve heard that one.” I’d been dumped by a lot of short-term
lovers. Somehow I’d thought Jason would be more.

He reached out and grasped my arm. “Listen,
Anna. Just give me some time to process things.”

I bit my lower lip, which was starting to
tremble. I’d thought I had things under control, that the “no call”
weekend hadn’t bothered me that much. But now I was taking out my
frustration on poor Jason, who was trying to make sense of our
relationship just like I was. “You’re right. We should back off to
more casual dating.”

What I really wanted was to throw my arms
around him and feel his arms around me. Whenever someone gave the
“brakes on” speech, it usually led to seeing less of each other
until the relationship dwindled away. “I’ll call you sometime. Or
you call me whenever.”

Jason moved closer and leaned to kiss me, a
brief press of the lips but so potent, I trembled when he pulled
away. “Be patient with me, please.”

I nodded. I could do that. I could do
anything he wanted. The strength of my emotions scared the hell out
of me. I hadn’t let my guard down like this ever, certainly not
with Tim.

As I retreated down the hallway, Jason
returned to work. I took a last glance at his shoulders stretching
the coverall as he guided the polisher back and forth, and felt a
pang of pure desire. A crystal-clear realization flashed in my
mind: This was no longer a fling. I’d fallen hard for a guy I’d
known for only a short time, a guy who was damaged in more than
physical ways, and nothing about that was going to be easy.

Chapter Eighteen

I followed the buffer in a daze, letting the
machine glide back and forth on autopilot. I’d been torn between
pushing Anna away and clinging to her with all my might. I could
see a hundred reasons why we would never work in the long run and
only a few reasons for us to be together.

After my meeting with Lisa, I’d realized I
should figure out who the hell I was before inflicting myself on
any more women. Was I the guy who’d paid off his girlfriend when
she got pregnant rather than deal with the consequences, the guy
who drank too much and drove too fast? Or was I the harmless but
aimless dude I’d become after the accident? My therapist used to
talk about becoming an “integrated person,” and now I thought I
understood what he was talking about. Could I eventually become
somebody whole enough to be with Anna?

Not if I carried on like I had with Lisa the
other night. Her flattering crush had given me an ego boost I’d
needed after the pained look Anna wore when she introduced me to
her parents. She couldn’t hide the fact I was an embarrassment to
her, even if she’d never said it aloud. Lisa wanting me had felt
good, so I’d gone for her. A few beers, a little making out, and
then suddenly we’d been practically fucking in the backseat of her
car. Shit!

I hadn’t technically cheated on Anna, since
we’d never defined our relationship, but I knew I’d done wrong.
Yeah, Lisa and I didn’t complete the pass, but we’d gotten pretty
personal, and somehow I knew Anna would think it was a big deal, a
breach of an unspoken agreement. I certainly hadn’t rushed to tell
her about it.

So taking time apart to figure out my life
was probably a smart decision, but by the time I’d polished twenty
more feet of hallway, I realized it was also going to hurt like
hell. I plugged my earbuds in and pumped up the volume. The Naked
Farmers filled my head with noise and carried me through the
longest night of work I’d ever slugged through. The monotony of my
job used to make me feel secure. Now I was restless and couldn’t
bear the boredom. I wanted to fly away, try something new and more
challenging. Problem was I had no idea what that might be.

I finished after midnight, then headed for
the bus stop, kicking myself for having the “brakes on” talk with
Anna. I could be climbing into bed with her, holding her warm body
close to mine tonight. Instead, I entered my dark, musty room. The
“apartment of despair,” Katie called the place when my family
helped me move in. I was alone again. Was that really what I
wanted?

The next day, I went to the Opportunity
Center before my shift began and talked to my caseworker about job
options. Pickings were lean. I was lucky to have any job with my
diminished skill set. I was hardly a prime candidate for most
employers.

After that futile visit, I dropped by the
survivors’ group. I sat on a metal folding chair beside Rob,
greeting the usual suspects and the newbies before Maxie opened the
meeting.

“Does anyone have something they’d like to
talk about today?”

A new girl, whose name I’d forgotten, raised
her hand. “I just wanted to say I was able to use the parking
garage where my assault took place for the first time since it
happened. No panic attack. I’m pretty proud of myself.”

Everyone offered congratulations and
encouragement.

“I’ve got news,” Rob spoke up. “I’ve got
investors and a bid in on a space. I should be able to open my
store in a few months. For the first time in a long time, I feel
really hopeful.”

I felt bad for the guy. Opening a hobby shop
in this economy wasn’t a smart move. The idea had failure stamped
all over it. But Rob sounded more positive than I’d ever heard him,
so I added my congratulations to the rest.

Maxie looked at me. “What about you, Jason.
Do you have anything to share?”

Uh, let’s see, I’d just taken the best chance
at a relationship I’d probably ever have and more or less flushed
it. “Nothing really. Just trying to figure out what I can do
besides janitorial work. Not coming up with much.”

“What happened with that girl you like?” Rob
blew the lid off what I’d told him in confidence.

“That’s…on hold for now.”

“She dumped you. Told you it couldn’t work
out.”

I wanted to punch him. “As a matter of fact,
I was the one who thought we ought to go slow. Anyway, aren’t we
supposed to be talking about survivor guilt or something? My love
life is my business, my
personal
business.” My temper went
from chill to red-hot in seconds flat. I was shouting, and everyone
stared.

“All right,” Maxie soothed. “You don’t have
to discuss anything you don’t want to, but this must be a pretty
significant event for you. Rebuilding a romantic life after trauma
is no small thing. It seems you’re feeling pretty emotional about
it. That’s what the group is for, to air your feelings about
anything important in your life.”

“My business,” I repeated stiffly and jerked
my head at Rob. “This asshole had no right to bring it up.”

Rob held his hands, palms up. “Fine. But it
sounds like you broke it off because you were scared she’d boot you
first.”

I lunged toward Rob, not quite coming out of
my chair. I felt like an angry dog whose leash was close to
snapping. “Shut the hell up.”

“Rob, stop trying to push Jason’s buttons,”
Maxie cautioned.

“I’m not. Just bringing a little honesty into
the discussion. He’s been dating this lawyer, somebody way out of
his league. It’s only natural he’d be worried about how long it
could last.”

Naomi Johnson reached over and patted my knee
with one blue-veined hand. “Don’t shortchange yourself, Jason.
You’re a very nice-looking young man.”

“Is she the first person you’ve dated since
your accident? Maybe you need to sort out your own shit before you
bring another person into it,” Serena said.

“I’m well aware I need to sort out my shit,
thank you,” I said through clenched teeth.

“What’s holding you back?” Serena pushed as
relentlessly as Rob. “How do you really feel about your accident
and getting injured?”

I looked to Maxie for help, but she remained
silent, allowing the questioning.

“Pissed off. Okay?” I yelled. “That’s what I
feel. Really pissed at myself for ruining my life, and…pissed at
the world for going on like normal.”

“We all get angry. That’s natural,” Maxie
said. “You’ve heard everybody here express their anger. It’s okay
to be mad at life, but eventually you have to stop laying
blame—whether it be on an attacker or on yourself—and start moving
on.”

I gulped back the lump in my throat that
suddenly choked me.

“Or the weather,” Mrs. Johnson piped up out
of left field. “I’ve spent all this time hating a tornado for
taking my house and killing my dog. Pretty pointless to rage
against a mindless storm.”

Her comment ignited a quiet chuckle in the
group, diffusing the tense silence my outburst had caused.

“I’m trying to move on. But some of the
blanks from my past are starting to fill in, and I don’t like the
picture of me I’m seeing,” I admitted.

“All of us need second chances.” For once,
Rob’s tone wasn’t confrontational. He sounded downright friendly.
“Take a hard look at who you were and then let it go.”

“Make amends,” Maxie added. “Apologize to
whoever you need to, including yourself.”

Chrissy.
That’s where I should start.
The answer was as clear as if someone had spoken her name in my
ear. If I talked to her, maybe I could do what Maxie and Rob
suggested, lay the past to rest and focus on building a future.

Chapter Nineteen

Nothing’s harder than being in a holding
pattern, uncertain whether your relationship is over or just taking
a breather. During the week after our talk, Jason and I continued
to send texts back and forth, polite little tidbits about our days,
but neither of us suggested getting together. I certainly didn’t
ask him to watch Baby for me. And as days slipped past, I missed
him more and more. I hadn’t realized how I’d come to depend on
Jason—not just to sit for my dog or fill the man-shaped hole in my
bed—but as a friend. I missed his smart-assed comments, his casual
wisdom when I started to tie myself into knots over some real or
imagined worry. Jason was a calming influence over me.

Reading texts wasn’t the same as talking to
him. I missed the sound of his voice, and yet I couldn’t bring
myself to call. He was the one who’d suggested a temporary break,
so I should wait for him to contact me. But it was hard to lie in
my bed at night with Baby snoring near my ear and know Jason
wouldn’t be joining us later. He wouldn’t walk softly into my room,
slip out of his clothes, and slide under the covers, his flesh
heating me through and his arms pulling me against his hard
body.

The next weekend, I decided I needed a girls’
night out. I lined up Cindy and a couple of her friends I’d come to
know since moving to Columbus. We went out for drinks and dancing.
Get drunk enough and dance fast enough and it’s possible to escape
sadness for a while. It didn’t hurt that a group of hot guys joined
us at our table. Flirting was a good distraction, but at the end of
the evening, I didn’t want to take home Mr. Tall, Dark, and Too Hot
for His Own Ego. I left the club alone.