You Make Me (20 page)

That hurt. “I didn’t ask for any of this. I didn’t ask for Heath to show up here and I didn’t ask for Ethan to be jealous.”

For some reason, she was furious and I was starting to think it wasn’t even totally about me.

“Oh, poor you! Oh my God, two guys are madly in love with me, what should I do?” She used a high-pitched mocking voice before returning to her normal voice. “It must be so fucking hard to have to choose between two guys who think you crap rainbow shit.”

Tears sprang to my eyes. “Aubrey.” I wasn’t even sure what to say. Did she think any of this was easy? Did she think I’d had some kind of devotion filled life? Saturated with happiness? She was the one with the normal family and the normal house and the normal expectations. I didn’t need sympathy for my childhood but I didn’t need someone telling me it was a cake walk. “Is that what you think of me? That I’m some pampered princess?”

“It’s just hard to dredge up sympathy when you have two guys clamoring for you and I can’t get a guy to even put any amount of effort into having sex with me, let alone dating me.”

I’d known she was feeling lonely and angry at guys, but I hadn’t realized how deep the nerve went. “I’m sorry. I know there’s a guy out there for you. But I guess I should have told you more about my life before UMaine or maybe you would understand. I guess that’s my bad.”

“Maybe you should have.” She sighed. “Look, I just feel caught in the middle, okay? My best friend and my brother. It sucks. And I get why they love you, I don’t mean that I don’t.” She gave a tight smile. “I mean, I dig you too, or we wouldn’t be friends. But I’m feeling bitter that some chicks seem to inspire devotion and others, myself included, only seem to inspire lust, and that’s half-assed at best. I can’t even get a loser to want to be with me.”

I wasn’t even sure what to say to that. I couldn’t say that I thought maybe she led with her vagina when it came to guys, and established that she was for fun, nothing more. It was one thing to be all in for the booty call and make it known that was what you were going for, but she used that as a cover, a mask. She really wanted more, and each time she settled and told herself she wasn’t settling, it eroded her self-esteem. But there was no going Dr. Phil on her or she’d chalk it up to me being patronizing.

Standing up, I went over and inserted myself between her and the desk, perching my ass on her open textbook. “Hey. Knock it off. That is not true. And losers are too intimidated to go for you. Why don’t you just focus on the right types of guys instead of going along with whatever douche hits on you?”

She looked up and gave me a wan smile. “Sure. No problem. Now are you going to be dating Heath? Give me the truth, a head’s up here, so I can figure out what the hell I’m going to say to Ethan.”

Wincing, I crossed my arms over my chest. “I’m sorry you’re in that position. Do you want me to talk to Ethan?” I would basically rather let fire ants attack my crotch, but it was probably the right thing to do. “But yes, we’re going to be… dating.” I wasn’t sure that was even the right term for it but I didn’t have a better one.

“No. I honestly don’t think you should talk to him. It will be easier for him coming from me. Though I don’t think he’s going to be all that surprised.”

“No. I don’t think he will be.” I was truly sorry for that. I was sorry for a lot of things. “I know it sounds weird and shitty and selfish, but I don’t regret any of the time I was with Ethan. It hurt like hell when he broke up with me. I know you’re thinking how can I say that when I’m already involved with Heath again, but it’s two separate things… Ethan is such a good guy and he gave me respect and a stable, even relationship, and I did, do love him. I’m not just some c bag who used him. I really hope you know that.” I sighed. “I can’t explain it, but it is possible to love two guys. It’s just different.”

“I don’t think you’re a c bag. Though I would like to hear you actually say cunt out loud.” She gave me a wicked smile. “And you’re already wincing. It’s ironic, isn’t it? I was raised all white collar suburban and I’m the one with the sailor’s mouth. You grew up around fishermen and you’re uncomfortable with cunt.”

She was one hundred percent right. I was physically squirming. “Stop saying it. God, I hate that word.”

Aubrey laughed.

My phone buzzed. I pulled it out. It was a text from Heath. I immediately blushed, I couldn’t help it.

“I bet Heath says cunt,” Aubrey commented.

“Stop!” I laughed. “And no, he does not. Not that I’ve ever heard.”

“He was in the military, of course he does.”

“I don’t think so.” I read the text. I couldn’t help it. I knew I should wait, but I couldn’t resist.

Tonight?

A shiver went through me. We hadn’t talked about when we would see each other again. I had hoped, assumed it would be soon, but after our conversation about being discreet, I figured I was going to have to be the one to suggest when and where. But that wasn’t Heath. I should have known that. He wasn’t patient and he didn’t wait.

It was one of the things I liked about him. He was commanding.

Yes. Your place. What time?

Whenever. Bring your toothbrush. Discreetly.

That made me smile.

But when I glanced up, Aubrey was watching me.

“Be careful,” she said quietly. “Something tells me that this guy is the kind of guy who could ignite like gasoline at any given moment. I don’t want you getting burned.”

She didn’t know him. “I know him better than I know myself, Aub,” I told her, sincerely. “He would never hurt me.”

But she frowned. “He already has, Caitlyn.”

That wasn’t his fault. And I wasn’t going to defend him for it. “No. He hasn’t.”

I don’t like you walking by yourself. I’ll come get you.

Not at the house. Meet you down the street.

Call me while you’re walking.

I dialed Heath as I went out the front door, trying to hide my grin. “Hey,” I said, when he answered. “I think I can walk across campus without imminent danger.”

“Said every girl who was ever raped or murdered.”

He had a point, I had to admit. “Okay, okay. Which way are you walking? I don’t want to somehow miss you because that would be stupid.”

“You could just let me pick you up at your house.”

“A couple weeks. We’ll ease people into it. But you didn’t actually answer the question.”

“I’m five feet in front of you. I’ve been here for twenty minutes.”

I looked up and down the street, startled. There he was at the end of the block, phone to his ear. I should have known. I waved. “Hi.”

His voice in my ear was amused. “Hi. You didn’t really think I was going to let you walk five blocks in the dark, did you?”

“No, I guess not, but I think you’re being overly cautious.”

“I’ve seen people at their worst. It’s an ugly world. Let me look out for you.”

There was no way to argue with that. “Okay.” I came up to him and stopped.

He kissed me, our phones still at our ears. “Hang up your phone, Cat.”

I smiled, mouth still up against his lips. “I’ll think about it.”

Gently tugging my phone from my hands, he hit the end button. He handed it back. “There you go.” He put his own phone into his pocket and cupped my cheeks with his hands. “I’m glad to see you. I missed you.”

“It’s only been five hours.”

“That’s too long.”

That made me feel squishy and warm inside, despite the snow. I took his hand as we started walking. “So what terrible things did you see?” I wanted to know what he’d been through, how it might have changed him.

“The thing is if I tell you that I can’t un-tell you, you know what I mean? And if I tell you your reaction will be either that you feel sorry for me or you’ll be horrified, neither of which I want. I’ll tell you stuff, in my own way, when it’s not a
talk
. When you haven’t asked me outright, okay?”

“Okay.” I couldn’t disagree with him. I had no idea what he had experienced but it was clearly something I knew nothing about. It would be selfish to push him, and immature not to respect what he was saying. It didn’t mean he was keeping secrets, he just had to work it out on his own terms.

And I had things I would never tell him about. I would never share the full details of my relationship with Ethan. Why would I? Just like I didn’t want to know who he had dated and what he had done with them. Now we had a past that was separate from each other, which seemed strange. But maybe someday we would share everything again, when it no longer mattered what had come before our reunion.

“Did you bring your toothbrush and your jammies?” he asked in a clear change of subject.

“I need jammies?” I had nothing except my house key and phone. Funny enough, I had always made sure I had a toothbrush and makeup, clean clothes, when I stayed with Ethan. He liked me put together. Or I had thought he liked me put together. He’d never said that. It was just my perception. I had continued the way I had started out with him.

With Heath, I had instinctively reverted back to my low maintenance ways. No brush, no makeup, no cute bra and panties as a treat for him. I didn’t think he would even notice what my underwear looked like. He was more interested in touching me than having an extended show.

“What are you going to sleep in if you don’t have jammies?”

Please. I could tell him what he clearly wanted to hear, which was that I was going to be completely naked, or I could play the game. “I’m sure you have a T-shirt I can borrow.”

“Nope. They’ll all be too big for you.”

Which was totally illogical. I gave him an exaggerated eyelash batting. “I guess I’ll have to sleep in the warmth of your arms then.”

He laughed. “Schmaltzy doesn’t work for you.”

“What, I can’t be romantic?”

“That wasn’t romantic. That was you being sarcastic.”

We were almost to his apartment. “Do you want me to be romantic?” I went up on my tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “I can be whatever you want.”

I didn’t mean that to sound the way that it did. I just meant that I wanted to please him. Not give up my identity or anything.

But he shook his head. “I only want you to be you.”

That was one of the things I loved about him. He genuinely meant that. Even in the midst of teasing, he truly wanted me for me, exactly as I was. “I can do that.”

I had expected that he would take me inside and yank my clothes off, hot and fast. But he didn’t. We sat on the couch together and he rubbed my feet, then I lay with my head in his lap while he stroked my hair. There was a movie on TV, but I barely noticed, more interested in the feeling of his fingers touching me, so softly, with tenderness. They weren’t smooth hands. They were callused and scarred, big, masculine, but they felt right on me. Protective and safe.

When we did go to bed eventually, he was worshipful, slowly taking off my clothes, and caressing me everywhere. He kissed me slowly, from head to toe, and there was nothing desperate or hurried about it. We had all night, and he seemed determined to use it. He left the hall light on, so he could see me without blinding us, and he ran his fingers over every dip and angle and curve of my body, his eyes following the trail.

“I’m the luckiest man alive.”

I was turned on by him, but more importantly I was in tune with him. It felt intimate, right, real. “I feel pretty lucky myself.”

He kissed me, slowly, his tongue dipping inside to stroke mine. He teased between my legs, pushing his erection against me, then pulling back without ever actually entering me. I sighed, amazed at his control, lifting my hips to encourage him. “I need to get a condom,” he murmured. “This is dangerous.”

It was. I was so swollen, so aroused, so in love, I wasn’t sure I cared. But then he slid further up, moving his hardness over my clit, and I let out a low groan. “What… what are you doing?” I squirmed, trying to shift away, the feeling so amazing and intense I didn’t know what to do with it.

“Getting you off,” he said, nipping at my ear lobe, moving himself again with slick strokes.

“It’s working.” It was better than just a finger, it was more complete, more naughty, more enveloping. “Oh, no…” I wasn’t sure why I protested the orgasm as it hit but I did, before biting my lip and enjoying the unexpected wave of pleasure.

He leaned to get a condom and while I was still shivering from the aftereffects, hot saliva in my mouth, he joined us.

There was no hurry, just a slow steady rhythm that drove us both to lock eyes and move together, totally connected. It seemed like each time we’d taken this step, it fused us together a little more. It bonded us indelibly. Permanently.

I held him, my mind completely empty of all thoughts except those of him.

The next morning, Heath opened the door for the diner and I walked in, anticipating a strong cup of coffee. My clothes were rumpled, my hair was insane, and I couldn’t stop yawning. We’d been up half the night. I had wanted to do nothing but stay in bed with him all day but I had to get my ass back to class or I was going to be too far behind to catch up.

“Shit,” he murmured from behind me.

“What?” I asked, glancing back at him.

“Darla is here,” he said in a low voice. “And she’s looking at us.”

We weren’t holding hands or hanging on each other, but it wasn’t going to take a genius to see we were together, together. “Do you want to leave?”

But that made him snort. “No. Of course not.”

He actually went straight over to her table. I followed him, not sure what to do. This seemed like he was just asking for a confrontation.

“Hey, Darla.” He looked at the friend she was with, who I knew from the entrepreneurial club. “Anna, right? Good to see you both. Do you know Cat?”

“Caitlyn? Yes, we’ve met,” Anna said.

Darla just shot daggers at me. But I pasted on a smile. “Hi.”

They both just looked at us pointedly. Heath took the hint and took my hand. “Enjoy your breakfast.”

As he led me away I could feel their eyes on me and on our hands. Awkward.

“I hate upsetting people,” I told him as we sat in the table the hostess had directed us to. I fanned myself with the menu, doggedly determined not to look back over at them. “She looked hurt.”