F
ate has to be a prankster. I know this because someone up there has to be laughing his ass off at me. I never thought it’d happen to me, but it has. I’ve fallen for a girl. A girl I was only supposed to pay back for intervening in her life and fucking it up completely. Now I can’t see her not being in mine. I knew once I slept with her things would change, I thought she’d get clingy and want to be around me all the time and not want to share me with other women. Turns out since I met her I can’t even think about just screwing around with someone else. Not the way she makes me feel. Her smile makes me feel like everything I thought I had was worthless. I hate it but can’t let it go at the same time.
Nothing will make me let her go.
“So you’re sure you’re ready to up the dosage on this?” Helen asks me for the third time.
“No, I’m not sure. I’m just wasting both of our time because I have nothing better do.”
“You said it’s safe, right?” I say, irritated with her hesitancy all of a sudden.
“We’re still running clinical trials in Russia, and they are a lot more l…”
“Save me the FDA disclaimer Helen. I want to do this.”
“Okay. Okay. Don’t let me stop you,” she says defensively.
“Not like I would,” I give her a wink to let her know I’m an asshole only in fun. She rolls her eyes at me and sighs.
“Remember, the slightest thing happens out of the ordinary, you let me know,” she says with a worried grin, one a mom would give her wayward son. I push that thought to the back of my brain where the garbage goes.
“So if I may ask,” she starts.
“And you’re going to ask anyway…”
“Why are you doing this Cal?”
“Seriously?” I ask her in disbelief.
“I think it’s for the girl,” she says knowingly.
“The girl’s name is Lauren,” I correct her.
“I think it’s time that we meet Lauren,” she says with a wide smile.
“Okay,” I say simply grabbing my jacket preparing for the crazy Chicago weather that’s going to greet me downstairs. Her eyebrows raise.
“That’s it. It’s that simple?” she’s surprised.
“She’s been asking questions about meeting my family, and well, you know that wouldn’t exactly work out,” I say sarcastically.
“I’m shocked. You really care about her!” Helen’s way too excited as she steps out from behind her big intimidating desk and swats me on the chest. I shrug her off but I can’t help the smile I give her. It feels good for it to be out there. That it’s been said.
“Have you told her about…?”
“No and I expect it not to come up in conversation,” I warn her.
“Of course. I would never—I sort of have an oath that I’m bound by,” she says gesturing to her wall of a thousand degrees.
“I will be Dexter’s beautiful brilliant wife, and your friend only,” she says happily.
“And make sure Dex doesn’t make any snide comments, I’d hate to kick his ass in his own house.”
“I will handle Dexter. I’ll have Luc come and make a fantastic dinner, we will tell her how great you are.”
“Well, I’ll see you. Email me the details,” I say heading out the door.
“Cal,” she calls. I knew that was too easy.
“If you really care about her. You should tell her or at least start to prepare her. It’s not fair for her to not know,” she says solemnly. I pull out the little bottle of pills she gave me earlier.
“If you’re as good as you say you are. Soon there won’t be anything for her to know.”
I want to get Helen’s words out of my head. I’m not afraid of much, but the thought of Lauren finding out about me, of her looking at me differently scares the shit out of me. I can hear music playing before I open the door.
She stayed.
I’ve been trying to get her to stay at my house when I go on trips for the past few months but she always puts up a fight, she’s stubborn as hell. I didn’t take her for that when I first met her. The only time she really gives in is when I’m inside her, and I can’t complain about that.
“You’re home early,” she squeals leaning over the railing upstairs. Her smile is always contagious. She bounces down the stairs, wearing a tight t-shirt squeezing her apple sized breast and tiny shorts that she won’t have on much longer. She jumps in my arms.
“Ugh, you’re cold!” she laughs trying to get away but I hold her close to me.
“I’m about to warm you up,” I tell her, my hand slipping underneath her shirt.
“Your hands aren’t,” she purrs, kissing me lightly. Just a taste, a tease, she’s about to give way more than that.
“You’re just in time to watch
The Notebook
,” she says excitedly attempting to get out of my grasp.
“The Notebook…” I groan.
Hell no.
“And there’s popcorn,” she giggles, gesturing to it.
Ugh. I want to say no then she gives me her sexy ass little pout face. I roll my eyes.
“Okay,” I give in.
“Yay!” she claps her hands and then helps me take off my coat. I flop on my couch and a second later she scooches in front of me.
“You used my shampoo.”
“I like smelling like you,” she admits with a giggle.
“Was it terrible being here?”
“Absolutely, it’s too big, too luxurious and is not up to my standards at all,” she says sarcastically.
“My friend Dex. The one I told you about. Him and Helen invited us to dinner,” I say casually.
“You want me to?” she asks, she sounds surprised.
“Only if you want to go.”
“I do,” she says quickly.
“Good.” A few minutes pass as I try to think of the most discreet way to get her out of these shorts. If her butt didn’t look so good in them, I’d beg her to only wear skirts and dresses.
“I was starting to think you were ashamed of me or something,” she says playfully, but there’s a hint of truth behind her voice. I turn her towards me.
“I’d have to be a fucking lunatic to be ashamed of you,” I tell her and she smiles, the same smile that got me here instead of watching the game, watching
The Notebook
. She kisses me, it’s innocent, but enough of an opening for me to pull her lips into mine, her mouth opens partially and I coax out her tongue as I squeeze her ass. It drives her crazy and the little sounds she makes trying to hide the fact makes me insane.
“Nooo,” she moans into my mouth and breaks away.
“Not until the movie’s over,” she giggles, quickly turning away from me but she’s close enough I can change her mind. I slip my hands underneath her t-shirt and drag my fingers across her stomach. She takes my hand in hers, stopping my path. I grunt.
“I know what you’re trying to do,” she giggles. I stop and look at her and think about this moment. I could be like this with her…forever. Except forever isn’t really an option with me, unless this medicine that Helen’s team has been working on, actually works. Since I’m volunteering to be the first guinea pig here it’s all a toss-up, but when I look at her…the risk is worth the reward.
You should just tell her.
Helen’s voice echoes in my head. I can’t just tell her—for one, she probably wouldn’t believe me, and if she did, it would change everything.
She’s mine, the one good thing in my life and I’m not going to share her. Everything comes easy for him, life just hands itself over to him and when it doesn’t, he gives up and leaves me to deal with the hard part. I have to fight for what I get, nothing comes easy.
Finding Clay with as much money as I’ve spent should be easy but it’s been a nightmare, him slipping out of my grasp as soon as I have him. He’s the last thing I need to put to bed. After he’s done, maybe, just maybe, things will be easy and I can have a chance at something with Lauren. Before her I never wanted a permanent fixture in my life, now I need it more than anything.
I won’t let her go.
I
feel like a clock is running, each second that passes causes a crack to appear in an already fragile glass that’s barely holding itself together. I hoped coming back to Madison would provide some kind of normalcy, some form of comfort. But right now it feels constricting, like I’m trapped, unable to escape and everything is closing in on me. My visit with Aidan didn’t yield any information, it just made me feel as if I’m standing next to a bomb that’s about to blow, but I can’t leave because the man I love is strapped in a chair next to it…
I hate all of this, secrets and lies. I thought I was moving past that but I was wrong. I was wrong about Cal opening up to me. I was wrong about thinking Chris would be more understanding of this situation with Cal, and I was wrong to think that I could handle this on my own, that I could make this work. Right now it seems like nothing is okay.
Everything is on the brink of chaos. My head won’t stop pounding, and anxiety is my new best friend. I feel like I’m a perpetual marathon, but I can’t appear that way. I have to appear strong, I have to appear hopeful, like I haven’t given up, that things are looking up from here, but in reality I’m barely holding on. There are so many conflicting emotions coursing through me, battling with each other until I’m exhausted. Right now I’m so tired I’m starting to feel numb.
I try to pull myself together as I sit outside the Crestfield mansion. Helen’s in there, waiting on me. I was excited about seeing her, someone who could possibly help me to understand the reality of this, but now I feel like I’m going to see a doctor who holds my life in her hands. When I arrive at the door I’m greeted by one of the housekeepers. She leads me to the second floor, sun seeping through the house, extravagant paintings on the wall. The décor doesn’t seem to fit Helen or Dexter at all. It feels as if we’ve been walking forever through the house—not house, this is a mansion.
When we reach our destination the housekeeper knocks on the door and introduces me. It’s all so formal and a bit intimidating. Helen calls for us to come in. The room is large and, of course, all white and neutral colors. Helen is sitting behind a white desk that stretches out across one corner of the room. There’s two big beige arm chairs in front of the desk and a fire place adjacent. The other side of the room seems more for pleasure with a large television mounted on the wall and a matching white sofa sprawled out in front of it. The carpet is white with not one blemish on it. It’s modern and completely different from the rest of the house.
“Lauren,” she greets me. Her tone is warm and welcoming. She looks different with her hair half up and the rest down. She’s wearing a large button up that falls over her statuesque frame and black tights underneath.
“Could you bring up a pitcher of lemon water, Grace,” Helen says, coming from behind her desk.
“Of course Mrs. Crestfield,” the housekeeper says before leaving the room.
“Is it okay if I give you a hug?” she asks cautiously. I feel my cheeks heat up with embarrassment over what happened the last time I saw her. I nod, meeting her half way. Her embrace isn’t awkward or stiff, which is how I expected it to be, but warm and comforting. I wonder if the Helen I knew, is the real Helen. Cool, calm, collected and sharp. Was that the role she had to play to observe me, to make sure I was a good fit for him? Or is she playing the role now as a nice kind ear just ready to listen and filled wisdom and knowledge. The thought makes me stiffen up. She pulls back from me, her expression sad and full of sincerity.