I want her to come home, but I’m not going to pressure her. If she feels she needs more time, then that’s exactly what I’ll give her for as long as she wants.
“You can have more time, but the second you truly believe you’re ready to come home, call me and I’ll be on the first flight, regardless of where I am in the world.”
Mom reaches out and cups my face. “Oh, my baby boy.” she sniffles and blinks back tears. “I’m sorry you had to take care of me. You’ve done so much for me…I’m the parent, not you, and yet you stepped up to the plate and kept me going.”
To hear her acknowledge all that I’ve done for her strikes me directly in the heart. It makes everything I’ve done worth it. It makes all of the stress, all of the sleepless nights and scares I’ve endured worth it.
Her bottom lip quivers and I want to flinch away. Seeing your mother cry is the worst thing in the world. It makes you feel small and helpless, like a child.
“Now that I’ve passed the dark stage I was in, I can admit to myself and to you that I wanted to die. Before I fell asleep every night, I prayed for death. I begged God to not let me wake up, knowing I’d have to repeat it over and over—waking up alone, driving to work alone, eating alone—all of the things I was so used to doing with your father, I had to do alone and it affected me.”
She leans forward, planting a quick kiss on my forehead. “I never want to feel that again. I never want my children to see me like that ever again. I’m better now, not perfect, but better.”
I’ve never really had a deep and meaningful conversation with Mom. Not like this, anyway. She drops her hands from my face and I smile at her. “You were never alone and you never will be.”
A distracting beep over the P.A. pulls us from our conversation and Mom wipes her pink face with the back of her hand, sniffling with sadness…no, happiness—maybe both.
“Attention guests, visiting time is now over. Please say your goodbyes. You are more than welcome to return in four hours when visiting hours recommence. Thank you.”
I rise to my feet and run my fingers briefly through my hair.
“How long are you in California for?” Mom asks, pushing up off of the couch.
“Until tomorrow morning. I was going to take Olivia to the beach this afternoon, but I’ll come back and visit you instead.”
She scoffs and swats me away. “Don’t be silly. Take the girl to the beach. Cali is too beautiful to be stuck indoors.”
“But—”
“No buts.” Her long, thin arms surround me as she pulls me in for a hug and her familiar scent envelops me. “Take her to the beach. I’ll be fine.”
After a quick goodbye, I close her door behind me and draw in a deep inhale. When I exhale, I feel different—renewed. Mom is okay. For the first time in a long time, she isn’t playing on my mind and I’m completely at ease when I think about her. It has been years since I’ve felt that way, and since meeting Olivia, the old chapters in my story have closed one by one—Mason, Mom, all of the random girls and even Don. From here, new chapters will be written and they’ll feature Olivia in every single sentence of every single paragraph. Without her, my story can’t move forward and it can’t be completed. I love her. She’s the one good thing I’ve allowed myself to have since I let Dad get into my head, and so far, so good. Maybe I am good. If I wasn’t, why would the universe give Olivia to me? They wouldn’t put someone as innocent as her in harm’s way.
Maybe Dad was wrong about me.
Chapter Twelve
Olivia
I watch the beautiful girls in glamorous dresses practically glide around the restaurant. I envy them and their porcelain skin. I envy the way they sway with fluid movements—movements so graceful, they give flowers swaying gently in the afternoon breeze a run for their money. I definitely feel like I’m sitting low on the attractive scale tonight—especially with the minor sunburn I received after being at the beach with Seth all day. Why he let me sleep in the middle of a Californian beach in the middle of the day is beyond me. Apparently, I looked ‘too comfortable’ to wake. He smiles at me from across the table and I roll my eyes at him. I don’t care how comfortable I looked, I’m not comfortable anymore, my skin stings a little and I’m tired as hell.
The tight black dress with the plunging neckline I’ve chosen to wear tonight may make me look slimmer, but it does nothing to lessen the pinkish hue in my skin.
“I’m assuming you’ve been to California before?” I ask, slipping a piece of ravioli into my mouth.
Seth has been more than accommodating here in California. He knows which beaches to hit, what restaurants make the best steak, and I’ve yet to pull out my wallet to pay for anything—which is very strange for me. With Blade, I paid for almost everything. I don’t like depending on people, it makes me uncomfortable. Depending on someone else doesn’t come natural to me, but Seth has no problem swiping his card anywhere we go.
“Jackson and I used to come here every summer for a couple of years.”
He smiles at me before taking a long sip of his ice cold water. I admire the way his black formal shirt tightens around his thick arms as he lowers the glass to the table.
“Hardly an innocent visit, I presume?”
His eyes flare, dropping briefly to my chest before dragging back to my face. His lips curve into a mischievous smirk. “Is anything I do innocent?”
Marveling over my burning cheeks and how quickly he made them flush, I reply, “Never.”
He holds me in his stare and suddenly my mouth is dry. I swallow hard and his dark eyes drop to my throat. The way he stares at me, like he wants to take me right now, sends a myriad of heat through my body and it pulses everywhere. I quickly run my tongue over my lips to moisten them. I need to do something—anything—to quench my desire for him and to stop myself from diving over the table and running my mouth over him. He looks at my lips with such fierce, erotic intensity before finally looking me in the eyes.
“Let’s get out of here.”
There’s no question to his words. He wants to get out of here, now. Dropping my fork against my bowl with a cling, I nod my head. Who needs dinner when I have dessert waiting for me? Seth rushes to his feet in a hurry, pulling cash from his back pocket and dropping it on the table. As I push my seat back, a tall, beautiful girl in a gorgeous red gown floats graciously toward our table. Her eyes are on me first and I look at Seth, who’s watching me with a questioning gleam in his eye. I arch an eyebrow. Strange that he thinks she’s here for me, I haven’t made any friends in California and Selena is my only real girl friend, anyway. I give him a ‘She’s not mine’ shake of the head and look back to the girl, who’s closed the distance between her and the table. Once she’s here, her gaze shifts to Seth and I’m no longer worthy of her attention. I take in her tight red dress. It clings to the subtle curves of her body and I hate that it looks so fucking good on her.
“Seth!” she cheers, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around his neck. “I can’t believe it, it’s been so long!”
I watch, curiously, as his body goes rigid and he places a hand on the small of her back, returning the hug—sort of. When she pulls back, he seems almost frustrated.
“Don’t tell me you don’t remember me?”
He glances at me, his facial expression melting from annoyed to worried. There’s a bubble in my chest…jealousy? I think so. I’m mad, but I don’t want him to know it. Frustration burrows in under my ribs and I shuffle back in my seat. I forgot that Seth has a myriad of lady followers—I remember the ones that came for him in the gym clearly.
“No, sorry.”
She shifts her weight, planting a manicured hand firmly on her hip. “Jesse? We hung out at the Newport beach party last year.” The way she says ‘hung’ makes me sick. I really hope she stops sparing my feelings—besides, how old is she?
“How old are you?” I blurt out, leaning forward in my chair.
Seth’s stare flicks to me, warning clear in his eyes. I’m not implying Seth would voluntarily have sex with someone under the legal limit, but there’s no way this girl is older than seventeen.
“Twenty-six.”
I clench my teeth to prevent my mouth from falling open. Twenty-six? How is she older than both Seth and I? Her face is doll-like and she has a mass of golden curls that are tied into a classy bun. She has high cheek bones and huge blue eyes. Seventeen. I swear to god she’s seventeen.
“Anyway—” She exhales, turning her attention back to Seth. “How long will you be in California?”
“Not long…” He glances sideways at me. “Maybe we should have this conversation somewhere else.”
The red-lipped smile that spreads over her face makes me sick. As she steps past him, he turns to me. “I’ll be right back. Stay here.”
I’m glaring at him, I can feel it. With a clenched jaw, Seth turns and follows the girl somewhere. When they disappear from sight, I slump into myself.
I tap my fingers along the white tablecloth for what feels like my fourth hour. I pull my phone from my handbag. It’s only been eleven minutes. I sigh, dropping it back inside and placing my bag on the table. What the hell is this? We’re having dinner one minute and about to go home and tear into each other. The next, he’s gone with a girl he’s fucked and I’m alone at the table. That’s not okay, right? Shit. I don’t know. I don’t know what’s acceptable and what isn’t! Why couldn’t he tell her to go? Why couldn’t he tell her we were leaving? Why am I so pissed off? I can feel it poisoning my mood.
As soon as that thought passes, Seth appears back at the edge of the table. “Ready to go?”
Without a word, I grab my bag and rise to my feet. I keep my eyes on the floor as we leave the restaurant. When we reach the car, he opens the door for me and I climb in. When he slips into the driver’s seat and shuts his door, my brain sends words shooting from my mouth before getting my tongue’s approval.
“Did you have sex with her last time you were here?” I’m proud of the indifference in my voice.
“Yes.” Not one second of hesitation on his part and I don’t know whether I should be disturbed or proud of his honesty. “Are you mad?”
I ponder the question, raking my teeth over my bottom lip, nervously. “I don’t know…is it always going to be like this?”
He doesn’t answer and I take it as a big fat yes.
“Olivia, I told you that this part of my life was complicated. It’s not complicated with drama and dark secrets. It’s complicated with girls and their partners who want to kick my ass. I want to tell you that it won’t happen again, but that’d be a lie.” He exhales. “I’m not good…and I don’t have any emotional back story that’ll make you sympathize with my behavior. I like sex—love sex—I love the way it feels. Plain and simple. I’m bad, I told you that…and you still wanted me.”
He’s right, I know that, but things were different before I fell in love with him. Back then, I only wanted fun. I only wanted to get back at Blade, but now, I want to be with Seth for the rest of my life. I want to be proud of him…I don’t want to feel sick every time a girl talks to him because they’ve fucked. It’s not a nice feeling.
“I don’t want to fight, just take us home,” I tell him, leaning back against the headrest and shutting my eyes against a headache that threatens to form. I know he’s going to try and sort this out before we sleep and I hope we can. I don’t want our time to be ruined because of this.
I’d like to say I’m happy with my own thoughts, but at this moment, my thoughts suck. I keep picturing the two of them having sex…her golden hair flowing everywhere, his strong hands gripping her hips as he thrusts into her.
I open my eyes, desperate to get away from the mental visions.
“Enjoy the silence while you can,” he grumbles. “Because we’re talking as soon as we get back.”
I look out the window as dread fills my stomach. Talks with Seth are always intense…he doesn’t believe in sulking and ignoring the issue. He faces things head on and doesn’t stop until a conclusion is made. I don’t know whether I like that approach…or absolutely loathe it. Either way, it was going to happen.
Chapter Thirteen
Seth
She drops onto the bed and kicks off her shoes while I lean against the wall with my arms crossed firmly over my chest. I watch as she reaches up to pull the big hoops from her ears and one after the other, she tosses them onto the mahogany bedside table. She’s preparing for bed, but there’s no way in hell I’m letting her go to sleep yet, not until I break down every thought she has and reassure her that she is all I want. I’ll replenish whatever love she lost for me tonight and then some—I won’t take anything less than one hundred and fifty percent.
“Tell me the three little words I said to you in Boston.”
She shakes her head. I know she doesn’t want to get into this now, but I’m not giving her a choice.
“Seth—”
“Tell me,” I demand, stepping forward. “I want to hear you say it.”
“I love you,” she mumbles.
Easy enough.
“Now ask me how many girls I’ve said it to, besides you.”
Olivia sighs, her attitude suddenly radiating off of her in waves. “I don’t want to—”
“Ask me.” My voice comes out a lot more aggressive than I intended, but it startles her enough to answer me.