Redemptive
Page 26
“No. Why?”
He shrugged. “Just wondering what kind of guys you’re into.”
“I’m not really into any kind of guy…” I said slowly. “Why? What’s this about?”
“Nothing.”
“Nate… what’s going on?”
He tapped my knee twice, but still refused to look at me. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just wondering what’s happening here.”
“Here?”
“Between us, I mean. I don’t really know what to make of it.”
I shrugged, not knowing what to say. I opened my mouth, willing words to leave me. They never did.
“Do you think—” he broke off and released a breath.
I tried to kiss him, but he pulled away.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m just confused, I guess. I’ve had a shitty day, and I need to clear my head, and I need to get out of this fuckin’ room.”
“Okay,” I whispered, trying to hide the hurt in my voice.
He stood up and left, never once looking back, and I returned to the counting, fighting the tears and the voices in my head.
Tiny came down and brought me food. I administered my meds on my own for the first time. And then I got back into bed and embraced the numbness that would help me get through the pain and the heartache that seemed to be my life. *
I sat up when the basement door opened hours later. After a moment, Nate stood over me.
“What are you doing?” he asked casually.
“Trying to sleep.”
“Can we talk?”
My anger flared. I lay back down and flipped to my side, pushing my face into the pillow. “You can do whatever you want. It’s your house.”
He leaned against the wall next to the mattress and rubbed his eyes. “I’m sorry, Bailey.”
“I don’t care,” I said, voice strained from holding back tears. I hated the way he could do this to me, make me hate him and want him at the same time.
“Can you at least sit up and look at me?”
“No.”
“Please?”
I sat up quickly and glared at him. “What do you want, Nate?”
He licked his lips, his eyes locked with mine. After a moment, he looked away. He could never look me in the eye when he knew he was hurting me. He swallowed loudly, his voice husky when he said, “Bailey, I don’t know what to make of any of this…”
“Any of what?”
“This.” He pointed his finger between us. “You and me.” He paused for a beat, gathering his thoughts. “I question why we’re doing what we’re doing. And as much as I don’t want to, I have to question everything.” His voice shook when he added, “You need to be honest with me, Bailey.”
“I’ve never not been honest with you. I have no reason to lie.”
“Are you using me?” he asked, the huskiness gone and replaced with anger. “Are you with me because you think it’ll weaken me to let you go?”
“No!” I snapped. “Jesus Christ, Nate, what the hell kind of person do you think I am?”
“I think you’re desperate and that you’d—”
“Fuck you!”
“Goddammit, Bailey.” He threw his hands in the air and started pacing. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stop missing you or wanting you, and it’s wrong. Right? To feel that?” But he wasn’t asking me, he was asking himself.
I inhaled sharply, my heart pounding, breaking, healing—all at once.
“It’s like you’ve infiltrated my goddamn mind. I used to be focused. I used to be able to think straight. Whatever the situation, whatever choices I had to make, I could make them. I never second-guessed myself! And then you come along, and you flip my entire world upside down. I don’t know what to do, what to think.” He grasped at his hair and tugged harshly. “I can’t fuckin’ deal, Bailey. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”
“So you’re mad at me? That’s not my fault!”
“I’m not mad at you!” He took a few calming breaths and repeated, “I’m not mad at you. I’m just frustrated.”
“And how do you think I feel, Nate? I’m locked up in here all day, every day. It was bad enough when I was stuck in your house, now I’m confined to your basement. I don’t see the light of day. I’m stuck here with nothing but my thoughts and insecurities haunting me. I don’t know what time it is. I don’t know when you’ll be home or if you’ll be home. I spend all goddamn day worrying about what you’re doing out there, and I have no fuckin’ way to get to you. What would I do if something happened to you?” I took a calming breath. “You’re the only thing I know, Nate.”
“Exactly!” He sighed and squatted in front of me. His voice softened when he said, “I’m all you know, Bai.”
“So what?”
“So what if I spend my days thinking about you? Falling for you? And you give me what I want because I’m all you know?”
“That’s not what I meant,” I whispered, drowning in the clarity of his admission. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you. All I know is that these feelings I have for you… I’ve never felt them before. Not even the slightest. And if I thought I could decipher what love was, then I’d probably tell you that’s what it is. It’s just that I don’t—”
“Bailey…” he interrupted.
“What?”
He leaned forward and linked his fingers with mine. “That’s all,” he said. “That’s everything I wanted to hear.”
I looked up at him, fear and confusion and hurt and every single damn emotion clouding my vision.
He smiled warmly, and then he shrugged. “I guess I don’t know love for me, either.”
My eyebrows pinched. “That doesn’t make sense.”
Shaking his head, he laughed once. “I guess not.”
“Are you saying that you—”
“I don’t know what I’m saying,” he said, cutting me off. “Just kiss me already.”
“But we just had a fight!”
He smirked. “That was a fight?”
“Wasn’t it?”
“We’re probably going to fight a lot…” he said, eyebrows raised. “And it’ll be hard because…” he waved a finger around the room, “…there’s no escaping each other.”
“So what do we do?”
“We end them all like this.” And then he kissed me. Once. Twice. And by the third time, he was in my bed next to me, under the covers, kissing my jaw, my neck, my chest. My fingers found his hair, lacing, and tugging.
“Nate?” I said into his mouth.
He ran his tongue along my lips and responded with an, “uh?”
“Have you ever had sex?”
He choked on a laugh but stopped the instant he looked up and saw the seriousness in my face.
“Well… have you?”
His mouth moved from across my cheek and to the spot right below my ear. “I really don’t want to talk about it while we’re doing this.”
He shrugged. “Just wondering what kind of guys you’re into.”
“I’m not really into any kind of guy…” I said slowly. “Why? What’s this about?”
“Nothing.”
“Nate… what’s going on?”
He tapped my knee twice, but still refused to look at me. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just wondering what’s happening here.”
“Here?”
“Between us, I mean. I don’t really know what to make of it.”
I shrugged, not knowing what to say. I opened my mouth, willing words to leave me. They never did.
“Do you think—” he broke off and released a breath.
I tried to kiss him, but he pulled away.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m just confused, I guess. I’ve had a shitty day, and I need to clear my head, and I need to get out of this fuckin’ room.”
“Okay,” I whispered, trying to hide the hurt in my voice.
He stood up and left, never once looking back, and I returned to the counting, fighting the tears and the voices in my head.
Tiny came down and brought me food. I administered my meds on my own for the first time. And then I got back into bed and embraced the numbness that would help me get through the pain and the heartache that seemed to be my life. *
I sat up when the basement door opened hours later. After a moment, Nate stood over me.
“What are you doing?” he asked casually.
“Trying to sleep.”
“Can we talk?”
My anger flared. I lay back down and flipped to my side, pushing my face into the pillow. “You can do whatever you want. It’s your house.”
He leaned against the wall next to the mattress and rubbed his eyes. “I’m sorry, Bailey.”
“I don’t care,” I said, voice strained from holding back tears. I hated the way he could do this to me, make me hate him and want him at the same time.
“Can you at least sit up and look at me?”
“No.”
“Please?”
I sat up quickly and glared at him. “What do you want, Nate?”
He licked his lips, his eyes locked with mine. After a moment, he looked away. He could never look me in the eye when he knew he was hurting me. He swallowed loudly, his voice husky when he said, “Bailey, I don’t know what to make of any of this…”
“Any of what?”
“This.” He pointed his finger between us. “You and me.” He paused for a beat, gathering his thoughts. “I question why we’re doing what we’re doing. And as much as I don’t want to, I have to question everything.” His voice shook when he added, “You need to be honest with me, Bailey.”
“I’ve never not been honest with you. I have no reason to lie.”
“Are you using me?” he asked, the huskiness gone and replaced with anger. “Are you with me because you think it’ll weaken me to let you go?”
“No!” I snapped. “Jesus Christ, Nate, what the hell kind of person do you think I am?”
“I think you’re desperate and that you’d—”
“Fuck you!”
“Goddammit, Bailey.” He threw his hands in the air and started pacing. “I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stop missing you or wanting you, and it’s wrong. Right? To feel that?” But he wasn’t asking me, he was asking himself.
I inhaled sharply, my heart pounding, breaking, healing—all at once.
“It’s like you’ve infiltrated my goddamn mind. I used to be focused. I used to be able to think straight. Whatever the situation, whatever choices I had to make, I could make them. I never second-guessed myself! And then you come along, and you flip my entire world upside down. I don’t know what to do, what to think.” He grasped at his hair and tugged harshly. “I can’t fuckin’ deal, Bailey. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”
“So you’re mad at me? That’s not my fault!”
“I’m not mad at you!” He took a few calming breaths and repeated, “I’m not mad at you. I’m just frustrated.”
“And how do you think I feel, Nate? I’m locked up in here all day, every day. It was bad enough when I was stuck in your house, now I’m confined to your basement. I don’t see the light of day. I’m stuck here with nothing but my thoughts and insecurities haunting me. I don’t know what time it is. I don’t know when you’ll be home or if you’ll be home. I spend all goddamn day worrying about what you’re doing out there, and I have no fuckin’ way to get to you. What would I do if something happened to you?” I took a calming breath. “You’re the only thing I know, Nate.”
“Exactly!” He sighed and squatted in front of me. His voice softened when he said, “I’m all you know, Bai.”
“So what?”
“So what if I spend my days thinking about you? Falling for you? And you give me what I want because I’m all you know?”
“That’s not what I meant,” I whispered, drowning in the clarity of his admission. “I don’t know what you want me to tell you. All I know is that these feelings I have for you… I’ve never felt them before. Not even the slightest. And if I thought I could decipher what love was, then I’d probably tell you that’s what it is. It’s just that I don’t—”
“Bailey…” he interrupted.
“What?”
He leaned forward and linked his fingers with mine. “That’s all,” he said. “That’s everything I wanted to hear.”
I looked up at him, fear and confusion and hurt and every single damn emotion clouding my vision.
He smiled warmly, and then he shrugged. “I guess I don’t know love for me, either.”
My eyebrows pinched. “That doesn’t make sense.”
Shaking his head, he laughed once. “I guess not.”
“Are you saying that you—”
“I don’t know what I’m saying,” he said, cutting me off. “Just kiss me already.”
“But we just had a fight!”
He smirked. “That was a fight?”
“Wasn’t it?”
“We’re probably going to fight a lot…” he said, eyebrows raised. “And it’ll be hard because…” he waved a finger around the room, “…there’s no escaping each other.”
“So what do we do?”
“We end them all like this.” And then he kissed me. Once. Twice. And by the third time, he was in my bed next to me, under the covers, kissing my jaw, my neck, my chest. My fingers found his hair, lacing, and tugging.
“Nate?” I said into his mouth.
He ran his tongue along my lips and responded with an, “uh?”
“Have you ever had sex?”
He choked on a laugh but stopped the instant he looked up and saw the seriousness in my face.
“Well… have you?”
His mouth moved from across my cheek and to the spot right below my ear. “I really don’t want to talk about it while we’re doing this.”
