Bad Boy Blues, page 33
Sighing sharply, I say, “So what? You’re going to follow me wherever I go?”
“That’s the plan.”
Zach says it so casually that it makes me mad. “It’s a stupid plan.”
“Well, it’s the only one I’ve got.”
“Look —”
“I know how it feels, Blue.” His passionate voice cuts me off. “To be alone in a place, a big, unknown place, where no one knows you. It fucks with your head. It makes you cynical and hard. It makes you think that no matter where you go, who you meet, you’ll always be lonely. It makes you miss home something fierce. It makes you feel like you’ll never find a place where you belong. I’m not gonna let that happen to you. You’re too sweet for that. Too good and shiny. I’m not gonna leave you alone in a world that’s cruel and messed up.”
He’s stopped talking for a few seconds now.
I’ve counted his breaths, the long gulps of them since then. Seven. He’s breathed seven times since he strangled me with his words.
My hands are fisted on my sides, my hair dripping water. I wish I could drip down to the floor like that, like water, and become nothing.
His stare, his words, his smell… him. Everything is too much.
It’s pulling me in, making me feel homesick. Exactly like his words just now.
“I’m not…” I shake my head. “I’m not your responsibility.”
“You’re my life.”
My thighs clench.
My entire body clenches.
In preservation? In love? I don’t know. All I know is that I need to get away from him.
“Yeah?” I swallow my tears. “So you’ll protect me from the world.”
“Yes.”
“But who will protect me from you?”
His reply is a wince and a clamp of his jaw.
Sighing, I leave.
A few minutes later, when I’m settling myself in the bed, I hear a knock; I know it’s him. I don’t open it. I clutch the sheets and stare at the brown, non-descript door.
Minutes pass but the second knock isn’t forthcoming.
Slowly, I get out of the bed and turn the knob. He isn’t there. No one is.
But at my feet is a brown paper bag and inside it, there’s enough Twix to last me for days.
He follows me every day.
Every time I look in the rearview mirror, he’s there.
Ever-present, with his helmet on, his body curled over his bike, making him look so freaking hot and completely masculine.
The first time I pull into a rest stop because I’m nauseated, Zach stops too. He follows me to the ladies’ room and when I come outside feeling a little better but a lot tired, he waits for me with napkins and ginger ale.
“You’re being ridiculous,” I say weakly once I’m done wiping my mouth and sipping on a little bit of the soda.
He studies me with a concerned frown. “I think you need to take it easy today. Find a motel and just rest.”
The sun’s strong and Zach’s directly in front of it, glowing like a star. He’s back into his old clothes, threadbare dark t-shirt and washed-out jeans with gigantic boots.
I squint up at him. “And I think you should be somewhere else. In a different part of the world.”
His lips smile slightly but his eyes remain stoic. “I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”
Frustrated, I thrust the can of ginger ale at his abs, spilling a tiny splash in the process. “Fine. Be that way. In this part of the world, there are no maids.” I gesture at his t-shirt. “You have to clean that up yourself.”
Grabbing the can, he shrugs. “I think I can handle it.”
I think he can.
That’s the problem. He can do anything he puts his mind to.
And right now, it looks like his mind is set on following me.
When I stop to eat, he stops too. When I stop for gas? Yeah, he’s there, as well. When I pull into a motel at night, he’s right behind me.
The farther away we get from Princetown, the colder the temperature gets. The sun is always there but it’s lurking in the background.
Like Zach.
He doesn’t try to talk to me or approach me, except when I’m getting sick at the rest stops. Which seems to have abated altogether.
The smell of my car, the leather seats, the roads. They don’t scare me anymore. I’m back to being myself before my parents died. I think I forced my phobia away.
Or maybe I’m afraid of something else now.
A certain tall, dark and handsome guy who won’t stop following me.
After days of driving aimlessly, I decide to stop at a random place.
It’s called Blue Dot.
Well, it has blue in the name so maybe it’s not random at all.
It’s further up north and it’s located among the mountains. They say it snows there in the winter and the summers aren’t as hot as Princetown.
We reach there a couple of days later. I say we because Zach hasn’t left me yet.
It’s been a little over a week since everything and he’s been there like a shadow.
I don’t trust him. I don’t trust that he won’t get bored and leave after a while.
Why would he stay? He has a life in New York. An apartment, roommates. A job that he likes and is good at.
You’re my life.
I know he said that. I know.
But I can’t believe those words. I can’t. Not after everything he’s done and how callously he rejected my love.
We stop at a diner to eat as soon as we arrive at Blue Dot.
I sit at one end of the bar and he sits on the other. The waitress is young and a chatty one, and she and I strike up a conversation.
When I tell her that I might be staying here for a while, she tells me that they are hiring. She also hooks me up with a bed and breakfast, a couple of blocks down from here.
The town is small, smaller than Princetown, but I like it. It’s cold here. Winter is in full force. There’s wind. Oh, and there’s a lake, too. It’s so blue that I fall in love with it the first moment I see it. Kinda like I fell in love with Zach.
The next day I arrive at the diner at seven and he’s there.
God, doesn’t he sleep? Take a day off or something?
The waitress who told me about this job walks me through everything and tells me which section is going to be mine for that day.
And whaddya know? Zach’s already sitting there.
I walk up to him. “What are you doing here?”
He tips his chin to the menu. “I love the coffee here.”
“You love the coffee.” At his nod, I continue, “You’ve never had coffee here.”
“I had some yesterday.”
“No, you didn’t. You had a hamburger and a slice of pie. I saw it.”
When he smiles, I realize I shouldn’t have said it. It makes me look like a creepy stalker. A stage-five clinger.
He folds his arms on the table and nods. “Yeah, you caught me. I’m just here for the pie.”
I rest a hand on the booth and cock my hip. “Are you going to watch me work all day?”
The rays of sun enlighten his jaw and criss-cross through his hair, making him look so handsome that I have to take a deep breath and compose myself.
Don’t cave, Cleo. Do not cave.
“No. But I can, if you want me to.”
“You know what I want.”
“Well, then I’ll just come back at lunch.”
Sighing, I stand up straight. “So what? Pie. Is that your order?”
“Uh-huh. And a cup of coffee with it.”
I make a show of writing it down on my brand-new pad. “A piece of pie and coffee with a side of spit, coming up.”
As I turn around, I hear him give a chuckle that melts like butter in my bones, and I know I need to be strong.
Much stronger, actually, than I had planned because after that, Zach shows up at seven every morning, orders the same thing and simply watches me bustle around.
It reminds me so much of when he first came back. He’d watch me run to the mansion in the morning or sometimes in the hallways, wearing my uniform.
He’s doing the same thing here.
He watches me work, taking down orders, delivering food, chatting up the customers, all in my uniform of a red t-shirt and a black pair of shorts. And like at The Pleiades, I feel his gaze on me right from when he sits down at the booth until he leaves an hour later.
I hate that he’s doing this.
I hate that he’s making it so difficult to stay away from him.
Every day that passes makes it harder for me to resist him. Resist his intense eyes, his singular focus on me. The things he says even when he’s not talking.
Damn it, I hate his fraught-with-intensity silences.
Sometimes I think I’m being stupid.
I love him, don’t I?
What does it matter if he doesn’t want that? What does it matter if he rejects my love at every turn and hurts me?
I’ll take it.
I’ll take it all if I can just walk up to him and touch those midnight, velvety strands. If I get to hold his hand or caress that hard jaw. If I get to kiss him, smell him, make love to him.
But then, what if he rejects me over and over and over, so many times that I become bitter? That I become angry and hateful. Exactly like I did back at St. Patrick’s.
I can’t do that.
I can’t hate him when I know how it feels to love him.
I can’t let him kill my love.
So I’m going to wait him out. He can’t follow me around forever, right? He can’t come to the diner every day for the rest of his life.
Turns out, I’m right.
After coming every day for about a week, he stops.
One morning, he doesn’t come in. Worriedly, I watch the clock and jump every time the door opens up and a new customer arrives.
Zach never shows up though.
I spend the day alternately worrying over him, thinking that something happened to him, and being angry that he gave up so easily.
Which is just stupid. I wanted him to give up. I wanted him to go away and leave me alone. It’s a good thing.
I can finally start my life now, without the past. Without him.
The next morning when he doesn’t show up again, I decide I’m not even going to watch the door. Nope. I’m not going to act like a junkie, no matter how much I want to. He won’t reduce me to that.
But then, I see him through the window.
He’s on the opposite side of the street, striding down the sidewalk. Hurriedly, I walk to my boss and ask her for a five-minute break, even though I just started. I’m already out the door, pulling on my jacket because Jesus Christ, it’s cold, before she even confirms.
I jaywalk to the other side of the street and follow after him. I don’t know what I’m going to say to him when I catch up, but I have to see where he’s going.
Asshole.
He’s such a fucking asshole, isn’t he? He made me think that he’d wait for me forever. That he wouldn’t budge, no matter how I pushed him away.
But look at him now. Sauntering down the sidewalk as if he has no care in the world.
Okay, so that might be an exaggeration. He isn’t sauntering but lunging, like he’s in a hurry.
Finally, he stops at an autobody shop at the corner of the street.
Panting, I pause too.
That’s when I realize the clothes he’s wearing. A dark gray overall – a uniform.
Why’s he wearing a uniform?
Slowly, I move forward, taking everything in. There’s an office space with a board on top, saying Blue Dot Auto Body Inc. Right next to it is a large shed-like area with a few cars parked inside, along with a couple of bikes.
Zach stops by a guy who’s drinking coffee, as he chats with him. He’s wearing the same uniform as Zach.
Breathing in noisily, I watch them together. Until the guy spies me and alerts Zach of my presence.
He spins around, and immediately there’s a frown on his face. “Blue?” He excuses himself from the guy and walks over to me. “What’re you doing here? Is everything okay?”
There’s a logo on the right side of his chest, spelling the name of the shop. “You didn’t come to the diner.”
“Yeah.” He scratches his forehead with his thumb. “I got held up here all day yesterday. Apparently, they’re slammed. A guy left and they didn’t have back-up.”
I simply blink up at him, at his explanation.
“But I was gonna show up for lunch today,” he finishes, watching me carefully.
“I thought something happened to you. I-I was worried.”
Zach smiles slightly. “I’m fine, Blue. Just working.”
I look at the shop once again. The guy talking to Zach has left. It seems we’re the only two people here right now.
Looking back at him, I ask, “You’re working here?”
He chuckles. “That’s what I said.”
“Why?”
“Well, I figured I’m good with bikes. And they seemed really desperate. So why not. Besides, it comes with an apartment.”
“Apartment?”
“Yeah. Up there, actually.” He tips with his chin and I turn around to see an apartment on the second floor, across the street. There’s a little coffee place downstairs.
“I was thinking,” he goes on and I face him. “You could crash with me. The apartment is plenty big. I could take the couch.”
“You’ll take the couch.”
“Yeah. It’s a futon. It rolls out. It’s gotta be better than the bed and breakfast that you’re staying at and —”
“Stop talking,” I tell him, finally coming out of my stupor.
Zach frowns like he’s so confused.
He’s confused? I am fucking reeling here.
Reeling.
“What are you doing?” I ask with gritted teeth.
“What do you mean?”
“What do you mean, what do I mean?” I say, hysterically. “Did you just ask me to live with you?”
“Well, yes. As I said, the apartment’s got a lot of room.”
“A lot of room. Right.” Shaking my head, I look at the ground and gather myself. “Why do you have a job? Why do you have an apartment?”
“I can’t stay at the motel forever. Where do you suggest I sleep?”
I throw my hands up. “In New York. You have all these things in New York. An apartment. A job that you told me you liked and that you’re good at. Your life’s in New York.”
Throwing me a lopsided smile, he shrugs. “I don’t have anything there that’s not replaceable. And I told you.”
“Told me what?”
The chilly breeze ruffles his spiky hair as he says, “You’re my life.”
His words have more of an impact this time. Maybe because now I can see what he means by it. He’s showing me by re-arranging his life around me.
They hit me right in the gut and the butterflies go crazy. I feel their razor-sharp wings flapping, making everything bleed inside of me.
I wrap my arms around my waist, trying to quiet them down. “Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?”
“Why won’t you leave me alone?”
There’s a slight flush on his harsh cheekbones. I think it’s courtesy of the colder weather here. And he’s not even wearing a sweater.
I don’t know why I’m thinking about that when something much more important is at stake.
“Because I don’t want you to be alone. Or afraid,” he says with a clench in his jaw.
“I am not alone,” I blurt out, looking up at him.
We’ve been standing a few inches apart from each other but while talking, we moved closer. I can feel his body heat, his smell, enveloping me, stopping the shivers brought on by the weather.
“What?”
I lick my lips. “I found a guy.”
“A guy.”
“Yeah.” I nod. “He came to the diner yesterday. Sat in my section. He told me that I was beautiful and when I said that I was new in town, he offered to show me around. So we’re going out this weekend.”
It’s a lie. Obviously.
And even telling it is making me want to throw up but I have to say it.
Zach’s standing here, all taut and flushed with the cold. His black eyes watch me carefully.
“Are you going to ruin my date?” I ask when he doesn’t say anything.
The vein on the side of his neck pulses. “Do you want me to ruin your date?”
I step closer for some reason, bringing the toes of our boots flush together.
“No.” I shake my head once, boring into his eyes. “You want to watch me, right? You won’t leave me alone. So I want you to watch me on my date. I want you to watch me as someone else makes me smile. Makes me laugh. As someone else holds my hand, kisses me goodnight at the end of the night. I want you to watch all of that, Zach.”
His nostrils flare and the color on his sharp cheekbones deepens. I think it’s from anger, rather than the cold.
“That’s what you want, isn’t it? To watch me. That’s why you won’t go away. What do you think is going to happen? Do you think I’ll always be alone?” I scoff, “You’re my first love. Sometimes, I think you’ll be the only love of my life. But that doesn’t mean that it won’t get easier. That I won’t find someone that I’ll want to spend the rest of my life with. I want that, you know. Maybe I won’t love him like I love you. Maybe he won’t make my heart beat faster or he won’t make the butterflies explode in my stomach. But it’s okay. I want a home. I want babies. I want a future, Zach. Maybe it’s okay for you to live in the past but I want to build my life. I want to belong somewhere. To someone.”
To you.
Oh God, how I wish that. How I wish to belong to him. How I wish he belonged to me.
But I guess some stories are just doomed. They don’t have a life, no matter how alive they feel.
Zach swallows and lowers his head. He watches the ground for about five seconds, the longest five seconds of my life.
In those five seconds, I think he gets it. He finally gets what I’m saying.
