Page 30 of Beyond Me

“I don’t know either.Just don’t leave me.”

I fell asleep before I could answer.

Wednesday

WHAT THEhell had I done?

I sipped a cup of scalding black coffee and thought about last night.The brew burned my tongue, but I hung on to the brief pain to try and reach sanity.With a few uttered words, I opened myself up for a mess of complications.

Just don’t leave me.

The phrase haunted me, way after she fell asleep, until I could only hold her, stare at the ceiling, and wonder how it happened.How did sex get turned around so quickly?I was the master at compartmentalizing physical and emotional demands, but after two lousy days, I was hooked on Quinn Harmon.Her body was like crack, but her smile and intelligence and kindness wrecked my defenses to rubble and left me bleeding.She was everything I dreamed about in a woman, and for these few days, she belonged to me.

Until she left me behind and returned to her life in Chicago.

I took another sip and leaned against the granite island.She’d go back to her real life and forget about me.Maybe share a few stories with her friends, laugh about the great time she had, and concentrate on finding a guy more like herself.Someone with morals, and a real job, and a family.Not a whiny, isolated rich kid who did nothing with his life.

She’d find someone she deserved.

Misery festered like a blister.What did I want out of my life?I hated banking, the law, and medicine.I hated the crap involved in the upper crust society circles I ran with, because I’d never known anything else.Sure, I travelled, but even then I felt as if I was playing at something, trying to show my parentsSEE ME!LOVE ME!They never did, and I needed to let it go.But if I was going to try and be more, I had to start somewhere.

My fingers itched for a paintbrush or charcoal pencil.Whenever my thoughts skidded out of control, I found my peace in elegant lines, brilliant color, sharp edges.The play of light fascinated me, allowing me to study it for hours and try to reflect it in my work.It was one of the only times I reached peace, allowing another self to surface, one I actually felt proud of.

But what could I do with it?I’d never be good enough for art school.I had no formal training, and all the years of hiding my work from my dad’s skeptical opinion and my friends’ humoring of my hobby had taken its toll.

I was a pussy.Afraid to go for anything that may be worthwhile.Afraid of...everything.

“Morning.”

I jerked and some coffee sloshed over the rim.She stood in the archway, wearing one of my shirts that hung just past her knees.Bare legs and feet, hair messed and tangled, head ducked a bit in a gesture of shyness, my throat closed up and I could only stare.She was so fucking sweet and beautiful.My dick jumped to attention and I fought the urge to drag her onto the table and shove myself between her legs.The other part wanted to pick her up, kiss her tenderly, and protect her forever.I ended up staying put so I didn’t freak her out.

“Did I wake you up?I wanted you to sleep in today.”

She shook her head and shifted her weight.Those pink toenails jumped out at me.She had such a naughty, dark side mixed with the good girl image I was crazy about.How had the guys ever pegged her a snob or cold fish?“No.I looked for you and you weren’t there.And I smelled coffee.”

I smiled.“I’ll get you a cup.Take a seat.”I motioned to the stool and she slid into the high red leather, hooking her feet over the rung.“Milk?Sugar?”

“Just milk, please.”

I fixed her coffee and watched her drink it.Her face softened into pleasure, almost the same expression when she began to relax under my touch.I gripped the counter and wondered how every move she made both fascinated me and turned me on.“Good?”

“Yes.I like it strong.”

We drank our coffee in companionable silence.I waited for questions about last night, or a long conversation regarding emotions, expectations, or fears, but she never said a word.“Are you hungry?”

She scrunched up her nose.“Can you cook?”

I laughed.“A little.I have a housekeeper for this place ’cause I hate cleaning, but I don’t mind fooling around in the kitchen.How about an omelet?”

“Sounds good.Thanks.”

I began preparing, grabbing some ham, cheese, milk, and eggs.I couldn’t remember the last time I cooked for a woman staying over.It was intimate, and I liked serving her.“Are your friends good with us spending the day together again?”

“Yeah, I’ll check in with them later to make sure they’re okay, but we kind of planned to be separate for this trip.”

“How come?Usually girls flock together and stay that way.”

Uneasiness flickered over her face.I paused in the act of mixing the ingredients and waited for her answer.“Umm, well, Mackenzie proclaimed we all needed to hook up this week, so we weren’t allowed to see each other.”