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Dirty Cowboy (A Western Romance) (The Maxwell Family) Page 30
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He grinned and kissed me. “You’re welcome. Don’t go anywhere, I’ll be right back.” I watched his cute, naked butt climb out of the bed and disappear into the bathroom. I closed my eyes again. I was exhausted and for the first time in over a week I felt happy. I heard the water in the bathroom running and then I heard a phone buzz. I knew it wasn’t mine; I’d left it in the living room. I opened my eyes and I saw his phone, lit up with a message. I knew I should leave it where it was and just tell him when he got back. I looked at the clock…it was after two a.m. What if it was an emergency? That was how I justified it anyways. I reached over and picked it up. There was a picture of a blonde woman who was probably in her early twenties. She was wearing a slinky bra that looked like it could barely contain her giant boobs and a thong. She was sitting in a chair with her legs spread open and her lips were puckered in a kiss. What the fuck? The name above the picture said, “Ashley.” I pressed on the message and the first thing I saw was a heart. The text said, “I love you. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow night.”
What the hell? She loves him? This son of a bitch has a girlfriend? How fucking dare he take advantage of me when he knew how vulnerable I was over his little sister? Oh my God! That’s disgusting. I suddenly felt like I had a weight on top of my chest and I was about to be sick. I started to sit up out of the bed just as he came back into the room and said, “Where are you going?”
BEST FRIEND’S BROTHER #2
Chapter One
Ian
I was in the bathroom, brushing my teeth and finally feeling like everything in the world didn’t suck. I was riding the high that came from a night with Alexa. It wasn’t just the hot sex…although that was a large factor, it was that I was so comfortable with her and being with her made me happy. My heart still hurt when I thought about poor, sweet Emma, but after being with Alexa tonight I at least felt alive again. Since I got the call about Emma, nothing has felt good…and then again, nothing has really felt bad either. It’s all been just numb and sometimes I think that’s a worse feeling than bad. Tonight I didn’t feel numb, I felt amazing.
When I first met Alexa, I felt a connection to her right then, as soon as I started talking to her at Emma’s funeral. I thought then that it was just about Emma and the fact that we had both loved her so much and we were both grieving. But after tonight, I’m positive there is more to it than that. I’ve been with a lot of women and none of them had made me feel the way she does. She gets me and she has the same feelings that I do about Emma so I don’t have to describe them to her. And then there was the sex…Damn! I’m not usually the kind of guy who seeks out the inexperienced ones and I’ve never really seen the draw in virgins. I never wanted to have to be a teacher in my bed. But with Alexa, although it was clear that she was inexperienced in the sexual acts, the feeling of every one of her touches was so overwhelming that the rest of it was just as powerful.
I finished brushing my teeth and I looked at myself in the mirror. I was actually able to smile and not feel guilty about it. I think Emma would want me to be happy. Most importantly, I think she would appreciate the fact that around Alexa I can be myself. I can be the person that Emma knew. That’s the guy who comes out when Alexa is around. He’s the real me that not many other people know…not even my close friends. I don’t have to worry about what Alexa is thinking of me or this image of being the “tough guy.” I don’t have to stay strong for her the way I do Mom and Dad. She doesn’t need me for that. I can just be me…a guy who just had his heart torn out and finds himself standing and staring numbly in strange places throughout the day, not knowing what to do. I can admit that to her and she completely understands.
I was on cloud nine right up until I came out of the bathroom and found her clutching her clothes to her chest. She must have gotten up and collected them while I was in the bathroom since they’d been scattered from the living room to in here.
“Where are you going?” I asked her. At first I thought I was joking. Surely, she was just going to put on something to wear to bed. It was after two in the morning. She looked at me like a deer in the headlights and I briefly wondered if she was going to sneak out while I was in the bathroom. “Are you leaving?” I asked her, incredulously.
“Yeah, I have a lot to do today.” Today? Does she mean now, at two-fifteen a.m.?
“Oookay….but technically, it’s not even morning yet. Don’t you want to stay just a while longer? I thought you were going to spend the night with me.”
Her voice sounded weird and she had a different look on her face…kind of panicky. I hoped that she wasn’t regretting what we did tonight. I should have thought about the fact that she was younger and not as experienced. I should have questioned more whether or not she was up for this.
“Are you okay, Alexa? I don’t understand.”
She didn’t even look at me as she was pulling on her clothes. I watched her and I wondered if she knew how pretty she was. It would be hard to imagine that she didn’t. My body was responding now just watching her getting dressed. Why was she getting dressed anyways? Weren’t we just cuddling up to fall asleep together? Shit, that felt so good. I just got up to go pee.
“I’m fine. I just have to get going.” She looked like she was a nervous wreck…like the building was on fire, or about to explode. I tried again, “I’m really glad you came over. I had a great time. I was hoping that you could stay a while longer…”
“Yeah, me too, It was nice.” Her voice was like a robot, there was no sincerity in it at all. Did she really not just have the same amazing time that I did?
“Can we get together later maybe? I was just thinking that tonight was the first time since…”
“Maybe yeah,” She didn’t sound like she was even considering it. Could I have misjudged what she was feeling that badly? If I did, wouldn’t she at least tell me she didn’t want it to go beyond this? I would have sworn only ten minutes before that she was feeling the same connection that I was. Hell, she was snuggled up next to me, naked. How else was I supposed to take it? Fuck! All I did was get up to go pee. “I’ll talk to you later, Ian.” She had her clothes half on and she was headed out the bedroom door. What the hell happened while I was in the bathroom? She was tugging her jeans on as she crossed the living room floor.
“Alexa? What the hell is wrong?”
“I said nothing!” she snapped at me. Then she lowered her voice and took a couple of deep breaths. I don’t think they worked because she looked like she was going to cry as she said, “It’s nothing, Ian…really. I’m okay.” Shit! Was she thinking about Emma? Was that it?
“Is it Emma?” I had to ask her that, right? We had both talked about how the grief hit us in waves when we weren’t expecting it. I would just start shaking all over sometimes and start feeling like I needed to throw up and that was how I knew the sadness was coming. Is that what this was? Was this her version of it?
“No, Ian! I’m fine, damn it! I have to go, thank you for dinner and…everything,” she said. She buttoned her jeans and grabbed her purse. She was out the door before I made it across the room. She slammed it behind her. I looked at the clock. It was three o’clock in the morning. Who the hell had “things to do” at three fucking o’clock in the morning. What the fuck just happened?
I went back into the bedroom and collapsed down onto the bed. It was so fucking surreal that literally fifteen minutes ago I was feeling better than I had in weeks…maybe even months and now all of a sudden I’m feeling like shit again. I tried to get comfortable, telling myself to go to sleep and I’d just think about it tomorrow. It was after three o’clock in the morning. I needed to get some sleep. I closed my eyes but all I could see was that look on her face. She looked so…anxious…maybe? I don’t know what the look was, but it wasn’t happy. We should still be lying here together, with her pretty legs draped across mine. I have no idea what the hell I did. I said I had to pee, she giggled and when I went into the bathroom and the light was on, I’d glanced over at he
r. She had snuggled down into the blanket and she had her eyes closed and a smile on her pretty lips. I closed the door and I was gone less than ten minutes. How did I mess this up when I wasn’t even in the room? My head felt like it was going to explode.
I lay there like that for another hour…maybe two before I fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion. I woke up a few hours later, disoriented at first. As usual, I had to remind myself that my little sister was dead. I hated that feeling…it was like someone carved a hole in my chest and just scooped out what was supposed to be in there. Next, I had to remind myself that somehow I’d screwed up things with the only person who made me feel almost whole again. I was used to screwing up, hell; I was good at it even. I could probably win awards for screwing good things up. The difference between this situation and the others was that I could usually look back and figure out where I went wrong. This time, I still had no fucking clue.
I sat up on the edge of the bed and looked around the room. I guess I was hoping for a big sign to appear with an arrow that pointed to whatever had offended her and said, “This is why she left.” No such luck. I walked over and looked out the window. It was a nice day, the sun was shining. That just pissed me off more for some reason. I guess I wanted the weather to be as gloomy as I felt. How fucking dare the sun shine when I was feeling like shit? I guess if it didn’t stop shining when beautiful, perfect Emma died, it wasn’t going to stop shining for me.
I heard my phone buzz then and I turned around and looked for it. It was sitting on the nightstand, up on top. I don’t remember when I put it there. I went over and picked it up. I had a text message from my trainer Dean. I pressed on it and read it. He just wanted to re-schedule our session for later in the day. I also had two others, but from my crazy ex-girlfriend Kristie. She’d been hounding me for months about getting back together. I broke up with her because she beat up another girl that she got some crazy idea about. I told her I wanted nothing to do with her. I told her that I think she is crazy. Yet, she shows up on my doorstep sometimes and knocks on the door and when I answer it she just smiles and acts like things are normal and she’s not living in bizarro land. Sometimes when I leave the gym I find her waiting by my car. I’ve told her each time to go away and leave me alone, but nothing seems to penetrate. Emma used to even tell me that she worried she was the creepy stalker type and I might come home one night to boiled bunny on the stove.
The messages she had left there today were more of the same old crap. They said things like: “I love you, I miss you, and I can’t wait to see you.” The girl needs medication, seriously. I started to sit the phone back down when I realized that there were two other messages from her from last night. I looked closer and saw they had been sent in the dead of the night. I had been with Alexa. I know that I didn’t read those, but then how was it that they’d already been read? I checked the time on them…they came in one minute apart from each other, two a.m. and two o’ one a.m. Fuck! I think I just solved the mystery of why Alexa left like she did. She thought I had her over here, naked in my bed while I had a girlfriend waiting for me somewhere else. I can be an asshole if the situation calls for it, but I’d never cheated on a girl…and I’ve never taken advantage of one. Shit! That’s what she thinks. It made me sick to my stomach just thinking about it, but she thinks I took advantage of my own sister’s death to get a piece of ass. No wonder she couldn’t wait to get the hell out of here! Damn it! I wish she would have just asked me. I could have shown her the other messages and told her what a crazy person Kristie is.
I got pissed then and I sent Kristie a text that said, “Stop texting me! We have nothing to say to each other! If you don’t stop, I’m going to get a fucking restraining order you crazy…” I left that part blank, she could fill it in. Then I sat there staring at the phone, wondering if I should call Alexa and explain. I wondered if she would believe me if I did.
Chapter Two
Alexa
I went home that night after reading Ian’s text messages and went to bed. I stayed there most of the next day, watching sappy love stories on the Hallmark channel and bawling my eyes out. I’m not sure what I was crying over. Was it the movie? Was it Emma? Was it Ian? I had no idea. I just knew I needed to cry. My poor dad kept looking in on me and asking if I was okay. I think he just assumed it was Emma I was crying over and that was okay too. I finally got up that next evening and found my father in the kitchen. He had all the ingredients out to make a meatloaf. He was reading a recipe and he looked distressed.
“You want to order a pizza?” I asked him. He looked relieved and said, “Yes, please.”
I called in the order and when it got there, we ate and watched television. Half-way through the movie my dad said, “Are you doing okay…really?”
I finished chewing the last of my second piece of pizza and took a big gulp of water. “I am doing okay,” I told him. “I’m not great or fantastic or even awesome…but I’m okay.
“It will get easier…with time,” he said. That was hard for me to imagine. I had two holes in my heart now, one from the loss of Emma and one that Ian had punched in there right next to it. I knew none of that was Dad’s fault though and he worried too much about me already, especially since Emma died.
“I know Dad,” I lied. “Things are getting better already.”
*****
Two miserably long days after I skulked out of Ian’s apartment, feeling like a fool, I woke up with the same two thoughts in my head I have every day now. First, my best friend is dead. I let that wash over me like it does every day and I lay still until the pain that comes with it and radiates through me stops throbbing. When that was over, I remembered that Ian made a fool out of me. I really wish that I could stop thinking about him. Instead of just thinking of my best friend who I would never see again…now I had to also keep trying to get my mind off of her stupid, cheating brother. I’m so stupid. How the hell could I look at Ian and not even consider whether or not he had a girlfriend? He was gorgeous and sexy and he seemed so nice. He was funny and fun to talk to because he was smart. Only an idiot wouldn’t think a guy like that wouldn’t have a girlfriend. He probably has two or three of them…he probably collects them and he wanted to make me one of his harem girls.
Shit! I need to just get him off my mind. I’m sure that I was off of his as soon as I walked out the door the other night. Unless he’s pretty proud of himself for getting the girl with the messed up head to have wild sex with him…no strings attached. I thought about the text message that said, “I can’t wait to see you,” and I wondered if he was with her right now. I wondered what she looked like…and then I remembered her hooch picture on his phone. I wondered if that was why he was with her, or if he really loved her…Then, I realized again what I was doing to myself. I said out loud, “Oh my God, Alexa! Knock it off! He’s a cheater. Why would you want him? If he would cheat on her, he would cheat on you. Once a cheater, always a cheater!” He’s a slime-ball and it doesn’t matter if he was Emma’s brother or not. Being my sweet friend’s brother didn’t make him a saint. I already knew that he wasn’t a saint anyways. He definitely had issues that I’d managed quite nicely to overlook. He stopped going to school his sophomore year. Emma wouldn’t talk about it, but I knew that her parents were torn up over it and it had all trickled down onto poor Emma. Things were tough in their house because of him and she always wanted to stay over with me. She said they were fighting all the time…Ian and her parents. Yes, I knew then that he was no saint. I don’t know why now that Emma died, I thought it would be any different. People don’t really ever change, and I should have never slept with him. I can guarantee him it is never going to happen again. I am thoroughly disgusted not only with him, but with myself. It doesn’t matter how much it made me forget for that moment that my best friend was dead. I was nobody’s booty call and I never would be.
These thoughts weren’t helping anything. I finally pulled myself up out of bed. Before I went to bed last night, Dad had asked me to go
out for breakfast with him at some new coffee house or café that he was in love with. It would get me out of this house and I think I needed that. I pulled my underwear out of the dresser and then went over to the closet and picked out my clothes for the day. I carried them into the bathroom and as soon as I got in there, I heard my phone buzz. I went back into the bedroom and looked at it. It was two or three text messages from Ian. I ignored them and went back into the bathroom. I took a long, hot shower and when I got out, I actually felt human again. I could do this, all of it. I was strong enough to handle things on my own. Screw Ian. That big talk and bravado lasted all of five full minutes.
After I dressed and fixed my hair I found my dad on the patio having coffee.
“Morning dad, are we still on for breakfast?”
“Absolutely if you still feel like going with me.” he said.
“I feel like it,” I told him with a smile. “I’m ready when you are.”
Dad drove and the ride there was mostly silent. My dad was not big on small talk. He could talk for hours on a subject that interested him or provoked a passion in him, but he didn’t like talk for the sake of talking. I was glad, because I wasn’t really in the mood for chit chat.
The café he took us to was like a little deli, situated right next to the train station and bus depot so it was busy with a lot of commuters coming in and out. The company that my dad works for supplies restaurant equipment so every time they get a new client, me and Dad have to try the place out and critique it. This place looked nice on first glance. The outside was made out of the shell of an old rail car that had been refurbished and painted a bright red. Inside, the floor was white and black checkered tile and the tables were the black wrought iron ones with the Formica tops that you see in IKEA catalogs. There were black and red vinyl stools at the bar like the cafés of the old days and there were prints on the walls that depicted all of the places a person could travel to and I found myself staring at one with the Eiffel tower in the background and suddenly wishing I was there…far away from the looks of pity my father gave me every time he looked at me, and far away from Ian so no matter how tempted I was to see him, it would be impossible.