Had last night been the same thing? Had he needed the distraction from the pain of his loss and I was in the right place at the right time? I didn't want to believe that X would do something like that, especially since he'd seemed so upset about a simple kiss before. Would he have really used me that way? Then again, if he didn't know how I felt, would it have really been using me? For all I knew, he'd assumed I was upset about what happened with Tanner and we'd been equally eager to forget about a bad night.
I supposed that was the best way things could turn out, with me hiding how I really felt and just going along with whatever excuse X gave. I didn't really want to do that – I wanted him to feel the same way, wanted this to be the beginning of something more than what we had – but I'd accept it if I had to.
The bed dipped and his body heat was gone. I heard him rummaging around in his dresser, then the bedroom door opening. I heard another door closed and assumed he'd gone into the bathroom.
I rolled onto my back, taking the blanket with me to cover myself. I opened my eyes and stared up at the ceiling. I didn't know what to do. Leave now while he was in the bathroom. Go upstairs to my own, take the time to shower and get my head together before coming back downstairs for the inevitable talk.
Or would he come back from the bathroom, see I was gone and assume that I regretted what we'd done? I didn't want to hurt him like that. If there was any chance he felt what I did, I didn't want to risk losing that on a misunderstanding.
So I stayed. I closed my eyes and tried to think of the best way to approach things, all the while keeping my ears straining for any sound of his return. When I finally heard the bathroom door shut, I waited a few seconds and then rolled onto my side to face the door. I opened my eyes so I could see when X walked back in.
When the door opened, I couldn't hide my surprise. I'd assumed when he came out of the bathroom, he'd be in a towel, maybe a pair of shorts. Instead, he was wearing sweatpants and a hoodie. In July. Granted, the air conditioning in the house made it cool enough inside, but it was far from sweatshirt weather. Going on the fact that he had the hood pulled up, I was willing to bet X's attire had little to do with whether or not he was cold.
“X.” I pushed myself up into a sitting position, my arm automatically coming across my breasts to hold up the blanket. I didn't feel like what was coming was something I wanted to face half-naked, especially not when he was completely dressed.
He didn't say anything as he crossed the room. He bent, picking up something from the floor I couldn't see. When he tossed it toward me, I saw that it was my clothes.
“Get dressed.”
I went cold, every inch of me turning to ice. His voice was hard, but not emotionless. I'd heard him shutting down before, giving in to depression. This wasn't what was happening here. He was upset...with me.
“Are you okay?” I hated that question, especially after a death, but I didn't know any other way to put it. I needed to figure out what was going on with him, with us.
“Just get dressed, Nori.” He refused to look at me. “You don't need to pretend you want to stick around now, okay?”
My stomach churned and I felt like I was going to be sick. I didn't make a move to pull on my clothes, but I did get out of bed. I took the blanket with me, holding it with one arm and my clothes with the other.
“What's going on, X?” I could hear my voice shaking slightly, but there wasn't anything I could do to stop it. At least my hands were too full to tremble.
“You got your pity fuck. I don't need you to stick around for some sort of awkward morning-after conversation.”
For a moment, I thought he meant that I'd been his pity fuck, but then my still sleep-muddled brain caught up with the truth. He thought I'd slept with him because I pitied him.
“That's not what–”
“Save it,” he snapped. “I'm not in the mood to deal with any more shit today.”
My heart twisted. I hated that he was doing this, that he was pushing me away, but I understood it.
Sort of.
“If you don't mind, I have a busy day ahead of me. Body to claim. Funeral to plan. All that.”
I almost went to him, reached out to try to touch him. Offer the comfort of a hand or a hug. But he didn't want that. It was clear he didn't want me anywhere near him. I started toward the door, still dragging his blanket with me. Before I went into the hallway, however, I paused.
“I'm here if you need me.” I barely spoke loud enough for him to hear me and then I went.
I left the blanket on the landing and practically ran up the stairs. I slammed the bedroom door behind me, not caring if X heard. The tears that I'd managed to keep back the short distance between his room and mine came out now, running down my cheeks. I bit my lips to keep from making a sound as I dropped my clothes into the hamper and went into the bathroom. Slamming the door made me seem pissed. Crying made me seem upset. I knew which one would make him feel more guilty and I didn't want that. If he despised the thought of my pity, I felt equally as strong about being on the receiving end of something prompted by guilt.
I turned on the shower, making it as hot as it would go. While I waited a couple minutes for it to heat up, I rubbed at my cheeks. I couldn't let myself get too worked up over this. It wasn't a complete surprise anyway. X had been guarded the entire time I'd known him. He'd proven time and again that he hated being vulnerable.
Last night, we'd both been that way, and I didn't like it any more than he did.
I'd opened myself up to him. Trusted him the way I'd only ever trusted one person in my life before him.
I stepped under the spray and closed my eyes, giving myself over to the tears. They weren't all for myself. Some of them were for Father O'Toole. More for X's loss. And that was what made all of this so much worse than just having slept with someone who didn't care about me or a misunderstanding about why we'd had sex. On top of everything else he was dealing with, X was in mourning.
I tried telling myself that as I washed up. Tried reminding myself that there were extenuating circumstances here. That I just needed to be patient. Once things calmed down a bit, we'd be able to talk about what happened. He'd understand that, despite the circumstances, I wasn’t pitying him, that compassion and sympathy were different. That I would've wanted to have sex with him no matter what happened. That I'd wanted him since before he'd kissed me that first time.
Except some part of me had a sinking feeling that we'd lost the only chance we would have.
And that just made me hurt even more.
Chapter Nine
Xavier
I wanted to pace. Throw things. Hit something. Someone. I had too much adrenaline, too much negative energy flooding my system. I felt like I was about to explode.
What happened last night was one of the best things that'd ever happened to me. Coming on the heels of one of the worst, it'd made for a beyond-confusing morning. When I woke up, I had Nori in my arms, and for a few surreal seconds, I thought I'd had some sort of strange waking dream. That there was no way Nori and I had slept together.
Then she'd snuggled closer, pressing her face against my chest, and I'd felt her breath even through my t-shirt. I'd kept it on all night, pulling on a pair of boxers when I'd gotten up at some point. She'd still been naked though, and I'd been able to feel every curve of her delicious body.
Hell, I could almost feel her now.
I clenched my hands into fists and tried not to think about the way she felt last night. The way she tasted. I still heard the sounds she made. Feel the tight heat of being inside her.
It was better than anything I'd ever imagined, and that was saying something.
When I realized our night together hadn't been a dream, my first thought had automatically been to wake her up by exploring every inch of her with my mouth. I'd wanted it – wanted her – so badly that it hurt.
But then all of the doubts started flooding in. Doubts over whether or not I'd taken advantage of Nori's sympathy,
used the father's death to make her more susceptible to what I wanted. Doubts about just how much I'd pushed her.
Doubts about myself, I could've handled, but then came the doubts about Nori, and her reasons. Had she just thought it would be a good way to take my mind off of things?
Or had I just been a pity fuck?
And that was the thought that had gotten me out of bed.
I hadn't been able to look myself in the mirror, and before I returned to the bedroom, I made sure that Nori wasn’t able to look at me either.
When she left – when I finally chased her away – I closed my eyes and let it all come crashing down on me. Father O'Toole dying. Looking at the pill bottle and the tequila, trying to decide what to do.
Nori.
Kissing her.
Making love to her.
And it was that thought that broke me. The l word. I hadn't let myself think it before, but I'd known it for a while.
I'd fallen for her.
And I was scared shitless.
I'd grown up with an abusive asshole of a father. Worked for a drug dealer. Turned on the same dealer. Spent time in juvenile detention. Lost my mother and sister. Nearly been beaten to death. I'd survived tours in some of the most dangerous places on earth. I'd even survived nearly being crushed and burned alive.
But the thought of having to face off with my true feelings for Nori frightened me more than any of those things.
That didn't stop me from being furious with myself for how I'd talked to her. Not that it really surprised me. I'd lashed out at her before when things had gotten confusing for me. I'd never been the nicest guy in the world, but since the accident, I'd pretty much become an asshole with occasional bouts of semi-humanity.
I went over to the bed and sat down on the edge. With a sigh, I flopped back onto the bed.
Shit. My sheets still smelled like her.
I’d have to do a load of laundry before Kipp got here. Technically, Father O'Toole hired Nori to do these chores, but there was no way I could ask her to do that. I was pretty sure she didn't want any reminders of our lone night together. Even if she hadn't pitied me before, there was no way she'd ever forgive me for what I'd said. The best I could hope for would be a return to a tentative employer / employee relationship.
* * *
By the time Kipp arrived, I was hot, uncomfortable, and in an even worse mood than before. Even though I'd managed to avoid Nori for the past couple hours, I'd kept the sweatshirt on. I supposed, in some way, it was a sort of penance I was making myself pay for what I’d done.
Of course, the word penance made me think of the father. He'd never pushed his beliefs on me, but I knew enough to understand some of the practices. The only one that ever really appealed to me was penance. Paying a price for sin before forgiveness or redemption could be offered. And, of course, there were always those sins that couldn't be forgiven. I couldn't remember what those were called, but I was pretty sure at least one of the things I'd done in my life counted, maybe more than one.
Father O'Toole's face flashed in front of my eyes. The loss of him hit me fresh. Even as awkward as it would be to talk about my night with Nori, the father was exactly who I would've gone to about this. I would've wanted to know what he thought about why she'd slept with me. What he thought I should do about the stupid things I'd said.
He would've given me that exasperated look that he always gave me. Called me kid like he always did. Then he would've told me what I should do, what the right words were to fix all of this. He would've told me to go after her, to tell her how I felt. To fight for her.
I wanted to fight for her. That was part of the problem. I'd always been a fighter, even when it was a bad idea. I was pretty sure that's what'd scared the father so badly back in Texas, that I'd given up instead of wanting to fight. And I knew that was the real reason Father O'Toole brought her to Philadelphia.
To give me something to fight for.
Part of me almost felt like I owed it to him to do that.
But I knew I wasn't good for her, and how could I fight when I knew it would hurt the very person I was fighting for?
So the best thing I could do would be to leave her alone.
Even if it was killing me to do it.
I heard the doorbell and considered not even bothering to go down to answer it. Kipp had a key for exactly that reason. By the time I made up my mind to venture down, I heard the door opening and knew he was on his way. I yanked the hoodie over my head and tossed it on the floor. I was already too hot, and I was in no mood to hear Kipp lecture me about the dangers of overheating.
“Good afternoon,” he called out from the landing, his usual way of announcing himself without commenting on the fact that he'd had to use his key.
“I'm in here,” I called back.
“How're you feeling today?” Kipp said cheerfully as he came into the room. He grinned at me.
Sometimes he reminded me of Zed, the way he smiled all the time. At the moment, however, I wasn't exactly feeling friendly toward anyone.
“Let's just get started,” I snapped.
I felt a twinge of guilt at my behavior, but it was immediately drowned out by everything else I was feeling. There was too much going on for me to add one more thing to it.
“Experiencing any pain or soreness?” Kipp went straight into professionalism.
I shook my head. I had to respect him for not telling me to go fuck myself. Then again, in his line of work, I knew I wasn't the only patient with an attitude he dealt with.
“I'm having a shit day,” I admitted. It wasn't Kipp's fault that everything had gone to hell. “I just want to get this over with. I have a funeral to finish planning.”
Kipp's head jerked around, his eyes wide.
Shit. I'd forgotten that he didn't know. I'd made a couple calls earlier, but only to the father's parish. I hadn't even thought to talk to anyone else.
“Father O'Toole died last night.” My voice was gruff and I felt tears in my eyes. I looked up to get them to go away. A little trick I'd learned as a kid trying to avoid getting smacked for crying.
“Shit, X, I'm sorry.” There was no doubting the sincerity in his words. “I'll go.”
“No.” I shook my head. “I need to get my mind off of things.”
He looked at me for a minute and then nodded. “All right. Let's get started.”
It was a relief to start the familiar stretches and feel the pull of skin. I'd actually forgotten that I'd torn some of the scar tissues since I'd last seen Kipp, but he didn't say anything about the new bandages, just glanced at me and then went back to whatever he was doing on the computer. Updating my files, I supposed.
I didn't mind that he wasn't talking, but I didn't really mind when he started either. He talked about Father O'Toole and how the two of them met when the father was looking for a physical therapist to do some pro bono work at a local shelter. I'd never heard the story before, and I realized how very little I actually knew about a man I'd admired so much.
“He was always a great judge of character,” Kipp said, his voice full of admiration as well as sadness. “It was like some sixth sense with him, knowing who he could trust, what he could trust them with. And he always believed the best.”
I nodded in agreement. The father had certainly always believed the best about me, even when his faith was completely unjustified.
“He definitely hit the mark with Nori,” Kipp continued.
My attention shifted and I lost count of how many curls I'd done with my left arm. “What do you mean?”
Kipp either didn't notice how sharp my question had come out, or he didn't care. “She's a remarkable woman.”
No shit.
I went back to my curls, switching to my right arm. I didn't need to hear Kipp telling me things I already knew.
“Is she coming down?” he asked.
“Don't know,” I grunted. I hadn't thought about it. “She might've thought I'd cancel today.”
“Maybe I'll go up and see how she's doing.”
I dropped the weight with a loud clang. Kipp raised an eyebrow.
“You okay?” he asked.
“My fingers slipped,” I lied. I stood and grabbed a towel from the pile. I wiped my face and tried not to let myself think about why Kipp would want to see Nori.
“Has she made a decision about whether or not she's going to stick around?” he asked.
I shrugged. After what happened between the two of us, I doubted she'd stay, but I didn't want to explain any of that to Kipp.
“Do you know if she has a boyfriend back in Texas?”
I clenched my jaw. I really wasn't liking the direction these questions were going. “She had one,” I said. “But they broke up.”
“Family?”
I turned toward him. “Parents.”
“I know she's only been here a couple weeks,” he continued. “But has she met anyone?”
I couldn't stop myself from asking it this time. “Why do you care?”
He shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. “I was thinking I might ask her out for a drink sometime. Welcome her to the city.”
My hands curled into fists. Of course that was why. I'd known it, but I was hoping I was wrong. After how I'd treated Nori, she'd definitely agree to go. Kipp was everything I wasn't. Educated, employed. Kind. Whole.
“What do you think, X?” Kipp asked. “You've spent a lot of time with her. You think I have a chance?”
“How should I know?” I started to wish I hadn't been such a dick the first week or so Kipp had been around, because then maybe he would've noticed that I didn't like this conversation.
Then again, that might've meant he'd want to know why. Again, not something I wanted to talk about.
“Has she said anything about the kind of guy she likes?”
“You think that's something she'd talk about with me?” I was done for the day, I decided. I didn't feel like doing anything more.
“What about anything else?” Kipp asked. “Any inside information to get in good with her?”