Wide Open

  She smiled and tilted her head. "Water under the bridge."

  "I can't believe Mason's going to have a son…and I'm going to miss all of it."

  "You don't have to." The sympathy poured off her. "I don't know where you are or what you're doing for a living or anything, but…we just want to see you—Mason just wants to see you. He thought something awful happened and it was his fault because we…came for you that night."

  She barely caught the sob in her throat. I swallowed. I couldn't even tell if I still hated Mason. My brain wouldn't even process that thought.

  "I had to get out. I met some great people and they helped me. I'm doing good. Tell Mason he doesn't have to worry about me anymore."

  She gave me a wry look. "You know better than that. He loves you. He'll never stop trying to make up for everything, whether you're fine where you are, he'll never stop looking for you. In his own way, he'll always be looking for you."

  I looked at her hands, the way they twitched and wrung like she wanted to snatch me up and drag me home with her.

  "Yeah," I muttered distractedly. "I've gotta go, Emma. I can't stay in town too long."

  "You went and saw Mamma, didn't you." It wasn't a question. I swung my head up at the fact that she called her Mamma, too.

  "I did," I confessed and couldn't stop the smile. "She's doing really well it seems." I sighed and shuffled my feet. "I'll come back to see her soon."

  She leaned forward slowly and put her arms around my neck as much as she could with her belly in between us. "Thank you. They miss you."

  I held my sandwich in my hand, but managed to get an arm around her. I didn't say I missed them, however. I was barely hanging on. I'd done it, the first step was done, but I wasn't ready to jump back in head first. "Thanks, Emma." I pulled back and look at her. "For taking care of them for me."

  She nodded and knew this was it. "Please call or text. Anytime. I won't make you talk to Mason if you don't want to. Just let us know you're okay."

  "Yeah," I agreed and smiled down at her. "I definitely want to come see my nephew."

  "Please," she said again and turned slowly. She paid for her things and waved to me before she walked out. I could tell she didn't want to, but she also didn't want to scare me off.

  As soon as I paid for my stuff and got in the Jeep, I pulled out my cell and put her number in. Then I did something. I took another step. I texted her…knowing that by doing so she'd have my number.

  Tell Mason that I'm doing all right.

  The drive back was both easy and hard. I wished I could change things. I wished things could be different, but I couldn't change my past or the things I did. There was no choice but to pay for them.

  I thought of that man telling an entire roomful of people about how he thought his brother had hated him all those years for the crap he'd put him through. How he knew his mother and father were so disappointed that there was no way to come back from that. But when he'd finally made the plunge and went home, they all just missed him. They just wanted him back.

  I wondered if my reunion with Mom would have been different if her memories had been intact. I couldn't think about that though. I couldn't go back to being scared. It was time to take responsibility and take my life back.

  If I wanted any shot at a real future, the past had to be put to rest.

  I stayed busy the rest of the week, anticipating and dreading the meeting. I knew I'd see Maya and though I barely knew her, she had already made a huge impact in my life. She was an off-kilter puzzle piece and showed me a few more that weren't in place either that I needed to fix. Mamma was just the beginning.

  It's funny that you know the things you need to do and that have to happen, yet it's so hard to take that first step. But once you do, even though you know it's going to be hard, you don't want to stop. The needed momentum keeps pushing you toward the prize, and you let it because you know that as hard as this hurts, you can never go back.

  You can never be the person who just exists for the sake of existing anymore, you have to be that person who lives.

  My boss asked me why I was so smiley all week. Other than seeing my mom, the one woman in the world who loved me no matter what, I didn't know. Except for the fact that I knew and simultaneously hoped that things were about to change.

  My smiley demeanor took a nosedive, however, when the time came for the meeting. I wanted Maya to do what she felt was best for her. If she didn't want to see me at all, honestly, I would leave her be, though that was the furthest thing from what I wanted.

  I told her I'd chase her, but that was before she saw how pathetic and sad I was—a guy who couldn't even sit in on a meeting where people talk about their feelings without getting up and leaving. Twice.

  I rubbed my head as I made my way inside. I had worked out a lot more than usual, trying to keep myself busy, and my arms ached in a good way from it.

  Even as I made steps in the right direction, I still felt like I was falling behind.

  I held my breath as I opened the door, and there she was. She was turned with her back to me as she looked out at the roomful of people. She was wearing a blue dress, short and sleeveless. She must have been wearing heels the last few times because with her little black flat ballet looking shoes on, she was a lot shorter than usual. And then I scolded myself for missing what those legs must have looked like with heels on.

  I knew then that the chase was back on. The feeling of being alive—she gave that to me, and there was no way in hell that I was letting that go. Not now when I was on the edge of something epic changing for me.

  I stuffed my hands into my pockets to contain them and tried to look normal, natural, as I made my way to her. Someone was wrapping their coat around herself as she exited and bumped into me with her elbow.

  "Sorry," we spouted at the same time.

  I knew Maya heard my voice because at the sound of it, her entire body straightened. She turned quickly, her shiny lips parted, her eyes wide and rimmed with sparkly make-up.

  "Milo," she breathed, and her little hand made a fist. "Where have you been? I went by your place."

  "I had some things I had to do—back home." I took another step closer, bringing us about five feet apart. "How, uh…how's the truck? Everything running—"

  I barely saw her move as she pushed my stomach, forcing me to retreat against the alcove in the foyer that led to somewhere I didn't know. I felt her hand on the back of my neck as she pulled me down and her warm breath on my lips before she touched me. It took a second to respond because I was caught so off guard. What the hell was she kissing me for? I had acted like such an ass.

  The suction her mouth made had me swaying as reality crashed back into me. Good night, she was kissing me. And she was being thorough.

  The hand on my neck loosened, and I knew I'd waited too long to respond. When her hand slipped down to my shoulder, I stopped her and put it back on my neck where it belonged. I wrapped my arm around her waist, my hand coming up to hold her face. Her skin was softer than I imagined it would be. When I kissed her back, she made this long drawn-out moan under our breaths and went back down flat on her feet. She'd been on her tiptoes the whole time. I tugged her back up with my arm around her waist and held her there. Our breaths panted against each other's, and for a second I had a flash of another time when I'd been with a girl. It had been so long ago. I never kissed them. It felt like I was taking something from them when I kissed them. Their body was one thing, but their lips were sacred. In truth, I'd only ever kissed two girls my entire life.

  And one of them was kissing me now.

  The other was the very first girl, my first everything. She was my girlfriend in high school, when we both were so young. She tried so hard to help me, fix me, be the one to save me. But when it all slid downhill for me, she bailed. With good reason.

  She was too sweet, too innocent, not ready to deal with the emotional bags that I brought with me everywhere I went. I didn't blame her. In fact, I looked back a
t her and that whole relationship—my only relationship—with fondness. She was there for me when the accident happened. She helped me through that in some ways. I would always be grateful to her for trying.

  I changed things up, turning us so that Maya was pressed to the wall instead. I let my elbow rest on the wall by her head and didn't mind that I had to bend to reach. That mouth was worth any kink I'd have in the morning.

  She let her hand slide from my neck, but she fisted the fabric of the front of my shirt. She broke away with a breath and looked up at me. It looked like she was on the verge of tears, but she was smiling.

  And heaven help me, it was absolutely beautiful.

  She spoke softly. "You have no idea what you've done for me. You just have no idea."

  I chuckled. "It's just a few truck parts. No biggie."

  "It was a huge biggie," she insisted in a whisper and put her arms around my waist. I felt her exhale, like a thousand pounds had been lifted from her. "You saved my brother's life."

  My brow creased as I rubbed my hands down her back. "What was that, sweetheart?"

  "Maya," someone called. We looked over to see an older woman holding a cup of coffee and looking perturbed yet irritated. "It's time. It's starting."

  Maya looked up at me and licked only her bottom lip. I felt a small rumble go through me. What the hell was wrong with me?

  "I have to go," she said and smiled beautifully. "Please come and listen?"

  I nodded. "That's why I'm here. To stay."

  In truth, I had decided I needed to be the one up at that podium one day, but for now, I needed to make myself commit. No more back row for me.

  I was done with being a coward.

  She smiled small as she walked away with the other woman. I went and sat right smack in the middle of the room—addicts surrounding me at three hundred sixty degrees. I took a deep breath, preparing myself for whatever I was about to hear. I felt this little push to go up there, for me to be the one to tell all today, but I wasn't ready. Not quite.

  I looked up to find Maya at the podium. She was twirling a coin in her fingers, that loving, possessive look in her eyes like before. It was a coin. I lifted my eyes to find her gaze on me. She smiled and licked her bottom lip before closing her eyes and opening just as she began to speak.

  "When I look at this coin, I see a completely different life, the one I could have lived, the one I was saved from by someone who loved me enough to come and find me, be the bad guy that I needed him to be." She lifted it, though it was too small to see the numbers. "I got my four-year coin today." The room around me erupted with applause and she tried to hide her tears, but finally just smiled through them. I couldn't even clap I was so in awe of her. This seemingly simple thing was so indescribably beautiful as I watched her be embarrassed and try to finish her story. The way she tugged at her earrings while looking at the floor, the light in her eyes as she spoke of her brother and father, the sadness that overcame her as she talked about her father dying and how much she wanted to get high, but her brother watched over her, and she somehow made it through without breaking her clean streak. All of it played out across her face and movements, and I'd never been so enthralled, never seen anything so beautiful.

  She told us everything. When she was done, the hour was up and everyone clapped and went up to congratulate her.

  But I held back. I wanted her to have this time to be the center, to soak up the much-deserved congratulations. I went to the front steps and sat. So many things weighed on me. I knew by then that Mason knew I had stopped by and Emma had told him I saw her at the store.

  I watched several people go and even more come for another meeting. My peace was weird. I hadn't felt peace of any kind in so long that it almost felt uncomfortable.

  "Are you waiting for a cab or for me?" I heard.

  I turned to Maya and let my grin show. "Definitely not a cab." I stood and brushed off the back of my jeans. "You see, I'm a mechanic, ma'am," I said in my best Southern gentleman voice. She giggled. "I know how to fix things. My Jeep runs just fine."

  "Good to know. You know, this guy fixed my truck for me," she took slow steps toward me, "and left me a note to explain before going incognito for six whole days."

  "Pfft. That guy," I shook my head, "is obviously a tool."

  "He's a crafty, sweet, son of a gun, and a pain in the butt."

  I laughed. "All that?"

  "All that," she confirmed and made the last step. She looked up at me. "Thank you. You didn't have to."

  "I wanted to." My fingers reached out and barely gripped and grazed the ends of hers. "I was being a coward. I took it out on you."

  "You're not the first person to take it out on me and you won't be the last. I'm a counselor, remember?"

  "But I'm not one of your callers," I corrected. "And you're the girl I'm chasing."

  She smiled wider. "You're not going to let that go, are you?"

  I chuckled. "After that kiss?" She blushed a little, her neck turning pink. "No, I won't be letting go after that."

  "I sort of attacked you, huh?" she laughed out breathily.

  "Sort of?" I stepped half a step closer, barely a sliver between us. "That was…"

  "Scary?" she supplied with a little laugh under her breath.

  "Awesome," I countered and lifted her fingers in mine, toying with them between us.

  "You deserved it," she said breathlessly, looking at our fingers together. "I would never have been able to get it fixed otherwise. And my brother—we had an emergency this week, and if you hadn't fixed my truck—"

  "What happened?" The words jumped from me, concern etching my forehead. "Did something happen to you?"

  "Everything's fine. It was him, not me. But he's fine now, so thank you. Your timing was amazing."

  "Don't worry about it. I wanted to. You can make it up to me though." I smirked. "What time should I pick you up tomorrow?"

  "For…a date?" She may have been trying to look serious, but a smile sat in the corner of her mouth.

  I didn't answer. She knew exactly what I meant. I grinned down at her, making her squirm. She wasn't getting off easy. She tilted her head to the side and then said, "Okay. You can pick me up at six."

  "Great." I felt her closed fist in my hand. "Will you show it to me?"

  She squinted in confusion, but I gently squeezed her hand to tell her. She slowly opened her hand to reveal the coin. I lifted it reverently in my fingers, and prayed and hoped and begged that one day I would have one with that many years on it, too.

  "It's beautiful, isn't it?" she whispered, a tear running from the corner of her eye like it was finally free. "That stupid, ugly coin is really beautiful."

  I wiped it from her cheek with my thumb. Holding her face, I moved and put my lips to her forehead. The way she gripped me around my waist so tight made me think she hadn't had someone hold her in a long time. Maybe ever. And this girl needed to be held. She deserved to be absolutely adored.

  When the door opened behind us, it had been so quiet and still that we both jumped at the sudden noise. She giggled and leaned back. "Thanks. Um…"

  She smiled and seemed as unsure about all this as I was. "Yeah, um," I joked.

  She licked her bottom lip as she smiled. "I better go. I'll see you tomorrow?"

  My eyebrow rose. "You think I'm going to stand you up?"

  "No," she shook her head and walked backward to the doors, "just checking."

  "Nothing could stop me," I heard myself say. I scoffed at how easily I turned into mush around her.

  Her smile was gorgeous as she went back inside. I turned and raised my fist in the air in triumph, closing my eyes. That girl was going to be mine. I know I didn’t deserve her, but I couldn't stop chasing her.

  I opened my eyes, the smile a mile wide on my face, and quickly put my arm down at the sight of her friend—the one with the coffee cup still attached to her hand. She gave me a solid glare. "If you hurt her, I'll end you, hotshot."

  Hot
shot? "Yes, ma'am." I nodded and cleared my throat. "I won't."

  "Good." She smacked my chest with the back of her hand when she passed me. She stopped. "Holy cow." She gripped my arm. "What do you have in here? Rocks?"

  I chuckled. "No, ma'am. It's a good way to keep idle hands busy."

  She looked at me closely, her eyes squinting a little. "You're going to be good for her. I can tell."

  "Well…thanks?"

  She laughed and started to walk through the doors. She turned back and smiled. "Hotshot?"

  "That's me," I joked.

  "She's going to be good for you, too."

  I nodded and watched her leave. Of that I had no doubt.

  The next day at work was the only day it seemed to drag on. Most of the time I was perfectly content to stay busy and do what needed to be done, but that day was brutal as it crept smugly by. It must have wanted to torture me.

  My boss knew it was about a girl. He said I was mopey, whatever that meant. I wasn't mopey. I was anxious and excited and couldn't wait to have my mouth on hers again. That wasn't mopey, but I'm not sure what you would call it.

  When I finally was able to go home and get a shower, I put on some dark jeans and threw on my black leather jacket. The nights were cold. It was almost time for the snow again and the top would have to go back on my Jeep.

  I rubbed my hands together when I went outside. It was colder than I thought. I had called the center that morning and gotten Maya on the first ring. She gave me her address and her cell number, since we'd forgotten to do all that the night before.

  When I pulled up, I parked on the street because the driveway to the duplex apartment was full. I got out and saw Maya in the doorway as I was coming up.

  I stopped.

  Maya was standing in the doorway, looking absolutely gorgeous in black tights and a dress with a flowy jacket thing. But she wasn't alone, and her arms were wrapped tightly around some other guy's neck.

  Maya

  "I'll be fine. I always am," he insisted.