Chapter 7

When you're overwhelmed and you've lost your breath
When the space between the things you know is blurry nonetheless.
When you try to speak but you make no sound
And the words you want are out of reach but they've never been so loud

If your heart wears thin I will hold you up
And I will hide you when it gets too much
I'll be right beside you
I am right be right beside you

I will stay.
Nobody will break you.

Trust in me, trust in me.
Don't pull away
Trust in me, trust in me.
I'm just trying to keep this together, because I could do worse and you could do better

(Lyrics from ‘Beside You’ by Marianas Trench)

The living room was not a part of the house Mike had had much use for. In fact he treated his house in Calgary a lot like a hotel or, as his mother called it, a frat house. Friends came to stay but most of the activities he preferred in the summer months were outdoor pursuits. The result was that other than the bedrooms and bathrooms, most of this house had a distinctly un-lived in look and the fireplace had never, ever been used even though there had been a pile of wood and newspaper sitting in it since the day he’d moved in. Still, Mike thought as he checked that the chimney flue was open, this was better than staying in the bedroom. If they’d stayed there, no matter how much he tried to be a good guy, he wasn’t going to be able to lie there next to a very beautiful and very naked girl and listen to her talk and actually hear anything she said. 

She, Chelsea, was sitting wrapped in a sheet from the bed on top of the quilt he’d dragged out here. He glanced at her now but she was still as silent as she’d been when he’d rolled off of her and suggested they take a break. That alone, he thought, should earn him a major amount of brownie points. He could think of a few guys, like Ovie and probably Brooks who would have powered through and worried about her feelings afterwards. Fucking Chelsea after she’d left the room mentally didn’t strike Mike as the kind of thing he felt comfortable doing, which is how they’d ended up in the living room. 

Mike poked at the logs as the paper under them began to burn. God knows it was warm enough that he didn’t need a fire but right at this moment, he was glad to have something to do with his hands. What he wanted to do was shake her. No, what he wanted to do was ask her what the deal was with her and that leggy cowboy, who, Mike figured had to be a good ten years her senior and if she was engaged what was she doing in his bed? 

The guy obviously made her unhappy, Mike had decided as he poked a log further into the flames, imagining it was the tall blonde with the high cheekbones. He had the overwhelming urge to ask her if she loved the guy but when he opened his mouth to give voice to the question, a strange sensation in his chest stopped him. He put his hand over his heart and grimaced. 

“What the fu....?”

“I just always thought I would, y’know?” she began, her voice muffled. He turned to look at her, at the way her chin rested on the tops of her knees as she hugged them to her chest. She glanced up at him and the barest shadow of a smile flitted across her features. “Since I was a teenager I’ve been planning my wedding, like girls do,” she added with shy smile and a shrug, “and it’s always been with him. But I now...I don’t know,” she said wistfully, her jaw working as if she were chewing on the thought. She was probably grinding her teeth, Mike knew he was.

“Can I ask a question?” He poked at the logs, not because the fire needed it but because it felt like he had to do something with his hands other than touch her, which is what he really wanted to do. She didn’t answer but he took her silence for agreement and ploughed ahead. “What’s so special about the guy anyway?” It wasn’t exactly the question he wanted to ask but it was close, as close as he could give voice too without that constriction in his chest starting up.

“Jimmy?” It sounded like she smiled when she said his name. Mike didn’t look back to see if he was right. He didn’t want to be right. “Oh...lots of things,” she replied softly. His fingers tightened around the wrought iron bar. “Less than I used to think though,” she added and this time Mike did turn to see a rueful smile tugging at the corners of her full mouth that was still swollen from his kisses. Her emerald green eyes met his just for a moment and then she was back to staring at her toes, which she wiggled as she rocked in place. “It’s just…I don’t know, I guess it’s kinda hard to explain.” 

The part of Mike’s brain that made decisions out on the ice, that was trained to assess the whole ice surface and to weigh carefully the pros and cons of every choice before committing to an action knew that asking any more questions was only picking at an open wound told him that she’d just blocked the passing lane. The kid that still lived inside of him that liked to race around, was still impressed by his slap shot and sometimes made dumb decisions decided that he could still make the pass. The man inside of him that was just beginning to realize that he wanted this woman for himself decided that even if the chances were slim, he had to try. 

“So…are you in love with the guy or what?” He looked over at her, at the way her nearly crimson curls turned copper by the light of the flames and her jade green eyes flashed when she looked up at him. He held his breath. 

“I used to think so. Right now…I’m not so sure.”

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‘What am I doing?’ she asked herself as she watched the man sitting a little too near the fire fight the urge to jump her right there and then.  She could see it in the way he had suddenly gone very still, his entire body as tense as a bow string pulled taught right before it’s fired and the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he stared at her as if she had just turned into a big juicy t-bone steak right off the grill.  

‘I shouldn’t’, she told herself the same way that you do when you drool over a piece of chocolate cake you know that you shouldn’t have, but want all the more because it’s forbidden. He was like that, like breaking a diet and indulging in the richest, the most calorie laden and most addictive desert and sneaking off with it to your room so as not to share it with anyone.  

But being taboo wasn’t the only reason that had Chelsea’s blood growing distinctly warmer by the minute. 

Being with him was also like being a completely different person. A person, she had very suddenly realized that she actually wanted to be. It was like CeeCee was this little girl who had sugar plum fairy dreams about marriage and forever, about wedding dresses that looked like overgrown meringues and who followed Jimmy around like an obedient puppy. She wanted to be the Chelsea she was when she was with this man, a woman who made her own decisions and didn’t worry about what other people thought or wanted. She liked how it felt to be this woman and not just for one night.

‘You’re going to regret it’, she warned herself as she got up, the sheet she’d stripped off of his bed that held the warm musky scent of ‘boy’ still wrapped around her, and crossed the imaginary line that he was being so careful not to. Opening the sheet she enveloped him with it as she straddled his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“You sure you want to do this?” he asked, his voice already made husky by desire, his pupils large and dark. She watched his tongue sweep out and wet his full lower lip. She stared at his mouth and nodded. “But what about…?” she didn’t let him finish the question, pressing her mouth down over his in reply.  She didn’t want to think about Jimmy. Not tonight, maybe not anymore.

The kiss was warm and syrupy, like the feeling you get when you first put a forkful of plump fluffy syrup and butter laden pancakes in your mouth; sweet and satisfying and left her wanting more. 

“Will you be my boyfriend?” she whispered coquettishly against his cheek as he kissed his way along her jaw and down to her neck. He got very still, his lips just hovering over her shoulder. For one, long, agonizing moment she thought she’d done the wrong thing, said the wrong words and ruined the entire game, and then he slowly raised his head and his dark, simmering gaze met hers’. 

“You’re gonna dump him?” he asked without even as a single hint of laughter in either his voice or his eyes. Reaching up, Chelsea ran her fingers through his thick mop of dark hair. 

“That depends,” she replied, letting her gaze slowly and flirtatiously make its way back to his, “on what your answer is.” She waited for his full mouth to twitch and then begin to turn up into the boyish smile he often wore when he looked at her but his gaze remained steely until she was almost certain that he was about to say something that was going to make her cry and then he reached up and cupped her cheek and his dark eyes softened. 

“You should just dump him, period.” It wasn’t exactly a declaration of love or even the answer to her question but his heart, she decided, was definitely in the right place. She leaned in to kiss him but he leaned back. “Promise me you will kick that dirt bag cowpoke to the curb,” he insisted, his expression deadly serious. She searched his gaze but couldn’t find even the smallest spark that would tell her that he was kidding. “Say it,” he insisted, his tone still serious but his gaze falling to her lips like he wanted to kiss her, was thinking about kissing her as much as she wanted him to. 

“Okay,” she replied, moving her mouth closer to his but his thumb was suddenly there, suddenly pressed against her mouth and he was shaking his head. 

“Nope, not good enough, I don’t think you mean it.” His voice was low and made her stomach quiver and her pussy clench and then he looked up at her and the expression in his eyes made her draw a mouthful of air sharply between her teeth.

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He could feel her heat through his sweat pants and he badly wanted to slide his dick back into her warm, tight wet core but he couldn’t and not just because of the barrier of the thick cotton between them either. Something had changed, definitely in him and maybe, if he was really lucky, in her too. 

He liked this woman, a lot. He hadn’t let himself fall for a chick in a long time. It messed with his head and fucked up his game and he’d been fucking that up enough himself lately he hadn’t needed anyone else’s help to do that. He was falling for Chelsea though and he knew, by the way his chest got tight every time he looked at her and the way, right now when she was trying to be cute and playful that he wanted to punish her and make her take him seriously that he could fall hard and completely and as much as that scared the living shit out of him, he knew that he wanted to fall for her. Even if she broke his heart, he decided as he dropped the last of the walls defending his heart and let her see how serious he was.

 “I’ve seen men like him treat women like that, like the way he talks to you. Guys like that treat women like they don’t have a mind or thoughts and feelings of their own. Don’t get me wrong, sometimes they deserve it. You don’t. I know you were kidding before...about me being your boyfriend but...I wouldn’t treat you like that; ever.” There it was. He’d put his heart out there for her to stamp on and Mike could hardly breathe as he watched those cat’s eyes of hers search his face. She was waiting for him to crack, to smile and laugh and joke around and he could of, maybe before he’d seen inside of her to that fiery woman who wasn’t ready to be tied down. 

He wanted to be the one to set her free. It was like holding a bird in your hands. He could feel her heart beating wildly, could sense her desire to spread her wings and catch the air beneath them and sail on the currents of the wind. At the same time he could practically smell her fear, could see it in the fine beads of sweat on upper lip and could feel it in the way her arms trembled as she clung to him. All he had to do was open his hands and she would have the choice; stay in his hands or fly. 

He wanted to tell her to fly, but the choice was hers’ and hers’ alone.