Chapter 15

I slowed as I drove past the Coulters’ house, but the landscaping hid their garage from view. I couldn’t tell if Leah was home, and I definitely didn’t want to see her parents. I was too ashamed of how I looked—and smelled, and felt—but I didn’t have many other options, so I’d have to take my chances.

I pulled into the driveway and stopped the car. The engine pinged and popped, and I sat there for a moment before I worked up the courage to get out. The cold air was a welcome relief from the stuffy car, but it also reminded me how bad I smelled. I rang the doorbell and hoped the wind didn’t shift.

Leah opened the door and promptly blinked in confusion. I could only imagine what I looked like, and I knew what I smelled like.

“Paul?”

“Yeah,” I half-croaked, my throat raw from abuse. “Sorry I didn’t call.”

Her brow furrowed. “Why are you here? What happened? Are you okay?”

“It’s a long story. Are your parents here?” Even though it was Saturday, I still might get lucky. My hopes died when she nodded. Then she realized that we were standing with the door wide open.

“Do you want to come in?” She was clearly reluctant, and I couldn’t blame her—I wouldn’t want to be near me either, but I didn’t have a choice.

“I can’t.”

“Are ... are you okay?”

“I need help, and I don’t know where else to go.” My eyes stung, and I blinked to clear them. “I can’t see your parents, ‘cause they’ll tell mine. I hate to ask, but...” I thought she was going to turn me away, but then she grabbed her coat, called into the house that she’d be back in a minute, and joined me on the porch.

“You can stay in the guest house,” she said. “I’ll have to tell my parents something, but they’ll understand. If not...” She shrugged. “I guess we’ll deal with it.”

The guest house was dark and cold, but Leah turned on the lights and set the thermostat.

“It’ll take a while for the water to heat up,” she said as she rummaged in the linen closet, “but you can take a shower when it does.”

I shifted from foot to foot and felt like a hobo.

“Do you have anything clean to put on after?”

I shook my head.

“Okay. I’ll bring you something. Leave your dirty clothes in the hall.”

I shuffled into the bathroom. For some reason I didn’t want her to see me undress, so I closed the door behind me.

I turned on the shower, but the water was still cold. I didn’t really care. I scrubbed myself from head to toe, three times, and was shivering by the time I finished. Leah had placed a folded blue robe on the counter. I donned it and stared at myself in the mirror.

My eyes were sunken and dark, and my jaw sported several days of stubble. I felt like hell, wrung out and hung over, but at least I was clean for the first time in too long. I’d left my toiletry kit in the duffel bag with my dirty clothes, but Leah had set it next to the robe.

I brushed my teeth, but didn’t have the energy to shave. Instead, I wanted to sleep. A part of me hoped I’d never wake up. It would serve me right. Then I wouldn’t—

Leah interrupted with a gentle knock.

“I put fresh sheets on the bed in the blue room,” she said, her voice muffled by the wood of the door.

I opened it and tried not to look as pathetic as I felt. “Thanks. Is it okay if I take a nap? I ... um ... I didn’t get much sleep last night.” Or the night before, or the night before that, or... I couldn’t remember the last time I’d really slept.

“Um ... sure. Okay.”

I shuffled to the bedroom and climbed into the cold bed. I pulled the covers up and curled around myself. Leah lingered for a moment, but must have decided that she didn’t want to be near me. I couldn’t really blame her.

I blinked awake and stared at the ceiling for a moment. I’d grown accustomed to waking up in strange places, but I still felt a moment of panic as I tried to figure out where I was. Then I remembered and relaxed.

I didn’t know what time it was, but it was dark outside. Leah had left a tray with sandwiches and milk next to the bed. I wasn’t in the mood to eat, but my stomach had other notions, so I mechanically emptied the tray. My eyes grew heavy as soon as I finished, so I lay back and pulled the covers over me. I closed my eyes and fell asleep almost immediately.

I woke in a sweaty panic. I’d been dreaming, and could still hear the jeers ringing in my ears. The scene faded quickly but the feeling didn’t. I got up and shivered in the cold air on the way to the bathroom.

Leah was asleep in the other bedroom, but she didn’t stir as I returned to my own. I stripped off the sweaty robe, climbed into bed, and pulled the covers over me. I felt lost and alone, stranded in a wilderness of my own making.

The half-remembered dream didn’t help, but the emptiness was almost worse. I’d lost something in the dream, and people were laughing at me for it. The symbolism was obvious, and I let out a dark sigh at the way my mind worked.

I closed my eyes and tried to go back to sleep, but I couldn’t escape the chaos of my emotions. The heat of anger had long since faded, replaced by a solid lump of guilt and shame, and plenty of self-recriminations. Sleep took a long time coming and was a welcome relief when it did.

Dust motes floated through a ray of sunlight, and I followed them back to the crack in the curtains. I didn’t know what time it was, but the sun was already well up. I rubbed my face and yawned. I still felt like some Viking berserker had used me for a practice dummy, but at least I was alive.

Leah had replaced the tray on the nightstand with a glass of orange juice and a plate of toast. I wasn’t in the mood for food, but I drained the juice in several long gulps. Then I headed for the bathroom.

When I finished, I stared at the mirror and saw myself for the loser I was. I looked like hell and felt worse, which was probably more than I deserved, especially after the self-destruction of the past week. Thinking back, I didn’t know how I’d ever explain it.

Not for the first time, I wanted to crawl away and die quietly. Unfortunately, I knew I couldn’t kill myself. And I wasn’t likely to die in my sleep, no matter how much I wanted to. But I still wasn’t ready to face Leah’s disappointment, so I shuffled back to bed.

A few minutes later she knocked softly and opened the door. “Are you okay?”

I heaved a shrug.

She came around and sat beside me. After a moment she brushed my hair back. Her own hair shadowed her face, but I could feel her looking at me.

“Do you want to get up?”

I shook my head, but she didn’t go away.

“It’s been almost twenty-four hours.” She waited for nearly a minute. “Come on,” she said at last, “get up.”

She pulled back the covers and tugged me out of bed. I followed listlessly to the bathroom, where she turned on the shower and tested the temperature. With unhurried movements, she undressed and twisted her hair into a loose knot.

“Come on,” she said, “you’ll feel better.”

The hot water stung my skin, but she gently pushed again, and I let the water stream over me. She turned me to face her and began lathering the soap. She washed me in silence, her hands moving gently over my body.

When we finished she wrapped a towel around herself and handed the other one to me. Then she gave me a critical look.

“I’ll be right back,” she said, and returned with a small stool from the rustic kitchen set. “Have a seat.”

She began filling the sink with hot water, and I glanced at the foggy mirror, thankful that I couldn’t see any details. Instead, I watched her rummage for my razor and shaving cream.

“Sit down,” she said. “Lift your chin.”

She coated my jaw with shaving cream and then smiled at the uncertainty in my eyes.

“My dad used to let me do this sometimes,” she explained, “when I was a girl.”

She shaved me with a steady hand, and even took the time to trim my sideburns. “There, that’s better. But you need a haircut too.”

She didn’t even ask if I minded. She simply pulled open the bottom drawer and came up with a pair of scissors and a bulky old electric trimmer. She unwrapped her towel and draped it around my shoulders. My eyes were drawn to her body, and I wondered if her nipples were hard because of the cool air, or something else.

Leah ignored my gaze and worked quietly, snipping and combing and studying the results. I tried not to stare at her breasts, but I couldn’t help looking at the rest of her either. Her pubic area should have been covered in short, dark hair, but it was just as bare as the last time I’d seen it.

“Much better,” she said when she finished. “You look almost human again.”

“I don’t feel like it,” I said, the first words I’d spoken all morning. I felt like sulking, if only to show how miserable I felt, but then I realized the truth: I didn’t feel miserable. I felt almost human again.

With a bewildered snort, I realized that Leah’s silent attention had done more than any words could have. It had been intimate, in a way that sex never could be. I looked at her with a new appreciation and wondered if she’d done it on purpose. Probably not, but that was even more troubling. It meant she actually cared about me, and I fought down a surge of emotion.

“Let’s rinse off,” she said. “C’mon.”

She carefully gathered the hair-covered towels, so I fetched clean ones. She had the shower going when I returned. She stepped into the tub and held the curtain for me. Then she moved under the spray and rinsed from the neck down.

“Here,” I said, “my turn to wash you.”

“That’s okay,” she said before thinking, “I—” She met my eyes and studied me for a moment. “Yeah, okay.”

I reached behind her and tugged her hair. It swung loose and immediately grew damp from the spray. Her caramel skin was already slick with water, and I felt a sudden hunger for her body.

I broke the spell with an almost physical effort. A smile flickered over her lips, but disappeared just as quickly. She smoothed her hair under the spray, and I stole a glance at the swell of her breasts as they rose and fell. Her nipples were dark and soft, almost perfectly round.

She caught me looking and smiled for real. Then she handed me the shampoo and turned her back. I took my time as I lathered her hair, and worked the suds into the raven mass. Then I had her rinse, and repeated the massage with conditioner.

In contrast with our first shower, I was being deliberately intimate. I didn’t need to coax her out of her shell, but I wanted to take my time. I’d seen her barely two weeks before, but it felt like years.

In the meantime I’d said a lot of things I wasn’t proud of, and done even more. Worse, I hadn’t been able to talk to my friends—if they even were my friends anymore—and a part of me missed them more than I was willing to admit. Did they think about me? Worry? Had Trip told them anything? Were they miserable too? A gloomy part of me doubted it, but I wasn’t so sure.

I was still lost in thought when I felt Leah pull away to rinse. She tugged me under and brushed stray hairs from my neck and shoulders. When she thought I was clean enough, she turned off the water and opened the shower curtain.

We dried in silence, each lost in thought. I felt guilty that my brooding had changed the mood between us, but I didn’t know how to fix things. Then she began toweling her hair, and I had an idea. “Here,” I said, “let me do that.”

She gave me a curious look, but then shrugged and let me take her towel.

I rubbed her hair until it stopped dripping. Then I grabbed the comb and led her to the bedroom, where I sat on the bed and pulled her down in front of me. Our skin was warm and damp where it touched, and she smiled back at me. I gave her hair a final tousle and then began combing it out.

Leah relaxed and tilted her head back. I combed until her hair shone with a jet black luster. Then I swept it aside and kissed her neck. She moaned softly as I pulled her against me.

Her nipples arched skyward, hard from arousal and the cool air. I cupped her breasts and planted kisses up her neck. After a moment I pulled away. She moaned a question. Instead of answering, I slid from behind her and gently pushed her to the pillow. Then I climbed in beside her and pulled the covers over us.

I kissed her gently and rested my hand on her belly before sliding it lower. Her pussy was hot and damp from the shower, and her own juices began to flow as I rubbed slowly. With an urgent little sigh, she reached between us and groped for my erection.

I let her stroke me as our kisses grew more urgent. Then I climbed over her and nudged between her legs. She spread them for me, her eyes hooded with anticipation. Her expression changed when I didn’t enter her immediately. Instead, I grinned and slowly disappeared under the covers.

She put her hands on my head and spread her legs as I shouldered them apart. I licked her gently and inhaled the clean scent of her arousal. She moaned and thrust her hips at me, so I cupped her ass and began licking in earnest.

I hadn’t gone down on many of the girls during my week of insanity. For one thing, I wasn’t entirely sure of their hygiene. For another, several of them were hippie-hairy, which was a major turn-off. Sandra had been well-trimmed and clean, along with one other girl, but I hadn’t been inclined to go down on any of the others.

Leah was different. She was fresh and clean, and she’d shaved for me. I smiled at the thought and swirled my tongue around her clit. Then I took my time and made sure her arousal built slowly. The air under the covers grew thick and hot, musty with the scent of her.

When I finally decided that she’d had enough warm-up, I crawled up her body. I stopped to give her nipples a playful suck, but then burst into the cool, fresh air. We kissed, and she surged with pleasure at the taste on my lips.

We were still kissing when she reached between us and set my manhood at her opening. I slid into her and felt a wave of pleasure at her smooth warmth. Then I began thrusting, our bodies pressed together as I ground against her clit.

After less than a minute, she arched her back and cried out. I kept thrusting, and her pussy convulsed around me with a flood of heat and moisture. She dug her fingers into my back and cried out softly as waves of pleasure crashed through her.

I thrust until she went limp, but then slowed to a stop, my cock buried deep inside her. She held me close and panted, her breath soft in my ear. I shifted my weight and grinned as the movement sent an aftershock through her.

We held each other until she caught her breath. Then I began rocking my hips, and she pressed back against me. I was close to my own orgasm, but I didn’t want to come inside her. I thrust until I was ready and then pulled out and straddled her chest.

She looked cross-eyed as she focused on my shiny cock, and I had to stifle a laugh. But then she captured the tip and swirled her tongue around the swollen purple head. I let out a deep groan and braced myself on the wall above the headboard.

She gripped my balls with one hand and began stroking with the other. I didn’t last long, and jerked my hips as the first spurt coursed up my shaft. Leah moaned when she tasted it, and locked her lips around me while she pumped.

When the jets of semen finally slowed to gushes and then stopped altogether, I sat back on my heels. My cock and balls rested on her soft stomach, and she grinned up at me, her lips moist with our combined juices.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” I said. More than you know.

We made love for the next hour. She obviously wanted to know why I was there, but was too preoccupied to ask. That didn’t stop her from wondering, though.

When we finally took a break, I could almost feel her thinking about it. I didn’t know where to begin, so I stalled.

“What did you tell your parents? About why I’m here, I mean.”

She shrugged and rolled against me. Her head rested in the hollow of my shoulder as she toyed with my nipple. “The truth,” she said laconically. “Sort of.”

“Mmm?”

“I told ‘em you looked like crap and needed a place to hide out for a few days.”

I chuckled, low and dark. “That’s the truth all right.”

“I figured you’d tell me more when you were ready.”

“And the wait nearly killed you,” I teased, “didn’t—? Ow! That hurt!”

She released my nipple.

“What was that for?”

“For making me worry,” she said tartly. “And for sleeping a whole day. And for being a butthead.”

“Butthead? When was I a butthead?”

“Just now,” she said, as if I should’ve known.

I rubbed my sore nipple and pushed her hand away.

“So...,” she said mildly, “are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

“Not if you keep pinching me.”

“Awww.”

“Hmph.”

She laughed. “I’m not like Gina, you know. That cute little pout doesn’t work with me.”

“I’m not pouting,” I lied.

She raised her head and gazed at me. Then she arched a perfect eyebrow.

“Okay, maybe just a little.”

She rested her head on my shoulder again, satisfied. Then her finger circled my nipple. The threat was unmistakable. “So, tell me what happened. It can’t be that bad.”

“It’s pretty bad.”

“Talking about it’ll help.”

“I’ll get there,” I said, a bit peevishly. “Just hold your horses.”

She reached under the sheet and gripped my flaccid manhood. “Better?” she teased. “It’s a pony, at least.”

“Ha ha,” I said dryly. She was trying to lighten the mood, but I knew better—nothing could lighten the past two weeks.

She must have felt me gathering my thoughts, because she released my penis and rested her hand on my stomach. Then she kissed my chest, soft and friendly and reassuring.

I drew breath and gathered my nerve. I didn’t know how I’d get through it all, or if I even could, but I owed it to Leah to try. No, I owed it to myself.

The story seemed so monumental that I couldn’t tell it lying down, so I sat up and crossed my legs. After the warmth of Leah’s body, the cold air raised goose bumps, and I suppressed a shudder. Leah sat up and looked at me with calm curiosity.

I began slowly, determined to tell all of it: the good (what little there was), the bad, and the really ugly. Leah never interrupted, but she filled my awkward pauses with questions that got me speaking again. Each time she did, I listened for a reaction in her voice, but she never betrayed any.

A childish part of me wanted her to be furious at Trip and Wren, if only to justify my reaction. The guilty part of me wanted her to be appalled, to tell me I was a loser and a lowlife. But mostly I wanted her to know the truth, to judge me on all the facts instead of just the obvious ones.

So I laid myself bare and told her everything, from the fight and its aftermath to Sandra and the others. I even told her about wanting to kill myself, which was harder to admit than all of the rest.

“So that’s why I’m here,” I said at last. “I didn’t know where else to go. And I couldn’t keep doing what I was doing.” I wiped my eyes. “Sorry I messed up your weekend.”

“You didn’t mess it up.”

I stared at my hands, afraid to meet her eyes.

“And I’m glad you’re here.” She couldn’t bring herself to say it, but she touched my leg and the message was obvious: “I’m glad you didn’t kill yourself.”

Me too, I thought. At least ... I think I’m glad. Sometimes I wasn’t so sure.

The silence hung between us, but then Leah let out her breath. “Wow. No wonder you looked like crap.”

I laughed cynically. “Do you hate me?”

“Of course not, but I had no idea you’d go that far off the deep end.” She shrugged philosophically. “I guess you had pretty good reasons, though.”

“Not really. Now that I’ve had time to think about it, it was all pretty stupid. Well, the little stuff was. I mean, I got orange juice on my sweater. Big deal. And the thing with Christy was my own fault. I should’ve been paying attention instead of looking for Wren.”

“Yeah, but that happens.”

“The other stuff was just as piddling,” I went on. “Luke left his coat on the floor. He always does that. He’s a slob, and I should know better. I mean, it’s not his fault I twisted my knee.”

“It sorta is,” Leah said, “but I know what you mean.”

“The scholarship was a big deal,” I continued, “but I shouldn’t’ve lost my temper.”

“Yeah, but after everything else...?”

“I know. Still...” I stared into space for a moment. “The worst part was Trip and Wren.” I drew a breath and controlled my emotions. “The sound of her voice when she called his name...” My eyes stung with the memory. “And his face when he saw me, like he knew what he’d done.”

“He deserves whatever he gets,” Leah spat.

I blinked at her venom. “Well, he did try to tell me about Wren and him.”

“Yeah, right.”

“He did.”

“When?”

“The note.”

“What note?”

“The one where he said we needed to talk, that it was important. I only thought it was about the houses. It wasn’t, obviously.”

“How do you know?”

“I know Trip,” I said. “Trust me.” I snorted at a memory. “He had me fly him to Louisiana once, just to break up with a girl. He wouldn’t do it over the phone.” Leah’s eyebrows shot up, and I nodded. “He wouldn’t tell me something like that in a note, either. He’d do it in person. So that’s what it was about, not the houses.” I paused to remember, and wanted to kick myself for jumping to conclusions. “And when I stopped at Wren’s apartment instead of mine...” I shrugged. “I pretty much set myself up for that one.”

“But he shouldn’t’ve slept with her in the first place!”

“I dunno,” I said with another shrug. “I mean, I did everything but throw her at him. I guess I was already thinking that Gina and I would get back together. I didn’t want Wren to feel jilted. Subconsciously, at least. I ... I don’t know. All I know is, I told him to call her, and went out of my way to say we were just friends.”

“Still,” Leah objected, “he shouldn’t’ve slept with her. And what about her? She was supposed to be your friend.”

“She still is, I think.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I saw her expression after the fight. She looked like she’d been punched.”

“It’d serve her right!”

I understood Leah’s anger, but I didn’t share it. Not anymore, at least. I’d had time to cool off, to think about things and get some perspective. By contrast, the betrayal was fresh in Leah’s mind, and her defenses were up. I smiled, but it was melancholy.

“No,” I said, “it was pretty much my fault.”

“What? How?”

“Think about it,” I said reasonably. “I treated Wren like a back-up for Gina.” I gave Leah a shrewd look. “How did you like it? When you thought I did it to you, I mean?”

“I wanted to kill you, but...”

“Exactly. Wren was a bit less dramatic, but just as angry.” I paused to let it sink in. “Besides, she and Trip are friends. They have a lot in common. So when he called her before Christmas, one thing probably led to another.” I shrugged and left the rest for Leah’s imagination.

“Still ... how can you be so calm about it?”

“I’m calm now,” I said, “but I wasn’t then.” I snorted a harsh laugh. “I basically tried to kill my best friend. Then I wanted to kill myself. Then I slept with a married woman, just because I thought her husband deserved it. Last but not least, I spent a week getting drunk and screwing anything that moved.”

She blinked at the reminder.

“If you think that’s calm,” I said, deliberately composed, “then I’ve got a bridge in Brooklyn to sell you.”

“They still shouldn’t’ve done it,” she said hotly.

“No, probably not. Not in a perfect world. But it’s not a perfect world, and they’re only human. At least they tried to tell me before I found out on my own.”

“Yeah, right,” she scoffed. “The note.”

“I’m sure that’s what it was about,” I said. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about it, and I know Trip. I saw the look on his face when he answered the door at Wren’s apartment.”

Leah crossed her arms beneath her breasts, unwilling to give him the benefit of the doubt.

“Trust me,” I said softly.

“I guess.” She was unconvinced, so I changed the subject.

“Believe it or not,” I said, “I really miss talking to him.”

“Why?”

“How would you feel if you and Erin had a fight and stopped talking?”

“She never stole my boyfriend.”

“Wren wasn’t my girlfriend.”

“So? Close enough.”

“No, not close enough. We were friends—good friends—but nothing more. I thought we might be, but I missed my chance.”

“I still don’t understand how you can be so calm about this.”

I shrugged. “I’m over it, I guess. Besides, what good will it do to stay angry? I did that already, and look where it got me.”

“Still, you could tell them or something...”

“Why? They know what they did. They know how I feel about it. I think I made that clear.”

“Not clear enough,” Leah muttered.

I tried not to laugh. She was trying to stand up for me, but I didn’t need her protection. I didn’t need her approval, either, or her absolution. Maybe I just needed her to listen, so I could talk through my feelings and prove that I was still human after all.

Leah couldn’t read me like Kendall, but she could sense when I was done with a subject. “What’re you going to do?”

I took a deep breath and let it out. The words formed without thought: “Apologize, I guess.”

Her eyes bugged. “You’re what? I can’t believe you’re going to apologize. After what they did!”

“I’m not going to apologize for what they did,” I said. “They’ll have to deal with that themselves.”

“Then what for?”

“For what I did.”

Her jaw dropped, but I shrugged it off.

“I shouldn’t’ve called Wren a slut,” I said softly. “That’s why Trip jumped me. I’d’ve done the same thing.” I laughed harshly. “Heck, I did. I almost broke a guy’s arm back in high school.”

“That was different.”

My eyebrows shot up. “You remember that?”

“Of course I do,” she snapped, and I had to suppress a grin. “The Iranian Hostage Crisis. Everyone thought we were Iranians.” She shook her head in annoyance. “As if Gina looks anything like a Persian. She’s darker than me, and even more Indian. I’m the one who looks Persian. Idiots!”

I laughed in spite of myself.

“What’s so funny?”

“You.” I met her eyes, which glittered with suspicion. Something made me keep my mouth shut, and the silence drew out. “Have I told you how beautiful you are when you’re angry?”

“That’s beside the point,” she said irritably.

“Still, I thought you should know.” And I thought I should change the subject.

“Well, I know. Now, what’s this have to do with you apologizing for what they did?”

She wasn’t going to let me off the hook, and I sighed. “I’m not going to apologize for what they did. I’m going to apologize for what I did. That’s what grown-ups do. They admit when they’re wrong, and—”

“Wrong? You didn’t do anything wrong! They—”

“Yes, I did,” I said deliberately, which stopped her mid-rant. “I said some really nasty things, things I didn’t mean.”

“They deserved it.”

“No, they didn’t.” My words hung in the air like soap bubbles, and neither of us spoke until they popped.

“But they...” She knew she was wrong, but she couldn’t bring herself to admit it. I didn’t blame her, though. I had taken almost two weeks to come to the same conclusion, and I’d gone through a lot more soul-searching than she had.

“Look,” I said at last, “there’s enough blame to go around. I can’t do anything about their part, but I can stand up and be a man and admit my part of it. If that means I need to apologize, then so be it. I won’t like it, but the right choice isn’t always the easy one.”

Leah simply stared at me. After a moment she shook her head. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand you.”

“Well, I guess that makes two of us.”

We ate dinner with her parents in the main house. They kind of insisted. I think they wanted to see the vagabond who’d shown up on their doorstep and needed a place to hide.

For my part, I was well-groomed and dressed in clean clothes for the first time in more than a week. I was subdued and afraid of pointed questions, but the Coulters seemed to trust Leah’s judgment. Well, Chris trusted her. Elizabeth obviously wanted to grill us, but he gave her a curt headshake. She frowned and kept her comments to herself.