It’s been hard as fuck lying in my bed each night, remembering how she felt in my arms, the way her body curled against me. Yeah, I need a change in a bad way. I have to stop loving Lauren, for my own sanity, and I don’t fucking know now. Not yet.
Downstairs, I hear my dad banging pots and pans. Must be cooking breakfast. Since his return home a couple of weeks ago, things have been getting better between us. Less stilted. We’ve talked some, and he told me he’s ready to make changes too. He even mentioned offhand that he’s thinking about selling the house, and I told him it was a good idea. I now truly understand the need for a fresh start, better than I ever realized I would.
I should go down and give him a hand, tell him I’m looking to move out soon. It takes me a couple of minutes to muster the strength to get out of bed. I’m not just tired, I’m exhausted. Bone-weary.
I came back to Boston hoping to win Lauren’s heart. Believing if I just put it all out there and showed her without fear that I want her, she’d see how great we could be together. Instead, it all got fucked up between us, and I had to walk away from her, though it cost me everything to do so. My head throbs at my temples, and I sit up and sigh. Shove the blanket down, then get out of bed. Up and at ‘em, I tell myself.
I toss on a pair of jeans over my boxers, run my fingers through my hair, then pad down the stairs. Stop when I reach the bottom and realize it isn’t Dad in the kitchen.
It looks like the entire place is covered in flour, dirty pans scattered across the countertops. Lauren’s bent over to open the oven door, her luscious ass clad in tight jeans and on display for me, and I hear her give a soft, disappointed groan to herself. She hasn’t noticed me here yet.
“Shit,” she says, pulling a cake pan out of the oven. She shakes her head and rests the pan on the top of the stove, then rips off the oven glove. Flicks the temperature off and sighs in disgust.
“What are you doing here?” I ask her quietly. It’s Monday morning. Why isn’t she at work? Who let her in? What the fuck is she up to?
Lauren spins around, clutching her chest. “Oh my God, you scared me.” Her cheeks are flushed, flour dusting her brow, her T-shirt. She glances down at her breasts, sees the powder coating them, then swipes her fingers across it in rapid flicks, giving an awkward laugh. “You’re up earlier than I thought you would be. Hope I didn’t wake you. I was trying to be quiet.”
“What are you doing here?” I repeat. I don’t move from my position. I can’t be near her right now. Even from here, my heart is thumping hard, and I’m struggling to breathe normally. That surge of pain I felt yesterday after we had sex in the bathroom roars right back to the surface. I keep my hands low at my sides and flex my fingers, which clenched without me realizing it.
“Your dad let me in earlier,” she explains in a rush, “and we talked a little, and…well, I was going to make you a cake and then tell you some things, but this is the second cake I’ve tried so far and it’s completely fallen in the middle.” She gestures behind her. “I keep screwing everything up.” Her face looks brittle, though she’s trying to keep her voice light.
I am completely lost. “Why would you make me a cake?”
She visibly swallows then steps toward me. My instinct is to take a step back, and I catch myself halfway into the motion. The flash of pain that fills her eyes makes me feel a bit guilty, though I don’t want to feel guilty. I’m not the one using her for sex. I have nothing to feel bad for.
Lauren’s a couple of feet from me now. She bites her lip and stares in the distance over my shoulder. “I…I was going to make you a cake because I thought doing something domestic might warm you up to me. The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, and all that.”
I rub my brow. The tension headache I’ve been fighting since yesterday is threatening to come back. I don’t want to do this right now. Can’t let myself drop the wall again, only to have her hurt me yet again the next time she tries to hide whatever happened between us. Can’t be around her, craving her, knowing it’s all one-sided.
“Lauren,” I start to warn, but she continues to speak.
“I messed up so badly with you, again, but it was totally an accident.” Her voice cracks on the last word, and her head drops. “I’m sorry I hurt you yesterday. I was trying to not make your brother uncomfortable because of what happened in his bathroom. It was merely me being thoughtful, not me being ashamed of what happened between us.” She sucks in a rapid breath. “It took me a few minutes to understand why you left, but I figured it out. Or at least, I think that’s what it was, anyway. And by the time I went out to find you, to explain everything, you were gone. And then you didn’t answer my texts last night, and…” She gives a small shrug. “I figured this was better discussed in person anyway. So, here I am, and I’m sorry for yesterday’s blunder.”