My therapist had tried to make me understand that concept. I knew what it meant but had failed to put it into practice. That was one reason for moving out of Paths. To get control over my life.
“I like to think that if I had it to do all over again, I never would. But I don’t know that. I got sucked in, was so weak.”
“You weren’t weak. He wasn’t right. It’s not your fault you didn’t know it.”
I’d been young and vulnerable when we met and had lied to my family about his age, not that they’d cared. The second I’d finished high school, I'd been on my own. Well, Kyle had been there.
“He loved me. Too much.” I fingered the comforter and stared at the wall. “It’s messed up that I still miss that.”
“He gave you a side of himself that you fell in love with.”
“He was controlling, but I didn’t mind. If I’d been stronger—”
“Don’t do that.”
Tears trickled down my cheeks, and I sniffled. “I can see it happening again. With Holt. It wouldn’t take much for him to become my whole world.”
Trish gently pulled on my shoulder until I sat up. Her eyes were serious as she looked at me. “You are strong. Your own woman. Look at how far you’ve come. What you’ve accomplished.”
“I got the internship because Hayden felt sorry for me.”
She frowned. “That’s not true.”
“Oh come on. At the shelter, we’re all charity cases.”
She recoiled as I lashed out. “Maybe,” she said hesitantly. “But I learned a long time ago that help is help. And sometimes we just need it in any form.”
I let my eyes fall closed for a brief second. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m just—”
“Upset,” she finished for me.
“Yeah.”
“In all the time I’ve known you, this is the first I’ve seen you any less than perfect.”
“I’m not perfect.”
“You make it look easy. Especially when I know it’s not.”
“I don’t know how to deal with it anymore.”
“One day, one step at a time.” She put her arm around my shoulders and squeezed. “I saw a mess out there on the table when I came in. I’ve got a little time to play test subject if you’re game.”
I gave her a wobbly smile. “Yeah. I’m definitely game.”
Chapter Eight
Holt
“Honey, I’m home.”
I balanced a pizza and a six pack of beer as I kicked the front door shut. The large living/dining/kitchen area was quiet, other than the low sound of “Only" by RY X in the background. Except the mess on the table had spread from the center space it occupied this morning to the entire surface. I smiled. Baker had been working hard today.
She emerged from the hallway wearing my T-shirt, a pair of sweatpants, and her hair piled up in that knot thing again. Something filled me at the sight of her in some of my clothes I recognized from the night before, but wasn’t entirely sure what it was.
I liked it.
“I brought dinner.” I lifted up the pizza box before I set it down next to the beer on the island.
She put a hand on her hip and cocked that pretty head to the side. “Maybe this roommate thing isn’t so bad.”
Her smile turned me inside out. Real. All for me.
She glided over to me and plucked a beer from the holder. I held the neck and opened it for her, flicking the cap on the counter.
“Thanks,” she said quietly.
“I’m gonna go change.” I unzipped a few inches of my coveralls, and her lips parted. “I’m dirty, Easy. Really dirty. Want to help me clean up?”
A little noise of frustration escaped her. “Do you spend all day thinking of ways to get me in the shower with you again?”
“Yep.” I tossed her a wink and sauntered off toward the bathroom. No need to lie when the truth was much better.
* * *
“You’re spoiling me.” I set my beer on the coffee table and sank onto the sofa next to Baker. She already had the television show cued up, the pizza box and napkins in front of her.
“You’re killing me. This pizza smells so good, and I’ve had to wait on your slow self before I could start.”
She flipped open the top of the box and scooped a piece of pizza up. I was fascinated as she lifted the slice to her lips like I’d never seen anybody eat before. I’d never seen a mouth like hers, that was for sure.
“Aren’t you going to eat?”
“Yeah. Of course.”
I grabbed my own slice and devoured it in a few bites. Baker stared at me. “Hungry?”
“Starved.” I took a long swallow of beer and pointed the bottle toward the dining room table. “Looks like you’ve been busy. You find the perfect shade you were looking for?”
She angled her body toward me and tucked a leg up under her. “I don’t know. I think I’m close.”
Baker abandoned her pizza and scrambled off the sofa over to her work station. She hurried back with a small container of something red in her hands.
“What’s that?” I was afraid at the gleam in her eyes.
“You’re the perfect skin tone to see if this looks right.”
“I am?”
She laughed and if I didn’t watch it, I was going to become addicted to that sound. “Are you afraid of a little lip gloss?”
“Uh, maybe.”
She pried my beer from my fingers and set it on the table next to hers. A waft of her scent intoxicated me when she scooted closer.
“I bet you’ve fought off bears in Wyoming. This is nothing,” she taunted, swiping her finger into the red stuff. “Pucker up.”
“Can’t say no to that.”
She made a face at me. “Not what I meant.”
My response died on my tongue as she ran her finger across my bottom lip. Everything in me tightened to the point I had to ball my fists to keep from grabbing her hips. With slow, torturous movement, she repeated the motion on my top lip. Her eyes were trained on my mouth, her tongue peeking out of the corner of hers in concentration.
She couldn’t do that and expect me to be a gentleman. A smile spread across her lips and I was done for.
“Perfect.” The triumph on her face had me grinning back.
“I knew you’d get it right.”
She sat back, uncertain by my confidence. “You did?”
“Yep. Now what else do you need to test?”
Her brows shot up. “You’d let me put makeup on you?”
“Easy, I’m beginning to think there isn’t anything I wouldn’t let you do to me.” I reached for my beer, and she grabbed my arm.
“You’ll smudge your gloss.” Her lips twitched, and I tried to scowl, failing miserably.
“There’s plenty more there.” I took a swig. “You’d better name this after me. Since I made it look perfect and all.”
I stripped the container from her hands and dipped my finger into the well.
“I can’t name it Holt.”