“If anything, I think you’re unhappy in life. You need to make changes.” Tessa said wisely. “You need to tell Alex how you truly feel, because I think the guilt of knowing and not telling him is weighing heavily on you and making everything a thousand times worse.”
“Yeah, maybe,” I sighed, mulling it over.
“Elle, I don’t think this has anything to do with Braden. I mean, not like how you’re thinking. I think you just don’t feel that level of passion for Alex that you did for Braden, and it’s making you take pause—which is a good thing. You want that, you need it. You function on ‘crazy, can’t get enough of you’ passion. That doesn’t mean you need to forgive Braden, that doesn’t mean he’s the only one you’ll ever have that kind of love with—but maybe it just means that Alexisn’tthat person. There might be someone else out there who is, though,” Tessa finished her grand speech by nudging her body into mine and softening her words with a gentle smile.
I exhaled, massaging my temple with my fingers. “I hear what you’re saying. But Alex has been good to me…he’s been goodforme.”
Tessa watched me cautiously. “This is about more than your love life, isn’t it?” She was giving me an opening, all but pleading me with her eyes. She could see me warring with myself between telling her the truth about what was happening in my life and closing down. I desperately wanted to close down. I didn’t want to burden my best friend with my drama—especially not with the wedding and all the stress she was facing. “Don’t shut down, Elle. Tell me what’s going on—I know something’s happening. You’re not acting like yourself. At first I thought it was the whole wedding thing and having to see Braden again…but I know that’s not it. At least not completely.” She paused again, the wheels turning quickly in her mind. “Oh my God, are you pregnant Elle?!”
“Hell no!” I hissed, looking behind us to the screen door to make sure Tessa’s voice hadn’t carried. “I am not pregnant,” I told her, frowning.
“Then?” Tessa pressed, her amber eyes wide. She wasn’t letting go and I knew she wouldn’t until I fessed up.
I drew my legs up against my chest, making myself into a small little ball. I couldn’t meet her eyes, so I spoke to my knees. “I have post-traumatic stress disorder.” My voice was barely above a whisper. “My boss—and doctor—insisted that I take some time off to try and deal with my symptoms.”
Tessa sighed and pulled me against her, wrapping her arms around my body. “I’m so sorry Elle. I had no idea, why didn’t you tell me? And here I’ve been, adding a shit ton of stress on you and making you worry about my silly wedding when you should be focusing on yourself.” Her voice was thick with emotion, as if she was struggling not to cry.
“No, it’s fine. Really, the wedding is a good distraction for me. And honestly…I didn’t know how to tell people. I still don’t, my mom doesn’t know yet. Only Alex knew.”
“You’re not ashamed, are you?” Tessa demanded, pulling away just enough to meet my gaze with a determined look in her eyes. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. Your job is high-stress, you’ve seen things most people couldn’t handle. You’ve saved lives and you’ve put yourself in danger on a regular basis.”
“And I can’t handle it, any of it,” I responded, my voice breaking a little. “I want to, so badly. I want to handle this job. I want to save lives…I just…I can’t turn it off. Ever. I can’t get the images out of my head. It got to the point where I couldn’t even sit in the ambulance—let alone answer a call—without having a full blown panic attack. That’s not fair to my partner…and even though it’s Alex, even though he understands…I hated that I was putting him in danger by not being one hundred percent focused on the job. At first, I dreaded the idea of coming home…but now that I’m here, I’m not all that sure that I want to go back. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do—I can’t just give up on my job, on my career.”
“Well, you don’t have to decide today, do you?” Tessa asked, arching a brow. I shook my head, sighing. “Then let’s just focus on the now. Take things one day at a time. Let yourself breathe and just be.”
“Yeah,” I said, sounding every bit as unconvinced as I felt. We sat in silence for a few moments, Tessa’s arms still around me. We turned at the sound of the screen door clanging as Mom stepped out onto the porch followed by a sheepish looking Bill.
“What’s going on?” Mom asked, looking between the two of us with suspicion.
“Nothing, just waiting on you,” Tessa answered with a smile as she stood up. “Are you ready to find your dress?”
Braden
For the rest of the day, I kept watching the clock. The hands moved painfully slow and yet—at the same time—agonizingly fast. Asking Elle out for dinner was an impulsive move. Yeah, I wanted to take her out, and I definitely wanted to be in her company again. I had to apologize to her, I had to make her understand that I’m not the same guy I was—that I won’t ever break her heart or take her for granted again.
I didn’t exactly leave myself enough time to come up with the perfect speech. Hell, I didn’t think I’d ever have enough time to come up with the right things to say to make everything better, to erase the hurt I’d obviously caused her. Words had never been my strong suit. Communication wasn’t my forte. I spoke by actions and gestures. My family knew I cared about them because I’d do anything for them—even dig myself out of an empty pit of self-destruction with my bare hands.
As for Elle…well, I had always showed my affection by physical touch and wordless glances. I used to just look at her and be able to convey every thought I couldn’t put out there. She’d always just…known. She’d known what I needed and exactly how to get me to open up.
But she wasn’t mine anymore. I couldn’t touch her to reassure her of how deeply and truly I felt for her. She belonged to someone else, and even though I could tell she would respond to my touch the way she always had—she wasn’t ready to. She’d never forgive herself if she gave in that easily to me. To Elle, this was about her pride. I’d hurt her pride, and she wasn’t going to make it easy for me to get close again.
And it shouldn’t be easy for me. I should have to work damn hard to prove myself, because Elle deserved that, and I was willing to do that.
Even still, dinner this soon wasn’t a good idea, but she’d said yes and I’d be damned if I would walk away from any second of time spent with her.
When five o’clock finally rolled around, I rushed home and practically flew down the basement stairs to my domain, barely saying a word to my sister and nephew in passing. I was in the shower within seconds, not even allowing the water to heat up before submerging myself under the icy droplets.
I was completely keyed up, my entire body pulsing with the knowledge that I would soon be in her company. My mind easily recalled the memory of Elle, leaning forward against the engine of her little car yesterday. The shorts that she was wearing had hardly covered the globes of her ass cheeks. And just like that, I was rock hard. The cold water pellets did nothing to ease the desire coursing through my body.
I knew I wasn’t going to be able to focus on anything until I dealt with my sexual frustration. I placed one of my hands against the tile of the shower and fisted my cock with the other, slowly pumping as I pictured her. The way she’d bite her lower lip, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks and the quiet gasps she’d made whenever I pleasured her with my mouth.
I increased the tempo, moving my hand quicker in time to the memories that rushed through my mind. I could still rememberexactlywhat it felt like to be inside Elle Thompson—like fucking Nirvana. My knees buckled as I came, shooting my load all over the shower floor. After taking a few minutes to collect myself, I set to the task of washing my hair and body.
Less than ten minutes later, I came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around my waist. I exhaled deeply and ran my hand through my damp locks, tugging at the roots as I considered my options. I almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. I’d never been the kind of guy to give a shit about what I wore. Most of my clothes were old jeans and plain t-shirts. I didn’t want to wear something that looked worn; I wanted to look good.
I pulled out my newest pair of dark denim jeans, and the white Henley shirt my sister bought for me last Christmas. I tugged the shirt over my head and my eyes skimmed over to the mirror above my dresser. I ran a hand through my unruly hair again, trying to get some semblance of order to it.
Satisfied that I looked about as good as I could get, I grabbed my keys and wallet, my eyes automatically focussing on the photo booth pictures. What I wouldn’t give to have Elle look at me like that again.
