Page 57 of Unbearable
“I’m too tired to deal with you,” she said with an exaggerated sigh. He patted the couch next to him. “Why can’t you just let anything go. Talk, talk, talk, that’s all you do.”
“I can’t keep doing this, Brooke.” He had planned to keep their conversation civil, but that looked like it was going to be easier said than done.
“This isn’t okay,” he added, pointing to the bruise on his face. “None of this is okay. I don’t know what’s been happening with you, but it has to stop.”
“What do you mean what’s happening with me? I don’t ask anything from you except to pick up Ethan from daycare on occasion, and you can’t even do that lately.”
“I have to work,” he snarled. It was the same argument from earlier. “I’ll try to get away earlier from now on, but you can’t come at me every time plans change. You go out more often than not now. Where are you? It’s not a relationship if you’re never here to be a part of it.”
“You know what? I’m not doing this tonight. I’m tired, I’m going to bed.” She stomped toward the bedroom. “You know I can do much better, right?” she said, stopping with her hand on the doorknob to the bedroom. “I get better offers all the time. It would be nothing for Ethan and me to move in with one of them.”
“Brooke—”
“Just think about that tonight while you’re sleeping on the couch.”
“I’ll go sleep at my sister’s place,” he said, following her into the bedroom.
“Good idea. You need some time to think over what you want.”
He went to the closet and dragged out an overnight bag. She watched as he tossed a change of clothes inside. He added his toiletries before zipping the bag closed. He was on his way to the front door when he turned to find her watching him with a smirk from the bedroom doorway.
“We will talk about this tomorrow,” he said.
“We’ll see.” She shrugged, and he opened the front door. Maybe by tomorrow he really would have a plan thought outfor their future. He didn’t see continuing the relationship with Brooke. That wouldn’t even give him pause, except for Ethan.
He closed the door behind him. The walk down the stairs seemed to take him twice as long as normal. He climbed in his truck with his mind swirling over everything going on. It was probably why he drove past his sister’s apartment and straight out the north side of Boston.
That’s what he told himself anyway. He couldn’t admit that he needed Bailey more than he ever had at that moment. She had become his safe place. The place where he could either work out his problems or leave them behind.
This time, he didn’t even want to think about them. He simply wanted to lay in her arms until everything went away.
Bailey was sound asleep, dreaming about the new dog she planned on picking up from the shelter soon. In her dreams, she was trying to decide between an adorable black something-doodle and a fluffy retriever mix.
For some reason they kept banging on her door to be let in. She knew she needed to make a decision soon, but this seemed like a bit much.
Her eyes popped open right before she heard the banging again. Throwing the sheet off, she sat up in bed. The banging started again. So, it wasn’t two cute dogs begging to be let in. Shame.
She couldn’t imagine who would be at her front door this hour. It was well after midnight. Grabbing a baseball bat she kept under her bed, she eased out of her bedroom.
She paused at the top of the stairs at the shadow behind the small glass windows to the side of the front door. Someone was still out there.
Careful to avoid the squeaky stairs, she slowly crept down them until she could look out the peephole. Quickly, she unlocked the door and pulled it open.
“Fox?” she rasped, looking through the slit she had allowed.
“Yeah.”
“Do you know what time it is? Has something happened? Where’s Ethan?” she asked, pulling the door a little further open. Then she saw the bruise on his face. Grabbing his wrist, she pulled him inside.
“Did she do this?” she whispered. Her fingertips brushed across the side of his face. “We should get some ice on that.”
She turned to walk to the kitchen, but he caught her arm to stop her. When she turned around, his gaze finally found hers. It told her everything she needed to know. It spoke about how wounded he was, but also that she was the only one who could heal him. It wasn’t about the physical pain, not really. It was all about what he felt inside.
He didn’t say a word as his hand worked up from her arm to the back of her neck. She was pressed against the wall as his lips descended on her. He was gentle at first. His other hand rested on her hip as he took a tentative taste.
She didn’t know if he was waiting to be granted permission or to be pushed away. She didn’t care. All she knew was that she needed him as much as he did her.
She fisted his shirt in both hands and pulled him closer to her. His kiss became more frantic. His tongue swept through her mouth, then his lips were moving down her neck until they settled over her taut nipple.