Текст книги "Coming Home"

Автор книги: Priscilla Glenn

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 25 страниц)

“I hope this was worth the trek down here,” he whispered.

She turned her head to look up at him, her eyes wide with shock and her hands still clamped over her mouth. He smiled gently before urging her forward, and she turned back around and dropped to her knees, her hands falling from her mouth as she ran them over the rough concrete.

She dragged them over the jagged LM that had been etched in the stone. She used her fingertip to trace the CM and SM next to it.

And then she reached the DM.

She didn’t trace it. Instead, she just pressed the pads of her fingers into the grooves, as if she could somehow embed the initials into her skin. Leah carefully slid her hand up until it sank into the indentation of her mother’s handprint.

It was a perfect fit now.

A soft sob fell from her lips, and she was suddenly aware of his hand on her back, rubbing gently as he crouched behind her.

“I repaved that yard last fall because some of the blocks sank in, and there were raised edges all over the place. I was afraid Gram was gonna trip over one.” He continued rubbing up and down her back, his voice a soothing murmur as he said, “I spent the entire day breaking up the concrete in the yard, but I couldn’t do it to this one. The little handprints, with the big one…”

He trailed off, and Leah felt him run his hand over the back of her hair. “It just hit a nerve with me. So I got a crowbar, and I pried it up. I didn’t know what to do with it, but I just couldn’t junk it. I ended up burying it under some stuff in Gram’s basement. She never even knew I did it.”

Leah hiccupped on another sob, and he ran his hand down her hair again. “When you told me about this at The Cheesecake Factory, I wanted to tell you. I really did. But I wasn’t sure it was still there, or if it was still in one piece, and I just wanted to make sure before I got your hopes up. I went down to Gram’s and brought it up here while you were at the wedding this weekend.”

Leah stared at her hand resting in the imprint of her mother’s, and she said the only thing she could think of to say, even though it didn’t come close to expressing what she was feeling.

“Thank you,” she whispered as two more tears rolled over her cheeks.

“You’re welcome,” he said, his voice soft, and then she felt him press his lips to her temple before he stood. “I’ll bring this up to you whenever you want it.”

Leah sat there for another few minutes, letting her fingers meander over every dip, every bump, every line. Danny stood behind her, allowing her the silence and time she needed.

Finally she stood, turning to look at him for the first time, and his eyes met hers as he ran the backs of his fingers over her cheek, wiping away the remnants of her tears.

“Are you ready to go back upstairs?”

She nodded, and he held his hand out for her to take. “It’s gonna be really dark out there again because your eyes are used to the light. Just hold my hand. We’ll walk quick, okay?”

She nodded again, and he clasped her hand before he reached above them and pulled the string, submerging them in darkness. They walked the few steps out into the hall, and Leah stood behind him, holding his hand in both of hers as he locked the storage unit before they made their way back toward the elevator.

They rode the entire way back up to Danny’s floor in silence, but the air between them seemed to sizzle and crackle with electricity. She kept sneaking fleeting glances at him, wondering if he could feel it—the current in the air that made every hair on her body stand on end. By the time the doors opened, her heart was racing, and she was struggling to keep her breathing even.

They walked to his door in silence, and she stood behind him as he fumbled awkwardly with his keys. She heard him inhale slowly, and she reached forward, bringing her hands to the sides of his waist as she pressed her lips to the back of his shoulder.

His head fell forward as the breath left him in a rush, and his hand tightened around his keys for a moment before he lifted his head and opened the door.

Danny tossed the keys onto the entryway table as he walked briskly into his apartment, and Leah took a step inside and closed the door softly behind her, leaning back against it with her eyes trained on him. He was standing a few feet ahead of her, his back to her and his head down.

“Danny,” she said gently, and his shoulders rose with a slow breath before he lifted his head, turning to face her.

They stood there, motionless, both staring at the other.

And then he moved.

With three long strides, he was suddenly in front of her, grabbing her face as he crashed his mouth to hers.

Leah’s hands slid up under his arms, gripping the backs of his shoulders and pulling him against her as her heart thundered in her chest.

It was like their first kiss all over again; the second his lips touched hers, a thousand butterflies exploded in her stomach, sending searing tingles down her spine and across her skin.

His hands left her face as he wrapped his arms around her waist, hoisting her up and causing their lips to break contact, and Leah wrapped her legs around his hips as he buried his face against the side of her neck.

“Leah,” he said roughly, pressing her back against the door before kissing the skin just below her ear, and she tilted her head to the side, giving him better access.

Her breathing quickly grew labored as he lavished her throat with attention, kissing up the column of her neck and over her chin until their mouths met again. She slid her hands up into his hair and curled them into fists. He rewarded her with a throaty moan against her mouth, and then his hands were clutching the backs of her thighs as he spun abruptly and began stumbling through his apartment.

She continued to kiss him, panting and sighing into his mouth as his fingertips dug into the flesh of her thighs. Her shoulder hit something and it crashed to the floor, but he kept his pace, staggering blindly through the living room until finally they turned into his bedroom.

Leah assumed he was taking them to the bed until her back hit the wall with a thud, and all at once she could feel how hard he was—the incredible, firm pressure between her legs.

She ripped her mouth from his and gasped, and he groaned deep in his throat.

“We have to stop,” he said, kissing down the side of her neck and over her collarbone, interspersing his kisses with little nips that lit her skin on fire and set off a steady throbbing low in her belly. Her hips moved of their own volition, rolling against his, seeking friction.

“Leah, we have to stop,” he panted, but he pressed his hips back into hers, eliciting a low moan from her lips.

“Oh God,” she breathed, tightening her legs around his hips before bringing her mouth back to his.

He kissed her hard, gripping her waist before lifting her slightly, and Leah unwrapped her legs from his body before sliding down the wall. Danny kept his hands firmly on her sides as she slipped down the front of his body, causing her shirt to lift slightly. He seemed to hesitate for just a second before she felt his fingers curl under the hem, and in one swift movement, he pulled it up and over her head.

“Goddamn it,” he said hoarsely as he brought his hands back to her body, cupping her breasts as he leaned down and kissed along the lacy edge of her bra, and Leah slipped her hands up under his shirt, lightly raking her nails down his stomach. He hissed in pleasure before claiming her mouth again, his kisses shifting from passionate to desperate.

Leah reached forward, hooking her fingers in the front of his jeans and giving him a firm tug, bringing his hips flush with hers again. She could feel how badly he wanted her, and the knowledge alone made her entire body ache.

“We can’t,” he murmured against her mouth, placing his hand on her bare stomach and pushing her back slightly, and Leah gripped his wrist and slid his hand down the flat plane of her abdomen until his fingertips dipped under the waist of her jeans.

“Shit,” he breathed, and she felt the muscles in his forearm flex in protest for just a moment before he plunged his hand down, sliding beneath her panties. He touched her gently, and that single cautious stroke sent bolts of electricity rocketing up through her body. She sucked in a sharp breath as she threw her head back, slamming it against the wall. Under any other circumstance, she knew it would have hurt, but the only thing she could feel was the pressure of his touch right where she needed it, slowly working her into a frenzy.

She moaned softly, writhing against his hand, and he dropped his head to her shoulder. “Jesus Christ,” he rasped out. “Leah, please.”

He began to remove his hand from her pants, and she grabbed the sides of his face, pulling his mouth back to hers and kissing him with every ounce of want he had awakened and revived and kindled inside of her. Never before had she been so aware of the thin line between pleasure and pain. Every touch, every kiss, felt so incredibly good, and yet her desire for him was agonizing.

“Danny,” she breathed against his mouth. “We don’t have to stop. I want you.”

She felt his body tense, and then he pulled away from her abruptly, taking two quick steps backward before he sat on the edge of his bed and ran both hands down his face. “I can’t, Leah.”

“Please,” she said, her chest heaving with her labored breath. She realized she should have been embarrassed at her behavior, at the fact that she was begging, but she was too wild with desire to care. She wanted him. She wanted to touch every inch of him. She wanted to hear his sighs and his moans and her name on his lips. She wanted to make him feel that good.

He dropped his hands from his face, gripping the edge of the bed on either side of him, but he wouldn’t look at her. She took the tiniest step toward him, and a muscle in the side of his jaw flexed before he said, “I think you should go.”

She froze, unsure if she had heard him correctly. Several seconds passed, but he still wouldn’t look at her. He sat there with his eyes trained on the floor and that muscle in the side of his jaw flexing over and over.

“You want me to leave?” she asked, her breath still unsteady, and he closed his eyes.

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

Leah continued to stare at him, and as the intensity of the moment dissipated and her desire slowly ebbed, she realized how exposed she was—physically and emotionally. She crossed her arms over her uncovered breasts, turning to scan the floor for her shirt, and as soon as she found it, she bent and scooped it up, holding it over her chest as she walked swiftly from the room.

Once outside, she pulled her shirt over her head as she passed through the dining room, grabbing her purse from the floor and her cell phone from the table. Just as she walked out the front door, she heard a sharp bang that sounded like Danny had hit something.

Leah bypassed the elevator and went directly to the stairwell, refusing to chance the possibility that he would come out while she was still waiting for it to arrive.

Her body was responding to what he had asked, carrying her down the steps, bringing her out to her car, starting it up and putting it in drive; she was going through the physical motions of leaving, but her mind felt like it was on a time delay. It was such an abrupt and jarring shift to go from swimming in desire that potent to drowning in rejection, and her thoughts were still scrambling to catch up. And she knew that when it happened, when she finally began to process what had just transpired between them, she would want to be as far away from this place as possible.

Leah cranked the radio, trying to put some noise in her head. She just wanted a little more time before she was forced to think. With the unnecessarily loud music eradicating any possibility of it, she focused only on the curve of the road, the white and yellow lines rushing toward her windshield, the taillights of other cars, and she sank into the comforting numbness of it all.

When she pulled into her parking space and cut the engine, somehow the sudden silence seemed even louder than the music it had replaced, and she sat there staring out of the windshield, trying for a few more minutes to keep her thoughts at bay.

The double beep of her phone snapped her out of her daze, and she reached into her purse apathetically, pulling it out and glancing at the screen.

One new message from Danny.

I’m so sorry Leah. That wasn’t about u, it was about me.

A breathy laugh fell from her lips as she tossed the phone back into her purse. He’d had almost an hour, and the best he could come up with was the “it’s not you, it’s me” routine?

She shook her head as she exited the car, and a rush of cold air hit her in the face, pulling her from her fog and forcing her to feel. And then it all hit her at once.

Confusion. Rejection. Embarrassment. Resignation.

As she entered her apartment and walked straight back to her bedroom, she was certain of two things: she had feelings for Danny, and his issues went far deeper than she initially thought.

In another time, in another life, she may have been able to tough this out with him, to ride out the storm and let him figure himself out while she sat on the sidelines, rolling with the punches and taking a few hits every now and then. But Leah knew she didn’t have it in her to do that now. She promised herself that she would never let a guy screw her around again, and while she knew Danny and Scott weren’t even close to being cut from the same cloth, the bottom line was, he obviously wasn’t ready for what she wanted.

The back and forth, the push and pull, the mixed signals—she had thought they were past all that after their conversation last weekend, but apparently that wasn’t the case. And she valued herself too much to be treated that way, even if she knew it wasn’t coming from someplace malicious. She wouldn’t allow herself to settle for something less than what she wanted, or to wait around hoping for something she might never get.

Life was too short, and she’d already wasted so much time.

Holly had been right; she had gone too fast with Danny. There were things he needed to figure out, broken pieces of his life he needed to fix. And she needed to walk away and allow him to do it. It would be best for both of them at this point. And maybe when he figured everything out, when he could give her one hundred percent of himself, they could try again.

Leah kicked off her shoes and pulled the blanket up over herself, not even bothering to change out of her clothes.

She knew what it felt like to care about him, what it felt like to want him so badly it erased all rational thought from her mind.

And as she closed her eyes, she began dreading what it would feel like to miss him.

He couldn’t believe he was doing this.

Danny closed his eyes and shook his head as he grabbed the pen, scribbling down Leah’s address before he closed the lid on his laptop.

It was bad enough to look up a girl’s address online, but to do it so he could show up at her place uninvited? It didn’t get much creepier than that.

He ran both hands down his face as he exhaled, because in the past twenty-four hours, he’d managed to be both a tease and an asshole, so creep wasn’t really that far of a stretch.

He had texted her twice last night after his initial apology, once asking her to let him know she made it home okay, and the other a few hours later, asking if he could call her in the morning so they could talk. She hadn’t answered either one, and he’d gotten the worst sleep of his life because of it.

He just wanted to explain what had happened the night before. Even if she decided she never wanted to speak to him again, she still deserved an explanation.

He’d already had plans to go in to work late that morning, but now he was debating going in at all. It wasn’t just the fact that he was exhausted—he could work through that. It was because he was completely miserable, and he didn’t feel like dealing with Jake or Tommy or anyone else who would try to get to the bottom of what was up with him.

Instead, he spent the morning lying on his couch, running through all the ways he could have handled things differently last night. He’d heard the saying hindsight was twenty-twenty, but that wasn’t accurate.

Hindsight was a stupid motherfucking asshole.

At around ten o’clock, his phone went off with a text message, and despite the hours he spent warning himself not to get his hopes up, he couldn’t help but feel defeated when he read her words. She told him she wasn’t mad at him, but she just needed some space—that it would be best for both of them if they took a break for a while.

As much as it killed him to do it, at first he complied. He didn’t text her back, figuring that after disrespecting her the night before, the least he could do was respect her wishes now. After all, she didn’t say it was over; she just said she wanted some distance for a while.

But the problem was, he didn’t know if he had a while to give her.

Which ironically brought him full circle, because that was exactly why he shouldn’t have started anything with her in the first place. It was as if the universe was sending him a reminder: Hey, asshole, you should have left her alone to begin with, but since you apparently have no self-control, I’m making the decision for you.

About an hour later, he finally decided to get up and go to work; he needed a distraction, and working in the garage was something that always succeeded in clearing his head.

But when Danny got to his front door, he noticed her jacket, still hanging where he had draped it the night before, and he stopped with his hand on the knob.

Did she realize she’d left it there? She hadn’t mentioned it in her text. But then again, her text wasn’t exactly conversational. Should he message her and tell her he had it? Or would she think he was just making a pathetic attempt at trying to speak to her? Although, how could it be a pathetic attempt if the jacket really was at his place?

Danny closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

He couldn’t do this—this overanalyzing every fucking thing until his head was spinning. And he definitely couldn’t look at that jacket every time he walked in and out of his apartment for the next few weeks.

And just like that, his decision was made. There was an easy solution to both of those problems.

He was going to go to her. He would give her back the coat, and he would tell her everything. Not just why he did what he did last night.

Everything.

He was going to lay all his cards out on the table and deal with the consequences, and if her desire for a temporary break turned permanent, well then, wasn’t that what he had been expecting from the beginning? There was no point in prolonging the inevitable anymore.

So he looked up her address. And then he sat on his couch, staring at the floor with the piece of paper in his hand and a lump of foreboding in his stomach.

He’d never had to tell anyone what he was about to tell her. The people who were important to him already knew, and those who weren’t read about it or heard about it second or third or fourth hand. But he’d never had to say the words—and he knew that somehow, saying them to her was going to make it a thousand times harder.

He pushed off the couch and walked toward the front door, grabbing her coat and his keys before he made his way downstairs. After programming her address into his GPS, he turned the radio off and started driving.

Danny spent the first half of the drive practicing what he was going to say, playing with the words to try and soften their effect, but it was a senseless exercise; any way he said it, it was horrible. In fact, the more he heard it out loud, the more awful it became until finally he cranked the radio and drove the rest of the way listening to some insipid pop music countdown.

By the time he was walking up the small pathway to her front door, his anxiety had transitioned into a sense of urgency; he just wanted to get it over with and deal with the end result, whatever it might be.

Danny took a small breath before he knocked on her door. It was a minute before he heard the sound of someone approaching from the other side, and then there was silence. He knew she must be looking through the peephole to see who was outside, but he couldn’t bring himself to lift his eyes.

The silence wore on, and for a second he thought she wouldn’t open the door. But then he heard the deadbolt slide back before she pulled the door open slightly, and he raised his eyes to hers.

Her expression was smooth as she looked at him.

Guarded.

“What are you doing here?” she asked softly.

Danny wet his lips before he held up her jacket, and she glanced down at it before bringing her eyes back to him.

“Thanks,” she said, reaching to take it from him, and he handed it over before shoving both hands in his pockets.

“I’m ready to tell you everything, Leah.”

The tiniest flicker of surprise flashed across her face before she composed her expression again, folding her jacket over her arm.

“I know I don’t deserve it,” he said, “but just hear me out. After that, if you want nothing to do with me, I promise I won’t ever bother you again.”

She stood there in silence, her eyes searching his face, and then she bit her lip before she stepped to the side, granting him access to her apartment.

He walked past her and into her living room, the nerves temporarily winning out over his resolve, and he reached up and rubbed the back of his neck as he heard her close the door behind him.

“How did you know where I lived?”

Danny jammed his hands in his pockets again. “I looked you up,” he said as he turned to face her. “I’m sorry. You weren’t answering my texts, and to be honest, I thought if I asked, you would’ve told me not to come, and I had to come. I can’t do this anymore. The partial truths and the bullshit and the secrets.”

She sighed softly, laying her coat over a nearby chair before she motioned for him to sit down. Danny lowered himself onto the edge of her couch, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees as he dropped his head.

A few seconds later, he heard her come into the room, and he looked up as she curled into the chaise lounger next to him, her eyes on the hem of her sweatshirt as she twisted it between her fingers.

He took a deep breath before he shifted to face her, and her fingers stilled as she glanced up at him.

“Last night,” Danny started, and her eyes instantly dropped. “I’m really sorry about the way I handled that.”

Her eyes were still pinned on her sweatshirt, but Danny could see her cheeks flooding with color.

“It wasn’t that I didn’t want you. I did. I wanted you so fucking bad. I still do.”

Leah’s eyes flashed up, her expression taken aback, and he felt his shoulders soften.

“Did you really think it was because I didn’t want you?”

She shrugged. “What else was I supposed to think?”

He exhaled heavily before dragging both hands down his face. “God, I’m an asshole,” he mumbled. “You have to understand something, Leah. You had just told me you hadn’t dated anyone, hadn’t been with anyone in two years, and then you wanted me. It didn’t matter how bad I wanted you. I couldn’t do it. Not before you knew the truth. You were making a decision without having all the information. I didn’t want you to regret being with me, and there’s a good chance that after you hear what I’m about to tell you, you would have. And I refuse to be another reason for you to doubt yourself.”

Danny leaned back against the couch, running both hands up through his hair as he said, “I’m sorry I asked you to leave the way I did, but Jesus Christ, Leah, I only have so much self-control. I was trying so hard to do the right thing, but the way you were looking at me…and the way you were kissing me…and then hearing you say please.” He closed his eyes and exhaled, the memory causing his stomach to flip in a way that had nothing to do with nerves. “I didn’t know how much longer I could hold out with you right in front of me. I was hanging on by a fucking thread as it was,” he said, rubbing his hand over his eyes.

He heard her shift slightly, and he turned his head to look at her.

“Just tell me,” she said softly.

Danny nodded as he sat up slowly, turning toward her. “You asked me once why I kept pulling away from you. Why I said it was a problem that I had feelings for you.” He took a steadying breath. “It’s because there’s a good chance I’ll be leaving soon.”

“Where are you going?”

Fuck. Just say it.

He swallowed around the knot in his throat as his eyes met hers. “Prison.”

She sat completely still for a few seconds before she closed her eyes and pressed her fingertips into her temples. She looked more confused than upset, although Danny knew that was about to change.

“What did you do?” she said weakly.

Danny knotted his fingers together as he said, “I didn’t plan on it, Leah, and I didn’t mean to do it.”

She dropped her hands as she opened her eyes. “What did you do?” she repeated more firmly.

He took a deep breath before he said, “Bryan isn’t dead.”

Her eyes flew to his; there was fury behind them, and he held up his hand quickly. “I didn’t lie, Leah. He’s alive because machines do everything for him. Pump his heart, make him breathe, give him food. His body is alive, but he’s gone. He’s been gone for a year. There’s no brain activity. There’s nothing left. It’s just that Gram can’t let him go, because she’s still hoping. But he’s gone.”

Leah stared at him, her eyes softening slightly before she shook her head. “What does that have to do with you going to prison?”

Danny leaned forward, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes. It physically hurt to say these words. He had known it would be hard, but he hadn’t expected physical pain. It felt like his chest was caving in.

“The night it happened, I was with him. We were hanging out at this bar in Manhattan, and Bryan kept ordering round after round of Alabama Slammers.” He smiled sadly before he said, “That was his shot. He’d always start the night off with one, but that night he just kept going. And I went right along with him.

“At some point during the night, these three guys came up to us. We had no clue who they were, but apparently they knew this girl that Bryan used to mess around with. So the one guy started with Bryan, talking about how he was gonna make Bryan sorry for fucking his girl. The bartender was quick, though. The whole thing got broken up before it could come to blows, and the guys were asked to leave because they were the ones who instigated the whole thing.”

Danny rubbed his hand over his forehead before he said, “So they left, and we went about our business. We didn’t even think twice about it. Typical drunk assholes at a bar. We’d seen it a million times. Hell, we’d been them a few times. Nothing out of the ordinary, you know?”

She nodded gently, and he said, “By the time the bar was closing, we were both pretty fucked up, and I went to the bathroom—” He stopped suddenly, his jaw flexing in rapid succession as he rode out the sharp pain in his chest.

Danny cleared his throat. “I went to the bathroom, and when I came out, it was just chaos. And I knew. I just fucking knew. Some people were moving toward it, and some were trying to move away, but after a few steps, I could see them over the tops of people’s heads—the same guys from earlier. I don’t know how they got back in. They must’ve known a bouncer or something, because it didn’t make any sense why no one was trying to break it up this time.” Danny shook his head. “And if I hadn’t gone to the bathroom, or if we hadn’t been so fucking drunk…” His jaw tightened again as he felt rage and regret start to trickle through his veins, and it was a moment before he could speak again.

He glanced up at Leah; she was staring at him with equal parts sympathy and dread, like she knew where this story was going. And even though he knew that she didn’t, he grabbed on to the small thread of compassion she’d thrown him and pulled himself through the rest of the story.

“He couldn’t hold his own,” he said hoarsely. “Bryan was wasted, and there were three of them. And I had to get through that goddamn crowd.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “I could see everything, but I couldn’t get there fast enough. Bryan got hit and went down, and one of the guys kicked him hard in the side of the head. Right in his temple.”

He saw Leah press her fist to her mouth as she shook her head slightly.

“And I lost it,” he said. “I charged the guy, and we went over a table and through the front window of the bar.” He looked down and flexed his hand, watching his scars expand and contract with the movement. “I don’t remember a lot after that. I remember hitting the ground outside. And the broken glass. And the blood all over my hands. I had no idea where it was coming from.”

He looked up at her; her fist was still pressed against her lips, but her eyes were welled with tears. “And the next thing I knew, I was being thrown over the hood of a cop car and cuffed. They were reading me my rights, telling me to remain silent, and I just kept shouting at them to go help Bryan.”

Danny pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes again as they began to sting, and he took a slow breath before continuing. “They took me to a station and put me in a cell, and no one would tell me what happened. No one would tell me.” He shook his head slowly. “A few hours later, they came in and said I had made bail. I walked out to the vestibule, and Gram was there.”

He dropped his head back against the couch and closed his eyes. “And she just crumpled in my arms and started wailing. And then I knew.”

Danny heard her move beside him, and before he could open his eyes, she was crawling onto his lap, wrapping her arms around him as she buried her face into his neck.

He snaked his arms around her waist and pulled her against his body. Even though he knew the worst was yet to come, she felt so good in his arms that he couldn’t stop himself. He needed this right now. He needed her.