Breaking the Habit Read online

  “You two are made for each other,” Carter scoffed, his nose wrinkling with disappointment. “You could get married and live broodingly ever after.”

  “Marriage?” I snorted. “No thank you.” At the mention of the institution, my headache returned with vengeance. Carter, however, perked up over my antagonism.

  “What’ve you got against marriage?”

  “What about you, Carter?” I asked instead, deflecting the question. “When are you going to settle down?”

  “When I find the right one.”

  “How do you know you haven’t met her already? For all you know she could be right under your nose.” Mattie was right; in terms of love, he was blind as a bat.

  “Don’t I know it,” Carter muttered. Disgruntled, he scrubbed his chin, falling uncharacteristically silent. I couldn’t bring myself to feel guilty. If he was going to dish out a ration of shit, he better be prepared to eat a serving himself.

  As we coasted onto the State Highway, the roads cleared measurably. I breathed a sigh of relief, staring out the fogged window. By early afternoon, I’d be home, although, it would actually be early evening with the time difference.

  Going back to work after three weeks of leave was going to bite. I’d used up the very last of my vacation and sick time. If I didn’t return Monday morning, I would lose my position. My employer was lenient, but she had a business to run. It was nothing personal.

  Things would return to normal. I’d fall back into routine. Work. Solitude. Work. Solitude. Work. Solitude. God, I was seriously going to miss Coop and Levy. Garrison, I wasn’t going to think about. He’d made his feelings clear.

  About a month ago, I’d broken down and confronted him about my feelings for him. I hadn’t meant to fall for the guy. He was my landlord. And I wasn’t looking for a relationship of any kind. Nonetheless, I had falled for him. I’d fallen for the whole lifestyle, the quiet country life. The peace. The sunny afternoons. The lazy evenings. The desolate nights were what ensnared me. Lying there listening to the sound of crickets, I would imagine him coming to me, taking me in the silence.

  The seclusion I craved, after my relationship with Tommy ended, became a self-imposed sentence. I could take the solitude no longer. I yearned for companionship, for physical and mental reciprocity.

  I had helped Garrison with stalls that day. While he finished the last of them, I had gone to my apartment above the stable and fixed a pot of coffee. The weather was cold and raw, and the warmth needed. He was sipping at a cup when I reached for a blade of straw sticking from his hair and seized the opportunity to steal a kiss. His initial reaction was promising, but it hadn’t lasted. He’d pulled away. The following days, he had treated me like a pariah or the plague, avoiding me at all costs. It was obvious he didn’t share the sentiment.

  Our time together had come to an end.

  Coop was gone. We’d accomplished what we’d set out to do. She was safe with Tate and on her way to a better life. Garrison had never been comfortable with the idea of our circumvention from the start. He’d only housed Coop and I out of guilt, which was cultivated by the death of his girlfriend. He’d lost Melanie to violence and wasn’t coping well. He’d come to the group for help and advice. He felt as though he’d failed by not protecting her, by not believing the depth or danger of her situation. Instead of easing his mind, we’d burdened him with Cooper’s tribulations. It wasn’t fair, pressuring him to involve himself when he was barely over his own trauma. I wanted him to live in peace. It was clear that I couldn’t give that to him. The next morning, I packed my things and left.

  “Whatever,” Carter said, pulling me from my ruminations. “My case is hopeless, and talking about you is more entertaining.”

  “For who?”

  “Me.”

  “I’m glad that you can take entertainment in my personal life.”

  “That’s the joke, though,” Carter scoffed. “Yours doesn’t need to be difficult. Everything’s so simple, and you—”

  “Simple?” I interjected, annoyed. “You don’t know anything about me! What makes you think that anything about my life is simple?”

  “Ok, so it’s complicated.”

  “More than you could ever imagine.”

  “Why?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  “Why are you getting all up in her shit?” Shane jumped in. “I’m not going to tell you again; leave her the fuck alone.”

  “Do you see what I mean?” Carter persisted. “You reject the guy and he’s still sticking up for you. That is loyalty.”

  “Just so that you’re aware, Carter,” I said, spelling things out for him, “the more you pressure me, the harder I dig in my heels.”

  “Seriously?” The look I gave him left no room for doubt. He turned to Shane in apology. “Looks like you’ve got your work cut out for you, man.”

  We drove the remaining five minutes in peace, though my headache began to transform from an annoyance to an unyielding pounding. I could actually feel each beat of my heart from the back of my neck all the way to my frontal lobe.

  Pulling into the airport, we had no time to spare. I slid from the truck, wincing at the jolt of my feet hitting the ground. I just had to make it the next half hour. Once on the plane, I would have five or six hours to sleep it off.

  “Are you sure you’re ok?” Shane asked again, ever observantly.

  “Just a small headache, but that could be attributed to Carter’s nagging.” Nevertheless, he took my carry-on and hooked it over his shoulder with his own bag. When I didn’t get ten feet from the vehicle without slipping again, he grasped my arm and practically carried me too. This, contrary to his assumption, helped very little. I felt sturdier on my own two feet. My toes skimmed across the ground, trying to keep up with his pace. Behind me, Carter sniggered. I considered shooting him the bird, but I refrained for the sake of keeping my balance on the wet and icy pavement.

  “I didn’t put him up to that,” Shane said quietly. He was oblivious to my gait, either too nervous to notice or just that daft. I was leaning toward nervous. He was, in fact, perceptive. He wasn’t the outgoing type. He was the silent type.

  “Really?” I said, dryly, “I thought perhaps you had a group meeting. Everyone and their mother has been going to bat for you.”

  This brought him up short. “What?” He glanced down at me once and then again, finally took note of my heaving chest, and slowed his pace.

  “First Nolan and then Marshall; now Diane, Coop and Carter. I’m sure the rest would’ve chimed in if they weren’t so busy. Do you mind?” I prompted, tugging my arm from his grasp. I rubbed the feeling back into it as best as I could through my down coat, and then grasped the fold of his arm. Shane looked at my hand, which was currently squeezing his bicep. “Oh, Dio Mio, sorry.”

  “Drumming,” he explained. “It’s a workout.”

  “I’ll say.” I’d seen him on stage. It was one hell of a cardio workout with all four limbs moving chaotically at the same time. Honestly, though, he could’ve had the density of Jell-O and I would’ve been equally impressed. I was working toward a five-year dry spell.

  Pebbles of salt crunched under my feet. The wind whipped against my back, raising goosebumps across my skin, my clothing still damp from my fall earlier. All of this faded away as my cheeks flushed red over my blunder in etiquette.

  “You know what?” Shane asked, breaking the silence.

  “What?”

  Shane, to my surprise, leaned in, close to my ear. “The rest of me is in just as good of shape.”

  “And here I thought you were shy.”

  “When the need calls for it, I can be forward.”

  “What are you two smiling at?” Carter inquired, loping to catch up. “You’re awfully chummy all the sudden.” He was like a child, intrinsically curious.

  “Em was just telling me that—” I jerked my hand from Shane’s arm, stopping him short. I made a point to look at Carter and back at Shane, fei
gning furtiveness.

  “Don’t tell him a thing,” I warned. “I told you I promised Coop I wouldn’t say anything!”

  For a moment, Shane looked baffled, but he played it off. “What’s the big deal?” It was a general statement, giving nothing away. He definitely wasn’t daft. “It’s not like it’s true.”

  Again, I glanced askance at Carter. “You know how she is about all that superstitious stuff. Fate, you know, she’s afraid she’ll misalign something. It’s all ridiculous if you ask me, a bunch of crap for romantics.”

  The thing was…when Cooper woke up in the hospital after the brawl at the concert, she was heavily on meds, and hallucinating. Tate said that she had rattled off a bunch of names including those of her closest friends, claiming that we were all ‘tied’ together somehow. We were a caught in a ‘butterfly effect’ caused by her and Tate’s love. Carter had taken it to heart, but in my opinion, he was only looking for someone to fill Coop’s shoes since she was off the market.

  “Coop didn’t tell you anything. You’re messing with me,” Carter said, calling my bluff. “You’re pissed off because I harassed you in the truck.”

  I nodded exaggeratedly, rolling my eyes. Bad idea. It really made my head swim and the pounding to intensify. “You’re right, Carter, you see right through me. I was stupid to ever try to fool you.”

  Shane, upping the ante, mouthed to Carter over his shoulder, “She’s mine, mother fucker, stay the hell away from her.” He wrapped his arm around my waist and tucked me against his side, as if claiming his territory.

  I almost choked, but I stumbled instead. Carter burst out laughing, and passed us. “Me and her—no way,” he said over his shoulder. “Now I know you’re pulling my leg.” Shaking with laughter, he strode ahead, glancing occasionally over his shoulder.

  “What did you tell him that for?” I hissed. The last thing I needed was to be the sole focus of Carter Strickland’s attention.

  “Cause it’ll eat at him.”

  “He didn’t even believe you!”

  “He’s bluffing. Watch. He’s thinking about it right now.” Sure enough, Carter glanced over his shoulder again. When he turned back around, he shook his head and scrubbed at his chin. “See?”

  “Again, I ask why you would tell him that?”

  “Because you’re not interested in him.”

  “What makes you so sure of that?”

  “Because he’s not right for you either. Like I said, I am.”

  Chapter 4

  So, Shane was right. I probably had a concussion. Ok…I definitely had a concussion. All the symptoms were present, dizziness, nausea, light and noise sensitivity, drowsiness, and irritability. I wanted to die, really and truly die. Even the bubble of my own private universe wasn’t far enough to escape the pain.

  If the migraine didn’t kill me, embarrassment should’ve done the trick. I was certain of it. Yet, my pitiful existence continued even after Shane stood up from his seat and walked row to row along first class, searching for a doctor.

  Fat lot of good it did me when he came back with a proctologist. I ended up with a handful of acetaminophen and the brunt of Carter’s jokes. Neither helped to alleviate the pain. I was tempted to dive off the plane just to escape Carter’s quips. He was the epitome of obnoxious, with a sharp tongue and cool wit.

  “Just tell us when,” Shane prompted from the passenger seat. Carter was driving the rental, while I sat slumped against the back seat. I lifted my head and peaked from between my lashes, squinting against the oncoming headlights.

  “Right there,” I answered, “I’m above the coffee shop.”

  “Homey,” Carter observed. He had no idea how wrong he was, and he wasn’t going to find out. Coop thought I was domesticated, but most of the stuff in my apartment at Garrison’s belonged to Garrison. He’d removed most of Melanie’s things from his house after her murder, unable to look at them any longer. I had just made use of them, and only at his suggestion.

  When I left, I hadn’t much to take, and despite my meager belongings, I hadn’t unpacked one single thing except for my clothes. I worked a ten hour day at the daycare center, and hung out in the coffee shop most of the evening. I had no company to entertain. I had no one to impress. I didn’t see the point.

  Cutting the wheel, Carter pulled up to the curb and shut the car down. “You don’t have to come in,” I said quickly. “I’ve got it.”

  “I was going to get a cup of coffee, actually.”

  “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” I said to myself. Sliding from the car, I slipped and sloshed through the slush piling along the curb. Carter came around the opposite side to open the tailgate.

  “You said you had it,” he pointed out.

  “I do.”

  “Then I can grab a coffee while Shane carries your things for you.” Leaning in close, as if I couldn’t hear, he added, “Because my boy Shane wants to get in your pants. I don’t.”

  “Are you trying to convince yourself of that, or me?”

  “Sweetheart, there ain’t a thing stirring down there. It’s as quiet as a dormouse on Christmas fucking Eve.”

  “Did you just compare your dick to a dormouse?” I pinched my lips together to keep from laughing. I really didn’t want to laugh. Just holding a conversation was enough to make me green in the gills. Nonetheless, if I had a chance to make a dig at Carter, I wasn’t about to pass it up. And let me tell you, his reaction was priceless. It was worth every ounce of pain.

  “What? No! That’s not what I said!”

  “Sure. Whatever.”

  I was reaching toward my first bag when Shane stretched around me, taking it first. “You don’t have to do that,” I said yet again. “I can get them myself.”

  “Unlike Carter, I’m a gentleman,” Shane commented. “And if I was, you know, the fated one, I would’ve offered you a coffee too.” With a wink and a smirk, he headed for my apartment. I rushed to catch up. My head trailed behind a few feet.

  “I appreciate your help, but you really don’t need to do that.”

  “Do you need to argue about everything?”

  “No.”

  “Then open the door and let me help you. You can barely hold your head up, let alone carry these up a flight of stairs.”

  “It has a stair lift,” I blurted desperately.

  Stopping mid-step, Shane turned. “It has a what?” His lips turned up in a faint smile. If I hadn’t felt like such crap, I might’ve flushed.

  “A stair lift.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. I only rented the place about a week before I came to Seattle. I didn’t have much time to shop around, and the price was right.”

  “I want to see it.” I scrabbled to keep up when he turned again for my apartment. His long-legged stride ate the ground.

  “It’s not that exciting.”

  “I’d like to be the judge.”

  Sighing, I gave in and slipped my key into the lock. I had to play with it before the pins would align and release. Only when I turned the knob, it didn’t open.

  “Broken?” Shane said.

  “It’s just old.” I crammed the key in and tried again, this time with success. I pulled the key from the lock again and pushed the door open with my foot. Shane strode in and placed the bags on the floor at the bottom of the stairs. “Wow, you really do have one. I thought you were yanking my chain.”

  “Nope.”

  “Have you tried it out?”

  “No.”

  “No better time than the present.” Climbing into the chair, Shane searched for the button to turn it on.

  “Come on, Shane,” I whined. Yes, I whined. I wasn’t proud of it, but I needed him out of my apartment. He couldn’t make it up those stairs. Unfortunately, he found the button he was searching for. With a clank and a whir, he began ascending the stairs. “Shane!”

  “What?” The chair stopped. I reached for his hand. If I had to use physical force, I was going to get him off that
chair. Regrettably, nothing was that simple. Instead, he tugged me onto his lap and pressed the button again. “Come on—I’ll give you a lift.”

  “Ha ha.”

  “Chill, Emily. We’re just going for a ride.”

  “I don’t remember inviting you up.”

  “That’s really rude. I just carried your bags inside for you, and that’s the kind of thanks I get? What happened to hospitality?”

  “Shane.”

  Leaning in, he brushed my hair to the side, exposing my neck. His breath tickled my skin. “I like it when you say my name.” Leisurely, he traced the column of my throat—without actually touching me—until his lips hovered above mine. He waited patiently for my permission, piercing me with those steely eyes.

  “I can’t—” get involved, I was going to say, but as fate would have it, the chair strained and jerked under our combined weight, sending our lips crashing together. I was quick to pull away, but Shane leaned with me, chasing the kiss.

  “You’re killing me,” he breathed. “I followed you across the continent, Emily. The least you could do is give me one little kiss.”

  “You did what?” Was he serious?

  “Do you really think I came here to hang out with Carter?” he asked, as if I were obtuse. “Think about it.”

  “Stai zitto.” Shut up. How articulate of me. I motioned to rise, but Shane tightened his grip around my waist.

  “When are you going to stop running from me?” Cupping the back of my neck, he guided my head down until our faces were a hair’s width apart. “Kiss me. Tell me you don’t feel anything between us. Christ, I’d settle for attraction for now. I’m desperate here.”

  Closing my eyes, I searched for inner strength. My mouth went dry. I licked my lips to summon some moisture. “Shane…”

  Taking that as consent, he pressed his lips to mine. At the first touch, confusion swept over me. His slips were warm, gentle, reverent. It wasn’t simply a physical kiss. It was as if he were kissing me. Me. To the depths of my soul.

  Tommy rarely kissed, and when he did, it was impersonal and completely one sided. It was more about the physical act. The only emotion involved was the claiming of his spousal rights. I was a possession for his use. Nothing more.