Page 26 of Wrapped in Hope
He turns around and takes the bottle, replacing the cap and setting it on the counter, far out of my reach.
“Let me help you. I can’t help my wife, but I can help you if you let me.” His blue-green eyes have darkened the way Dean’s used to. They are intense and unmoving as he watches me.
A puff of air leaves my lips as a menacing sounding laugh escapes me. “And how do you intend on doing that? I’ve tried everything. Nothing works. I’m a lost cause.”
He shakes his head with annoyance as he’s leaning against the counter, crossing his arms over his big chest. “I don’t ever want to hear you say that again. Do you understand me?” He walks closer as he looks down on me.
My eyes seek his automatically, somewhere deep inside of me longs for his approval. I nod.
He takes a deep breath before leaning against the counter again. “We’ll get you into a routine. We will focus on making you stronger, mentally and physically. What do you say?”
I feel my eyebrow lift. “You mean working out?”
“You’d be surprised how much aggression it can take out. It will give you something else to focus on.”
I lean against the island in the middle of the kitchen and cross my arms over my chest while I think it over.
Maybe he’s right. Maybe I do just need to fill my time. Get healthy and let the healing come as it may.
I nod my head slowly. “Okay, I’ll give it a try.”
He gives me a breathtaking smile that makes every muscle in my body harden, trying to hold back the flood of desire that’s washing over me. “Good, the first thing to go, is this.” He picks up the bottle of vodka.
“That’s not mine. It’s my roommate’s.”
He looks at the bottle in his hand. “Then put it away. I better not see you with it again.” He holds it out for me to take.
I feel like his stern warning should sound as if my dad has spoken the request, but it doesn’t. It feels like he’s dominating me and a small part of me wants more. It makes the hair on the back of my neck stand at attention. Just his demands cause goosebumps to break out across my skin.
I take the bottle and put it back in the cabinet. “So when does this new workout start?” I turn back around to face him. I watch as he runs his big, callused hand through the silky strands of his raven colored hair. “Today. First thing we’re going to do is go to a meeting where you can tell your story.”
My head shakes vigorously. “No way. Not yet. Not today. I’m not strong enough for that yet. I need to build up to it.” Just thinking about sitting in the circle, telling a bunch of strangers why I’m so damaged causes anxiety to bubble up in my throat like acid. It burns and stings, and makes my throat feel like it’s closing up.
I hold onto the counter so I don’t fall over. I didn’t even realize I’d stopped breathing with the pain that thought brought on.
“Alright. Okay.” He places his hands on my shoulders to calm me. But all it does is make me more anxious. Every little touch from him feels like it’s searing my skin, like he’s claiming each and every piece me.
He dips his head forward in an attempt to look me in the eye. “We can build up to that. How about we just head to the gym. Let you work off some of this anxiety and pent up aggression.”
I nod while taking deep breaths to try and calm myself. “Okay. Just let me change first,” I say, whispering the words around my labored breathing from the near anxiety attack I just had.
He releases me and I slowly walk toward my room to change. When I’m alone in my space, I sit on the edge of the bed, bending over to hold my head in my hands. I need to pull it together. I feel like everything in my life is unraveling around me. I lost the love of my life. I’ve lived five years when all I’ve wanted to do is die. And now I’m having extremely confusing feelings about Holden. I would be worried if I was having feelings for a guy I met here on campus, but the fact that I’m having feelings about the guy who raised my dead boyfriend, that’s a whole different can of worms.
I take several deep breaths, trying to clear my head and talk my way out of the mess I’m buried in.
These aren’t real feelings I’m having for Holden. It’s just a mess of emotions that’s confusing me. The feeling I get when we touch is nothing more than the connection I used to have with Dean. His eyes, his smell, I like it because it reminds me of someone I’ve missed for five years. It’s nothing more. Once I realize that, they will go away. Don’t touch him. Push Dean from your mind and everything I think I feel about Holden will fall away too.
With those thoughts, I push myself up and dig around for something to wear to the gym. I’ve never been one to work out. The only gym clothes I have are the ones I bought to lounge around the house in. I finally find a pair of yoga pants, and I pull them on. I get lucky and find a sports bra that’s hidden in the bottom of my drawer. I match it with a dark gray tank top that hangs loose under my arms, revealing my sports bra and sides. I tie my dark hair up into a knot and step from the room.
Holden is standing next to the front door, looking over my bookshelf. His eyes are trained on the last picture Dean and I took. The one at the cabin where we’re both looking at each other, lost in one another’s eyes.
“Are you ready?” I ask as I come to a stop beside him.
He quickly pulls his eyes away from the framed photograph and nods while motioning toward the door.
* * *
We stepinto the gym and the place is nearly empty. There are only a couple of guys lifting weights while the rest of the machines are free. I’m glad there aren’t many people in here. I already feel like I have a giant spotlight on me.