It Just Had to Be You

Chapter 7

Catalina

I'm not sure how we shifted into this position, but when I finally stop crying, I see that Scott is the one sitting against the wall and I'm between his legs, my face buried in his chest, his arms wrapped around me like he's protecting me from the world. I don't know long I cried. I don't know when I stopped pushing him away. All I know is that for a few moments I lost myself. He said nothing and just held me. I needed that. The feel of his strong arms around me made me feel safe and I let go. I stopped fighting and released all that pain from my body. The pain that he caused, the pain my dad caused, all melded together into a ceaseless flow of tears, and it felt so good to have someone to lean on, someone to be strong when I couldn't be.

But now that it's over, I feel so ashamed. I allowed Scott Carter to see me at my weakest and I feel exposed, vulnerable. This whole situation is a weapon he can so easily use to humiliate me in front of his friends, and I can't believe I gave him so much ammunition. His hand is still stroking my hair, soft and comforting. How could I have found any form of comfort in this guy, the person who ridiculed me so cruelly on so many occasions? I feel like I've betrayed myself. I have fraternized with the enemy, which is in itself humiliating. I slowly pull away from him, wiping the moisture off my cheeks without looking at him.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

I hate that I can hear concern in his voice, and I remind myself that he doesn't give a shit about me. My reply is barely a whisper. "I'm fine."

I stand up and walk upstairs to the bathroom. I splash cold water on my face, breathing deeply as I try to center myself again. When I return to the kitchen, Scott is packing away the groceries I didn't ask for. I feel awkward around him, and I wish I could take back what happened between us. I never should have allowed him to touch me, hold me, stroke my hair. Ugh! I still can't look at him when he turns to me and places a ham and cheese sandwich in front of me. It's lopsided and a little messy, but it looks so good. I cross my arm over my cast and just stare at it, my pride battling with my hunger.

"Let's take a stab at this talking thing again." He places his forearms on the opposite side of the island counter and lowers himself until he's at eye level with me and I'm forced to look at him. "This time with no cans. Can we try that?"

His voice is calm, soothing when he really should be mad. I've blubbered all over his green and blue Givenchy T-shirt and the wet spot clings to his chest. His cheek is still a little red from when I slapped him, and I see the bruise at the edge of his sleeve where the can of beans had hit him. Why isn't he angry about that? We silently gaze at each other for a few moments. The guy in front of me looks like the tyrant I've always known yet somehow...he doesn't. The guy who hurt me looks different from the guy who held me. Hatred and intolerance usually reflect on his face yet here he is staring at me with swoon-worthy crystal blue eyes like he wants to try again. His hard, defined jaw is normally clean-shaven, and tight with agitation, but now the rough stubble makes him look less portentous and a little more human. His dark brown hair is neither messy nor neat. It's short on the sides, sort of spiky in the front. He's got that I didn't bother to style it, I just roll out of bed and I'm this hot kinda look. It's a devastating reality to acknowledge this simple fact: he would be drop-dead gorgeous if he wasn't such an asshole. If only personality transplants were a thing.

I want to tell him to go to hell, but instead, I roll my eyes. "I can't make any promises."

He chuckles, a cute grin splitting his face, and I swear, my stomach does a little flip. I'm not sure if it's because I'm shocked or just emotionally drained, but that was not the way I was expecting my body to respond. I must be coming down with something. The flu or a weird virus because something must be very wrong with me to have any sort of reaction to Scott.