Our Time Now. [Patrick Kane][Completed]

Chapter Sixteen.

I was inconsolable. My tears wouldn't stop. My dog was gone. The only consistent thing in my life was Mister Darcy, and even though he was just a dog, he was my family. He was all I had. I didn't entirely trust Macy with him, but I never thought she would do anything to hurt him. Despite what she said, she loved, or at least acted like she loved him. I hated my family. I hated my sister, and my dad, my stupid mom for leaving me, and that sick piece of shit who ruined my life. 

I had nothing. 

"Baby, please just calm down." Patrick said, rubbing my back. Jon took Mister Darcy, and Patrick took me back to his place. As much as I didn't trust him, I really needed someone right now, and here he was. 

He pulled me closer to his chest, and I took in his familiar, comforting scent. Despite my best efforts, I still felt a lot towards Patrick. I still loved him. 

I tried to take some deep breaths, and relax my body, but it was hard. 

"Drink some tea." He offered, lifting up the cup for me to take. 

I took small sips, until I finally calmed down from my heavy sobs. 

"Thanks." I said quietly. 

We sat in silence on his couch as I slowly took sips of my tea. There was so much that needed to be said, but not was not the time for that. 

"What happened to your hand?" He asked, breaking the silence. 

"Just me being stupid." I said, looking at the cast on my hand. 

"Is that why you weren't at home?" he took my tea and set it back on the table next to him. 

"I was upset, punched a wall, and it caused some damage." I mumbled. 

"Okay, but why weren't you at home?" He said, not letting it go.

"I had to have surgery. I don't do well with anesthesia and so I was staying at a hotel for a couple days so I didn't have to explain anything to Macy." My eyes not leaving my feet. 

"Surgery?!" He exclaimed. 

"I'm sorry. I needed to work some things out and I knew if you found out you would just freak out." 

Patrick was eerily quiet as he worked it out in his head. I knew he was reaching a conclusion that was going to get me in some trouble. 

"That's why you thought I was Rundblad. He took you to the hospital and put you up in a hotel." He said, moving himself completely out of contact with me. 

A shiver overtook my body, and I felt like I was in trouble. 

"I'm sorry." I said, pulling myself into his chest. He wouldn't look me in the eyes, but I needed him still. I needed the contact. I missed him more than I wanted to admit. 

His eyes blinked rapidly, as he wouldn't stop thinking. I wanted him back, so I did the only thing I knew I could do to get him to come back to me. 

I kissed him. I gently pressed a kiss to his lower lip. He was stiff and not giving, but I didn't give up. I pulled myself onto his lap, and wrapped my arms over his shoulders. I felt his breath hitch in his throat before he finally kissed me back. His lips moved in sync with mine as his tongue brushed my lower lip. All the frustration and hurt from the previous weeks were gone and it was just him and I. 

We pulled away, our eyes never breaking contact, and our breaths slightly labored. 

I needed that. 

---

I didn't need to drink. It was the last thing I should have done, but it was hard not to. I was sad, and my arm occasionally hurt so here I was. Not to mention the fact that I hadn't yet confronted Macy yet, but I wanted to be a 100% better so that I could beat her ass without further hurting my hand. 

Patrick had already planned a party at his apartment before all of this crap had happened, and as much as he wanted to call it off, I refused to allow that to happen. I wore a sequined tank top with some dark skinny jeans and ankle boots. Charlie had forgiven me, and came over early to curl my hair for the party, and do my make-up. I hung out by the bar all night, and mostly kept to myself, which allowed me to get nice and shit faced. 

"Baby, can you please slow down? Like not take a shot every time someone orders one." Patrick said, wrapping his arm gently around my waist and his hand resting on the small of my back. 

"Well I can't take my pills, because I already had alcohol, so to make my hand to hurt, I have to drink lots." my drunk brain concluded. 

"I don't want you getting sick. Just slow down a little bit okay?" He tried to convince me. 

"Fine." I grumbled. 

"I'll be back to check on you. Behave okay?" He said, placing a kiss on my forehead, and walking off. 

I did continue to drink, but I followed his rules of slowing down. My mind was fuzzy and I avoided all the conversations. Seeing Patrick talk to other girls was hard, but I had no say in anything he did anymore. We weren't together, and even though he would smile at me, and check up on me, my drunk brain wouldn't allow me to think anything positive. It was going on 2 in the morning and I was ready to crash, but I drank on. 

A girl hung all over him. They were laughing and she was touching his arm and his chest. I could never be enough for him. So I was going to do something drastic. 

---

He was going to walk in any second. The party had officially died down, and he had gotten everyone out of the apartment. He was finishing up with the bartender, and then he was coming to bed. I had stripped down to my bra and panties and thanked God that I had cute matching underwear on. 

I wasn't necessarily ready to have sex with Patrick, but I was willing to do what I wanted to do. Clearly moving along to a sexual relationship was a good progression and maybe that's what held our relationship back. Maybe that's why he let Marissa dance on him. I wasn't doing enough to keep him. 

This is how we could make it. 

The door opened, and my heart was beating through my chest. 

His eyes got wide, and his jaw dropped. 

I couldn't help but smile slightly at the look he was giving me. He wanted me. 

"Hi baby." I smiled at him. 

"What is this?" He asked, shutting the door behind him. 

"This is me, offering myself to you." I grinned. 

"I can see that." He chuckled, sitting down at the edge of the bed. 

"Well," I said expectedly, "don't you want me?"

"Alice, I want you more than anything, but we can't do this." He said, rubbing my leg softly. 

"I thought this is what you wanted." I said, trying not to get too upset. 

"I want you. But you are drunk, and we aren't even together. I want our first time to be special. I want to sweep you off of your feet, and I want it to be one of the best nights of our lives." He explained. 

"Why? It's not like my first time ever was anything." I said, letting the alcohol get the best of me. "Getting molested by your uncle for 10 years makes sex less special so let's just get this over with." 

The gravity of what I had just revealed didn't hit me until I saw the look he was giving me. 

Fuck. 

---

So despite all of the shit that's happened with Patrick Kane in reality, this was my original direction for this story. 

I am also sorry for how long this took to update. I am trying to get on a schedule of writing and updating this story, but my life gets crazy hectic. 

Thanks for sticking around to read what I have to write. Keep letting me know how you like it. OR don't.