Page 59 of Taste of Addiction

“No. Not anymore. This changes things. You are way safer with me than without me. I can barely function away from you, and that leaves me vulnerable as well. I’ve been going about this all wrong. I’m tired of being apart. I love you.”

I squeeze him tighter. “I needed to come back to Baker City. I’m glad I did. It helped me to heal a bit more and face some of my demons.”

Graham looks down at me and nods. “I didn’t want to stop you from going there. I never want to stop you from growing and dealing with things on your own timeline, Angie. I just want to protect you from unnecessary pain.”

He places me on the passenger seat and straps me into his car. He rounds the front of the car, strumming his fingers along the hood, before entering his side. He glances over at me and gives me a half smile. “Ready to go back home?”

His words penetrate my ears. It is ironic for him to use the word “home” as he does—especially after my visit to Baker City. But I no longer have a home there. My home is with Graham. Wherever he is, so is my heart.

“Yes.”

He shifts the car into drive and pulls off the shoulder back onto the highway. We are in the middle of nowhere and I am anxious to be in bed, where I can rest. My head hurts and I try to rub the pain out with my fingertips.

“Are you in a lot of discomfort?” he asks.

“Yes.”

A frown mars his features, and he reaches across the center console to rub my left thigh.

“I need you to promise me that you will stop taking pills. None. You have to stop them all right now. Even the ones that are just over-the-counter.”

I know his fears. I have fears too. “Okay.”

“How long have you been doing this?”

I turn to look at him and then shrug. “I think sometime in the spring. It didn’t start out as a problem, or at least looking back, I didn’t think it was one. I failed my last semester as a senior and was devastated. I didn’t initially plan to try again. But I had old pills from when I hurt my shoulder and leg. I never really took them after the accident. I wanted to be in pain then. Pain felt good. I thought I deserved it.”

Graham squeezes my hand and continues to listen to me ramble. It feels good to bare my soul and reveal my sins. I used to think that my flaws would keep him from loving me, but now I’m realizing that he loves me despite my flaws. And that makes me love him a tad bit more. I have a lot of baggage, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

He lets go of my hand to pull out his phone from his pants pocket. He glances at the screen, puts in his earpiece, then answers the call.

“Hey,” he says. I glance over as he listens to the caller. “Plans have changed.” He runs the fingers of his right hand through his hair. “Soph, I’m not kicking you out. I’m relocating you. This was always temporary.”

I can hear her side of the conversation through the other end because she talks so damn loudly—in that high-pitched squeak she calls a voice. She’s been staying at the penthouse. Oh, hell no. I can hear her argue that there is plenty of room for her to be there too. She is scared and alone, blah blah.

I’m not stupid enough to miss the irony that I have similar fears as Sophia. However, I’m not the one trying to manipulate a man to take pity on me.

Graham sighs and the tic of his jaw increases as she rattles on and on about her safety and her stalker and how they are supposed to be keeping up the appearance of a fake relationship. I start to wonder whose idea this whole fake engagement thing really was. Graham made it seem like it was his, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t orchestrate the whole thing—or at least plant the original idea inside Graham’s head. Sure, back at the safe house, he told me that the marketing director spun the idea to him and Sophia, but this has Barbie Bitch’s name all over it.

He doesn’t see her the same way I see her. Like he has some pretty image of her inside of his head and cannot see past this illusion to discover the real truth. For someone who doesn’t seem to give people the benefit of the doubt, he sure does for her.

I shift in my seat and look out the window. We are entering the Portland city limits. It’s after midnight, and all I want to do is curl up with Graham in bed. I am emotionally exhausted, and even my bones ache for rest. That’s what stress does to a person—it ages you.

Once again, Graham’s hand is on my thigh, reaching for mine to hold. I must have missed when he ended the call, absorbed in my own thoughts.

“Everything okay with Sophia?” I ask, not even wanting to say her name. I feel like I am in middle school with this newly released jealousy I have exhibited over the past month. I guess I never really had anything to be jealous over before Graham. There is something very primal inside me that wants to fight for him—especially when it comes to Sophia. She wants to sink her teeth into him and has no problem vocalizing her desires to me. I just wish he wasn’t so oblivious. Sweet Sophia is more like Snake Sophia. Slimy and seductive.

“Yes.”

“Is she sleeping in our—”

“For fuck’s sake, no. She is sleeping in the second guest room, on a completely different floor as me. I’m so ready for this all to be done.”

Graham’s terse response makes me want to ask a follow-up question but I resist. Maybe I don’t want to know if she is prancing around wearing skimpy lace pajamas, hoping he notices her. The last thing I need right now is for him to keep thinking about Sophia.

“You’re not going to send me away again, are you?”

“No, baby.”

---