Page 40 of Craving Oblivion

“Will you come in here? Sit at the table? I’ll get you some tea.”

“I’ll get the tea,” she said, voice soft. “Ice, too, if you’ll let me.”

She looked haggard, as if this night had gone on for years. Mascara streaked her cheeks, and her hair was a mess from my fingers.

“I’ve got frozen veggies. They’ll work fine.”

I moved around the space, giving her ample room as I collected mugs and the tin of British teas I’d bought—in case Aya ever visited.

I couldn’t even muster a smile when I realized my dream had come true.

“Nash, how could you not have… I saw you with that woman in your band.” Aya’s entire body tensed, and I wasn’t sure if she was rejecting my statement as a lie or working to reorient her belief about me.

I pulled out a chair and leaned my head back against it as I sat. “You know what it was like with my parents. They weaponized sex. And my d—Brad liked to give those big, elaborate speeches about how much he loved my mother, how she was the shining light of his life…”

I rolled my head in time to see her nod. Talking about my mom led to a sick oozing in my gut. Now wasn’t the time, not for that story.

Aya remained intent, focused on me.

“Even Cam had told me about his first wife, how she screwed around on him—can you imagine? So sex—if it couldn’t be with you—just wasn’t something I wanted. Plus I spent a lot of years too out of it to feel anything.”

Aya nibbled on her lip, her beautiful violet eyes darkening. She heard me, but I wondered if I could make her understand.

“I wasn’t in a place to offer myself to anyone else. I didn’t want to, because that had always turned out badly for me. I loved Lev. He died. I loved my mother; she left.” I closed my eyes as memories of our last conversation assaulted me. She’d been tearful and contrite, but I’d refused to budge.

“She…she died, and…” I bit off the final words: it was my fault. I refocused on what Aya needed to know.

“I loved Brad, and he turned on me.” I sighed. “And I loved you so much I couldn’t see straight. I hated being away from you, but there was this pattern, and I was sure you’d leave.”

“If you let yourself love me,” Aya concluded.

“Right.” I nodded. “And I know it’s stupid, completely illogical.”

Her shoulders rounded forward, and she bowed her head. “But it made sense to you then, based on what you knew.” She looked up at me. “And then I did leave.”

“Yeah.”

We were silent. After a long moment, during which my heart tried to thrash out of my chest, she came around the table, steps hesitant. Her dress was rumpled from where she’d taken to bunching the hem in her hands, and the mascara had dried in black streaks down her cheeks. Her eyes were bloodshot.

She was a hot fucking mess, and I wanted more of her. I wanted all of her against me, surrounding me, holding me together. I’d proven I could get clean, move past my demons, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want to crawl into her arms once more. I’d felt safe with Aya, and I craved that feeling again—more so now with my world so topsy-turvy. I just needed to share my life with her this time, not encompass her completely.

“How’s your hand?” she asked. She reached out, fingers tentative, not quite touching my abraded skin.

“Hurts. Good thing I’m not touring for another month.”

She raised her gaze to mine. Aya had always been my calm. She’d radiated this peace I needed to center myself. I’d thought about how I’d placed her smack-dab in the center of my world and concluded that Aya knew who she was, what she wanted. Except now, she was fragile, unsure. That had been too much to ask her to bear when I wasn’t strong enough to support my part.

This Aya wasn’t the quietly confident young woman I’d once known. My stomach cramped as I thought of her words from earlier. I’d had public adulation for years; Aya had received public humiliation. That had affected her deeply, especially coming so soon after losing her mother, the only other person she’d loved.

“How come you didn’t screw Alistair?”

Fuck. Why had I said that? And why now?

“Because he wasn’t you,” she said. Her eyes begged me to understand.

And I did, completely. On this subject, it seemed we felt the same. I thought about the girl in San Francisco, the one I’d nearly puked on.

I nodded. “Like I said, enough of the pills dulled the cravings of my body, too.”

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