Tragic

"But Gidge, you have to let people help you. You can't live in a vacuum."

"I know, I get that too. And maybe one day I'll trust someone else and let them take care of me again, but not today." I turn and look up at him. "That day is not today. I need a little independence, Ronin. I need to be able to think for myself. And honestly, I was about to give in to you after our date at the zoo and the night we spent together afterward. But then I saw you with that other girl and I realized that I'm just not ready yet. I'm way too vulnerable right now. I need a little more time, I need a little more control."

I relax back into his chest and we think things through in the silence.

"Well," he says a little while later, squeezing me a little tighter. "I'm sorry you had to see Clare and me like that, but I'm not dating her, Rook. I've never dated Clare. She's Antoine's niece and she's a mess. She came home high yesterday morning, that's her apartment, by the way. She lives here in the building. Antoine called me yesterday morning and I should've just told you what was up before I left you in bed, but I didn't. I'm sorry. Everything that happened yesterday was my fault."

He pulls back so he can see my face and I give him a little smile.

"Anyway, Clare has got a lot of problems and we were very close to getting her to check herself into rehab, so I stayed with her to make sure she didn't leave before the people came to pick her up. She's up in the mountains right now, hopefully she'll stay there and complete the program, but to be honest, she's been there before and nothing's helped."

He shrugs underneath me.

"She stresses us all out, you know? It's like, on the one hand we just want her to go away and kill herself somewhere else so we don't have to watch. But we can't let go. We let her come back, we take care of her, but it's not working. I don't think she's gonna make it, Rook, she's not strong like you. That day you showed up for your test shoot was the first time we let her model in months. And even though Antoine never lets her do anything but fashion and glamour shoots, we set her up for that sexy artistic shoot for one reason only. So I could check her body for indicators. And if I found anything that even hinted she was still using, we were gonna fire her for good.

"You take away the job, you take away the money, you take away the drugs. That's how it's supposed to work, right? How it should've worked with Mardee, too. The tough love routine. And maybe Clare just goes and finds her drugs somewhere else, but at least we're not contributing to it." He stops to exhale a long breath of air.

"But that day you showed up here I checked her over in the dressing room and she had f**king track marks between her toes."

Ronin just shakes his head and pauses for a few seconds. "That's a pretty bad sign. And we have no delusions, but Antoine figures we can't give up. So, I'm sorry she was the reason you were angry. If ever there was a girl who was tragic, it's Clare Chaput, not Rook Walsh." Ronin sits up and takes my face in his hands. "You're not tragic, Gidget. You're the sweetest thing I've ever seen. And I never want to see you in that ugly-ass TRAGIC costume again, but if you need this, and if you want to do the Shrike Bikes body art bullshit so you can stash a shitload of money away in some secret bank account and get some control over your life again, then just do me one favor."

"What?" I ask.

"Let me help you. Because I can make sure you get through to the other side intact."

I smile and whisper, "Thank you."

"But make me one promise, OK?"

"Now what, Larue?"

"That you'll listen and take my advice when I offer it. Because I can't help someone who doesn't want to be helped. I know better than most that it just doesn't work."

Even though I'm trying to joke, his face stays dead serious. I swallow down my shame and give him what he needs. What we both need. "I promise, Ronin. I will listen and make good decisions based on your advice. Just don't give up on me yet because I really like you."

He pushes me off him and gets up, peels the blanket off of me and reaches down to slip off my clunky Mary Jane shoes. His hands glide up my calves and then tug down the white schoolgirl stockings. It takes all my willpower not to squeal at that, because it tickles so bad.

When he's done he takes my hand and pulls me to my feet, then leads me down the hallway. "Where are we going?"

"To wash the TRAGIC off you, Gidget. I can't stand to look at it for one more second."

He leads me into the bathroom and turns to the mission control panel that powers all the shower heads. They don't all come on at once this time, but a fine mist shoots out from the ceiling along with a puff of steam. He slides the robe down my shoulders and it drops to the floor in a soft whoosh and then undresses himself as I watch.

When we're both naked he opens the shower door and enter the mist of steamy water. He sits on the tiled bench against the wall and holds his hand out to me. I take it and climb into his lap as his hands dip down to cup my ass.

"I think you might've told a lie, Larue," I say playfully as I look down on him.

"Yeah? What'd I lie about, Gidge?" he asks innocently as he nuzzles my neck.

"This shower."

He tilts his head back and I smile.

"There is no way this shower is better than sex."

His laugh fills me up and suddenly I'm totally in the moment. I tip my forehead down to his and squeeze my eyes shut to stop the happy tears.