Baby For The Mountain Man

“Maybe.” I chewed on my lower lip as I thought about Dillon walking into my grandiose home. He would feel so out of place here. It would prove his point of us not being right for each other. I would have to get to him first. It was the only way.

I stayed the rest of the weekend with my parents, just waiting for Dillon to call. But he didn’t. On Sunday afternoon I drove back to campus and did homework for the rest of the evening to prepare for my classes the next week. I then pulled out my résumé and looked up some internships online. Anything that would get me a job after college, even if it didn’t pay very much. I applied to a couple and was just filling in one of the final references when my phone rang. I grabbed it, praying it was Dillon, but it was a number I didn’t recognize. I answered it anyway.

“Is this Berkley?”

“Yes. Can I help you?”

“It’s Leo. Dillon’s manager. He asked that I call you.”

My heart leapt up in my chest. “He did? Is he okay?”

“He’s going to be. He told me about his problem.” I could tell the words were difficult for him to get out because he kept pausing at awkward points. “He’s in rehab. And he’s going to be there for a couple weeks. He wanted you to know.”

So he was getting help. Did this mean that there is a chance for us? “Did he say anything else about me?”

“No honey, I’m sorry. I won’t bother you again.” And with that he hung up. Dillon was in some type of rehabilitation facility and I was sitting here updating my résumé. Maybe we were both moving in the right direction, even though they were different ones.

I didn’t hear from Dillon at all while he was in rehab. I went to class and made phone interviews, just did my own thing. There were a couple good parties in there, too. I would miss those after college. But I checked my phone obsessively and got nothing. It had been almost three weeks when I finally heard from him. And it wasn’t in the way I was expecting.

“Someone’s here for you, Berkley!” I heard one of my sisters yell up the stairs. We pretty much had an open door policy for friends on campus, so it had to be someone that they didn’t know, or family.

I walked out of my bedroom and down the flight of stairs to see Dillon, still bruised, standing in the door holding a dozen roses. “What are you doing here?”

He stepped across the threshold and pushed the flowers in my face. “I’m really sorry if this isn’t okay. But part of my therapy is to make amends with the people I hurt. And that sounds like some bullshit, which it totally is. But I have to do it. And I hurt you Berkley. And somehow by hurting you I hurt myself. So here are some flowers, and I’m sorry. I will never bother you again.”

He turned to leave when I reached out to him. “You’re not bothering me. Why don’t you come upstairs?” Away from all of my sisters’ prying eyes. “I want to hear about everything. Please come upstairs and tell me.”

Naomi stood in the kitchen where I could see her, and she simply nodded at me. An unspoken rule about having boys over: your roommate stays out.

We walked into my bedroom, and I perched myself on the edge of my bed holding the flowers up to my nose. They smelled amazing. “These are really beautiful. They actually told you to buy these in rehab?”

He shrugged, looking around my room. He was almost pacing but slower, like being here made him anxious. “They didn’t say anything about flowers, but you seem like the type of girl who likes flowers.”

“Well you are right about that. So how was it?”

He turned around and looked at me, his piercing blue eyes boring right through me. “It kind of sucked. Withdrawal isn’t really fun, especially when you’re already in pain from getting the shit kicked out of you. But after the symptoms ended, I was okay. But then last week we had to talk about our feelings, and then I wasn’t okay again. But I haven’t used, not once since you left.”

“Why haven’t you?”

“Because I couldn’t have you. I can’t have both. Leo helped me see that. But even after therapy, I’m still an addict. I’m still no good for you.”

I wasn’t going to let him pull this again. I was taking control of the situation, regardless of what he wanted.

I set down the flowers on the bedside table. He hardly noticed, his eyes never leaving mine.

“I want to be with you!” I said in a rushed whisper, willing him to grasp how much I missed him.

“But I—” he stammered, appearing totally baffled as to what to do with me. I was in control, and he didn’t know how to handle it.

“You what? You got clean. Why?”

He looked at his hands, picking an old scab. “For you.”

My heart pounded in my chest. “For me?”

“Yeah. I mean, they say I’m going to have to work really hard, but I found a therapist and I…”

I wrapped my arms around him and landed a kiss on his soft lips. He fell back onto the bed, and I didn’t let him go. He tasted sweet and alluring. He kissed me softly at first and then his kisses became more fevered, as if he needed my mouth on his. His tongue slipped into my mouth and I claimed it. I sucked him slowly, tasting him. His ran his hands up my body to my breast, and he kneaded it softly. He began pulling off my t-shirt, tossing it aside. We paused and I felt myself fall into his blue eyes. I was always falling into them.