Euphoria (Book Boyfriend #3) - Page 8/28

Setting my guitar and notepad down on the sheets, I begrudgingly got up and headed to the activities room without even bothering to put any shoes on. Whoever was waiting for me was really interrupting my writing flow, and I certainly didn’t feel like entertaining anyone. As I turned the corner and walked through the doorway, my eyes scanned the room looking for a familiar face. As soon as I saw the long, straight chestnut hair attached to the body that was undoubtedly Scarlett’s, my heart stopped beating and I gasped for air. She had found me. Not only had she found me, but she had come to see me.

My first reaction was to run back to my room. I felt like I had made real progress in the couple of weeks that I had separated myself not only from the drinking and drugs, but from her. Heather had helped me realize that I had made Scarlett an addiction, just like the chemical dependencies, only she wasn’t physically harmful to my body. It wasn’t anything that Scarlett had done herself, it was the way I had deified her and put her on a pedestal. I knew that my love for her was true, but Heather had emphasized that because I didn’t value nor love myself, our relationship had been doomed from the beginning. I was still working through a lot of these ideas and had finally begun to accept that I was worthy of someone like Scarlett, but that was without her sitting just mere feet in front of me. I was scared to death that if I stared in her big brown eyes, if I inhaled her sweet, heavenly scent, or if I touched her silky, soft skin, that I would fall right back into that unhealthy obsession I had for her, similar to the temptation of someone sitting a bottle of whiskey directly in front of me. That was the thing I had discovered about rehab right off the bat. It wasn’t so hard to not drink or do drugs or any of the other bad shit while I was in there. It wasn’t in thrown in my face, I didn’t have to watch other people enjoy it while I abstained. The real test would be once I was back in the real world; the everyday life of a musician included witnessing many people partake in numerous gluttonous and addictive behaviors. I thought I had a couple more months of working on myself before faced with any of my vices; however, as I stood there struggling to breathe, the thing that I craved most in life had paid an early visit.

Vowing to not take the cowardly way out, to not run from my problems but to meet them head on, I walked over to wear she was sitting, stopping just a couple of inches behind her chair. I wasn’t quite sure what to say to her. It was almost comical thinking about how natural talking to and flirting with girls had always come to me; I had never had to think about what I was going to say, I just said whatever the fuck I wanted to, and they all loved me just the same. However, in just two weeks’ time, Heather had managed to strip me of pretty much every ounce of arrogance that I once had in abundance, while simultaneously trying to build my self-respect and worth. The first part had happened quickly, the second was a definite work in progress. Gathering my courage, I inhaled a deep breath and said the one word that came to my mind.

“Angel,” I said as I exhaled.

SCARLETT

Frozen. I was frozen in my chair… afraid to turn around, afraid to look in those gray eyes that melt me every single time. The entire drive to the center I thought I had prepared myself for seeing him again, but the minute I heard his voice, I began having second thoughts about my unannounced appearance. Maybe I should’ve called first or maybe I should’ve just let things be, just knowing he was enrolled in a rehab program.

“Scarlett, turn around and look at me,” Mason’s gruff voice assaulted my ears.

Slowly, I stood up and turned around to look at where he was standing. My eyes instantly welled up with tears seeing him standing there barefoot in his baggy, tattered jeans and white undershirt. His dark brown hair was longer than I had ever seen it and it appeared he hadn’t shaved since he had been there. His face had much more color than when I had last seen him in Miami and I could tell that he had put on a few pounds as well.

He held his arms open at me and I quickly closed the small gap between us, flying into his body, nearly knocking him over. His arms wrapped snugly around me and I clung to him as if my next breath depended on it. We just stood there holding each other for I’m not sure how long, my face buried in his neck.

“Angel,” he repeated softly.

I pulled myself away from him so that my stare was locked on his grey, emotion-filled irises. “I hope it’s okay that I came,” I stammered.

“Of course it’s okay that you came. I’m just shocked to see you; I didn’t think you wanted to have anything else to do with me after…” his voice trailed off.

I grabbed his hand and walked us over to an empty sofa in the corner of the room. After we both sat down and made ourselves comfortable, not letting go of one another’s hand, I brought my gaze back to his. “I told you that I’d always be here for you. Even if we aren’t together in that sense, I will never abandon you, especially when you need support and a friend.”

A small smile replaced the obvious tension in his face. “I’m sorry I didn’t call. I wasn’t quite sure what to say.”

“It’s okay, Mase. I understand. I’m just glad that you’re here and getting help.” I looked around the room curiously at the other people. “So what’s it like? What do you do all day here?”

He chuckled. “It’s actually not so bad. The first few days I was being my usual ass-ish self, but I’ve made a few friends now and it’s getting better. I have an amazing therapist, her name is Heather and she’s really helping me realize shit that I knew but didn’t think much about.”

I nodded and smiled brightly as he continued to talk about his previous two weeks, truly happy that he seemed to be making progress. After a little over two hours, one of the clinic’s staff members came in the room and announced that visiting hours were ending and that we needed to wrap it up. I was disappointed that I had to go, but I knew that I needed to get home anyhow. I hadn’t checked my phone the entire time I was there, and I was sure that Ash had most likely tried to contact me at some point.

We embraced each other tightly one last time before heading towards the door. As we got ready to go our separate ways, I wanted to ask if I could come back, but was scared he would say no. Almost as if he could read my thoughts, he asked, “Will you come back to see me again? I’d really like you to meet Heather. I’ve told her all about you.”

Nodding emphatically, I replied, “Absolutely, Mase. Just let me know when and I’ll be here.”

“Okay, I’ll text you later this week,” he said as he turned around and walked in the opposite direction. I stood there watching him, feeling some relief knowing that I’d get to see him again soon. Once he was out of sight, I headed out the main entrance and to my car. Plopping myself into the driver’s seat, I leaned my head on the steering wheel and wondered to myself what in the world I was going to tell Ash.

CHAPTER EIGHT

I Got You ~ Jack Johnson

Secret ~ Maroon Five

ASH

Life was good. I couldn’t have been happier. I was beginning the last semester of classes for my Master’s degree at St. Thomas, my family was more stable than it had ever been despite my parent’s pending divorce, and mine and Scarlett’s relationship couldn’t have been going any better. It was almost eerily good; if I hadn’t been such an optimist, I would’ve thought that I was being set up for major devastation.

I had promised myself to take things relatively slow with Scarlett, even though in my heart, I was ready to ask her to marry me at any time. I knew exactly what I wanted, and there was no doubt in my mind, she was it. However, I knew that she was still very young and inexperienced in relationships, so it was important that she felt comfortable and in control at all times. I wanted more than anything to move in with her, to spend most of our free time together, but I also recognized the importance of her learning that she was capable of living on her own, both physically and emotionally. Her parents had not allowed her to be independent at any point in her life, and even when she first came to college, she was extremely dependent on Evie. Of course this was why when Evie died, tragically and unexpectedly, Scarlett didn’t know how to cope and she ran away. It was important to me that she learned, if ever anything happened to me or anyone else in her life that she cared about, that she would be okay on her own.

Once classes had gotten back in session in mid-January, Scarlett and I developed a routine that seemed to work perfect for both of us. Because we both had classes and work Monday through Thursday, we typically stayed at our own house those nights. We had tried studying together at the same house, and that always ended up with our books closed and our bodies naked. Unfortunately, neither of us were taking Anatomy and Physiology or Human Sexuality so we couldn’t very well pass it off for research. We would text and talk on the phone throughout the day, but it still gave us time to be our own people. However, when Fridays would roll around, she was mine for the weekend. I drank in every minute I spent with her during those three days, and I made sure she knew exactly how special she was to me and how important she was in my life.

We never discussed Mason again after I had brought her home from Miami. I had no idea where he was or what was going on with him, and as far as I knew, neither did Scarlett. I could only hope that I never had to hear his name or see his face again in my life, but I doubted I would be so lucky. I knew that Scarlett had feelings for him, possibly even loved him, but as long as I kept her away from him and his toxicity, I had faith that our connection and love would trump any of that. Most importantly, I just needed to keep him out of her life.

Smiling as I sealed the envelopes on the completed transfer applications for the same universities on the west coast that I had applied to for my doctorate, I reassured myself that I was doing the right thing for Scarlett. She really needed a fresh start, away from everything and everyone.

SCARLETT

I continued to see Mason regularly at the rehab facility after my initial visit. The second time was the following Thursday, just two days later, and I was introduced to Heather at that time. When I first met her, I was intimidated to be quite honest. She was absolutely gorgeous with long, curly black hair, the most exquisite green eyes, and a figure to die for. She carried herself with a confidence that I’d never had, and I could see the way that Mason looked at her in admiration. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a teensy bit jealous of her initially and was probably a bit standoffish, but once I started talking to her and got to know her personality, that envy quickly turned into respect and reverence. She was warm and personable, and it was obvious that she took her job very serious. She invited me to join Mason’s therapy session the following Tuesday which I eagerly agreed to do. I was not only curious about how such sessions were structured and what they were like in general, but I was overjoyed to be a part of Mase’s recovery and healing process. I still felt a huge amount of guilt and responsibility for his downward spiral and ultimately, what had happened to him on Christmas.

I was nervous the day that I arrived for the counseling, again just unsure of what to expect. Surprisingly, Heather’s office was set up very similar to the activities room, just on a smaller scale. There was a comfortable couch and an oversized chair set up opposite of her desk and credenza. The walls were painted a rich yellow, almost a golden color, and there were numerous plants and abstract pieces of art scattered about the area. Overall, it was very inviting and uplifting and I could see how her patients would feel comfortable in there.