Crashing Back Down

nods; not even shaking hands or words were attempted.

“How do y’all know each other?” Walker had been protective of me the whole time I’d known him, so this was not a new response, and I was a little uneasy to answer the question.

While I fumbled for words, Kris answered for me, “We met on a cruise a few years back during spring break.”He paused, winked at me and then unfortunately added, “We had the pleasure of getting to know each other really well.”

That was it; the deal breaker. I saw the statement register in Walker’s brain, settle in, and then fester. His face was boiling red within seconds. I was paralyzed. I knew I was about to watch a train wreck in slow motion and there was nothing I could do about it. When I saw Walker’s fist connect with Kris’ cheekbone, I knew this could escalate into an awful situation quickly.

I jumped off my bar stool and stood in between Walker and Kris, while Kris stumbled back a few steps, holding his cheek.

Behind me, Walker huffed and grunted. “Got something else to say, Slick?”

To my surprise, even with the gentle stream of blood staining his white cotton shirt, Kris shook his head, wiped the blood off with the back of his hand and chuckled. “Nah, man. I didn’t realize you two were together. Sorry Mags. See ya.”

I leaned back on my hip, arms crossed, looking at Kris with complete bewilderment. “Yeah, see ya around, Kris.”

Without another word, he left us alone.

Walker wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into his broad, protective body, kissing my shoulder gently. “No one will ever imply something like that scumbag just did and get away with it. What a douche, trying to make it sound like he hooked up with you.” He laughed a little and then stopped, realizing I wasn’t denying it. Quickly, he spun me around in his arms and looked dead into my eyes. “Mags, he was lying, right?”

I broke my gaze from his, ashamed of the week I was locked in a cruise ship cabin with that jerk. “Actually, Walker, he wasn’t lying. It was the spring break where Randy and I were fighting and he dumped me. You guys went to Panama City without Cali and I. We got mad, went on a cruise and had our own fun.” I looked back up at him quickly, seeing the rage and confusion mixing in his eyes. “Come on, Walker, I’m sure Randy did shit too.”

Walker shook his head. “No, Mags, he was miserable that entire trip. I think he cried himself to sleep every night. I had to leave him in the hotel room to be able to have any fun. He basically drank by himself in the room. It was a waste.”

My heart sank and my eyes got watery, trying to push out the guilt that was bubbling up, yet again.

Walker’s arms wrapped tightly around me, shielding me from the terrible thoughts scolding me, in a gentle acceptance of the woman I was to him right then and there.  Brushing my neck softly with his cheek then lips, he whispered, “Hey, it’s okay. I defended you, we’re together and that was a lifetime ago. Why let it ruin our night?”

I relaxed into Walker’s chest, breathing in his delicious smell of cologne and whiskey. “Let’s do another shot and get back on that dance floor.” Walker agreed and turned to our bartender who apparently had read our minds even before we were thinking it. She raised her brow, arms crossed across her almost exposed chest. “Nice punch, Walker.” A sly grin spread across her face and she whipped her black curls around to talk to another customer.

We offered cheers with our whiskey to putting the past right where it belonged, into the past, and finished our last beers sitting at the bar. We’d had a pretty eventful day and I didn’t protest when Walker suggested we grab some beer and hang out for the rest of the evening on the couch. The thought of comfy pajamas, curled up in Walker’s arms was inviting, and I jumped at the opportunity.

As we made our way past the front bar, trying to exit, a snide comment pierced into my ear. “I guess the widow enjoys sloppy seconds, huh? Nice one slut, going for your dead husband’s best friend.”

I whipped around to see the cocky stance of a glowering, Cindy, behind her side of the bar. My blood boiled, it took everything I had to not jump over the bar and punch her for her hard-hitting words.  “What the fuck did you say to me? As I recall, you were the one doing the walk of shame out of my front door after getting rejected, not too long ago. Don’t flatter yourself thinking you’re better than me, or that I give a flying fuck what you think you know about my situation.”

 I shoved open the front door, pushing passed the crowd of college kids getting their IDs checked by the bouncer. I forced a few calming breaths while huffing towards the truck. Walker had to jog a little to catch up to me.

“Mags, that was amazing!” His hand rested on my shoulder to stop me. I turned to look at him with tears streaming down my face.

“Fuck that damn bitch, and fuck you for bringing her to my home. What the hell were you fucking thinking, Walker?”

His head fell, staring at the floor, unable to make eye contact with my death stare. He muttered in a broken tone, “I thought we were over this shit. I am so sorry. Everyone else is in my past. My heart beats for you. I will do anything; just name it, to make you see that.”

I wanted to yell, kick, and scream. I hated what he had done, but I was not innocent in the situation. With a few deep breaths and some escaped tears, I forced my rigid body to relax. There was no use in fighting with Walker. He was right, we needed to move passed all of this and just allow ourselves to be happy, and it needed to start right then and there.

I cupped both of my hands onto his cheeks. “I’m sorry, it’s her I’m mad at. I won’t bring it up again.”

He took my hand in his and led me to the truck saying he was sorry about five more times before slamming my door shut for me. “Well, I’ll say we had a crazy day, let’s get you home to some wine, a chick flick and that couch.”

I sighed and scooted across the bench seat to climb into Walker’s arms. “Thanks, Walker, you’re amazing. But I just acted like a child.  Don’t let me act like that again, promise?”

He nodded and playfully pinched my ass, “Alright, I think of a few ways to punish you.” His eyes narrowed as his southern accent seductively twisted into his words making breath catch.

 “You’re truly the perfect girl.” He sighed, breathed in deeply and started the truck. It grumbled and groaned while it carried us home to finish out our night of passionate roughness and pleasure.

18

The next morning I woke up dressed in my favorite pajamas, alone in my bed. Stretching into a yawn, I wondered where Walker was. I slipped out from under my covers, shuffled my feet into my slippers and then into the bathroom. Looking into the mirror, I could see how rough a day my Saturday really had been. My makeup was smeared and my skin looked pale and pasty. I scrubbed my face clean and brushed away the taste of stale liquor from my mouth.

Suddenly, to my delight, the wonderful smell of bacon on the stove wafted up into my room. I was thankful Walker was still with me, and that I didn’t do anything stupid in my drunken sleepiness to piss him off. Especially after my episode with Cindy at The Saloon. I knew I needed to drop the situation, not allow myself to get into a drunken bitch fest with Walker, and just relax for the night. I had a terrible habit of not being the most pleasant person when I was drunk, and I was always concerned I would lash out at the wrong time, at the wrong person. I really was proud of myself for not diving head first over the bar to rip Cindy’s face off and for not freaking out on Walker.  But pride turned to shame quickly, there was no excuse for my actions.  It was high time I started to grow up and move on.

Striding into the kitchen, I found Walker at the stove, shirtless, cooking up a storm. There was bacon on the griddle, with pancakes being made next to them, and a bunch of eggs whisked in a bowl, waiting to be scrambled up. My ears perked up with the sound of the coffee maker groan and bubble into life as it started to brew much- needed headache medicine.