Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

Callie

What's wrong with me?

I'm not a teenage girl, and I shouldn't have let my guard down. Admittedly, last night I saw a side of Eddie I actually liked; he was funny, and it was nice to see he isn't always an arse. This morning, I might have been rude to him, but I couldn't exactly admit I'd had a sex dream about him, so I had to get rid of him before my imagination got the better of me. I can't do something I'd regret—I need the money too much to let a moment of weakness take control.

This morning I'm at my own NA meeting. Lately, I've missed them because I've been so busy with Eddie. Right now, I'm not holding out much hope that he wants to get sober. I'd like to think he's reconsidering because of something I've said or done, but who knows what goes on inside that brain of his. He said he'll come up with some rules, so we'll see.

At meetings we listen as everyone tells their story or talks about a temptation they've faced this week. Olivia looks in my direction as a newbie finishes telling her story, so I nod and introduce myself.

"As most of you know, my name is Callie. I had a moment of weakness this week. Though I didn't give in to temptation, I wanted to as I felt my skin crawl with need. Lately I've been helping someone try to get sober, and it isn't easy. I let it get to me and I feel so terrible.

"I thought I'd dealt with my addiction. Now I'm clean and my sister supports me a hundred percent. But I think I haven't really dealt with all the emotions and hurt inside me—I've just buried it all. Forgiveness is what I asked my family for, and I know they have given it, but I'm not sure I have really forgiven myself? Because if I have, why does it still feel like the weight of the world is on my shoulders?" I sit back and zone out as Olivia ends the meeting.

Olivia sits next to me, snapping me out of my thoughts. She can always tell when something is bothering me.

"Is the rock star giving you trouble?" she asks.

"Not in the way you think. I saw a different side to him, and it made me think about my own life. In his own way, he admitted he wants my help."

"Sounds like you might be good for each other."

"I highly doubt it. He gets under my skin and is impossible," I say.

"Who are you trying to convince? Me or yourself?"

I shake my head. Olivia lives inside those books she reads, where two broken people get a fairy tale ending. In real life, two broken people are usually toxic for each other.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. Saved by the bell... or maybe not. It's Eddie.

"Hello?" I say dubiously.

"What ya doing?" he says, his voice too cheery. Dammit, he's high.

"I swear to God, Eddie, if you're high?—"

"Then will you spank me? Because if the answer is yes, then I'm high."

"So, you're not high?"

"Give a man some credit. I said I'd give this a shot with some conditions. Meet me at my house and we can go over them."

Before I can answer, he hangs up the phone. I say goodbye to Olivia and make my way to Eddie's. I can't wait to hear what his conditions are—I'm sure they'll be way over the top and crazy.

As I walk into Eddie's house, it surprises me how quiet it is. Usually, there are people everywhere.

"Eddie, are you here?" His house is enormous; he could be anywhere. I make my way upstairs, thinking he might be in his room. The door is ajar, so I knock lightly before pushing it open. "Eddie?"

"Finally," he says, walking out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. I watch as a lone drop of water runs down from his chest to his navel. Swallowing hard, I force myself to look up and instantly see his delight. He knew I was checking him out, but I'll admit, as much as he annoys me, he isn't hard on the eyes.

"I feel sexually objectified. Now I'll star in your dreams," he says as he turns his back to me and drops his towel.

I'm sure he only turned around to be nice, because I know he has no problem being naked in front of anyone.

"So, what are these conditions you've come up with?" I ask.

"Straight to business," he says as he pulls up his pants and turns to face me.

"I'm not here for pleasure."

"Are you sure? It could loosen you up a little."

"I'm loose enough, thank you." The words are out of my mouth before I realise what I said, and Eddie can't control his laughter. My face burns with embarrassment. "You're impossible," I mutter as I storm from the room.

"Wait, I'm sorry. I was just playin' with ya."

"I'm not here to play games. This isn't a game to me."

"How about we go over my conditions?" he says, trying to change the subject.

"Fine."

I follow him through the kitchen, and we stop at another door I haven't been through before.

"Condition one," he says as he flicks a light switch on the wall. "You now have a work car, no arguments. If we go somewhere, I need to know I won't die in that death trap. Plus, we need tinted windows for privacy. Those vultures will do anything to get a story."

I arch my brow and look at him to see if he is serious.

"Go on, check out your new ride." He indicates to the door handle.

"Eddie, I can't accept it. There is nothing wrong with my car."

"I beg to differ. But no arguments, remember?" he says as he opens the door for me and reveals a brand-new sports car on the other side. I'm talking straight from the factory. "Get in and have a look."

I hesitate. With guys like Eddie, there's always a catch or something you have to do in return.

"Oh, for shit's sake, get in," he says with an eye roll. "I knew you wouldn't accept it as a gift, so for as long as you're here dealing with my arse, the car is yours. When you finish whatever we're doing here, I can sell it to you for a small amount of money because, let's face it, I don't need another car." He motions to the array of cars parked in a garage that's as big as a medium-sized house.

"I can't do that. I've worked hard to buy everything I have by myself."

"How about a deal? If you can get me sober, the car is yours. Call it a thank you gift. If you don't succeed, you can buy it from me, pay it off, or give it back."

"I can handle that," I say, opening the car door and slipping into the leather seat. I've felt nothing like it.

"Fancy christening it? You know, break it in?" he says with a stupid, cheesy smile.

"In your dreams," I throw back.

"Okay, let's get on to number two then," he says, offering me a hand.

I take it and stand, then pull my skirt back down to my knees. "So, what is condition two?" I say sceptically.

The other shoe has to drop. There will be a ridiculous demand, something I can't follow through with. Losing a car wouldn't phase him if he lost our deal.

"Close your eyes," he says as we walk back into the kitchen.

"Um, why?"

"Don't you trust me?" He's trying to act serious.

"No, not really."

"Oh, that burns. Don't I look like a trustworthy fellow?"

I narrow my eyes at him, thinking maybe it's a rhetorical question. He just smiles and takes my hand in his.

"Where are we going?" I ask, still hand in hand with the rock star I cannot stand as he leads me through his house.

Today he's showing me a different side, and I won't lie, I like this side of him. It makes me realise he really is human, like me, flaws and all. This is the Eddie I'll remember when he's being a pain in my arse, this mental picture of him being spontaneous and kind.

"To condition number two, silly. I thought we covered that."

His house is a mansion. I've really only seen the side that contains the kitchen and a massive living room. And I've been up the set of stairs to his room. We walk through a pair of glass doors to an indoor pool. His house has a pool inside! As we pass through, all he says is "Shortcut."

A shortcut to what?

When we reach what looks like a whole new house, and are standing in another living room, he stops and looks around. "We're here."

"Where are we?" I ask, thinking maybe he's lost his marbles.

"Your part of the house."

"My what? I don't plan on living here." I laugh. It's absurd he'd even think that.

"It's condition two. Truman says the best way to conquer my addiction is by having someone around all the time.

"Who's Truman?"

"The guy who collects the garbage," he says matter-of-factly.

"The garbage man?"

"Yes. Are you hard of hearing? Because I can get the best doctors in the state to look at you."

"My hearing is perfectly fine. I'm just trying to understand why you're taking advice from the garbage man?"

"Don't understand me—it'll give you a headache. Just think about it. You want to move into your own place, somewhere you can set up and have your son around?—"

"How do you know about Beau?"

"Your ex, Dane, he's a looker—almost made me switch teams. It was kind of cute, really. He got my number, God knows how, but we met up today and he kind of gave me a warning."

"He did what? We barely talk, unless it has to do with Beau, and he's calling you? How is this my life? Did you meet Beau?"

"No, he came with a bird. She isn't half as much of a looker as you are, but I could see the appeal if you're into the ‘soccer mum' kind of thing."

"I'm not moving in with you," I say, crossing my arms. This day's gone from weird to what the actual fuck .

"Stop fighting it. You know as well as I do you want me sober, and I refuse to try unless my demands are met."

"You're crazy, you know that, right? We'll kill each other."

He laughs and again takes me by the hand. What's with all the touching? Eddie leads me down a hallway, and that's when I realise we're not alone. He shouts out orders about colours and furniture, and to run everything by me, then he takes me up a set of stairs. The room up here is the size of a small house, but it's decked out with a wall of vinyl records and posters. I don't miss the Black Diamond poster, and I point and raise my brow.

"I told them that was for your room, but they must have thought I was joking. Is it okay? I kind of made them do this room first."

"Are you insane? You had them do all this in what, a few hours?"

"It's amazing what people will do when you pay them triple. Let's just say I really want to make a go this time, and I feel it may be the only way."

"What happens when you get sober? I move out?"

"You can stay—I'm never here much—or you can find a house to rent. Shit, if I get sober, you can take your pick of the properties I own."

"You're really serious?"

"As a heart attack, and you haven't heard condition three yet."

"What is it?"

I try to prepare myself, as what else could he possibly offer me? Shit, I think we need to sit down and have a conversation. While I'm happy to live here until he is sober, I'm not sure if this is somewhere I'd bring Beau—not with the women and parties I'm presuming he has on a regular basis.

"Condition three: under no circumstances, no matter how badly you want to jump my bones, can we sleep together. Truman said abstaining from sex is also a good thing."

I can't help it. An uncontrollable laugh pours its way through my body. It's the kind of laughter which makes your ribs hurt and tears pour from your eyes.

"I don't think having sex with me would be that funny," he says, looking at me like I have two heads.

"It's not that. It's just, I was hired to get you sober, but your garbage man has had more luck than me. He's even made you swear off sex! I need to meet this guy."

As much as being around Eddie reminds me of the demons hidden in my closet, I think we may have found a place where we can both be happy. I'm not na?ve enough to believe it'll all be rainbows and butterflies, though, and I wonder how he'll react when I have counter-conditions. Only one way to find out.