Unforgiven(41)

Stepping into the hot water, I inhale sharply as it pricks my skin. I rest my forehead against the ice-cold tile and close my eyes. My body shifts from side to side ever so slightly as I’m overcome with a dizzy spell. I place my hands on the wall to steady myself as the water washes away my sins.
I finish my shower and throw on a pair of pajama pants and a tank top. I pull the hair tie from my hair, leaving it long and loose. When I open my bedroom door, I find Jonah lying on the couch, watching a baseball game on the TV.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” he says, pushing himself up to a sitting position. I lean against the doorjamb and watch him as he turns the volume down on the TV. He’s put his shorts back on, but his chest remains bare. He runs a hand through his messy hair and smiles at me. “Come here.” He pats the space on the couch next to him. I walk toward him hesitantly, my palms sweating. As I squat to sit down, Jonah pulls me into his lap and I’m too weak to resist. He holds me as one would hold a small child in their lap.
He presses a kiss to my temple, then wraps his arms around me before he rests his chin on my shoulder. “I ordered pizza about fifteen minutes ago. You’re going to eat,” he says quietly.
“Okay,” I say, my voice as shaky as my body.
“You’re trembling,” he says and runs his hands up and down my arms. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I lie, turning my head away from him in an attempt to locate my purse.
“Lindsay, talk to me.”
“There’s nothing wrong, I promise,” I say, turning back to him and offering him a fake smile. Just then, the doorbell rings and Jonah kisses my forehead as he lifts me off his lap and sets me on the couch.
“Pizza’s here.” He jumps up and pulls his wallet from his back pocket. While he gets cash and pays for the pizza, I jump from the couch and head toward the kitchen island, where my purse sits. Reaching inside, I push and twist the white cap off the pill bottle and shake two pills into the palm of my hand. Jonah is closing the door as I toss them in my mouth and swallow hard.
“Wine?” I ask as he sets the large, cardboard pizza box on the counter.
“Sit down. I’ll get it.” He pushes me toward the tall barstools that sit at the kitchen island. “So I was thinking.” He smiles as he pulls plates down from the cupboard. “Maybe this weekend, we could go out again, maybe get some Mexican food and a movie?”
I watch him as he carefully pulls the slices of pizza from the box and sets a piece on a plate for me.
“I can’t this weekend. My friend Jess is coming into town with her fiancé, Gabe. She’s staying with me while he reconnects with some of his friends.” Jonah shoves the plate with pizza in front of me.
“So what are you guys going to do?” He takes a bite of pizza and waits for me to answer.
“Not sure. She was supposed to come with me to work on Saturday. I was given the morning anchor desk on Saturday before everything happened.” I pause. “Anyway, she was supposed to come with me. We met while interning together at a TV station back home in Wilmington.” I pick at the crust of the pizza and put a small piece in my mouth.
“So now you’re just going to hang out?”
I shrug. “Something like that. We’ll find something to do. Besides, it might just be nice to sit back and catch up.”
“Well, I’m sure the guys will be over tomorrow night if you guys want to stop by.”
I shake my head rapidly. “No, she’s not like that.”
“Like what, Lindsay?”
“Into the drugs…”
“Neither am I. I don’t do that. What Dominic does is Dominic’s business, not mine.”
“I watched him snort something off your kitchen counter the first time I met you. I think that qualifies as your business,” I say angrily.
“Well, isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I sit up tall and toss my shoulders back.
“The pills, Lindsay. I know you’re using. I can see it in your eyes. I can tell when you take them and all of the sudden you relax, you stop shaking, you calm down—and you laugh. It’s the only time I see you smile,” he says with an edge of irritation.
I swallow hard against my dry throat and plan a snarky come back, but he cuts in before I have a chance.
“It worries me, Lindsay.”
“Don’t worry about me.” I drop my eyes to the wine glass that sits in front of me. I can’t look at him as he confesses his concern, knowing I just swallowed two more pills.
“I will worry. I care about you.”
I snort as I pull the wine glass to my lips and swallow the cool Pinot Grigio. “What?” he asks, glaring at me.