Title: How to Get a Player to Commit
Author: Steph
Rating: PG
Pairing: Robin/Patrick
Category: Romance/Humor/Drama
POV: Robin
Disclaimer: I do this out of a love for this couple. No infringement is intended.
Spoilers: Picks up after the cabin, so includes all of that.
Summary: Robin decides she wants a commitment from Patrick and comes up with a set of rules to follow in order to get her man.
Note: Thanks for the feedback! Hope you enjoy Rule # 7 and please let me know what you thought. -Steph
--- How to Get a Player to Commit: Rule # 8 - Make Him Admit His Fears ---
I've known a player or two in my day and they always boil down to one thing: They have a fear of commitment. Some of them just hate the idea of being attached to one woman. Some don't want to make the effort a relationship requires. Others have something in their past or some personal hang-up that's stopping them from taking the next step.
I've always believed Patrick is one of the others. He's more complicated than he likes to admit. If I expect to get anywhere with him I need him to admit what's at the root of his fear of commitment. It goes beyond letting feelings get in the way and it all goes back to his father. That much I'm sure of.
In order to do this, I invited him over for dinner at my place. Yes, I know this goes against our only work and sex rule, but I had to do something. I can't take much more of this.
I could hear the surprise in his voice when I called him and invited him to dinner, but he didn't hesitate a moment in accepting the invitation.
I look at myself one last time in the mirror, straightening my blue knit top and smoothing my hands across the front of my black skirt. Just then, the doorbell rings. I take a deep breath and smile nervously at my reflection.
I then walk to the door and open it up. My eyes fall upon him and my breath catches in my chest, just like it does every time I see him. His eyes scan my body, as he offers me a dimpled smile. He's wearing a tight, gray v-neck shirt and black pants. He looks devastatingly handsome, as always. It's then that I notice his right hand is tucked behind his back. He pulls it out, revealing a beautiful bouquet of wildflowers.
I smile, taking them from him and inhaling their scent. "They're beautiful. Thank you."
"Beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman," he says softly, his eyes upon my face.
I hear Patrick call women beautiful all the time, but it's different when he says it to me.
There's something in his voice.
There's something in his eyes.
I move to allow him entrance and close the door behind him. I turn around to face him and find that he's standing right in front of me, so close our bodies are touching. My heart begins to beat faster and my palms start to sweat.
I raise my eyes to meet his. Our gaze holds for a long moment, before he brings his hands to cup my face and lowers his mouth to mine. His body pushes against mine and he pins me against the door.
He pulls back a few moments later, his forehead resting against mine.
"I can't believe how much I missed that," he says, so softly I almost don't hear him.
For a moment, I wonder if he even meant to say it aloud.
He moves his mouth to my lips again, then trails a path of kisses across my jawline and down my neck. I moan, as I throw my head back and squeeze my eyes closed. My nails grip his shirt, digging into his back. His hands move to my waist and I feel him begin to inch my shirt up.
Oh, God, I want him. I want him so much I physically ache. I feel myself losing control. I feel him pushing me over the edge.
I have to force myself to remember why I asked him here in the first place.
I manage to pull back, breathless. "What about dinner?"
His tongue slowly moves along his lower lip and my eyes follow it.
"You're the one who says eating together, then having sex means we have a relationship. The way things have been, I was surprised that you called me at all, but I was especially surprised you suggested dinner. I thought you didn't want to confuse things."
He doesn't wait for me to respond. His mouth moves to mine again, but I turn my face away from him just as his lips brush across mine. I move out from beneath him and walk to the couch. He sighs and rubs his fingertips over his lips. He then shakes his head and joins me on the couch.
"What's wrong?"
"Why are you like this?" I blurt out, meeting his eyes.
I don't mean for it to come out like that, but it does.
"Like what?"
"So afraid of being in a real relationship with someone. I know what you told me about how people get hurt when feelings are involved, but there has to be more to it. It must go deeper."
He sighs. "I knew it. I knew no matter what you said that a real relationship was what you wanted."
"I didn't say that. I just want to understand why it's something you don't want with anyone."
He lowers his eyes. "You wouldn't understand."
"Try me."
"Why do you want to understand me so badly? You don't want a relationship with me, so why do you care why I am the way I am?"
I bring my hands to cover his. "Because you're so much better than you believe you are. You have so much more to give than you let anyone see. You put on this arrogant, egotistical act, thinking that no one will ever see the true you. That no one will ever want to. Well, I see through it and I want to know the real you. I wouldn't still be here if I didn't since you haven't exactly made it easy. Please, help me understand, Patrick."
He pauses for a full minute and I fear he's going to get up and walk out on me.
But, finally, he takes a deep breath and begins softly, "You know how my father spun out of control after my mother died? Well, I tried to reach out to him in the beginning. The last time I tried, he looked at me, his breath stinking of alcohol and his words slurred, and he said: 'The only guarantee when it comes to love is that you will fail and disappoint the other person. You don't have to look any further than me to know that's true. Do yourself and the woman whose heart you'd only break a favor. Leave love to the fairytales'."
I swallow hard, as he goes on. "I guess I've carried that with me. I figured I can't fail and disappoint someone if I don't let anyone get close."
I shake my head. "Your father was drunk and grieving, Patrick. He probably doesn't even remember telling you that and yet you've let it shape who you are and how you live your life."
He runs a hand through his hair. "He was right. I'm not cut out to be in a relationship, Robin."
"So you've told me. And now I understand why. You've let your father's words implant doubts in your mind about yourself. You're afraid you won't live up to my expectations, that you'll fail me in some way. You're scared of what that would do to you and me. Well, Patrick, that's the risk we all take when it comes to relationships, to love. But it's a risk worth taking."
He looks at me, his eyes narrowing. "For someone who's just trying to understand me, you've found a way to make this about you and me. This is about more than sex for you, isn't it? It always has been."
I force myself not to look away. I guess I don't have a choice anymore. I've got to tell him.
"So what if I am?"
He swallows hard and says weakly, "You lied to me."
"And you didn't lie to me? I saw the way you looked at me when we had sex for the first time. You felt something. It was more than just sex for you, too. Much more. You're scared of what it was you felt. You're scared because of what it could mean."
He stands up abruptly and walks toward the door. "I can't do this anymore."
"When are you going to stop running away, Patrick?"
My voice stops him in his tracks. He slowly turns around to face me.
"This no strings sex agreement was a bad idea. It's over. In fact, I think it's best if we keep our relationship purely professional from now on."
He then turns on his heel and walks out the door.
Tears sting my eyes at his declaration, but I can't help but feel like progress was made. I understand where he's coming from. Now I just need to find a way to get through to him.
---
Up Next: Rule # 9 - Make Him Come to You
Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed it and please let me know what you thought. -Steph