25 - Learning You Were Wrong

"The cuffs," he uttered, blinking away the molten look that had cast a spell over Steph, drawing her in and making her knees go weak. It was a good thing the cuff was there, to be honest, or she might have slid right down into the tub, a puddle of desire. Dear God, she was lost for this man. If she had been hopelessly in love with her best friend back in college, it was nothing compared to how she felt about the man standing before her naked form in the bathroom at two in the morning, pure lust in his eyes.

She'd had a lot of time to think about what Deb had said while she was sitting in the bushes tonight. About how she'd been treating him this week since running into him at the diner. About how she'd been clinging to the hurt and anger of her twenty year old self, gathering it around her like a shield. Using his leaving her as an excuse to to keep pushing him away, to lock herself off from him and disregard every little thing he said. Like that single decision he made a lifetime ago invalidated any opinion he had, and excluded him from participation in her life.

It wasn't a very mature stance to take, she'd realised, especially when she then took the time to examine how Carlos had been treating her in return.

Aside from an initial negative reaction to the news that she was working as a bounty hunter for Vinnie - a reaction that he later explained was due to worry - he had been nothing but kind and supportive towards Steph. Almost excessively so when you considered the attitude she'd volleyed back at him. Every time she recalled what he had done, how it had devastated her, and the impact it had had on every relationship she'd been in since, she doubled down on those feelings, no matter how their interactions had been travelling before that moment.

She hadn't been lying when she told Deb that there were moments between Carlos and herself this week that had felt just like old times; like not a second had passed since they'd parted ways in the quad for their afternoon classes that day. And the conversation they'd just had over the phone while Carlos was racing across town only just added to the collection. Instead of pushing Carlos aside, she'd decided to push aside her annoyance at him calling her Babe, and the resulting interplay had lifted her spirits higher than she would have thought possible while losing feeling in her arm chained to the bar overhead.

There had been snippets of the Carlos she knew every time they spoke. A little glimpse of the kid she'd taken a punch for when he'd picked her up off the ground in the gym after rushing to her rescue. A hint of the guy who'd pleaded with his parents and grandmother to come home early when he heard how miserable she was without him in the way he'd watched her on their three block walk. A peek of the man who made sure she was hydrated and somewhat sobered up after a night of partying before he'd let her go to bed when he'd taken her to his medic friend to get her knee examined. And a whole slew more.

It was these kinds of moments in particular that she'd spent the most time thinking about tonight, especially once she'd acknowledged her shitty behaviour and resolved to be a better person. Or at least try. Because despite her best efforts, she couldn't think of a single instance where he had been unkind towards her this week. And the more she thought about that fact, the worse she felt.

"Steph?" Carlos's voice dragged her from her thoughts, and she blinked up at him, embarrassed to find she'd been staring blankly in the vicinity of his crotch. When he saw that he had her attention again, he asked, "Where's the key to the cuffs?" His expression and tone suggested that this might not have been the first time he'd asked the question, but if that was so, Steph hadn't heard him.

"It was in my bag," she explained, gesturing to where her handbag lay slumped and sad looking by the base of the toilet with a jerk of her head. "But Morelli emptied everything out looking for the distributor cap."

One of Carlos's eyebrows arched up in question. "Distributor cap?"

"Can we focus on finding the key?" Steph suggested, a note of pleading in her tone. She was painfully aware of how naked she still was. There was only so much she could do with one hand and a towel. "We can talk once I have clothes on."

"Right." Carlos nodded, his gaze flicking to the towel, a flash of something unreadable crossing his face before he stooped to sift through her personal belongings strewn on the floor. He found it surprisingly fast, and straightened after only a few moments, key in hand as he turned to face her once more.

A step forward into her space had her sucking in a breath and retreating as far as her restraints would allow, and he paused, eyeing her with a mix of curiosity and concern. "I'm gonna need to get closer to reach the cuff on your wrist," Carlos informed her cautiously. "Okay?"

"Okay." She held her breath as he moved closer, staring at the stubble on his jaw, the flex of muscles under his shirt as he reached for the cuffs.

He made quick work of it, and as the handcuffs clinked open, Steph's arm dropped heavily to her side, the rush of blood returning to the limb triggering an intense wave of pins and needles that caused her to wince. That wince turned into a short cry of pain as her arm further protested the change in position by spasming and sending a throb of pain through her shoulder. Caught off guard by the onslaught, she stumbled slightly, her injured knee joining the fray and deciding to buckle under her. Just as she began to crumble, though, Carlos caught her, steadying her before she could collapse and brain herself on any one of the hard surfaces surrounding them.

Relief and gratitude mingled with the pain as Carlos assisted her out of the tub, holding her firmly against his chest. Her earlier embarrassment was renewed, though, when she went to shift her non-throbbing arm out from where it was caught between their chests and she recalled that the only thing covering her front half was the towel. Her backside was completely bare. All Carlos had to do was look down over her shoulder, or glance in the mirror behind her and he would have an unrestricted view of her ass. Jesus, could this night get any worse?

"Easy," Carlos murmured, reaching to the side while keeping her as upright and still as possible. In the next moment, he was wrapping a second towel around her back and tucking it under the arm that had been cuffed. The other end, he held across her front so that she could add it to her grip on the first towel. He talked her through the whole thing, explaining every step so she understood he wasn't trying to grope her, and when they were both satisfied that she was as covered as possible, and her legs were once again solid under her, he released her, backing out of her space.

"How's the arm feel?" he asked, holding eye contact intensely.

"It's sore, but the pins and needles are dissipating a bit," she assured him, testing her statement by flexing her fingers and shifting her arm back and forth a couple of times to gauge the pain level.

"And the knee?"

There was no way she was going to admit to him that part of the knee weakness she'd experienced was due to the fact that he was incredibly attractive and without the filter of anger she'd shrouded herself in, it was almost too much to bear. So instead, she changed the topic. "I think I'd like to put some clothes on," she said, gripping the towels tighter. "And you probably want to get back to bed. I'll let you go."

He didn't move to exit like she thought he would. Instead, he continued to stare into her eyes. Steph felt like he could see straight through them to her soul and was reading everything she wasn't saying.

"I can stay if you'd like to talk." The offer was tentative, like he was dipping his toe in the waters, testing the temperature before deciding if he wanted to wade further in. Probably, he'd picked up on the change in Steph's demeanour toward him and wasn't sure if it was because of the situation, the hour, or something else.

Either way it was her fault. She had put that look on his face, that hesitance in his question. And now that she'd resolved to be a better friend towards him, it felt pretty terrible. A day ago she would have revelled in making him uncomfortable, but now?

"That would be nice," Steph said. "Thanks."

Carlos nodded shortly, turned on his heels and headed out of the bathroom, and through the bedroom, closing the door behind him to allow her the privacy she had requested.

As soon as Steph heard the door click she let out a breath and sagged against the counter. It was hard to ignore all her hurt and be civil, but it was even harder to ignore the desire pooling low in her abdomen. This was new, she knew. Regardless of how hard she had crushed on Carlos when they were younger, the lust she felt now was not a part of it. Perhaps it was that her more sexual side hadn't been properly awakened back then, or perhaps it was the eighteen month dry spell since her last social orgasm making her extra thirsty.

Whatever the cause, being naked in the same room as Carlos had taken her closer to the tipping point than she cared to admit. The look in his eyes, his breath on her skin when he approached. Steph was ready to grip the curtain rod over her head and wrap her legs around him… until he'd blinked and stepped back.

She took a deep breath to clear her thoughts and focused on hurrying through her post-shower routine instead; slathering on moisturiser and the bruise cream, dressing in loose shorts and a tank top, and releasing her hair from the messy bun atop her head. When she made her way out of the bedroom, she found Carlos in the kitchen placing two mugs black tea on the table next to the milk carton and the plastic container that served as her sugar bowl.

"I wasn't sure how you liked your tea," he explained, gesturing to the items.

"White with two sugars," Steph replied automatically as she pulled out the seat in front of one of the mugs. She reached for the sugar to start doctoring it, but Carlos was already there, spoon in hand, so instead she sat quietly and waited for him to finish off the preparation of their drinks before he sat down.

She could feel Carlos's gaze on her as she lifted the mug and took an appreciative sip. Probably, he was waiting for her to start talking, but now that they were both here, she didn't know where to start. She wanted to rant about Morelli and his fucking audacity, but she also wanted to (finally) have a deep and meaningful conversation about Carlos leaving in college and the after effects she'd experienced that spilled over into the rest of her life.

Thankfully, Carlos appeared to have a starting point for them. "Can I ask why Morelli was looking for his distributor cap in your apartment?"

"Because I took it out of his car so he couldn't steal it back," Steph said with a shrug, dragging her gaze from where Carlos's hands wrapped around his mug up to his face. She tried for a smile but between the physical pain and exhaustion, and the emotions simmering under the surface, she couldn't sustain it.

Carlos cocked an eyebrow. "Steal it back?"

"Uh, yeah. I might have commandeered his car this afternoon while I was searching his apartment. And he spotted me in it when I was driving by the gym on Stark street." He'd seemed pissed. His face immediately turned red and a murderous look filled his gaze. Steph hadn't really believed him capable of murder before, but seeing that look changed her mind. Joseph Morelli wasn't just the cocky school hunk with a loose grip on his temper and a penchant for pushing just the right buttons to infuriate her anymore. He was ex-navy, and a cop. He knew how to kill and he knew how to get away with it.

Carlos's brows furrowed, looking like he was confused and Steph gripped her mug a little tighter to stop herself from reaching out to brush the lines off his forehead. "You saw Morelli and you didn't apprehend him?"

"I'm not particularly keen on being out and about on Stark street after my last jaunt," Steph pointed out, flexing her knee under the table at the memory that flashed through her mind. "Besides, I didn't have any of my stuff."

"Your stuff?"

Steph shrugged again. "You know, cuffs, defense spray, stun gun… regular gun. Hell, I didn't even have the little panic button you gave me."

His expression morphed from a tightly controlled curiosity, perhaps with a hint of concern, to full blown frustration with a hint of fear in a millisecond. "You didn't have the panic button?!"

"I wasn't exactly planning to see Morelli when I got dressed today," she said defensively. "The chances of me needing a rescue while bridesmaid dress shopping are pretty slim."

"You just said you searched his apartment this afternoon," Carlos pointed out more calmly, having pulled in his emotions once more so she was left staring at a barely readable expression. An expression that Steph didn't like. It was like he was hiding from her while he was still sitting right in front of her. And it somehow rivalled the sick feeling in her stomach when she'd realised he was gone ten years ago.

"Yes," she said, letting her hands fall away from the mug on the table and drop into her lap. She rubbed the red mark circling her wrist from the cuffs and explained, "I was talking to Deb about how I was at a loss on how to find Joe while we were having lunch, and he suggested searching the apartment. We went there after lunch. Stopping by my apartment to grab my stuff didn't even occur to me because I figured Morelli wouldn't be there."

This news only seemed to make Carlos tighten down further.

"Since I was there and so was Joe's car and his car keys, Deb suggested I search that too, and since I'm lacking in my own vehicle at the moment, and I have the law on my side being a fugitive apprehension agent and all that, I decided to commandeer the Jeep for a bit."

"Being a fugitive apprehension agent doesn't stop you from being arrested for grand theft auto, Steph," Carlos pointed out. "If Morelli decides to press charges-"

"You mean if the fugitive decides to present to a police station to report a stolen vehicle?" Steph interrupted. "I think he's smarter than that."

"Clearly." Carlos's tone was dry. "Since he decided to come after you personally instead."

"I thought he might, and I was prepared for it," she countered.

That one eyebrow lifted as Carlos sent her a questioning look. "If you were prepared for it, how did you end up naked and cuffed to the shower curtain rod?"

It felt like a harsh judgement, which she figured was born from his superior skills and knowledge in this field. Steph thought it unlikely that anyone could catch this painfully observant man Carlos had grown into off guard at all, let alone naked in the shower and then also overpower him in order to cuff him there. Steph had witnessed the aftermath of his skills in a five against one fight at the gym on Stark street. And she'd felt the ripple of his muscles as he led her out and down the street. Not to mention when he caught her just now.

She bit the inside of her lip to keep from moaning at the memory of his solid form wrapping protectively around her and shifted in her seat, wincing at the ache in her back. Now that the adrenaline of Morelli's ambush and Carlos's rescue was gone, the pains she'd developed while waiting for Morelli were creeping back in.

"I waited in the bushes downstairs for hours," Steph explained. "I had my stun gun and cuffs and the distributor cap, and I watched the parking lot, but he didn't come. And I was cold, and wet, and cramped, and tired, so I came back upstairs and was showering when he finally decided to turn up." If she sounded defensive it was only because she was still tired and achy. Not to mention the residual mortification of having Carlos witness such a spectacular failure. Again. She had been so determined to prove she was capable, But twice this week she'd given him clear evidence to the contrary. "He climbed the fire escape, broke in my bedroom window, and cuffed me to the curtain rod while he searched the apartment for his distributor cap, and when he didn't find it, he left me strung up."

Carlos stared at her with that unreadable expression she was coming to think he lowered into place when he was experiencing emotions he didn't want her to see. Right now, she thought he was probably frustrated, and she couldn't really blame him. She'd pulled him out of bed In the middle of the night because she was doing a really shit job of being a bounty hunter. And all the while, he'd been offering to help, but she'd refused.

"I think I could probably benefit from that training, if you're still willing," she murmured, staring down at the tea.

"Sounds like it," Carlos agreed. "But what about the power dynamic?"

"I…" Steph started, but what she needed to say and what she wanted to say were not only at odds with each other, they were downright awkward. She pressed her lips together, concentrating on rotating her mug an infinitesimal amount to make the handle parallel with the edge of the table. Stalling. A glance in Carlos's direction (but not directly at him) did nothing to boost her confidence, but she sucked in a breath and said what she needed to say anyway. "I'm sorry I've been such a bitch to you this week. Seeing you in the diner caught me off guard and dredged up feelings I thought I'd buried a long time ago." Steph shook her head and reminded herself of what her therapist had said, what Deb had reinforced. "I did bury them a long time ago. Which is the problem. I pushed them down instead of dealing with them, and when I saw you they all sprang out like a Jack-in-the-Box, and I've been letting them control me still instead of dealing with them now."

"You have every right to hate me for walking out on you like that." His words were quiet, his expression still unwaveringly blank so that Steph could only guess at what he was feeling. How he was taking the news.

The lack of visual feedback needled her uncomfortably, but she pressed on, determined to be open and honest. To clear the air. "I don't hate you, though," she murmured. She shifted in her seat, trying to find physical relief from an emotional discomfort. "That's the problem. I've been clinging to the hurt I felt back then, but… Carlos, I miss my best friend." She swallowed, steeling herself to make eye contact with him once more. "There hasn't been a single day in the last ten years that I haven't felt your absence."

She watched something give in his stone-faced expression; some little sliver of his defences chipping away and jerking his eyebrows up a fraction of an inch. Shock? Surprise? Steph felt sure it was somewhere in that realm, though she struggled to understand how the news that his leaving had played on her mind constantly would be news to him after how badly she'd reacted.

Had he thought of her at all since college?

They sat there in silence, staring into each other's eyes for so long that Steph felt sure he wasn't going to say anything to verbally acknowledge her confession. She'd revealed such a tiny piece of her heart with that statement. Was it too much for him? If the fact that she'd missed him was too much, there was no way she could explain that the reason she'd been so utterly destroyed when he left was because she was in love with him.

"I missed you, too," he finally said. And it was like the world around her released its breath. There was hope.