“If I were you, I would’ve yelled something like, ‘Don’t think you’re ever getting back in my bed, dickhead. Not with that sort of shit going down.’ I mean, the guy needs to be put in his place. He can’t just use you and leave you like that. What a jerk!” Fable is all quiet bravado and I admire that. Wish I could yell at Colin and tell him how he really makes me feel.
How much last night’s seeming rejection hurt. How he really didn’t use me. How I sometimes secretly wish he would use me. I went to his bed willingly. I always go to his bed willingly. I can’t stand to hear him suffer, hear him cry out. Sometimes he’ll say my brother’s name. Sometimes, mine.
His pain breaks my heart. It’s a pain he stifles in the light of day. That he semi-acknowledged what we have lit a flicker of hope within me.
That he walked away—again—snuffed out the feeble flame.
I do the same thing, though. I’m stifling my pain, my secret. It’s easier that way. Still doesn’t mean I understand him, though.
“I told him I was quitting, that I was leaving, all of it. He doesn’t want me to go but he didn’t really say why, either, so . . . it’s pointless for me to be here.” I finally lift my head and meet Fable’s gaze. She looks disappointed in me and I hate that. I’ve done that a lot in my life—disappoint people. I don’t mean to. It just happens.
“I don’t want you to leave. Neither does Drew.” Fable’s voice is soft. I know what she’s trying to do. “We’ll miss you, and you know I don’t say this sort of thing to just anyone. You’re the first real friend I’ve ever had. Drew jokes that you defuse me and he’ll pay big money to keep you around.”
My heart pangs at Fable’s confession, at the humor she’s trying to bring to this otherwise serious conversation. She’s my first real female friend too. I was always close to my brother and, yes, Colin. But other girls? Not really. Until I moved here and met Fable and we somehow bonded.
“You’re okay with living here because this is where you grew up, and now Drew needs to finish college. And of course there’s Owen,” I say. Though I wonder what’s going to happen once Drew is recruited by the NFL, because the man is just too damn good of a player not to get recruited.
I know Fable doesn’t want to leave because of Owen, but she’s going to have to make a choice and soon. I don’t envy her that.
“There’s nothing for me here—can’t you see that?” I say. “No roots, no ties. Not that you don’t count, but . . . I can’t stick around here forever.” I swallow past the lump in my throat, pissed at myself. That I can’t admit the real reason I won’t stick around is because I’m afraid my past will catch up with me and I won’t know how to explain it. And that a certain someone won’t freaking acknowledge we might have something together. Something real and beautiful and amazing if he would just open his eyes—and his closed-off, made-of-steel heart—and just realize it.
“Men suck,” Fable says irritably, making me laugh. She grins in return, and I know that was her intention.
“They do,” I agree. “With the exception of yours.”
“Oh, please. He’s definitely not perfect. On occasion, he sucks big time. But yeah. I’m keeping him.” Her cheeks flush the faintest pink and I’m filled with an insane amount of jealousy that I hate to acknowledge, even to myself. I love my friend. I love that she’s found such unconditional love from a sweet, gorgeous guy who wants nothing more than to take care of her.
How I wish Colin felt the same! He has no problem with me taking care of him, but heaven forbid I need him for anything beyond a job and a roof over my head.
Ugh. Fable is so right. Men suck.
“Maybe you should just jump him,” Fable suggests out of the blue, startling me from my thoughts.
“Are you serious?” I don’t know if I have the nerve to just . . . jump him. Despite how badly I want to. I’ve known Colin for what feels like forever. While I’m willing to walk away from him and his generosity, I’m not quite ready to push my luck and put myself on the line for him sexually. Talk about making myself vulnerable.
What if he rejects me? I don’t know if I could take it.
“Hell yes, I’m serious. What better way for you to leave with a big bang than to . . . get banged.” Fable bursts out laughing, the sound downright dirty, and I can’t help it. I join right in.
That’s how her little brother Owen finds us a few minutes later, the two of us howling with laughter at the table as we trade sexual innuendos, the cheesier the better. I’d just let a ball reference fly when Owen ambled up to the table, a confused expression on his face.
We both stop laughing at the same moment, staring up at him in quiet horror.
Grimacing, Owen shakes his head. “I don’t even wanna know.”
Fable and I start giggling all over again as Owen moves into the kitchen to get himself something to drink. I watch him out of the corner of my eye, startled by how grown-up he looks. He’s only fourteen and a freshman in high school but he’s tall, and he’s filling out quickly, with broad shoulders and chest.
The girls will love him.
“Your brother is gonna be a complete lady killer someday,” I say.
Fable sighs, worry filling her gaze as she quickly studies him. “He already is. Now that he’s on the junior varsity team, he’s attracting a lot of attention from girls. I don’t like it.”
She’s gone straight into vigilant big sister mode and I love it. She’s so fiercely protective, I would never want to cross her. “Don’t say anything mean,” I warn her, but she glares at me.
“There’s no one else to protect him from all those . . . she-devils.” I almost laugh but don’t dare. The look on Fable’s face is downright scary. “I’m serious, Jen. They’re all sniffing around him like dogs in heat.”
“I heard that,” Owen calls from the tiny kitchen.
“I wanted you to,” Fable calls back. She leans across the table and lowers her voice. “I had sex way too young, you know? The idea of him doing that . . . freaks me out. I want him to stay a kid for as long as he can.”
How could I break it to her that Owen has been far from a kid for years? I think she knows this; she just doesn’t want to admit it. Only a few months ago she was complaining to me about finding yet another Baggie of weed in his jeans pocket. Though I don’t think he gets high the way he used to, what with being on the football team and following in Drew’s footsteps.
“He’s so tall,” I say, sounding lame but wanting to change the subject. I don’t really want to talk about sex and drugs in reference to Owen.
“Almost as tall as Drew.” Fable rolls her eyes, but her wistful expression betrays her. “I’m such a shrimp. Those two gang up on me and I’m done for.” And she loves the things they do together. As a family. That the two most important men in her life now have a tight bond as, well.
More jealousy flows through me and I shove it down, smiling blissfully at Fable instead. “You three are like a happy little family unit.”
She’s positively glowing at my statement. “I’ve never really been part of a happy family unit before,” she confesses softly.
I have. And I miss it.
Badly.
Colin
She was off tonight and I missed her. Terribly. I know it’s pitiful, but I mirror my schedule to hers as best I can every week. I tell myself it’s so I can drive her to work and I don’t have to worry about her finding a ride home since she doesn’t have a car. Not that she’s my responsibility or anything.
Really, I just want to spend as much time with her as possible.
But today I couldn’t make it happen. We needed more coverage in the restaurant tomorrow night for a special event, so I had to give her a different night off than usual.
Tonight I worked on the next two weeks’ schedule and made sure we’d be working every night together. I have to take what I can get, considering she’s leaving me. Forever. She’s pissed at me and I can’t blame her. I’m the one who had her exactly where I wanted her l
ast night. Half-naked and warm and soft, her body beneath mine in her bed. Her eyes, her entire face, open and full of so much hope, so much want. Seeing all that, spread out before me like the most perfect offering ever created, overwhelmed the hell out of me.
So I gave her some bullshit excuse and walked out.
No wonder she’s done with me. If I were her, I’d be done with me too.
I left work early because I couldn’t take it anymore and besides, business was dead. Wednesday nights are notoriously quiet. The college students seem to pretend they’re studying that one night a week more than any other. Considering it’s still early in the semester, the majority of them probably are. They all start out with good intentions, but it goes south quick. Plus, there are so many weekly events in the downtown area that bring the kids out in droves. Thirsty Thursday is a big one, the kickoff for the entire weekend.
May as well rest up considering the next few days ahead, as usual.
Entering the house, I see there’s only one light on in the kitchen, the dim one over the sink. The house is quiet, no TV on, and I glance around pointlessly, knowing Jen isn’t there. If she were, I’d sense her. Smell her. Feel her.
She has that much of an effect on me, though I’m not sure she’s aware of it. I’m still mulling over everything she admitted last night. How she said she wanted me. Did she really mean that? I know there’s something between us, an undeniable sexual chemistry that brews every time we get near each other. I always figured it was one-sided, since she never owned up to it. Ever.
Until last night.
I replay the kiss in my mind, which hadn’t been much but had felt like everything. I know I want more. I want to slide my tongue against hers. I want to know the sounds she makes when she’s aroused. I want to see her naked, her smooth, golden skin, those long, pretty legs tangled in the sheets. I want to swallow her moans and fill her body and brand her as mine.
Swallowing hard, I go to the fridge and grab a bottled water, tearing off the cap and taking a quick swig before I slam the door so hard the beer bottles inside rattle against each other. I slap my palm against the switch on the wall as I exit the kitchen, killing the light before I start down the hall toward my bedroom.
Frustration thrums through my veins, making me angry—the most pointless emotion in all the land, besides jealousy. Why do I always deny myself? Yeah, I shouldn’t fuck around with Jen. Yeah, she’s too good for me. Her brother was my best friend and I let him down in the worst way—and then sent him off to his death when I should have gone with him.
Making the promise to Danny that I would always take care of Jen had been easy. Actually making good on that promise proved much more difficult. She ran away. I found her almost a year ago, living in her car, stripping at the sleaziest club in the area, for the love of God. She worked most of the night and slept in her car in the parking lot of Gold Diggers.
I’d found her like that. Desperate and hungry and ready to run from me, though I hadn’t let her. I chased after her. Forced her to listen to me, forced her into my car so I could take her home. I’ll never forget how she looked. Like a wild animal caught in a trap. Frantically looking for a way to escape.
We’d always been friends. Growing up, we were close. Danny never mocked my connection to his sister, which I appreciated, because what Jen and I had shared was special.
We don’t talk much anymore, though. She’s keeping something from me and I can’t figure out what. Discovering that she danced and took off her clothes had been bad enough. What more could she be hiding?
Who knows? She’s not telling me squat.
Now here I am finally doing something right. Finally not being a total selfish prick and giving Jen the opportunities she deserves. I can’t hold her back from doing what she wants. It’s not fair. If she wants to leave and find her footing somewhere else, I need to encourage her. Lord knows her parents don’t. They’re too wrapped up in their own problems to pay attention to hers. You’d think they’d be over their son’s death and how it affects them, how it’s damn near ruined their marriage.
Huh. I have no business talking.
Once I enter my bedroom, I methodically strip off my clothes, leaving a trail behind me as I walk into the master bath. I turn on the shower and immediately step under the icy spray, gritting my teeth against the cold blast. The temperature of the water snaps me out of my shit mood and I stand under it for a bit, soaking my head.
Soaking my thoughts.
I finally turn up the heat, shampoo my hair, soap up my body, and rinse. Grab hold of my cock and jerk off to thoughts of her like a boy harboring an unrequited crush. Jen with me in the shower, her body soapy and slick, her smooth skin gleaming from the water. She’d touch me everywhere, her hands wandering all over my skin as she knelt before me. Her lips would whisper over the head of my hard cock just before she took me deep inside . . .
And as I slump against the slick wall, panting, my muscles trembling from the effects of my orgasm, I close my eyes and press my cheek against the unforgiving tile. Wishing she were with me, naked and eager under the spray, on her knees just as I imagined, ready to take me in her mouth.
Just before I grab her by the shoulders and haul her into my arms, press her against the wall, and fuck her into oblivion. That’s what I really want.
But instead, I’m alone. As usual.
“Danny! Damn it, where are you?” I move through the forest, calling his name over and over again.
He’s laughing. I can hear him. Maybe he’s in a tree, hanging from a branch and watching me as I search everywhere for him. All the while he’s laughing at my frustration. Or maybe he’s hiding just beyond the trail, behind a bush. I can’t figure out where he is. All I know is that I can hear him.
“Danny! Swear to God I’m gonna kick your ass if you don’t show your ugly face now,” I yell, stopping in the middle of the trail. The sun beats its merciless heat down upon me, and I rake a hand through my sweat-dampened hair. His laughter rings in the distance, infuriating me, and I kick at a rock, pissed that he keeps doing this to me.
I’m sick of his games. All I want to do is talk to him. See him. Insult him. Laugh with him.
Just like old times.
“Fuck you, Wilder. Come and find me!”
He’s daring me, as if we’re playing some sort of twisted hide-and-seek game, and I trudge on. Ignoring the heat, ignoring how the trail narrows and becomes rockier. More treacherous. I stumble and I hear his mocking laughter, the jackass.
“Don’t slow down, follow my voice,” Danny encourages. “Don’t be a pussy!”
His words anger me and I increase my pace, determined to catch his ass so I can kick it. “Fuck you, Cade,” I mutter, and he laughs harder.
“You can’t get me. I’ve always been the stronger one. The better one,” he taunts.
Not true.
“The faster one,” he continues. “In school, I did better in all the sports. I got the prettier girls. You were always second best, Wilder. Hell, your old man doesn’t even bother to come around and see you anymore. Well, he never really did, did he?”
“Fuck. YOU!” I break out into a full run despite the heat, how tired I am, how the sweat literally drips into my eyes. I wipe at them with the back of my hand and see Danny in the distance. Standing there, his hands on his hips, a big shit-eating grin on his face.
I want to wipe that grin off with my fist.
Clenching my hands so tight my fingers ache, I run up on him, ready to reach out and grab his shoulder, but the next thing I know, he’s on the ground. Lying flat on his back, his entire body still, his dark brown eyes wide and unseeing. Staring up at me with no acknowledgment of life, they’re completely empty.
“No.” The sob falls from my lips as I fall to my knees and gather him into my arms. His body is cold. So damn cold and stiff and I hold him closer, his face pressed against my chest, my face against the top of his head. “Don’t you die on me now, you motherfucker.”
N
o response.
Tears stream down my cheeks and I shake my head. “I won’t let you die.” I squeeze him so tight I know he can’t breathe and then I push him away from me, staring down into his face with dawning horror as he flops to the dusty ground with a thud.
His eyes are gone, replaced with empty, cold black sockets. He’s not Danny anymore. He’s a corpse. A skeleton. His body is brittle, his clothes, his fucking skin . . . gone.
Fuck.
A ragged sound escapes me and I leap to my feet, looking around in a panic. Now I’m lost. And if I don’t find my way back, I’ll soon be as dead as Danny.
“I gotta get out of here,” I mutter to myself as I try to retrace my steps. But it’s no use. As I continue on, I become more and more lost. Until I’ve circled back and there’s Danny again.
Lying in the middle of the rocky trail, a cold and lifeless skeleton. The goddamn skeleton sits up, his black eyes on me, his voice calm as he lifts his hand. Pointing at me, he says, “It’s all your fault I’m dead. I hope you’re proud.”
Another sob escapes me as I fall to my knees again. Hell no, I’m not proud. If I could switch places, I would. I so would. He didn’t deserve to die. Everyone loved Danny, while everyone other than Danny merely tolerated me.
I wish I were the one who died.
“Colin.” A soft, sweet voice reaches through the haze and I clamp my lips shut, trying to stave off my cries. “Colin, wake up. You’re having a bad dream.”
This is no dream. I’m facing my ugly reality every single day. I let everyone in my life down.
Everyone.
“Please, Colin.” My body shakes. Her slender hands are on me, trying to offer comfort. They smooth over my shoulders before she gives me another shake, this one firmer. I had no idea she was so strong. Mentally, yes, the girl can endure anything. I admire her for that.
Love her for that, too.
Love?
Maybe I am dreaming . . .