“I’m fattening up your rail-thin girl over there,” he says as he holds up a nearly empty bag of marshmallows. He then turns to Candace to give her a wink.
She just laughs and says, “Good luck, fatty.”
I’m relieved to see that she is in a playful mood, so I don’t waste any time when I sit opposite her and say, “So, I want you to come out with Mark and I Saturday night.”
“Jase.” She shakes her head and suddenly that grin that Mark had just put on her face is gone.
I start to explain before she completely shuts me down. “It’ll be low key, promise. Spines is closing early to have a private concert, and I was able to snag three tickets for us.”
“You want me to go to a concert?”
“Candace, seriously? It’s at a book and music store. It’s a private show, but forget about that. You won’t turn me down when I tell you who’s playing.” I know she’s gonna be excited, so I can’t help the smile that crosses my face as I reach into my pocket and pull out the tickets. I hand her the solid black ticket with two white X’s on it.
Her eyes grow wide and she all but snatches it out of my hand when she says, “Are you serious? How did you get these?”
“A friend of Mark’s.”
“Who?” Mark asks.
“Ryan. I ran into him at the gym earlier today. We got to talking about music, and he mentioned the show. When I told him my best friend is a huge fan of The xx, he gave me a few extra tickets that he wasn’t using.”
“Who’s Ryan?” Candace asks as she looks over at me.
Mark speaks up and tells her, “He owns the bar that my band has been playing at.”
She sits back, and I can tell she’s hesitant and debating on what she should do as she stares into the bright fire. I really want her to do this. I want to show her that she doesn’t always need to be scared. That she can be out, be around people, and realize that she’s fine. I reach over and take her hand and try to reassure her. “I really want you to go. You’ll be with the two of us. Nothing will happen.”
“I don’t know. It makes me nervous.”
“I know,” I whisper. “But nothing will happen. You have to start trying.”
Mark gives her an encouraging nod when she turns to look at him. She turns back to me, letting out a slow breath, and I know I got this.
Her voice trembles slightly when she says, “Okay.”
I know she hates it when people fuss over her, so I simply sit back and say, “Thank you.”
“I need more marshmallows,” she says.
I laugh when Mark tosses her the bag, and she starts stabbing them onto her skewer.
“Did you finish your paper?” Mark asks as he picks up the bottle of wine that is sitting next to his chair.
“Yeah. I’m pretty much caught up with everything at this point. I am so ready for Thanksgiving break.”
“I could pass on that,” Candace says as she eats her charred marshmallow.
“When was the last time you spoke with your parents?” I ask her.
She tosses her skewer down and tightens the blanket that’s wrapped around her. “About three weeks ago. Last time my mother called, I hung up on her and we haven’t spoken since.”
“What happened?” Mark asks her as he continues to drink his wine.
“Same thing that always does. She tells me how I’m not good enough, I’m not measuring up, I disrespect family commitments. Honestly, I’m used to it and normally just deal with it, but I don’t have the energy right now.”
“Are you gonna go home then?” I ask.
“Yeah. It’s not worth the backlash if I don’t. I mean, it’s Thanksgiving. I can’t not go home.”
We hang out for another half hour. Mark finishes off the bottle of wine, and he is definitely feeling the effects. I decide it’s time to head out before he turns obnoxious.
As we’re driving back to my place, Mark leans over the console and starts biting along my neck, and by the laughing that accompanies it, I know he’s had too much wine. I laugh at him, but quickly stop when he reaches down and starts rubbing me from outside my jeans.
My grip on the steering wheel is firm, and I try to focus on the road so I don’t get into a wreck.
“We’re almost home. I can’t concentrate with your hand on my dick.”
Mark laughs, and it only encourages him to not let up. Unbuttoning my pants, he grazes his nose up my neck, and then bites my ear. Hard.
“Christ,” I say as I jerk my head away and slightly swerve the car into the other lane.
Mark starts cracking up and begins tugging down my pants. He slips his hand beneath my boxers, and I’m already hard when he starts stroking me.
“You are so fuckin’ hot,” he nearly growls in my ear, and I could almost come from the sound alone.
I grip his wrist and force him to stop. “I’m gonna drive us off the road if you don’t quit.”
He doesn’t let go of me, and I don’t loosen my hold on his wrist either as he begins ravaging my neck. Everything about this car ride home is making me lose control, and I throb in his hand.
I pop the curb as I speed around the corner to get into the parking garage. Mark laughs, and I don’t even give a shit when I turn to park, taking up two spots. I shut the car off, slam the seat back, and let go of his wrist. I practically pull him on top of me, claiming his mouth with my tongue as he jerks me off.
After the fun we just had in my car, I say to Mark, “Hey, I need to talk to you about something,” as we step into the elevator.
“Yeah, I want to talk to you about something too,” he says, and even though I need to tell him about Preston, my curiosity piques.
“Yeah, what’s up?” I ask him.
The doors slide open and we walk up to my apartment door as he says, “It’s about Thanksgiving.”
Opening the door, we head over to the couch to sit down. I normally go home for Thanksgiving, but given the last couple of phone calls with my mother, that’s really not a good idea right now.
Propping my feet on the coffee table, I slouch back as he continues, “Why don’t you come home with me?”
My head snaps up to look at him. I’m caught off guard. “What?”
“Don’t freak out on me, Jase,” he says as he cocks his head to the side. I’m sure he can see the hesitation all over my face.
Trying to keep my cool, I tell him, “Thanks, but I’m gonna stay here.”
“And do what?”
“Look, it would be one thing if your parents lived here and I stopped by for the day, but—”
“I get it. But they don’t live here, and I want them to meet you. So if that’s ever gonna happen, then you’re gonna have to come to Ohio with me.”
It’s not so much the meeting them; it’s not knowing what their reaction will be. Shit, I barely even talk to my parents at this point. Even though he tells me they are cool with everything, I’m not about to put myself in a situation that could backfire on Mark’s intentions. How will they look at me? At us? Us as a couple?
“Are you gonna say anything?” he asks.
I don’t want to hurt him, but I can’t go. I can’t chance the rejection. I’m not ready, not yet. “I love that you want me to meet your family, but I don’t think it’s the right time.”
Shifting to face me, he says, “You know I love you, and you need to know that I would never ask you to put yourself in a situation that would hurt you.”
I know that he wouldn’t, but I also know that people are unpredictable, and flying across the country to meet my boyfriend’s parents after almost four months is a bit terrifying.
“Yeah, I know,” I sigh, and he returns with, “Don’t say no. Just think about it.”
“Do your parents know about me?” That’s probably a stupid question, but I’m curious about what he has told them.
“Yeah. They were the ones that wanted you to come out.” When I lay my head back on the couch and stare up at the ceiling, he says, “They’re totally
cool with everything.”
Rolling my head to the side to look at him, I say, “I don’t know, but I’ll think about it.”
He grins as he leans over to kiss me, and the knots in my stomach begin to loosen.
“So, what was it that you needed to tell me?” he asks, and the knots—they’re back.
“We can talk about it later.”
Ryan has scheduled the band to play a short set for the Thursday night crowd. I told Mark that I wasn’t going to go. I’ve been trying to finish up the requirements for my design before the quarter ends, but I’m worn out and need a break. When I check the time and see that I can probably catch Mark before the end of their gig, I decide to go ahead and go up to the bar for a little bit. I toss on a loose-fitting t-shirt hoodie and run a little gel through my hair before heading out.
When I arrive at Blur, the band is still playing. The place is busy, as expected for a Thursday night in a college town. Thursday’s are always big nights around here.
“Jase!” I hear Mel holler at me when I walk in.
Leaning against the bar, I tease, “Do you ever get a night off?”
“No, never,” she laughs out and when the seat next to me becomes vacant, I get comfortable and order a beer.
I listen to the band play from behind me, and find myself zoning out. I’m not sure how much time passes when I hear Aiden telling the crowd goodnight. When I turn around, I catch Mark’s eye as he steps off the stage. His half-smirk brings me out of my seat and has me wanting to be near him.
“What are you doing here?” he asks, surprised, as he draws close.
“Just wanted to see you.”
“How long have you been here?”
“Not long. Wanna head back to my place?”
Giving me a smile, he says, “Yeah. Let me go pack up my stuff.”
I follow him when he heads back to the stage. Watching him pull the cords from the amp, I turn my head and spot Aiden and Preston. God, this guy just won’t disappear.
Not wanting another awkward exchange, I rush and ask, “You almost ready?”
“Yeah,” he says as he zips up his guitar case and stands to sling it over his shoulder, across his chest.
“Aiden, I’ll catch you later, okay?” Mark says as he jumps off the stage.
I look over at Aiden as he gives Mark a nod, then cringe at that fuckin’ accent that keeps tormenting me.
“It was good seeing you again,” Preston says to Mark as he takes a couple of steps closer. “You should come out with Aiden and me on Saturday,” he adds without taking his eyes off of Mark, and I swear he’s doing this shit just to piss me off.
Things have been so crazy lately that I haven’t found the right time to tell Mark, and now the guilt floods me, along with irritation at this whole scenario, and I snap. “What the fuck is your problem?”
“Jase?” Mark questions sharply.
“What the fuck is your problem?” he throws back at me. “If you have something to say, then say it.”
“What’s going on?” Aiden asks as he approaches, and I look over at Mark, whose expression I can’t quite read.
Shifting my attention back to Preston, I want to knock the shit out of him. But instead, I grit through my teeth, “Nothing,” and then walk away, heading straight out the doors and to my SUV. I’m beyond pissed. Pissed at myself for more reasons than I’m probably willing to admit.
“Jase.”
Mark is right behind me when I reach my car, and I turn and just spit out what I should have told him as soon as I knew his connection to Preston. “Preston and I hooked up. A couple of times.”
“Hell, Jase.” His two words are soaked in disappointment, and it’s enough to send me to a place filled with self-afflicting regret.
“I should have told you when I found out that you knew him, but . . . everything has just been so upside down lately.”
Shaking his head, he asks, “So what was that about back in there?”
I lean against my car, and explain, “The last time we hooked up ended badly. I was messed up and upset with what happened with Kyle and hurting you. I was lost—”
“You fucked that guy after that?” he throws at me, pissed now.
Words escape me as I stand there and drop my head, feeling completely embarrassed.
“What’s wrong with you? Why do you use people like that?”
“Because I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing!” I yell at him. “Because I’ve never done this before and I’m fuckin’ confused!”
“You’re confused? Really, Jase?”
Backing up my words, I’m so goddamn frustrated with myself as I continue to yell, “No! I was. I’m not now. I’m not confused with how I feel about you.”
“Why couldn’t you just tell me? When you knew that I knew him . . . you should have told me.”
“I know,” I say in a mass of failure.
“I feel like an idiot. Oblivious that you fucked both of us, and the two of you knew that I was clueless.”
His words sting. They burn deep when I realize that I’ve hurt him a lot more than I thought. In ways I didn’t even consider. I want to tell him I’m sorry, that I love him and nothing about this was done out of malice, but looking at the pain in his eyes, I know my words would be nothing more than cheap.
When I don’t speak, he turns and starts walking away.
“Mark,” I plead, not wanting him to go.
He looks back at me and says, “Go home, Jase,” in a soft voice filled with disappointment before turning his back and leaving me to stand alone, the one thing I was hoping I wouldn’t have to do again.
Lying in bed, listening to the rain fall, I wonder what he’s doing. I’ve sent him several texts since I got back to my place, but it’s been hours, and nothing. I feel like I was just playing a losing game with him. There was no way to win him with all my issues. I never deserved what he gave me. I pulled back from so many of his touches because of my own baggage. Baggage that didn’t deserve to be unloaded on him.
He took it all and never made me feel like I wasn’t giving him enough. I gave him all that I could, but truth is, it wasn’t nearly enough. He needs more than I can give.
I tried. But I keep making mistakes. Mistakes I can’t take back. I wonder if—for me—there’s more than this, if I’ll ever be more than this. For once in my life, I really tried letting go. Tried letting go of the fears I held inside and gave it a chance. I don’t think I’ll ever be the same after him. If this is all we were ever supposed to be, at least I loved enough to hurt. The hurt isn’t enough though; it needs to be more than this, but I know it won’t be.
Turning my head, I look at the large rain-covered window as the drops twitch down, colliding with other drops, gathering, until the weight takes over and they quickly fall the rest of the way down. Desperate, I reach for my phone. It’s almost three in the morning, but I’m selfish and don’t want to be alone. Walking out of my room, I take my keys, and before I make it to my door, there’s a light knock. Letting out a deep breath, I find it ironic that she needs me at the same time I need her, although for much different reasons.
My heart skips a beat when I open the door to find Mark. What is he doing here? He looks at me, taking his time. Time is my affliction. I deserve it, but I don’t want it. It stands still and pangs inside of me as I wait for him to speak, to tell me he can’t do this, to tell me it’s done with. But I also don’t want time to continue ticking because I want this, even if it’s just a look—I’ll take it forever.
He moves past me and steps inside. Shutting the door, I lean against it when he turns to face me. Time begins to move when he finally speaks.
“What you did carries no weight on what we are; I know that. But you not telling me hurts. I don’t expect for you to tell me about your past, but when that past is part of our present—”
“I know,” I interject.
“You really let me down.”
“I’m sorry. I honestly wasn’t trying to hid
e it from you, I just . . .” I let my words trail when I start struggling to speak around the lump in my throat.
“I know, but I still can’t help feeling disappointed in you.” He takes a moment as he leans against the wall next to me. “I want more from you. I need you to not hold back from me. It’s only fair, Jase.”
I don’t know how to respond because his words are coming out of left field for me. How is he not pissed? How does he see value in this?
“Look . . . I don’t want to pretend that knowing how you used to be with guys doesn’t bother me . . . it does. And running into your past may or may not happen again, and I hate that. But it’s only because I love you. If I didn’t, then I wouldn’t care.”
“I feel like I keep hurting you.”
Releasing a deep sigh, he tells me, “Just be upfront with me. Talk to me; that’s all I ask. I get that this is new for you, but in a way, it’s new for me too. I’ve never felt so strongly for someone like I do you.” He takes a moment before saying, “I’m not mad.”
“I need you to be mad.”
Taking a step toward me, he asks, “Why?”
I walk over and sit on the arm of the chair before admitting, “Because I need to feel it. So that I know that you can see this for what it is.”
“And what’s that?”
“Imperfect. Unequal.” Dropping my head, I release a deep breath before looking back up at him. “I’m undeserving and selfish. You’re worth so much more than what I’m capable of giving you.”
He moves to stand in front of me and takes my face in his hands as he questions me intently. “You don’t think you give me what I need? You think I’d stick around if you didn’t fill up pieces inside of me that only you’ve been able to?”
As he moves his hands to my shoulders, I drop my eyes when I tell him, “My pieces feel stripped bare.” I catch his eyes when I look back up and tell him, “I’m not sure I even have enough of them.”
“Maybe I have what you’re missing. But if you keep holding back, you’ll never find out. You’ll never know how well we can fit together unless you try.” I grip his shirt in my hands, almost pained by my confessions when he affirms, “I need you to try.”