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“Giving you my full attention, huh? I thought we were watching a movie.”
I didn’t miss the fact that she didn’t answer my question. It was a guy. Motherfucker. I couldn’t tell if I was feeling protective or possessive, because I was seeing flashes of both the i
God. I couldn’t even stomach the thought.
But shit, she was twenty years old, and I wasn’t delusional.
It chimed again, and before I realized what I was doing, I flipped over onto my hands and knees. Crawling the few feet across the floor to her bed, I climbed up onto it. I grabbed the stupid white thing she had buried in the covers. The red light flashed its a
“What the hell are you doing?” She was caught off guard and her voice was shocked and raspy. I’d somehow managed to end up caging her, my legs on both sides of hers, one hand planted on the bed above her shoulder and the other gripping her phone. Her mouth dropped open, her eyes wide with surprise. I was so close to her I could feel her heart pounding, the beat steady and hard. Something inside me screamed to back away because I knew without a doubt I shouldn’t be near her this way, that I shouldn’t allow my blood to burn, race, thrum as I listened to her heart rate escalate. I shouldn’t like her reaction to me.
But I did.
“Who is it?” I demanded.
“It’s just Gabe.”
“And who the fuck is Gabe?”
She seemed to shake herself out of whatever stupor she’d been in, and she emitted a disbelieving snort. “What are you, twelve, Jared? Come on. And who the fuck are you to ask?” she challenged as she plucked her phone from my hand.
I wanted to tell her to watch her mouth and kiss it all at the same time. “Your friend, remember? And friends don’t let friends text dickheads.” Or date them.
“Oh, really?”
“Really.”
Her breasts jostled as she laughed, and I was sure she meant the sweet little sound to be intimidating and defiant. She pushed up to sitting, squaring her shoulders.
God, I really did want to kiss her.
“And just what makes you think Gabe is a dick? You don’t know anything about him.”
I inclined my head toward the clock beside her bed that indicated the time was way past appropriate. “Then what does he want?”
“He asked me to come over and hang out with him.”
“At one in the morning? That’s exactly what I’m talking about. What does Christopher think about this guy?”
“Oh, please. Christopher? Really? And if you hadn’t noticed, I’m not a little girl anymore.”
Yeah, I fucking noticed.
“Well, I don’t like it.” Obviously her brother wasn’t watching out for her. He never had. That was always my job.
“You don’t like it, huh?”
“Nope.” My eyes flitted over her face, searching for something. What, I wasn’t sure. I didn’t own her. I didn’t really even know her. But I wanted to.
She blinked a few times, shaking her head as she tilted a small smile up at me. “You’re kind of ridiculous, Jared. And I wasn’t pla
Relief tugged at my chest while I reached out and again tugged at a strand of her hair, like it was a little co
Suddenly everything felt thick and slow, like honey – my mouth, her eyes, the tension that suddenly filled the air. For a minute, I wanted to pretend that nothing had ever happened, that the years had passed and I was still good and that maybe Aly would see me that way. Pretend that maybe I’d be worth taking a chance on. Right then, pretending seemed like a pretty good place to be.
I watched the lump in her throat as she swallowed. “Why don’t we finish the movie?” she whispered.
“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”
Against my better judgment, which apparently was lacking in every capacity tonight, I settled down beside her on the bed.
She rolled to her side, tucked her pillow under her head, and angled herself so she could see the TV. I lay behind her, my head propped in my hand. I did my best at trying to pay attention to what was happening on the television. Instead all my focus was directed at her.
“So I guess I probably need to know who this Gabe is?” I finally asked because somehow I knew not knowing would eat me alive.
I sensed her shrug, and heard a soft breath of air pass through her mouth on a sigh. “I don’t know, Jared. We’ve kind of been seeing each other for the last couple months. I like him okay, I guess.”
My jaw clenched. This time there was no doubt it was jealousy.
I said nothing, turned my attention back to the TV. For the first time since I’d returned, I truly regretted the decision to come. It was easier not knowing what I’d been missing.
Something inside me twisted. The soft spot I’d always held for her now felt raw. I hated her I guess, hated she would even for a second settle for less than what would truly give her joy. I hadn’t been back all that long, but I already knew she deserved joy. And here I was, the sick fuck who wished I was good enough to give it to her.
Internally I scoffed.
I could wish all I wanted, but it’d never change who I was.
It only took about fifteen minutes for Aly to fall asleep. Her soft breaths evened out. She stirred and rolled to her back. One arm found its way up to drape over her head, her body bowed as she stretched her long legs out, one tweaked to the side.
I knew I should go and find my spot on the couch where I belonged.
But for a moment, I took. Took in her peace. Took in her beauty.
When I couldn’t stand lying beside her any longer, I climbed to the end of her bed, flipped off her TV, and slipped out her door.
Tonight, I refused to sleep. I couldn’t go there. Just for one fucking night, I didn’t want to see. I dug through my bag and pulled out my journal, sat on the couch in the dead silence. I wrote about things I didn’t know but wished I could have.
TEN
Aleena
The next night, moonlight soaked into my otherwise darkened room. Tonight the moon was high, bright, full. I’d gotten home from work to an empty apartment. There was something about a quiet night like this that fueled my imagination and gave me inspiration, even though the product on my page reflected nothing that shone in the sky. My hand swished in quick strokes. The paper felt thick under my skin. I wet my bottom lip, chewed at it a little, then lifted my face to look out my bedroom window again. I didn’t have the best view in the world, just a portion of the parking lot below that was lit by streetlamps, although at least they were dim enough that I could still see a whisper of clouds stretched thin across the sky. I contemplated the sight for a bit, before I turned my consideration back to the sketch pad I had balanced on my lap.
I still didn’t know what to make of it, what to make of him. The last week had left my head swimming. It was like Jared and I were in this constant tug-of-war that neither of us knew how to play, pushing and pulling, attracting and repelling.
Reading him seemed impossible. Sometimes I thought I saw it – him looking at me the way I looked at him – like maybe he wanted to touch me, to experience what I’d feel like under his skin. Because God, there was no way to describe how much I wanted to feel him under mine.
But every time I thought we were making progress, he’d grow cold.
I frowned as I tilted the pad. Realization set in as I shaded in the lines that constantly tugged at the edge of his perfect mouth.
No. It wasn’t coldness in his expression.
It was fear.