Charade

              Yeah I like her skirts. Easy access. And from the feel of things, she wants me just as much as I want her.

              I lay her on the bed and clothes are coming off. There’s no talking. No laughing. Nothing but eager hands and sad eyes.

              She’s so fucking sexy, all smooth skin and feminine curves. As screwed up as it is, I try to avoid her eyes. Don’t want her to look in mine either. Just want to feel her heat wrapped around me instead of the cold pain we both feel.

              I grab a condom from my pants and rip it open with my teeth. I don’t want to think about or feel anything, but Cheye

              She’s lying sideways on the bed. I put my hands flat on the mattress, one on either side of her head.

              And we don’t move. She’s beneath me and I’m leaning over her and I want to push home, but I can’t move. Why the fuck can’t I move?

              Her hand slides up, wraps around my neck and threads through my hair. That’s all I need. My eyes don’t leave hers and hers mine as I push inside. Just being inside her makes me forget everything else. She feels so fucking good. Suddenly, my eyes can’t leave hers as I move, doing what both of us need me to do.

***

              “I should go…” Cheye

              “Yeah?” I kiss her shoulder, letting her know I’m up for another round if she is.

              “Yeah,” she replies, so I ease away from her. I don’t hide the fact that I’m enjoying the view as she gets dressed. She’s gorgeous. She knows it. I know it. I’m not going to pretend she isn’t.

              “What about your car?” she asks.

              I shrug. The piece of shit doesn’t matter anyway. “I’ll have Adrian take me to get it.”

              “I can pick you up.”

              “I’ll call you.”

              She stands there for a second, arms crossed, eyes searching everything in my room but me.

              “What is it?” I ask. She still looks nervous. “I just showed you the most painful thing in my life. I think our lines have pretty much been shot to hell, don’t you think?”

              I sit up. Naked.

              “They’re having a service for my mom.”

              “Fuck,” I say. I knew something was up, but she played it off all day. For me. For Mom.

I reach for her, but she shakes her head.

              “Can you go with me? We’re getting together at my aunt’s house after. Food. People. Gregory’s family will be there.”

              I have to hold back not to say something about him, but I don’t. She was fucking incredible with my mom today and I can do this for her.

              “Yeah. It’s cool. I’ll go.” I’m shocked that it bothers me she won’t let me hold her. That’s what I’m here for. To make her forget, the way she does for me. It’s all I can do.

              “Thanks…I…thanks. I’ll text you the information.”

              She walks out of my bedroom. I let out a breath and fall backward on the bed. I have no idea what the hell we’re doing here or even how it happened.

              My door opening makes me look up. I grab a pillow to cover the goods, but it’s Cheye

              “You’re a good son, Colt. You…you’re incredible to her. I just wanted you to know that.”

              This time, she’s gone for good, but she doesn’t leave my thoughts. And for the first time I admit to myself, I don’t want her to go.

~CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO~

Cheye

              No one here even knew who she was. I wonder if I really did. If Aunt Lily really did. If Mom knew herself.

              Do I know who I am?

              The only people here who can claim to pretend to know who Mom was are me, Aunt Lily, my uncle, and cousin. Otherwise it’s my aunt and uncle’s friends. Not a lot of them because most couldn’t be bothered and the ones who are here probably only came out of respect to Lily.

              But Gregory’s here. His family. Of course Lily and Mark’s best friends would be here. They stand on the other side of the black coffin. I don’t even understand having a coffin since all she is, is bones, but I know Lily wants the best for her. She always wanted more for Mom than Mom wanted for herself.

              Colt is next to me wearing nice black slacks and a button-up, long-sleeved black shirt. I wonder if he went out to buy the clothes or if he had them. Not that it matters, but I know him and this isn’t the kind of thing he’s comfortable in so I’m grateful he’s doing it for me. I’m also thankful he didn’t do his hair. It still looks like it always does, sticking every which way.

              His grip on my hand tightens, but I don’t squeeze back. I’m glad he’s here. Hate admitting it, but I need him here. My body is just too numb to do anything about it.

              The remains of my mother’s bones are in a box as dark as the nights she spent in those woods. How much of her can even be left?

              The pastor goes on and on. I don’t focus on what he says, just the feel of Colt’s rough hand holding mine. This rough boy who hates the world, curses like a sailor, but is so gentle with his mom and is here with me.

              I don’t understand how we got here or why we’re in this together, but I’m not sure I could get through this day without him.

              Something else I don’t like to admit.

              My chest tightens again.

              Calm down, Chey.

              “You’re doing fucking awesome,” Colt whispers in my ear and I can’t help but smile at that. Only he would use the word ‘fuck’ at my mom’s funeral.

              The service ends and they have me walk forward first to toss the rose in. Colt stays attached to my side. I feel the eyes of everyone else on me, watching me, waiting to see if I’m going to break down. Inside I have. I’m all cracked apart, pieces lying here and there throughout, but for some reason, it can’t escape. It’s like there’s a roadblock keeping it in and while I’m glad, I want to be free of it too.

              Once the roses are tossed in, we turn around. I keep walking so Colt keeps walking, supporting me as we head back to the blackened car. I can’t believe they rented a car to come in. Mom didn’t give a shit about stuff like that. Though she didn’t give a shit about anything except partying and guys.

              Colt leans against the car and pulls me toward him. My arms go around his neck and his around my waist. My face is in his neck and I think if I was going to cry, this would be the perfect place to do it, yet it doesn’t come.

              “You’re so fucking tough,” he squeezes my waist like he always does. “I just—I see.”

              It’s then the enormity of what I did hits me. I asked him to come to a funeral for my mom, while his is dying. He looks at that box and sees Bev, but he’s here and he’s holding me, this boy who I’m only sleeping with.

              “I’m sorry.”

              “No reason to be.” Colt shrugs. But there is.

              My aunt and uncle get to the car. They’re taking the Colt thing better than I thought. Not that they’re the kind to freak out, but I’ve never mentioned him. Didn’t even tell them he was coming with me. It makes me feel bad. They would love me, if I’d let them.

              Lily pulls me away from Colt and hugs me. She’s crying so much my dress gets wet, but I still can’t push them out.

              My uncle mumbles something to Colt and Colt replies.

              Everyone is walking to their cars now and I just want to get away. Want a minute to myself which I can’t even have because we’re sharing a car with my aunt and uncle.