Crocodile Tears: A Boy Meets Girl Story

by Daya Daniels

  She tips her head forward a few times but she doesn’t speak.

  “You’re not judging me, are you?” I ask lifting a brow.

  “No, no, of course not. I was just curious. I don’t want you to forget our—”

  “Liv, I don’t forget...ever,” I say leaning in close to her. I swipe her chin with my thumb and inhale the scent of her skin. She doesn’t wear perfume. I like it. I want to lick her but I resist. Liv meets my eyes and scans my face. Her breathing is erratic and her top lip quivers, giving away her nervousness. She inches closer to my face and lifts her hand, dragging it through my hair. I shut my eyes at the sensation that shoots straight to my dick.

  “You’re very handsome, Zane Presley, and hot.”

  I open my eyes and look into hers that are as blue as the sky in this moment. “I’m glad you think so.”

  “You can have any girl you want.”

  “I don’t want any girl, Liv.”

  Liv lets out a sigh. Her warm breath ghosts against my mouth. She runs her lips along my jawline, like a cat begging to be pet. I inch closer to her, pulling her into me. She snuggles into me and presses her face into my chest, with her arm wrapped around my neck.

  “I like you, a lot,” she mumbles into my T-shirt.

  I laugh a little. “We have a connection, Liv. An undeniable connection and I’m in love with it. I’m so fucking in love with it.”

  She nods and runs her warm hands up along my neck, forcing a groan from my mouth. I press my forehead to hers. The gesture is invasive, intrusive, but that’s where I want to be with her—in her head, in tune with her feelings, her innermost thoughts. This woman makes me want to crawl inside of her and live there forever.

  “Do you want me?”

  “Yes.”

  “You’re not a virgin, are you?”

  “No,” she says in a hushed tone.

  “Good,” I murmur against her lips, before I consume her mouth with my own.

  Liv

  I breathe him in. His hair smells like rain and the grip he has around the back of my neck makes me feel owned, consumed by him. His tongue slides into my mouth slowly. His kiss is purposeful. He breathes out hard into the skin on my face and a shiver runs up my spine, warming that glorious spot between my legs. He does it for a second time and pulls me into him hard. My fingers curl around his forearm. He pulls away and kisses me. I’m lost. I feel like I’ve lost all awareness of where I am and who I am. I sink into his kiss and the feeling of his hard body against mine.

  I’ve never had a man kiss me like this before. Zane knows what he’s doing. He’s undoing me! He takes my bottom lip in between his teeth and nibbles on it teasingly, while burning a hole into me with those slate eyes of his. They’re always captivating, but up close, they’re even more beautiful. I moan into his mouth and shut my eyes. I hear a chuckle leave his throat and he’s kissing me, consuming my mouth, mentally removing my panties. I suck in a breath of air. I’m hot everywhere. His fingers move through my long hair, making it messy. I kiss him back hard, listening to the sounds of his harsh breathing. It’s like a beat and the feeling of his tongue as it tangles with mine is the music. The prelude to something bigger and better. I’m waiting for the chorus to kick in...

  Eagerly, I push my hand up his shirt and feel his warm skin. His abs feel harder than the tree trunk we’re sitting on and his chest is firm. I run my fingers down along his side, curious about what’s underneath the T-shirt he has on. He slows his kiss and relaxes the grip he has around my neck. I open my eyes to take him in. He pulls away from me slowly and lifts his hands above his head, running one through his black hair.

  I feel like I’ve just been dumped.

  “Why’d you stop?” I breathe out.

  Zane laughs, lets out a deep breath and drops his hands on his thighs, allowing them to make a loud slap. “I don’t know. I don’t want to move too fast.”

  “I’ve had sex before, you know.”

  “Yeah. Yeah,” he says bobbing his head. “I’m glad about that, a little.”

  “You’re not defiling me.”

  He laughs and runs his hand over his jaw. “Yes, I know, Liv.”

  “So, what is it?”

  “I like you.” He laughs.

  I shoot him a look like he just stole my favorite doll. “Right?”

  Zane hops off the tree trunk and wraps his hands around my waist, pulling me to the ground. I stand and crane my neck to look up at him. The light has shifted. It’s only made the greenery and the trees around us look even more beautiful. He takes a few steps forward, backing me into the tree trunk. I look up at him, waiting, but he doesn’t speak. He cocks his head to the side, runs his hand over his stubble-covered jaw again and smirks.

  “I like you, Liv. I don’t usually like women.”

  Huh?

  “I don’t understand what that means, Zane.”

  He laughs in an annoying way that makes me want to bite him.

  “You don’t have to.”

  “So, kiss me then?” I say jutting my chin out.

  He places this thumb on my lips and massages them. I shut my eyes, sinking into the sensation. He brushes his lips over mine, right before he kisses me hard. I whimper at the force and my heart pounds at the sensation. I rake my fingers through his hair, when he grinds himself into my stomach, allowing me to feel just how much he wants me.

  “We can do it here,” I suggest.

  Zane halts the kiss and gives me a scowl. “No fucking way, Liv.”

  I shrug. “What’s the matter?”

  “You want me to fuck you in the bushes? In the fucking wilderness?”

  “No,” I squeak out. “I-I-just.”

  Zane shakes his head vigorously and lets out a loud breath. “I’m hard up for it, Liv, believe me, but I won’t fuck you here. Fuck, I don’t know if I should fuck you at all.” He mumbles the last part to himself.

  I push off the tree trunk, narrowing my eyes at his last statement.

  “You don’t want to fuck me?”

  Zane gives me a pissed-off look. “What the fuck do you think?” he asks, glancing down at his hard-on that’s about to rip through the fabric of his jeans.

  I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out. His angry reaction takes me off my line of questioning. He shakes his head and looks away from me.

  I move closer to him, paying close attention to the dirt and rocks beneath my feet. He stands motionless. I wrap my arms around his middle and press my face into his T-shirt. He laughs a little, hugs me and rocks me to an imaginary beat. I shut my eyes and press my ear to the center of his chest and listen to his heart beat. It’s slow and steady just like he wants to be with me.

  I gaze up at him and smile.

  “Those eyes, baby girl. I think you could make me do anything just with those eyes.”

  I giggle and slip my hand down his pants. He jerks away from me and makes a strange noise, right before he straightens. I’ve surprised him and that’s good. He drops his chin on my head when I run my fingers along the insides of his thighs, feeling the warm skin there and his firm muscles. My heart rate spikes when I move up higher, brushing along his hardness. His heart pounds. I drag my hand over the bulge that runs along the inside of his thigh, that has a slight curve to it.

  “Shit,” I breathe out when I realize how big and thick it is.

  Zane chuckles, then groans.

  I massage it and lick my lips. It jerks in my hand when he moans.

  “Can I see it?”

  He laughs. “Yes, but not yet. Not here.”

  “Where then?” I whisper seductively.

  Zane growls. “I don’t know, Liv. Just not here. I want you in my bed when I fuck you. I don’t fuck any woman there, but that’s where I want you, Liv.”

  “It sounds like a rejection, Zane. Especially since you’re going on tour from tomorrow for months. You won’t be home for a while.”

  He takes my chin between his thumb and index finger and forces me to look u
p at him. “Believe me, Liv. I am not rejecting you.”

  I shrug out of his hold and stalk back towards where we were just sitting. I feel burned, deported, rejected, vivisected. He follows behind me. I stand next to the fallen tree and start to weep. I can feel him close. His chest brushes my back. In the next second, his palm slaps the old tree just above my head and a finger traces down the line of my spine using his other hand.

  “Liv,” he whispers drily. “Please don’t cry.”

  I sniffle and wipe my eyes.

  He places his hands on my shoulders and presses his nose into my hair. “I want to spend time with you. Today is one of the best days I’ve had in a long time.”

  “It is?”

  “Yes,” he says, running his lips along the shell of my ear. “Besides, these aren’t real tears,” he whispers, wiping my face with his large hand.

  I choke on my sob and giggle a little.

  “I don’t like crocodile tears, Liv,” he says, poking his finger in my side. “You don’t have to act like this to get my attention. It will only fucking piss me off. Okay?”

  I bob my head a few times. “Okay.”

  “C’mere, baby girl,” he says right before he spins me around and pulls me to his chest.

  Liv

  I bet he thinks I’m a lunatic. Maybe, I fucking am.

  We stand for a while in the quiet, just listening to the sounds of nature around us. It’s so peaceful here that I don’t know if I want to leave.

  When I was little, I used to watch plenty of my friends get their own way just by crying. If someone cared when you cried, to me, it meant they loved you. But for me when I cried, no one cared...ever. It was always my last desperate attempt to get what I wanted. Nowadays, it was my only attempt and it didn’t even work then. I never knew exactly why I did it, until I got older. It was a habit that got me nowhere, because no one gave a shit about me, period.

  Audrey and Tom were off somewhere for the entire week. They wouldn’t be back anytime soon, I knew. If I called, they never picked up. They only answered if there was an emergency. I’d called the ambulance on numerous occasions when I was a teenager, forcing my parents to come back. When they finally made it to the hospital, I was usually all better. I’d faked illnesses and injuries in the past. I’d even called the police claiming we’d had burglaries. The only time my parents seemed to care about me or showed me an inkling of attention was when I was on the cusp of death it seemed. Otherwise, I was invisible.

  I hated them back then. I probably hate them now. I’m not sure. Usually, I wondered why they even had me, if they planned to let me raise myself. I couldn’t remember the last time the three of us even did anything together as a family. At Christmas, Audrey and Stanton travelled. I was never invited. During the summers when I came home from school, they travelled. Still, I wasn’t invited then. I was always left with Olga. They simply were never around.

  I couldn’t even blame my circumstances on the fact that my parents might’ve hated each other, or possibly they were on their way to getting divorced. It wasn’t the case. Audrey and Stanton were probably more in love now than they were when I was a little girl. Maybe they just didn’t like me? Perhaps I was a mistake that messed up their together forever plans? I don’t know. Whatever it was, it fucking burned.

  Each time Audrey chose the vanity mirror over me, I wanted to stab her in the eye with her mascara brush. Every single time Tom sat on the phone discussing his future investments, rather than asking me about my day, I imagined myself stuffing the receiver down his throat. I shut my eyes at the violent images, knowing I would never have the guts to carry them out.

  Zane places a kiss to the top of my forehead and then to my lips. I hungrily kiss him back, tasting him. I want to be with him, even if that means just hanging out.

  I’d never met a man who didn’t want to fuck me. I always thought it was love but it never was. I soaked up the attention like a sponge and opened my legs every single time, for the few minutes of love that followed, only to have my heart shattered when the deed was done. It had only been two guys—a few times with the first and a few more times with the second. The second left a lasting impression with his mouth. They weren’t really memorable encounters but they taught me all the basics, I suppose.

  I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think Zane brought me here to sleep with me. I wouldn’t have objected to it. He was hot and I was lonely. So terribly lonely.

  “I think the world would miss you, Liv—if you were no longer here,” Zane whispers, running his fingers through my hair.

  I smile. “You think?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s not like I’m a big contributor to the betterment of it,” I mumble to myself.

  “Why should you end it all for these fuckers?”

  I laugh and shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe then they’d realize how unhappy I was? Maybe they’d feel bad about how they’ve treated me? Maybe they’d finally see me.”

  “And if they don’t?”

  “I don’t know,” I say in a hushed tone.

  “Well, if they don’t, you’re dead and they go on living their lives. They buy you a box, say a few prayers. People will cry a little and say great things about you—even things they know aren’t true. They’ll weep for their regrets. You know the things they should’ve done or said, or shouldn’t have done or said, bla bla bla. A few months pass of grief after you’re six feet under and then slowly, people just go back to living their lives. They’ll probably think about you once in a while. Maybe even shed a tear or two but the truth is no one’ll give a fuck, Liv.

  “It’s the truth. The raw fucking truth.

  “You’re only hurting yourself by thinking decisions like that will affect anyone...but you. Besides, you didn’t want to do it, that night up on the edge of that cliff.”

  “I was going to.”

  “Noooo, you weren’t. I know what it feels like to be on the edge and you’re not there. I hope you never are, Liv.” Zane laughs out, staring at the ground for a moment. “You wouldn’t have done it.”

  I give Zane a scowl and meet his grey eyes. “I was. I was going to. I swear.”

  He laughs. “It was a near one-hundred-foot drop. That would’ve scared even the bravest of men! If you were going to do it, you would’ve jumped long before I got there. You wouldn’t have thought about it as much as you did. You wouldn’t have debated. You would’ve just fucking ended it. But you didn’t, Liv, because you know you have a lot to live for and you do.”

  I let out a loud breath. “I suppose.”

  “Stop trying to hurt those who hurt you, Liv. It never works.”

  Zane cradles me against him and we just stand there, breathing.

  “Tarver is waiting for us. We should start heading back down the trail,” he suggests.

  “Okay.”

  Zane pulls away from me. I help him to gather up the trash and shove it all into the backpack. The rest of the crackers I toss to a few crows that have gathered around.

  “Tarver is?”

  “My driver. My bodyguard. My pilot. He’s anything transportation and other stuff.”

  “Oh.”

  “He’ll fly us back to Malibu, to my place.”

  “Now?” I ask.

  “Yep,” Zane says, throwing the pack over his shoulder.

  He takes my hand in his and we set off.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Zane

  We sit together at the Steinway & Sons grand piano in my den.

  “You have no furniture.” Liv giggles, looking around.

  I scrub my face with my hands. “I do. I have a bed. There’s a sofa over there,” I say pointing across the room. I open my mouth to say more, when I take in the stacks of books on the floor in the corner of the den that have been in the same spot for the last three years. I was yet to buy bookshelves, coffee tables, and other non-essential shit like that.

  “I do have a lamp. It goes with this here piano.”

  Liv
laughs and hits a few ivory keys. “You know how to play this?”

  “Of course,” I say jutting my chest out.

  “But you’re a guitar player.”

  I drop my head and lean in to her. “Yeah,” I say accentuating the word. “I also play the piano, the violin, and the drums.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.” I laugh.

  “That’s cool. How’d you learn?”

  “I just did. No magic formula. No expensive lessons. I just learned.”

  She nods and drags her fingers over more keys. “Play me something.”

  “What do you want to hear?”

  “Anything.”

  I put my fingers to the keys and hit them slowly, giving her long glances. She giggles watching me and then her eyes drop down to the black lacquer as if she’s thinking.

  “I know this. I think,” she says in a small voice. “It’s Beethoven. Moonlight Sonata.”

  I let out a laugh and keep playing.

  “How do you know how to play Beethoven?”

  “I don’t know, Liv. I just love music, always have.” I pause and narrow my eyes at her. “Oh, I see, you think I’m just some dumb rocker who strums guitar strings all day.”

  “No!” she shouts with wide eyes. “I didn’t say that. It’s just a s-surprise.” I guess.

  “Close your eyes,” I instruct. “Listen to the music—feel it. Let it wash over you.”

  When I open mine, hers are closed. She’s swaying a little from side to side. I make the switch and start playing Debussy’s Claire De Lune.

  Her blue eyes shoot open. “Ah, you’re just showing off now.” She laughs.

  “Maybe,” I say lifting a brow in her direction. “Are you impressed?”

  “You don’t have to impress me,” she whispers.

  The doors to the deck outside are open and the salty air rushes in with each breeze. We’d already been here for a couple of hours. We’d eaten fish tacos, gone through my movie and album collection. I showed Liv the music studio on the floor below. I gave her a tour of the rest of the place but was yet to show her the master bedroom.