Forever Craving You

by Nia Arthurs

  He stiffens. Looks at me.

  I push because I’m genuinely curious. “Cobie says you don’t drink because of something that happened when you were younger.”

  For a long moment, Ollie just stares at me and says nothing.

  I start to wonder if I’ve ruined my entire plan by being nosey when he lifts his shirt. Shows off a mass of rock-hard abs. Twists slightly to reveal a tattoo running up his side. A skull, hollowed eyes filled with roses.

  “I got that in prison when I was nineteen,” he rumbles.

  “P-prison?”

  He nods.

  My breath thickens.

  Ollie’s… a criminal.

  I mean, he doesn’t look like someone you’d necessarily want to meet in a darkened alley in the middle of the night, but he’s treated me—and everyone—with so much kindness and respect that I pretty much dismiss the tats and the muscles and the scowl he favors because his actions overshadow them.

  Besides, I know better than to judge books by their covers.

  I’ve met—screwed—executives in suits and ties, slicked-back hair, perfect skin and perfect smiles who belong in jail cells.

  External appearance means nothing to me.

  But now Ollie’s telling me he’s an ex-con?

  “I was eighteen. Coming back from a party. Driving piss drunk on the road. An idiot.”

  I gasp.

  It’s not that the story is shocking.

  I watch the news.

  I know what he’s talking about.

  But Ollie?

  He looks past my shoulder. Eyes hazy. He’s not here with me anymore. He’s gone off to that time, to that mistake.

  He’s embracing Regret now.

  “It was raining. I lost control…”

  “Ollie—”

  “I hit a car.”

  “You don’t have to tell me.”

  “Someone was in there.”

  “Stop.” I press a palm to his shoulder. Lean over. Struggle to catch my breath.

  My hair covers my face. Hides me from his tightening gaze.

  It’s too real.

  Too raw.

  Ollie’s trusting me with his darkness.

  I don’t deserve that kind of honor.

  I came here tonight to use him.

  To relieve myself of a frustration that’s been slowly consuming my days.

  To take and ride and exhaust his gorgeous, perfect body.

  My hands are too stained—by selfishness and insecurity—to hold his heart.

  “Chandra?” His fingers brush my cheek.

  “Huh?”

  “I want you to know that I’m more screwed up than you think. I’m not a billionaire. I can’t buy you a lot of fancy things. And saying all that out loud, I realize I’ve done more to hurt my case than help it.” He scrunches his nose in an uncharacteristically boyish way.

  I chuckle.

  “But I like you. A lot. And I’m willing to give you everything I do have. If you think that can be enough for you.”

  My soul stirs.

  Tears gather in my eyes.

  I doubt I’m worth Ollie’s effort.

  So I don’t answer.

  Not with words.

  Leaning over, I kiss him.

  Slowly. Intimately.

  Letting him know he’s touched the darkest void in my heart. Brought light. Brought hope. Something only he could accomplish.

  And then I help him take off his shirt.

  Stake my claim over his tattoos.

  All of them.

  Every inch.

  He shudders.

  With effort, pushes me off.

  Eyes hazy, he licks his lips. “There’s more to the story.”

  “I don’t have to know the rest,” I whisper. Press my mouth to his shoulder. To his neck. My breath is ragged. Thick.

  Ollie’s vulnerability has transcended my desire for him to a wild, untamable plane. One I’ve never experienced before.

  There’s no acting here. No fake gasping and forced moans.

  Everything I feel right now, every white-hot course of pleasure is real. It’s mine. It’s his.

  We kiss again.

  Me on top, conscious of his leg.

  Barely.

  I’m not really in my right mind so he’s probably being jostled more than he should.

  I pull back. Push myself up using his strong shoulders. Tuck my dangling hair behind my ear. “It’s enough.”

  His eyes soften with something I can hardly understand.

  Love.

  Heart beating loudly, fingers trembling, I descend and devour him.

  19 Ollie

  “Bro!” Teale’s voice jars me from sleep.

  I sit up groggily. Shade my eyes from the sunlight creeping past the blinds in my bedroom.

  How did I get here?

  The last thing I remember is holding Chandra in the couch after…

  The door bursts open. “Rise and shine, buddy!”

  Teale bounds in.

  Grabs the shade.

  Flings it open.

  I throw up a hand and turn my face away.

  The light… it burns.

  “You decent?” he asks.

  I peer beneath the blanket. Notice I have my boxers on.

  I scratch my head. Don’t remember putting those back on either.

  There’s a persistent, aching throb in my ankle.

  Worse than yesterday.

  “How’s the ankle?”

  “Not so good.” I wince. Try to swing it out of bed so I can use the bathroom. Grit my teeth when flames of agony sweep up my entire leg.

  “Whoa.” Teale stares with wide eyes at my foot. “You completely messed that up. What happened yesterday?”

  “I…”

  The memories sweep back in rapid succession.

  Chandra.

  Me.

  The couch.

  She’d tried to be conscious of my injury, but I insisted on taking control back. Like a man. Letting her do all the work our first time went against my principles.

  Stupid.

  My ankle wasn’t ready for all that.

  I’m paying for it now.

  Teale reads my expression in two minutes flat. “Dude, you couldn’t wait till you could walk properly?”

  I glare at him. Use the wall to get to my feet.

  “She did you good, didn’t she?”

  “Shut up, Teale.”

  I don’t kiss and tell.

  Even if Chandra about blew my mind yesterday.

  Hence, why I felt compelled to return the favor. Screw the consequences.

  Screw you back, my ankle yells via striking pain.

  I’ll admit.

  Mistakes were made.

  But I wouldn’t take one of them back.

  Last night was… a rollercoaster. Chandra grabbed my emotions and took them for a ride, but I returned the favor.

  I bet she can’t walk that well this morning either.

  “You animal.” Teale grins. Shakes his head. Thankfully, he doesn’t say more. “Hold on to me.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Should I leave then?”

  I straighten. Grumble. “Get over here.”

  “When was the last time you took your pills?” he asks.

  “Around midnight.” Now that I remember last night in crisp detail, I also remember getting swamped by the pain. Chandra worrying over me. Handing me a pill and a glass of water. Helping me to bed.

  She’d been surprisingly tender. Soft. Compassionate.

  There was something about her fussing over me. The nurturing. The sweetness. The Chandra no one sees.

  I’d almost proposed to her right then and there.

  I didn’t, of course.

  I held it together, knowing it would have come off as creepy rather than romantic.

  But I thought about it.

  “Can you head to work like this?” Teale asks.

  I stumble into the bathroom. Relieve my full bla
dder. Wash my hands. “No.”

  He answers from outside the bathroom. “What are you gonna do? I can’t follow you around. I have a meeting today.”

  “Go then.”

  “Chandra left me strict instructions to take you to the hospital first.”

  I warm at the thought of her ordering Teale around.

  That bossiness of hers…

  So sexy.

  No more so than last night.

  But still.

  “I called the hospital. We gotta leave now if we’re gonna make it in time.” He turns his wrist over. Checks his watch.

  I wonder who he’s meeting dressed so fancily. He’s wearing a light blue blazer, white shirt, and pressed pants. His hair is carefully styled with a part to the side that’s slicked down with mousse. Clean shaven. Eyes alert.

  I want to ask, but I know Teale will either crack a joke or flat out tell me it’s none of my business.

  “Forget it. I’ll just handle what I can at home,” I say.

  “Ollie…”

  “I’ll talk to Chandra,” I say.

  He shrugs. “Your funeral.”

  That makes me laugh.

  Teale’s only known Chandra for a few days, but even he understands that no one crosses her.

  “Thanks for stopping by.”

  “Like I said, your girl didn’t give me a choice.”

  My girl.

  I stop shy of telling him to say that again and just nod.

  Teale leaves after watching me take my pills, insisting that he has to do this much to keep Chandra from killing him.

  I limp to my bedroom.

  Notice my phone vibrating on the comforter.

  When I spy Chandra’s number on the screen, my pulse quickens.

  I clear my throat.

  Pat my chest.

  Chase the huskiness from my tone.

  Pick up.

  In a deep voice, I say, “Hello?”

  “Why the hell aren’t you at the hospital?”

  I sink into the pillows, more pleased than I should be given the heat in her voice. “Teale already told you?”

  “Do you think this is a joke? I warned you. If that ankle’s still swelling in the morning, you should get it checked.”

  “And what should I say when the doctor asks why it got worse?”

  There’s a long pause.

  I imagine her pressing her tempting lips together.

  Eyes darting to the left to make sure Zania isn’t listening.

  Beautiful skin darkening with a faint blush that her ebony tone carefully shields.

  “Don’t pin that on me. I told you not to over do it last night, but you just had to prove a point.”

  “A point you enjoyed, if I remember correctly.”

  “That’s…”

  I laugh when she goes quiet.

  “Look, that’s not the issue here,” she snaps back.

  I pull the phone closer to my ear.

  Sink into the pillows propped up on the headboard.

  It feels good. Hearing her voice this early in the morning.

  There are so many reasons why I should stay away from her, but I don’t give a damn anymore.

  I’ve tried to fill the emptiness in my chest with other things—the gym, weightlifting, women—but nobody’s gotten to me like Chandra has.

  No one else makes me this happy.

  Chandra sighs. “Why won’t you go to the hospital?”

  “The doctor will just repeat what he said yesterday. That’d be a waste of time.”

  “Ollie.”

  “If you’re so concerned, come over and nurse me tonight.”

  “We’re not having sex ‘till you’re healed.”

  I chuckle.

  “I’m not playing, Ollie.”

  “I know you’re not. But that wasn’t a come-on. I mean it. Come over tonight.”

  Her end of the line goes silent.

  I lower my voice. Coax her gently. “I’d take you out if I could, but since I’m homebound at the moment, I can only do so much. Let me cook a meal for you.”

  “No offense, but I heard white people don’t put seasoning on their chicken and I’m not about to endure the torture.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Am I wrong?”

  “You are.”

  She snorts.

  “Just wait. I’ll make you eat those words.”

  “I’d rather eat spicy words than bland chicken.”

  My smile stretches my lips. “I broke one stereotype last night. What makes you think I can’t break another?”

  “I thought you were humble, but you’re really full of yourself, aren’t you?”

  “Full isn’t the word I would use. Well-endowed, maybe?”

  “Just because it’s true doesn’t mean you should be cocky.”

  “Pun-intended?”

  “You’re a comedian now?”

  “Among other things.” I grin. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

  “I thought I saw everything last night.”

  I chuckle. “That was only the beginning. Just wait until my ankle’s better.”

  “And here I thought your sprained ankle was what made things exciting.”

  I laugh.

  I’m doing that a lot lately.

  Because of her.

  “In any event, prepare yourself. I’ll cook and then I’ll introduce you to my world.”

  “What world is that?”

  “Japanese Anime.”

  Chandra chuckles. “Wow… I’m dating a nerd?”

  I latch on to the first part. “Dating?”

  She goes quiet.

  I caught her.

  “We’re dating now?”

  “What? Zania? Yes?” Chandra’s a terrible actor. “Sorry. I’ve got to go. There’s an emergency with the brownies.”

  “An emergency?” I play along.

  “Yeah, they’re… not brown enough.”

  “A tragedy.”

  “Well, doctors save lives. Zania and I save desserts.”

  “Very noble.”

  She coughs. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  “Looking forward to it.”

  Chandra hangs up quickly.

  I chuckle, amused.

  Beyond the prickly, stay the hell away exterior, there’s an adorable quirkiness to her that I find extremely endearing.

  Still smiling, I pick up my phone again and called Jenine. She asks a million questions and expresses how worried she is about ten times. It takes a solid five minutes before I can give her the information I need to convey.

  After, I browse on my phone for recipes and finally settle on one I think Chandra will enjoy.

  The smile on my face is permanent.

  I’m really looking forward to our date tonight.

  20 Chandra

  I end my call with Ollie and close my eyes, smiling softly. He’s so… normal. Down-to-earth. I love it.

  “Who was that?” Zania asks.

  I spin.

  Notice her standing in the doorway of my office. “Nobody.”

  “Nobody has you grinning ear-to-ear?”

  “I heard he cracked all the plates too.”

  Zania stares at me like I just rapped a few bars in Spanish.

  “You know,” I twirl my fingers, “Mr. Nobody. The poem by Waltar de la Mare.”

  The blank stare deepens, joined by a little strip of drool.

  “Forget it. Did you need something?”

  “Cobie is here.”

  My eyebrows scrunch. “Why didn’t she just come to my office like usual?”

  Zania shrugs. “She seemed hesitant, like she didn’t know if you’d want her there.”

  I frown. Cobie and I haven’t spoken since our heated discussion in the hospital yesterday, but she’s never been the type to shy away after a disagreement.

  “Did you two fight?” Zania asks.

  “I wouldn’t call it a fight…”

  “What did you do?”r />
  I press an offended hand to my throat. “Why assume I’m the bad guy?”

  “Aren’t you always?”

  I roll my eyes. “You’re fired.”

  Zania laughs.

  “I mean it!”

  “Yeah, okay,” she says flippantly before leaving.

  With a smile and a shake of my head, I tuck my cell phone away and stride into the main hall.

  Chatter fills the air.

  Brew Drop’s customers run the gamut of races and ages, but the nearby high school let out a couple minutes ago, so we’re flooded with kids.

  The students’ bright grins and eyes full of hope take me back to my own high school days.

  Sans the smiles.

  And the hope.

  In fact, my high school experience wasn’t as perfect as it seemed on the outside.

  Especially sophomore year.

  It was the year I met my first serious boyfriend.

  Mom introduced him. Pushed me at him.

  “He’s the son of the bank president. He’s nice.”

  He wasn’t nice.

  Not at all.

  But Mom didn’t care.

  My eyes catch on my best friend, the sight jarring me from the stormy thoughts. She’s standing at the counter, wearing a plain white T-shirt and jeans. Her teeth catch on her bottom lip.

  She’s nervous.

  Her mouth relaxes when she notices me. She smiles uncertainly. Frizzing curls tremble as she tilts her head. “Hey.”

  “Hey.”

  I nod to one of our regular customers and then jerk my chin to the back. “My office?”

  “Sure.”

  She follows me in. Closes the door.

  I whirl around.

  We talk at the same time.

  “I’m sorry for…”

  “I shouldn’t have…”

  We stop.

  Giggle.

  “Me first.” Cobie presses brown hands to her chest. “I’m sorry for what I said at the hospital. I don’t want to fight. I just hate seeing you hurt. And I feel like Rick is a huge mistake, but if you want him… even though I don’t necessarily agree with your decisions, I’ll be there for you.”

  I push out my bottom lip, touched.

  That’s why Cobie’s my homegirl.

  Even in the past, she’s always had my back. Most of the time, she didn’t understand why I made the choices I did, but she was there—the only one who was—to help me put the pieces back together.

  “Hug it out?”

  I embrace her.

  She pats my hair. “Next time we fight, don’t avoid the apartment. I was worried when you didn’t come home. Thought I’d pushed you on Rick.”