I’M SO WORRIED ABOUT AYDEN, my stomach hurts. My heart . . . God, my heart is having the most trouble. I’m not sure how to convince it everything will be fine, that keeping this secret for Ayden is the right thing to do. I want to tell someone so they’ll stop him from going through with the treatment, but it feels selfish to do so. Not being able to help his sister has been silently killing him. If this treatment works—if he can remember enough to save his sister—then maybe he’ll be able to finally, finally live his life in peace.
“You smell like vanilla cupcakes.” My voice is muffled as I press my nose against his bare chest.
Ever since he told me he loved me, he’s been getting better with being touched. But he still trembles sometimes, and when things get really hot and heavy, we have to stop before he veers toward a panic attack. Right now, he’s extremely calm, though, at least for him, so I’m going to savor this moment for as long as he’ll allow it to continue.
He tangles his fingers through my hair. “That’s because Fiona sprayed me with some girly perfume crap this morning. She used so much of it that it soaked through my shirt.”
I laugh, nuzzling closer to him. “Really? Why’d she do that? Just to torture you?”
“She said I needed to sweeten up. That I was acting too grumpy and sour.”
“Why were you acting grumpy?” I cross my fingers that he’ll open up and tell me.
“I don’t know . . . I think I’m just stressed and have been taking it out on everyone.”
I inch to the side so I can set my palm on his chest and feel the rhythm of his heart. “Stressed out about the therapy?”
His heart slams against my palm. “I’m stressed out about a lot of things.”
I angle my head back and look up at him. “But right now, you’re worried about the therapy.”
“Are you trying to play therapist?” he teases even though his pulse is still racing.
“Maybe.” I push up, straddling him, and my pulse accelerates as his gaze drinks in my chest. “I just know how you are . . . that you shut down sometimes and don’t talk about your feelings. What you’re doing Monday is super huge, and I just want you to know that you can talk to me, and hopefully, I can help make you feel a little less nervous.” I sweep my hair to the side and flash him a grin. “Making people feel better is one of my many talents.”
“And just how are you planning on making me feel better?” he asks, grazing his fingers across my breasts.
Like every other time he touches me, butterflies lose their mind inside my stomach. “Well, I wasn’t planning on doing that, but if that’s what you want then . . .” I trail off as I lower my lips to his. “I’ll give it to you.”
A husky moan escapes his mouth as I suck on his bottom lip. He cups the back of my head and draws me closer, sliding his tongue into my mouth. My body doesn’t feel like it’s under my control anymore as I rock my hips against his. He groans, but stiffens. I know he wants to do this just as much as I do—I can feel his hardness through his jeans. But wanting and having are two different things with Ayden, and I wait for him to stop us, like he usually does.
But after counting under his breath, he kisses me more fiercely as he grinds his hips against mine. He repeats the movement over and over again, moaning and gripping onto my waist. My hips move rhythmically with his as I lose myself in him. My hands drift down his chest and to the top of his jeans. I want to touch him like he touches me.
Touch him, touch him, all over.
Never let him go.
I wait for him to stop me and when he doesn’t, I undo the button of his jeans. His stomach muscles tense, but he continues kissing me. With a nervous breath, I dip my hands inside his boxers.
He groans something incoherent about trusting me as his body trembles. I worry I’ve pushed him too far, but then he seals his lips to mine and kisses me so forcefully I swear I’m going to have a bruise. I fall blindly into the moment, part of me wishing I never had to return. That I could just stay this way, him and I in this perfect place where he lets me touch him.
If only I could hold on forever.
Hold onto him forever.
He’s come too far
Just to fall all over again.
I can’t lose him.
The fear is always there in the back of my mind that therapy is going to change him, remind him why he has such a difficult time letting people touch him.
What if I lose him?
“You’re not going to lose me,” he breathes raggedly as he blinks up at me, his eyes glossy, like he’s high from our kisses.
“Did I say that aloud?” I sound breathless. “Sorry, I thought I was talking to myself in my head.”
He chuckles. “You know that makes you sound kind of crazy.”
“Good for me you already love me,” I tease. “Crazy or not, you’re stuck with me now.”
“That’s perfectly okay with me,” he says. “Just as long as . . . as long as you’re okay with being stuck with me.”
I don’t answer with words. I answer with a kiss.
We make out for at least another hour before we put our clothes back on and lie down on my bed side by side.
“You should just spend the night,” I say as I trace the folds of his fingers.
“I wish I could, but I don’t think your dad would appreciate coming home to that.”
“My dad’s way more chill than he was when he first learned about us.”
“Yeah, maybe . . . But since I want him to stay chill, I think I should probably not be in your bed when he gets home.”
I jut out my lip, knowing he’s a sucker for the move. “That sounds like no fun at all.”
He laughs, shaking his head as he rolls on his side. “As much as I love giving you your way, I can’t this time.”
“Oh fine.” I sulk. “Can we at least do something fun tomorrow, though?” Before Monday when everything could change.
“I actually promised Everson I’d go to his football game with him.” He strokes my cheekbone and my eyelashes flutter uncontrollably. “You should come with me.”
“To a football game? Blah.” I make a face. “But if that’s what you’re doing, then count me in.” I dazzle him with a grin. “Man, it’s a good thing I love you.”
A small, rare smile graces his lips then he kisses me again.
“You taste minty,” he whispers against my mouth. “And kind of sugary.”
“That’s because I just ate mint chocolate chip ice cream before you came over.”
He takes another taste, before propping up onto his elbow. “Tell me something happy. I need happy right now.”
“Happy, huh?” I drum my finger against my lips. “Well, today at school, I won an award for that project I entered in that art contest.”
“Really?” The pain in his eyes briefly diminishes. “That’s amazing, Lyric, seriously.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty cool. The sucky part is the award came with a scholarship, which I have no use for at the moment. My mom wasn’t very happy about it, which I guess I get. I mean, she’s an artist, and it’s pretty baffling to her that she has a daughter who’s turning down an art scholarship. I had to explain to her that while I love to draw, I’d much rather be singing and spreading my awesomeness through music, even if sometimes the thought of singing onstage makes me want to puke.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’ve been doing amazing with your stage fright.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” She mulls over something, seeming reluctant. “Can I ask you something?”
“You can ask me anything.”
“What do you want to do?”
His fingers trail down my neck to my chest. “What do you mean?”
I roll on my side and hitch my leg over his hip. “I mean, when we graduate. Do you think you’ll go to college ever?”
“Maybe . . . I actually haven’t really thought about it too much.”
“Well, now that you are thinking about it, can you see yourself tied
down with classes?” I ask, eager to hear his answer.
“Not really.” He contemplates his answer. “I honestly just want to play my guitar. It makes me feel calm inside and happy.”
I smile at that. “I don’t think you’ve ever said that before.”
“Said what?”
“That something makes you happy.”
“You make me happy too,” he says softly.
“It’s nice to hear you say that, Shy Boy. “ I wink at him. “My life is now complete, which makes me very, very happy.”
A ghost smile rises on his lips. “Good, I’m glad you’re happy.”
“Of course I’m happy. I get to be here with you.”
I expect him to argue that there’s no way I could be happy with him, but surprisingly he doesn’t.
Progress.
We spend the rest of the night talking and stealing kisses until midnight rolls around and he leaves to go home. I watch him through my window as he rounds the fence and heads up his driveway, only turning away when he’s made it safely into the house.
Like everyone else, I constantly worry that at any moment those creepy people who are after Ayden are going to slink from the shadows and steal him away. Every night when I close my eyes, I dream of the days when I won’t have to worry about losing him. That he’ll be safe. That he’ll be free of them.
Because I know those days will come.
I won’t let myself believe anything else.
Sunday flies by quicker than I want it to, and before I know it, Monday arrives. Ayden’s appointment is after school, and I’m severely distracted during classes, stressing over what’s going to happen.
“Why are you acting all twitchy?” Sage, the drummer in my band, asks during math class.
“I’m not acting twitchy.” I lie, unsure what to tell him since he doesn’t know much about Ayden’s situation.
He rakes his fingers through his blue hair, eyeballing the pen I’m tapping madly against the desk. “You aren’t, huh?”
I cease the tapping and slump back in my seat. “There’s just some stuff going on, and I’m having a hard time handling it.”
He shoves up the sleeves of his grey shirt, revealing the multiple tattoos on his arms. “That doesn’t sound like you. You always seem like you can handle anything.”
“I try to, but I can’t always be perfect.” I flash him my pearly whites. “Everyone’s got to have their flaws, and while mine are super small, I do have them.”
“I wasn’t saying you have to be perfect . . . I was just . . .” He studies me, fiddling with a piercing in his brow. “Is this about Ayden?”
Sage used to have a crush on me so whenever he mentions Ayden, things get a little weird and uncomfortable. But right now, I’m more concerned he might know what’s been going on with Ayden. I have no idea how he’d know, but Ayden is a private person and would freak out if Sage or Nolan, the bassist of our band, found out.
“No.” I glance at the clock. “Everything’s fine with Ayden.”
“Are you sure?” he questions, staring me down. “I know you’ve been struggling with him leaving the band . . . You’ve been distant at tryouts. It’s got to be hard, trying to replace him.”
“It’s not about that.” I chew on the end of my pen. “Well, it does kinda suck balls that we have to replace him, especially when everyone that’s tried out sucks balls too.”
“I think that might be the meanest thing I’ve ever heard you say.” He seems amused by the fact.
“Why? I don’t tell them they suck balls.” I sigh when he keeps grinning at me. “Okay, I know I’m being a total Debbie downer right now, but seriously, how are we supposed to rock this tour if our guitarist can’t carry a tune? We need to find someone spectacular. Or at least someone who can hit all the notes.”
“Would you relax? We’ll find someone,” he reassures me, sitting back in the chair.
I don’t want to find someone. I want Ayden.
The idea of being on the road, touring, is freaking amazing, and I know I’ll go even if Ayden can’t. But being away from him for that long is going to be torturous. Plus, the people who’ve tried out are in no way as musically talented as Ayden.
“But you might have to stop comparing everyone to Ayden,” Sage says. “We might just have to settle for someone who’s not as good as him.”
“I know,” I say, even though it kills me. It’s time for me to start sucking it up and being the ever-so-amazing optimist I know I can be. “That one dude with the green hair might have potential.”
He grins. “There’s the Lyric I know.”
“She’s just a little tired.” I pretend to take a bow. “But she decided she needed to quit hiding being her exhaustion and make a grand appearance.
We bust up laughing, but then the teacher forces us to quiet down.
A half an hour later, the final bell rings, dismissing school for another day. I hurry out of the classroom and zigzag through the packed hallway, making a beeline for Ayden’s locker. I try not to freak out when he’s not there. While he promised me I could go with him to the therapy appointment, I worry he’ll pull a classic Ayden move and try to go without me, thinking he’s protecting me somehow.
I bounce up and down on my toes, scanning the people lollygag through the halls, and then watch amusedly as Sage makes a U-turn when he spots my friend Maggie heading in his direction. The funny thing is, she does the same thing when she notices him. The two of them have acted so awkward since they almost hooked up. From what Maggie told me, they were both so wasted it ended up being a disaster, and they’ve barely been able to look each other in the eye ever since.
“What are you smiling about?” Ayden asks, appearing by my side out of nowhere, like a freaking ninja.
He’s wearing a pair of black jeans and a grey shirt, and strands of his dark hair hang in his eyes that carry so much sadness. Although not as much as they used to.
“It’s nothing,” I say, shamelessly checking him out. “I was just laughing at Maggie and Sage and how they run away from each other every time they’re about to cross paths.”
He spins the combination and opens his locker. “I told you it’d never work out between them.”
“Yeah, I know, but I kind of hoped it would.” I slip my arm through the strap of my backpack and shrug when he shoots me a really look. “What can I say, I’m a dreamer.” I sing the last part. “Who wants everyone to find love.”
He laughs, but his expression conveys his nerves.
“How are you doing?” I recline against the locker beside his as I wait for him to put his books away. “I mean, are you nervous?” I shake my head. “Sorry, that’s a really lame question, isn’t it? Of course you’re nervous.”
“No question you ask is lame.” He bumps the locker shut and slings his backpack over his shoulder. “I’m a little nervous, but at the same time, I’m kind of not . . . It’s strange . . . I’ve been carrying so much pain and fear around with me ever since I came out of that house, but just the idea that maybe I’ll finally put some of this behind me makes the pain and fear feel less heavy . . . If that makes any sense.”
“It makes perfect sense.” I lace our fingers as we make our way down the hallway toward the exit doors. “You’re going to let me hold your hand while you do the treatment, right?”
“If Dr. Gardingdale will let you.” He dazes off, and God knows where his thoughts are headed. Probably somewhere dark and filled with self-torture.
I need to distract him.
“My parents are going on a trip to Paris with my aunt and uncle,” I say as we step outside into the sunlight. “They’re going while I’m on tour, though, so I don’t get to go.”
“Sucks for them,” he says, looking at me. “They’re going to miss out on all the fun that would have come with bringing you.”
I press my hand to my heart, giving him my best playful grin. “Hey, that’s what I said too. But they just don’t get it.” I lower my hand to my side. “It�
��s good, though, that my dad’s spending time with his half-sister. And I have cousins now, so that’s cool. There was just too much pressure being the only child in the entire extended family.”
“Pressure?” he asks as we reach his car.
“Yeah, you know, to carry on the family name as awesomely as my rock star dad did. My grandma’s said it to me a couple of times.” I don’t really feel that pressured. My parents and grandparents have always been cool about not pressuring me to be anything other than myself. I’m just trying to talk about anything other than the treatment and the tour.
“I’m sure you’ll do fine.” He opens the passenger door for me. “You’re already going on a tour and you’re only eighteen. That’s a pretty amazing accomplishment.” He smiles, but it’s forced.
I know he wants to go on the tour. Wants to live a normal life. Well, as normal of a life as any other band member.
Hurts, hurts, hurts,
All the time.
Watching him silently hurt.
The pain, the despair
He carries inside
It’s got to be making him lose his mind.
Driving him to the edge
Of a place I can’t let him go.
“Yeah, I know.” My mood goes kerplunk as I climb into the car.
Only a few more hours and then it’s time. Only a few more hours and I might lose him.
Ayden suddenly freezes as he ducks to get in, and his gaze sweeps the grassy area across from the parking lot.
“Is everything okay?” I track his gaze to a woman wearing a red raincoat, standing in the midst of a sea of people dressed in summer attire. “Do you know her?”
He stares at her a beat longer, only looking away when the woman turns and gets swallowed up by the crowd. “Stay here.” He closes the door and jogs back to the cop vehicle parked a few spaces behind us.
He says something to the officer before walking back to the car and climbing in.
“What was that about?” I ask as he shuts the door.
“I’m not sure, but the woman who chased me into the woods . . . She was wearing a red raincoat.” He starts up the engine and locks the doors. “I don’t think it was her, but I still thought I’d tell the officer.”
Unraveling You Series: The Complete Set Page 45
