“He hit me in the right shoulder,” I explain.
“Do you have any ice?”
“Yeah, in the freezer.”
Avery gets up and disappears into the kitchen. I try to look at my own shoulder and see that it’s turning purple. I gingerly touch it with the tips of my fingers and whimper. Maybe I should see a doctor, I debate. I still haven’t gotten over my antipathy to physicians and hospitals.
He comes back in with a bag of ice and places it gently against my shoulder.
I make a face. “Thank you, Avery.”
“Is it okay, or do you want me to take you to the ER?”
“It’s okay.” I hold the bag of ice in place with my left hand.
“Dale, I … ”
“Don’t, Avery. Not now,” I interrupt.
“You hate me, don’t you?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No, I don’t hate you. But I’m still hurt … and disappointed. You didn’t give me any chance at all to explain.”
“Then explain it to me now,” he says softly. “I … I kept asking myself why you didn’t trust me.”
“I trusted you, but I was scared. All my life, every person—and I mean every single person—who ever discovered the circumstances in which I grew up, turned away from me. I was always the crack baby whose mother died of a drug overdose, who grew up poor and couldn’t make it. I kept feeling there was no way I could be good enough for you. I kept wanting to tell you, but then Pearl came along and told you at the party that I didn’t want to spoil for you. Maybe you wouldn’t have judged me, but you would have worried about who I was, and I wanted to save you from that.” Only then do I pause to think about what he just said. “You had three months to ask me to explain it. Why did you wait until now?”
Avery sighs. “I was afraid you’d tell me to go to hell after I treated you like I did. I couldn’t blame you if you sent me away and never talked to me again.”
“That’s not a good explanation,” I say softly and look away. “I’m cold. I … I’m going to put on something else.” I stand.
Avery takes my hand and rises as well. “Thierry told me that I should stay away from you for a while, because I hurt you so deeply, but at least he kept me in the loop about how you were doing. I know that none of this explains why I abused you and told you to leave, but that’s because I simply can’t explain it. I can’t take back those words; that’s impossible. But you would make me damn happy if you gave me another chance. I want to make up for it.”
“Did you love me?” I ask bluntly, because I finally need to know what he felt for me when we were together.
He lets go of me. “I was madly in love with you, and I still am. Every day without you has been damn hard.”
“You could have come here and talked to me,” I repeat.
“I was scared,” he counters.
I sigh. “What if … if you learn another thing about me that doesn’t fit into your perfect world? I’m not the girl anyone wishes for. I’m only—”
“The girl I want,” he interrupts.
Tears start to well in my eyes. “I’m going to change,” I say softly and disappear into the bedroom. I’m running away from him, I know that, but what am I supposed to do? Simply forgive him and pretend nothing happened? I can’t do that. Grunting and whimpering, I put on an oversized T-shirt before I return to the living room, considering telling him the whole story.
Avery is standing at the door, but he turns around when I clear my throat. “I wanted to wait for you to come back, to say goodbye,” he murmurs.
“You’re leaving?”
He nods deliberately. “Yes, I don’t think you want me here any longer.”
“I thought we could sit down and … and I could tell you the whole story,” I say. “Maybe that would clear up some of the misunderstandings Pearl created.”
“Is that what you really want?”
“Yes, Avery,” I say in my quiet voice. “I want you to know everything, so you can understand why I never told you. So you finally understand me.”
“Okay.” He sits down in Grandpa’s armchair and looks at me expectantly.
After taking a very deep breath, I walk over to the couch and sit down. “Of course I can’t tell you about what happened when I was still a baby, but I can tell you everything I remember.”
Avery takes off his jacket and places it on the armrest. “Are you sure you want to do that? I mean, you don’t have any reason to trust me.”
“Could you just listen?” I ask softly. “It’s difficult for me to open up after what happened, but I want you to know my story. My whole story.” I rub at my eyes because I feel tired, but I’m determined to tell him now.
“I’m sorry. I’ll listen now.”
“Thank you.” I take another deep breath and steel myself. “My mother had me when she was nineteen. She was already on crack and other drugs at that time. My grandfather once told me that I was close to dying during my detoxification, but it seems I was somehow strong enough. He called me a fighter. As you can see, I survived. My mother went through a detoxification, too, after I was born, and it seemed that everything was back to what you would call normal. While she worked, I stayed with a friend of hers. But when I was six, my grandmother died, and my mother’s world crashed. I didn’t really understand what it meant that my grandmother was dead, so I kept asking where she was, until my mother explained it to me between crying fits. She told me it hurt so bad that she needed to take a kind of medicine that would help with the pain. And that I had to promise her I would never tell anyone about the magic medicine.” I wipe away my tears.
“That was when she went from crack to heroin. At night, men would come to our house, and then I would hear my mother scream and moan. I thought they were hurting her, but I was afraid that if I tried to help her, they would hurt me, too. I didn’t think I could do anything. That went on for years, until I started junior high … ”
“That sounds awful,” Avery says softly.
I nod. “When I would come home from school, there was a different man at the house every day. By then I understood that she was selling her body to earn enough money for drugs. As for me, she simply ignored me. She didn’t give me love, or another hug or a kind word after she became addicted again. My grandfather was the one who bought me clothes or shoes when the old ones didn’t fit anymore. He suspected that something was amiss, but I never told him what was happening at our house. I kept glossing over it, until the day I found my mom.” I tell him all this in a rush, glad to get it out. Then I pause to sniffle and wipe away more tears.
“I came home from school, excited to tell her that I had gotten an A on a test,” I continue. “So I called out for her as soon as I entered the house. She … she was lying on her bed, a shoelace tied around her arm, and the needle was still sticking in her skin. I tiptoed into the room and touched her, but she was cold. Her skin was freezing cold. I shook her and started screaming at her, because I thought she was only sleeping, but she didn’t react. Then I ran over to the neighbors’ house. The neighbor took a look at her and immediately called an ambulance, but the paramedics could only declare her death.”
Avery gets up and sits down next to me, pulling me into his arms. I put my head on his shoulder and sob. “But there’s more.”
“I think you just told me the worst part. Save the rest for another time,” he whispers.
I shake my head. “But I want to tell you now.”
“May I hold you while you do that?”
“Yes,” I answer hoarsely and clear my throat so my voice will sound more normal again. “After my mother died, I moved in with my grandpa, since none of us even knew my father’s name. I doubt even my mother would have been able to tell us who he was. I stayed home for about a week to come to terms with the shock, but then I had to go back to school. I went to a new school, but there was one kid who immediately told all the others that I lived in Liberty City. At my old school I hadn’t been popular, but now I was openly shunned.
Well, until I met Quinn.”
“He was part of one of the youth gangs in the area, and he was nice to me, at least until I slept with him. I was yearning so desperately for love and affection that I didn’t even consider the possibility that sex was the only thing he wanted. And after we’d had sex, he assumed I was his plaything. But I didn’t play well, because I wanted no part of him after I realized the truth. I was only fifteen! I did my best to ignore his frightening attempts at dragging me back into his bed, but he kept bothering me every chance he got.” I shake my head when I remember how angry and anxious it used to make me. “You know the rest. I finished high school, I got the job that brought me to your grandma’s house, and now I’m here.”
“And you never had anything like a real group of friends?” Avery asks thoughtfully.
“No. I never even had anyone willing to listen to my problems, apart from my grandpa, who did what he could for me, even though we didn’t have any money,” I answer. My nerves feel frazzled and oversensitive, but I’m glad I said it all.
“Have you ever taken drugs?” he asks.
“Once I had something like a passive high, because Quinn forced me to inhale from his mouth after he had taken a drag from his joint. But I never took anything voluntarily,” I answer honestly.
“That’s good.”
“It is, but … I’ve been told by doctors that I’ll always be extra susceptible to addictive substances of any kind. So far, the only thing I crave is chocolate,” I say softly, trying to make light of it. And you. I may be addicted to you, my inner voice adds.
He smiles at that. “As long as you stick to chocolate, you’re fine.” He runs his fingers through my hair, and I close my eyes.
His presence calms me, just like it did before. It feels as if nothing has changed, although things are different than they were three months ago. Terribly different.
“I wish I could turn back the clock and erase the words I said,” he murmurs.
“That isn’t possible,” I whisper. “But maybe you can make up for them … someday.”
Avery pulls his head back a little and looks into my eyes. “I would do anything.”
My gaze falls on his sensual lips, which are framed by the usual stubble, and then I look up at him again and whisper, “Kiss me.”
I must be crazy to initiate this.
Avery leans down and puts his lips on mine. The kiss is tender, but quickly becomes more passionate. My fingers stroke his long hair, and then I put my hands on his cheeks. The tip of his tongue caresses my lower lip and demands to be let in. Our tongues duel and dance, until we pull away from each other, both breathless and flushed. Avery slides his hand underneath my legs and gets up, carrying me in his arms.
“Where is this supposed to lead?” I ask, surprised.
He freezes. “I guess I misunderstood.” He sets me down on my feet.
“Avery, I—”
He shakes his head. “No, it was wrong to assume you’d want more,” he apologizes.
“I don’t want to sleep with you, but … it would be nice if you could stay,” I say. “So I won’t be alone.”
“I could sleep on the couch,” he says sadly.
“No. Come to my bed … please.” I take his hand. “I want to … feel your warmth.”
Emotional roller coaster, take twenty. Action!
Avery stares at me as if I just told him I was really a man in a woman’s body. “Okay,” he says, dumbfounded.
We walk into the bedroom, and Avery looks around. “Nothing has changed in here.”
“Why would it have?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I don’t know.”
I let go of his hand and try to take off my jeans, but my shoulder simply hurts too much. “This may sound weird now, but could you maybe help me get out of my pants?”
Avery takes a step toward me and helps. I gingerly step out of my jeans, bracing myself on his shoulder so I don’t fall. “Anything else?”
“Could you open my bra for me?” It’s awkward to ask him that, but I can’t move my right arm.
He exhales. “Hard to do, with the shirt on top.”
“Then take it off. I can put it on again afterward.” Why do you have to explain everything to a man? Avery pulls the T-shirt over my head and then steps behind me to open my bra, and I pull the straps from my shoulders.
He remains behind me, but I know he’s tall enough to see my breasts by looking over my shoulder. I realize that it doesn’t bother me, because we used to be very intimate, even though he may be my ex-boyfriend now.
Suddenly, I feel his lips on the back of my neck. “You still smell so good, Dale,” he whispers.
A pleasurable shiver runs down my spine, and the hairs on the back of my neck rise. I close my eyes with a sigh. I feel like I ought to stop him, but it feels so damn good. His mouth traces kisses along my neck, and then the tip of his tongue teases my skin while his hands roam my waist, my belly, and finally reach for my breasts.
“I know we shouldn’t do that, but I need to kiss you and touch you,” he murmurs.
“Shut up, Avery,” I whisper and turn around. I caress his torso and then put a hand on the back of his neck to pull him down to me.
Avery kisses me like a dying man, and together we stagger toward my bed. When my legs hit the edge, he grabs me and lifts me onto the mattress, but doesn’t pull away from me. Only when I start tugging at his shirt, he pulls back a little so I can unbutton it.
“You are beautiful, Dale.” In his eyes I can see the warmth that made me fall in love with him. And even now, I notice the first lonely butterfly reawaken in my stomach. It tests its fragile wings tentatively.
“So are you,” I answer softly and help him shrug off his shirt.
Then he pulls away from me, takes off his jeans, and makes a sheepish face. “I didn’t bring a condom,” he confesses.
I smile at him. “I have some … they’re in the drawer.”
His expression darkens. “You slept with someone else?”
“No. I just never threw them away. We bought them together, remember?”
He raises his eyebrows. “That's surprising.”
“Why?”
“I didn’t expect you to … stay on your own,” he admits in a small voice. “But it makes me happy to know you never invited another man into your bed.”
“But I did. I lay with another man in this bed once, but nothing happened,” I answer with a mischievous grin.
“Who was it?” he wants to know.
“Thierry.”
“My brother slept with you in this bed?”
I nod. “Yeah. He spent a few nights here after we’d just broken up. He only wanted to be there for me.”
Ave nods thoughtfully. “Okay, then I’m glad he stayed with you.”
“Me too.”
He kisses me again, but my desire has died down, so I don’t return the kiss. His lips caress my cheek, and his stubble tickles my skin. “What’s wrong?” he murmurs.
“This conversation … It brought back things that should have remained in their deep dark cave,” I whisper.
He slowly lies down next to me and pulls me into his arms. “It would have been a mistake to have sex now. Too early.” Then he pulls up the covers against the sudden cold.
“I’m glad you listened to me, even if it took three months,” I say.
He sighs. “I’m sorry.”
I suddenly remember his birthday present. “Did you ever open the present I left on your bed?”
“I did. Thank you for that.”
“That’s all?” I prod, feeling slightly disappointed.
“When I opened it, it hurt like a fresh stab into my heart, but the photograph is still on my nightstand,” he admits. “I didn’t even know a picture of us together existed.”
“Me neither, until Cami showed it to me. And I thought, it may not be a great present, but at least it’s the perfect picture.”
“It was the best present of all, even though it felt
awful to look at it then,” he whispers.
Neither of us dares raise our voice more than is absolutely necessary. The moment seems fragile. I’ve missed lying next to him and talking. It reminds me of the perfect time we had together, but I’m still certain that time is lost forever.
“Can you forgive me, Dale?”
“I don’t know,” I answer truthfully. “We’ll see how it develops.”
“But do you want to give us another chance?”
“Not at the moment.”
“Oh,” he says, clearly disappointed, but he doesn’t pull away from me.
“I have to deal with a lot of things right now. I’m afraid I can’t study hard enough to pass all my exams, and you really hurt me deeply, so I feel I need more time to process all of it,” I try to explain.
“I get that. I do.”
“Could we try to sleep now? I want to delete most of the evening from my memory, and now I’m feeling the fright in my bones again.”
“Sure,” he whispers, so I switch off the light.
***
“Good morning, sunshine,” he whispers.
I’m not fully awake yet. I blink. Bright winter sunshine floods my room. I look at him sleepily. “Why are you waking me up?”
“I know what it looks like when you wake up, and you just did, so I greeted you,” Avery says, placing a kiss on the tip of my nose.
Why is he lying in my bed, and why does my shoulder hurt like hell?
“What are you doing here?” I must sound confused and maybe a little irritated.
“You asked me to stay with you last night, after those guys attacked you,” he reminds me.
As soon as he says it, the memories return. I went to the Heat with Cami and the others, then I was sitting on the beach with Sky, and then there was this guy chasing me, until Avery showed up and knocked him out. I try to shake off the shivers that run down my spine. “I guess I should have taken a painkiller, because my shoulder hurts like hell,” I whine as I sit up.
Avery: Sensual Desire: New Adult College Romance (Coral Gables Series Book 2) Page 18
