by Aly Martinez
I was miniscule compared to him. There was no use in fighting, but I still kicked my legs, irrationally desperate to get away from him—but only because I knew I couldn’t keep him for forever.
“Stop it!” he growled into my ear. “I know your goddamned name—probably better than I know my own.”
While I was wrapped in Till’s strong arms, six months’ worth of tears fell from my eyes. He carried me to my apartment and guided me back through the window before following me inside. Then he stripped out of his blood-soaked shirt before dragging the blankets down and climbing into the bed behind me. I cried for a while in his arms, even turning to face him, only to cry against his chest. I had missed him so much.
I knew I’d loved Till years ago, but this was more. I needed him in order to function on a very basic level. Together, the world didn’t feel so big and overwhelming. He was my escape—the dream personified.
Till Page was comfortable.
His hands trailed up and down my back as he lulled me until the words fought their way out.
“I couldn’t stop going back,” I announced in a broken whisper. “I didn’t know where you had gone. And for the first time since I was thirteen, I was alone inside my own head. God. It was a scary place.” I tried to joke, but the tears streaming down my face told the truth.
“I’m sorry,” he responded on a sigh. “I couldn’t stay.”
“Why?” I whined, but I curled in closer against his chest, needing to feel him more than anything else.
“I don’t know, Doodle,” he lied.
God! It was such a fucking lie. He knew as well as I did. He just didn’t want to tell me.
“Where did you go?” I pressed further.
There was no way I ever could have expected his answer, but that wasn’t because it was a novel thought. No. His answer was surprising because it was the source of my anguish too.
“The real world.” He kissed my forehead.
“Right.” I abruptly sat up, drying my eyes. “That’s exactly why this hurts. We could have gone together. But you made that choice for both us. I would have given absolutely anything to be in the real world with you.”
“You don’t understand.” He began toying with his bottom lip. “Doodle, you’re not real to me.”
To date, it was the most hurtful thing anyone had ever said to me. The tears instantly dried, and an unlikely smile crossed my mouth.
Yeah. That stings like the real world.
“Get out,” I ordered. For the first time ever, I truly, and rationally, wanted him gone from my life. No one, including my parents, could have hurt me more than he had with those five words.
He squeezed me impossibly tight.
“No. Listen to me.”
“Get. Out,” I told his chest through gritted teeth, as I lay tense in his arms. I was no longer returning his embrace; I was no longer returning anything.
“You’ve never once asked me why I was crying that first day when we met,” he said randomly, and I tried to wiggle my way out of his arms. He threw a leg over my thighs to lock me in even tighter.
“Let me go!” I began to thrash against him.
He never did follow direction well. Instead, he told me a story.
“The school sent a note home asking my parents to have my hearing tested. Apparently, a few of the teachers had noticed that I didn’t always respond when they called my name. It took three weeks for my mom to get off her lazy ass and take me to see someone. I failed the hearing test with flying colors.” He laughed, and it enraged me. I didn’t want to walk down memory lane.
“Let me go,” I demanded once again.
“Nope.” He kissed the top of my head. “The doctor did a few tests before telling us that my hearing loss was sensorineural and would cause me to eventually go deaf.”
I stilled as my heart dipped in my chest from his matter-of-fact announcement.
“He said it just like that, too. It was quick and to the point, no fluff. I guess you get what you pay for, and unfortunately for me, we were at the free clinic.” He laughed again, but my stomach ached.
“Was he right?” I asked with a wince, not wanting to hear the answer.
“Yeah,” he confirmed, causing me to gasp. “When I was thirteen, I was hearing at around eighty percent, and they predicted it would go downhill pretty steadily.”
“But you’re not . . .” I trailed off, unwilling to finish the thought.
“It could take years. It all depends on my rate of degeneration. The clinic sent us to a specialist, but in true Mommy Dearest fashion, she asked what the point of seeing a specialist was if there wasn’t any way to prevent me from going deaf. I can still vividly remember her checking her watch as she spoke to the doctor. She must have had somewhere else to be that was more interesting than listening to the diagnosis that would forever change my life.”
“Fuck,” I whispered.
“As soon as we walked out of that doctor’s office, she told me she needed me to keep my brothers because she had plans that day. Plans. Fucking plans!” His voice rose for the very first time during his recount. “It would have hurt if I hadn’t already known what a self-centered bitch she was.”
My hands found purchase on the muscles on his back, and I pulled him impossibly closer. It was all I had to offer.
“So as soon as we got home, I dashed from the car and took off through the apartments, climbing through the first window I came to. That’s when I found you. At first, I kept coming back because I thought you were funny and you distracted me from the world that kept spinning under my feet.”
“Every girl’s dream—a distraction,” I snarked against his chest, but if he heard me, I couldn’t be sure.
He continued. “But then it became a place where I wasn’t bound by my life outside. Inside the four walls of that shitty apartment, I got to be whoever I wanted. I wasn’t poor or going deaf. Social services weren’t beating down our door, nor were the cops looking for my dad. I was always met with a smile and a sense of belonging. It was you. We had an entirely separate life there. Together, we kept it clean. I made sure we always had power and you made sure I didn’t starve. That was a hell of a lot more than I got at home. You took care of me, and with what little I had, I took care of you.”
I was still mad as hell, but he was speaking the language of longing and acceptance I understood, and that’s the only reason I nuzzled my head against him.
“So, Doodle. I fucked up that last night together. I took the risk and merged fantasy into reality.”
My body immediately stiffened, but I was unsure which term had hurt more. Who I wanted to be to Till was still a mystery even to me.
With a slide of his hand over my throat, he guided my eyes to find his. “So I decided to walk away from you before you could walk away from me when you realized what a fuckup I was in the real world.” His lips lingered close to mine, but it wasn’t the good kind. It was the torturous kind.
If I were given the choice with Till, I’d take real life every. Single. Time.
“I am well aware what a fuckup you are,” I said, and I felt him flinch. “Did you ever think that maybe I felt the same way about you? My parents couldn’t have given two shits about me, but I knew you did. I knew you would always be there. You might be late, you might smell like Rochelle Lane’s cheap-ass perfume, you might be in a shitty mood, but you would be there. Then, one day, you weren’t. I sat in that apartment night after night for two months. Most of the time, I just stared at the window, willing it to suddenly open.”
“Jesus. I’m sorry. I just didn’t know where else to go tonight. I needed the fantasy back.”
“Well, I don’t,” I said, and he began to roll away. “Stop. Just listen to me. I’ve put my life back together the last few months. I’ve moved on in the real world. I don’t want to go back to the fantasy. Not even to be with you.” I felt his shoulders fall. “But if you want to join me here, I’m okay with that.”
“I don’t even know where
to start being there with you.” He sucked in a breath, releasing it on a vibrato.
“Start by telling me whose blood you were wearing tonight. I don’t need details, but you have to let me know if I have to testify that you were with me all night. I’m a terrible liar.” I raked my nails down his back.
“Some guy named Frankie,” he answered weakly.
Our bodies were tangled together. As I stiffened, he became pliable, wrapping around me. Yin and yang. I took the strength he feebly offered. And he held me tight enough to transfer it through mere contact.
“Is he dead?” I finally found the words, but I’d never wanted an answer less.
“No. But my father might be.”
“Oh, God.” A sob caught in my throat.
“Don’t waste one fucking tear on that asshole. I tried to protect him, but he turned on me. He threw me to the fucking wolves!” he exclaimed without ever raising his voice.
His eyes were filled with rage, but it was more than that. He was hurt . . . and disappointed . . . and abandoned. I was devastated just watching the myriad of emotions pass over his strong face.
“You really think he’s dead?”
“Unfortunately, no. He’s probably still breathing. But he’s dead to me all the same.”
I eyed him warily, unsure how to react to this news. It was obvious he didn’t want to talk about it. But there was always one thing that worked for us. Humor.
“Okay. If the cops come calling, you were with me all night. I haven’t left this apartment since noon. You came in the window soon after. We ate leftover spaghetti then watched Dancing With the Stars. We had sex—you came, I didn’t.”
He began to laugh, burying his head in my neck.
“Then you sang me hymns to combat my newfound insomnia.”
“Hymns? Really, Doodle? Shit. I’m going to jail for life,” he complained before grabbing my ass.
“Hey. Hands!” I halfheartedly slapped his hand.
“Sorry. I needed one last taste of a woman before I’m checking out asses every time soap is dropped in the shower.”
I burst into laughter and tears at the same time.
“Shhhh. I’m kidding. I’m not going to jail. Bad guys don’t rat out other bad guys to the cops.”
“Are you sure?” I asked, staring up through my lashes into his gold-flecked eyes.
“Positive.” He smiled and brushed the hair from my face.
“I’ve really missed you,” I boldly confessed.
His eyes warmed as emotion made its way from under his tough exterior. “I’ve missed you too. I’m sorry I ruined us.”
“Hey, you didn’t ruin us. In the morning, we just go back to being friends. We’re good at that. The past is done. Just friends from here on out. Tomorrow starts real life . . . together. I’m going to help you find an apartment. You need to get out of your parents’, and we can meet here every night just like the old place. Only this time, I’ll bring the power and you bring the food.” I smiled.
“You think we can do friends again?” He looked downright hopeful as he asked.
“Not if you don’t get out of my bed and stop grabbing my ass. You can sleep on my couch until you find a place. Okay?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
“Hey, when was the last time you saw a doctor about your hearing?” I asked, causing him to groan.
“About three years ago,” he said as he rolled out of bed and headed for the window.
“You need to get that checked out, Till.”
“Yeah, I know,” he called over his shoulder as he climbed outside.
“I’m serious. That’s not something to play around with. Maybe the specialist could do something to prevent it. You never know until you ask.”
“I’ll make an appointment. I swear,” he lied, but I had to let it go.
I couldn’t force him into a doctor’s office no matter how much this new revelation worried me.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“To lock up my truck. There was a crazy woman who left the door standing wide open earlier.” He flashed me a smile.
“You know I have a door, right?”
He barked out a laugh. “Yeah, I know, Doodle.”
“Umm . . . then why don’t you use it?”
He stared at me for a few seconds from outside my window before finally answering, “Because I’m afraid it would change everything.”
“It’s a door, Till. I’m relatively sure the sheer magnitude of you walking through it wouldn’t knock the Earth out of orbit.”
“Maybe not, but I need you too damn bad to chance it,” he said, and it forced the smile to fall from my face. “I decided a long time ago that the window at the old apartment was some kind of portal to a whole other dimension. One where life was easy and people like you existed. I used to think that, if I came in the door, you’d be gone. We might be starting in the real world together, but I’m still not ready to let go of the fantasy.”
“Till,” I breathed when further words failed me.
“Yeah. Anyway. I’ll be right back. Leave this open for me, okay?” He winked before walking away.
Thankfully, I was never kidnapped or robbed, because from that day forward, I never once locked my window. And no matter how ridiculous it was, I smiled daily when Till came climbing through it.
Chapter Nine
Till
I STAYED AT ELIZA’S APARTMENT for a few weeks. It was the best possible feeling, having her around all the time again, but I felt like a worthless dick sleeping on her couch. I spent what little money I had on food to at least make it look like I was helping out, but she still cooked me dinner every night.
Going back to being friends wasn’t nearly as hard as I’d worried it would be. Was I still attracted to her? Absolutely. But keeping her in my life meant not acting on it. Our new relationship only vaguely resembled the old one. Gone were the hours spent cuddling or lying in her lap. Before we’d had sex, I’d touched Eliza all the time. There had been nothing to read into from those forehead kisses and innocent moments spent holding each other. But now, I knew her body, so every brush of our skin reminded me what it felt like to have her naked underneath me. Neither of us could deny that the spark was there; we just had to avoid it. I’d only actually had her for one night, but my hands ached to touch her as if it were the norm.
Those first few weeks killed me. Life carried on though. I got word that my father had landed himself in jail after the police had found him bloody and beaten that night. His pockets were apparently filled with meth, so he was slapped with several possession charges, earning himself an extended vacation at the prison. I didn’t give a damn if it was a life sentence though. He was dead to me. I told Eliza bits and pieces of the night, but as a whole, I just tried to put it out of my mind.
One day, as I was coming home from work, I saw two guys fumbling a bed down the stairs from above Eliza’s apartment.
“Hey, you need a hand?” I jogged over to catch the mattress just before it fell over the railing.
“Shit. Thanks, man,” the short guy groaned as we carried it the rest of the way to a truck.
“Damn. That was heavier than it looked.” The taller of the two cracked his neck as I pushed it with one hand to wedge it between the two dressers.
I laughed and headed back toward Eliza’s apartment, but he stopped me only a few steps away.
“Big man, wait! You wanna make a quick fifty bucks?”
Money.
“Whatcha got in mind?” I asked as I turned to face him.
“I got to get on the road in, like, an hour, and there is no way the two of us are going to be able to get some of that shit down the stairs.”
“One hour? Fifty bucks?” I could definitely use the cash, and if I got to combine that with a workout of hauling all his stuff down, I wouldn’t complain.
“That’s the offer.”
“All right. Half now. Half when I finish.” I crossed my arms over my chest.
He dug in his pockets, pulling out a wad of bills. “What’s your name?” he asked, handing the money over.
“Till.”
“I’m Daniel. That’s Scott. Follow me, Till. Let’s get this knocked out so I can get the hell out of here.”
Forty minutes later, I was carrying the last box down to his truck. He didn’t have much, so it didn’t take me long, but it would have taken those two forever. It turned out Scott was staying in the apartment, but Daniel was moving to Wisconsin to be with some girl he met online. Scott gave him an endless amount of shit about it too. It was hilarious listening to them go back and forth. They both seemed like good guys.
“I am out of here!” Daniel said, bumping fists with Scott. “Hey, please try to find someone to take my room. I can’t afford to carry this place more than another month.”
My head snapped to Scott. “You looking for a roommate?”
“I am now that this asshole is taking off on me to move in with his mail-order bride. Why? You looking for a place?”
“Yes!” I jumped forward a little too enthusiastically. “I applied here, but they didn’t have anything available. They put me on a twelve-mile-long wait list, but I really can’t afford anything else I looked at.”
Daniel glanced over at Scott, who shrugged.
“You got a job?” Scott asked.
“Two.”
“You a partier?”
“Nope. I work, go to the gym, then sleep.”
“Rent’s five fifty a month. So you’d need to have two twenty-five in cash by the first of every month. If you’re late, it’s an extra hundred bucks. All the bills get split right down the middle. No exceptions.”
“I’m cool with that,” I said quickly as I began to get even more excited. That was a hundred bucks cheaper than what I’d thought I was going to have to spend to get my own place.
“Well, okay, then. I know you saw the bedroom, but you want to go up and take a look around the rest of the apartment?”
“Yeah, definitely!” I answered, even though, there wasn’t a chance in hell that anything I could see would prevent me from signing a lease. I needed a place.
