eyond Desire Collection

by JS Scott, M Malone, Marie Hall, et al

  But I knew Javi has only just begun. “I guess.”

  Getting up, he tweaks my nose. “Promise I’ll catch you if you fall.”

  “Me? Fall? Oh, whatever. I’m not the one who almost landed on my ass the second my blades touched ice. That would be you.”

  “I was just getting my bearings.”

  Laughing, we walk back. The boys get their skates on much quicker than I do. Probably because I’m seriously dragging my feet. I won’t be surprised if I wake up during the night with a massive charley horse.

  Tying the last knot, I stand and walk to the gate, ready to get back on the ice when I notice Javi.

  He’s gliding; actually it’s more of a coordinated stutter step, arms held out beside him for balance.

  The rink isn’t overly crowded, which is probably the only reason why he wants to skate. Ryan is beside him but keeping a respectful distance, and that’s when Javi’s arms start to windmill.

  There’s nothing for him to hang on to—he’s almost in the center of the ice. Opening the door, I enter, ready to rush to him and figure out a way to help without holding him too long, but what I see next stops me dead in my tracks.

  It all happens so fast.

  One instant Javi’s getting ready to eat it; the next, Ryan is reaching out with his hand.

  I cringe the moment their hands clasp and they make skin-to-skin contact. I hold my breath, waiting for Javi’s screams. The fine hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and I blink rapidly, ready for the entire park to turn and stare and mutter and wonder, ready for the wave of embarrassment I always feel whenever it happens, despite my efforts not to.

  One second.

  Two.

  Three seconds go by.

  Javi doesn’t scream.

  And he doesn’t let go.

  Frowning, only just seeming to realize what’s happened, Ryan whips his head up. Our eyes crash and mine burn.

  Javier’s holding his hand, not looking at him, but hanging on and smiling as he skates with Ryan around and around and around.

  Time moves again in fast-forward and I’m drowning. Fat tears are gathering, making my vision blur, and I don’t know how to stop it.

  I run and fall, landing hard on my butt. A white-hot flare rips up my spine. But I don’t stop. Not caring what I look like to anybody in that moment, I have to get away.

  Crawling on my knees, I get to the door and am finally able to hoist myself up.

  “Lili!” Ryan calls my name.

  I shake my head and rip the skates off my feet the first second I can, then I run in only my socks to the women’s bathroom, locking myself into a stall a second before the waterworks burst through and hard, grinding sobs spill from my throat.

  He’d grabbed Ryan.

  He was holding Ryan’s hand.

  Hanging on even still.

  And it hurt so bad, I want to scream.

  Because it should have been me.

  I’m his mother.

  All I’ve ever wanted was to have him touch me. Have him initiate any form of contact, just once.

  Sometimes it seemed like everyone got to. Mama’s fingers almost always grazed his forehead. Ade could pat his shoulder without him flinching, but me… nothing, except when he was too passed out to care.

  And it hurt that I blamed Ryan for this.

  I was a bad person and I hated myself right now.

  Because it wasn’t Ryan’s fault.

  But I couldn’t stop. I hung on to my stomach and it was like everything I’d ever suppressed, every hurt, ache, fear, terror… it all came out.

  As I cried though, a funny thing happened. Behind the hurt came clarity and finally understanding.

  Javier loves him.

  And deep down I believe Ryan loves my boy back.

  When I finally exit the stall, it was like my soul was cleansed.

  I feel ten times lighter, the burden of carrying all the guilt, all the hate, all the worries of finances and health… I release it.

  Walking to the sink, I splash water on my face, frowning at the giant red nose and puffy eyes staring back at me.

  My eyes are bloodshot and greener than I’ve ever seen them.

  When I walk back outside, Ryan’s there, still hanging on to Javi’s hand, and I close my eyes, snapping a mental picture. I will remember this night forever.

  “I’m sorry,” he says.

  “I love you,” I whisper.

  ***

  Ryan

  She said it. Pursed her two lips together and the night had shivered with the intensity of it. I’d stood like a jackass, blinking idiotically, and she’d stepped into me, wrapped her arms around my neck, and kissed me.

  Her face was so swollen and tear tracks were still imprinted on her cheeks. I’d heard her crying, and each sound had echoed hollowly in my soul.

  We’re back home and we just made love.

  Love.

  The word sounds so foreign in my head.

  But there is no other word for it. It wasn’t skin slapping skin, it was soul touching soul, a joining of minds and hearts and it went so much deeper than meeting the needs of our flesh.

  Javier is sleeping on the couch in the living room, Alex is at some girl’s house, and if it’d been any other woman I might have had a freak-out at how domestic this all seemed.

  For the first time I allow myself to wonder what this would feel like always. I play with the strands of her hair, twirling the tips around her tiny nipples.

  She smiles, all sultry and sexy, and my gut clenches—my body gets hard again.

  “Penny for your thoughts.” She tickles my arm.

  A sliver of moonlight slices across the expanse of her toned, flat belly.

  “You’re gorgeous,” I whisper, sliding my foot along hers.

  “So are you.”

  I still can’t believe anyone can feel like that about me. Can’t understand this thing happening, but happening it is.

  “What do you see in me, Lili?”

  Her eyes soften as they roam my face.

  “I see hurt.”

  My lids flicker. I don’t want her to see that. I try so hard to keep it away from her, which only proves to me Lili sees me. Really sees me, and I don’t know whether to laugh or cry about that.

  “Sometimes it’s so deep it takes my breath and leaves me aching.”

  Her fingertips slide slowly up my arms, gliding along my biceps.

  “I want you to know something…” Her lips purse.

  In the quiet and dark, this conversation feels momentous. Profound. Outside, a dog barks, and somewhere in the house I hear the steady, constant drip of a leaky faucet. But in this room there is nothing save the sound of our breath and the rapid beating of my heart echoing through my ears.

  My flesh tingles as she continues to trace my body with her hand, wrapping her small hand around my shoulder, the curve of my back, gliding down my spine.

  “You can trust me.” She nods. “With anything. No matter how big, how small, you can trust me to share your pain.”

  I want to believe her. Everything inside me yearns for it. What if I do tell her? This burden is huge. Carrying it around for years, never talking about it, trying in vain to stop thinking about it… it hasn’t done much for me except kill me slowly. Each day harder than the next, each day I spend wondering if maybe today will be the day I’ll be hit by a truck or be told I have two months to live… just so that it can end, so that I never have to think about it again, dream about it.

  “I feel like my life is one big open book to you.” She frames my face. “But I don’t know anything about you. Only what I see. What I feel.”

  “Isn’t that enough, Lili? To just know I love you? To know I’m here?”

  “I wish it was,” she admits sadly and drops her hands.

  Rolling over, I plop onto the pillow and throw a hand over my eyes.

  “It was for a time. But the deeper I get into this, the more I want to know. I want to know everything about you
.”

  “Trust me, you don’t. You don’t want to see what’s in there. I don’t even look if I don’t have to.”

  Turning, she settles her cheek against her fist. Nude, tight body open for me, hair splayed long and dark down her breasts. It hurts to look at her sometimes.

  “Make it small.” She smiles. “Something not painful. What were you like as a boy?”

  Facing her, mirroring her pose, I shake my head. “You really want to know?”

  “Do you know why I’m so good at college?” She pauses. “Because I love learning. I always have—I’m a big nerd. Do you know what my favorite thing to do on the weekends is?”

  “Hang out with me?” I tug at the sheet, bringing her closer to me.

  She wraps her legs around mine.

  “That’s a given, but when you’re not around, I watch documentaries. For fun. About everything, anything. Learned once that worms have four butts. Who knew, right?” She shrugs and I laugh. “And who cares. Point is…” She splays her palm on my heart. “I need more.”

  Maybe I can share something. Maybe it won’t be so bad.

  Start easy.

  Counting to three for courage, I begin. “When I was five, we lived next door to these neighbors and they had this small, stupid, rat-looking dog. Well, I thought it was their dog.”

  She smiles, eyes shining.

  “Anyway, they’d leave the damned thing outside all the time. You know, it’s hot in Texas and I’d feel bad for it. So I’d take it food every day and a bowl of water. I’d always try to pet it, but the damn thing was jumpy. Would never let me near it without baring its teeth.”

  “Poor thing.” She grips my shoulder. “Did they ever realize?”

  “Oh yeah.” I fight the smile. “The husband came home one day, looked me dead in the eye, and said, ‘Son…’ His voice was real deep too, I remember thinking that. ‘What are you doing with that thing?’”

  “Huh? What’d you tell him?”

  I scratch my jaw, remembering it like it was yesterday. “Told him I felt bad for their dog and, real serious, he cocked his head. ‘Boy, that ain’t a dog, that’s a rat.’”

  She squeals. “Are you serious? How could you not know it was a rat?”

  “Hey.” I shrug when she slaps my chest. “I was five. I told you I thought it looked like a rat.”

  Laughing, grabbing her stomach, she kisses me and I realize I’m actually having fun.

  “Did you ever want any pets?”

  I snort. “Not after that. Pissed my pants every time I thought about it.”

  “Tell me more.”

  Thinking hard, I struggle to find something that’s not mired in all the crap and angst. But it’s hard.

  “What were your hobbies?”

  Cutting my eyes at her face, I say, “Sports.”

  “Were you good?”

  “Decent. Actually, my baseball team went to State. I was the only sophomore on the varsity team.”

  “Did you win?”

  “Yeah, they hung banners all over the place; in fact, I think there’s a case in the halls. Go, Pumas.” I pump my fist with a stupid grin.

  Her brows scrunch. “Pumas? As in J.J. Baines High?”

  I sit up. “Did you go there?”

  “Oh my God.” She scoots up and throws her arms around me. “I cheered there. How come I never saw you?”

  I couldn’t help wishing we had met, wishing I’d seen her. Even at fourteen I bet she was gorgeous.

  “Four-year age difference?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I graduated at seventeen. I was a freshman at fourteen.” Cold fingers grip my chin. “The first time I saw you, I thought I remembered you. Like déjà vu or something.”

  “I would give anything to go back and see you at fourteen. I bet you were hot.” I trace her breasts, body getting hard when I see a shiver course through her.

  Her eyes drop and lose some of their sparkle. “Actually, I was out a lot that year.”

  I touch her flat stomach. “Javier?”

  She nods and I wrap her in my arms, pulling her to my chest until our limbs tangle and interlock. I’ll never admit this outside this room, but sometimes I just like holding her. Touching skin to skin, smelling her intoxicating flowery scent. Of course, I can’t hold her without wanting other things too. To taste her, move inside her.

  “Maybe we did see each other back then,” she whispers, rubbing her cheek against mine. “I’d like to think so anyway. Why did you join the military if you were so good at sports?”

  Baby steps.

  I can do this.

  “No scholarships. Family wasn’t going to pay my way through college, and I…” I clear my throat. “I had to get away.”

  “Tell me about your parents.”

  Crawling out of my lap, she doesn’t let go of my hand, still continues to toy with my thumb. I focus on her touch.

  “Not much to tell.” My voice is calm but flat.

  “You never talk about them. Do you still keep in touch?”

  Grinding my jaw, a muscle tenses in my cheek. “Not really.”

  “Ryan,” she says, her gaze intense, “do they even know where you are?”

  “Hope not.”

  She chews on a corner of her lip, and I read all the questions in her eyes, know she’s holding back, know she wants to ask more.

  Open up, Ryan. For her, open up.

  I swallow hard. “They never trusted me. About anything.”

  She waits, giving me time to gather my thoughts.

  Closing my eyes, I do something I will never do for another soul in the world. I let myself remember.

  “My dad was this hard-nosed bastard. Really by the book. Expected dinner on the table at five, throw ball on the weekends with his only child for thirty minutes precisely, go to church Sunday morning, eat chicken dinners Sunday night. Worked as a foreman at a construction company.”

  All the images come tumbling back with extreme clarity.

  Sweaty, jeans stained with grime and paint, he’d walk in the house. A big man in my little eyes. Every day it was the same thing. He’d come through the doors, look at me, and I could never decipher what it was I was seeing.

  Looking back on it, I think it was disappointment mixed with a lot of scorn. Even as a kid, before all the shit, he’d never wanted me. He did his duty and nothing more. He brought home money, paid the bills, put a roof over our heads and clothes on our backs, but always blamed me for ruining his life.

  “Dad never hid the fact I was an accident that shouldn’t have happened. He and Mom had me late in life. They were almost in their forties and neither one wanted kids. Slip of the condom.” I snort, shaking my head. “Me, I was just a fucking disappointment from the start.”

  Her mouth pulls down and she presses herself back into me, lining her back against my chest, wrapping my arm around her waist. I toy with the swell of her breast.

  “Why do you say that?”

  Because none of that other shit mattered to the kid me. I would have given it all up just for a hug, a pat on the back, an “I love you.” “Because they’d been planning for an early retirement. Dreamed of leaving Texas behind, settling into the Caribbean somewhere, and drifting off slowly into their twilight years. But then I came.” I chuckle, a miserable sound, and I’m surprised after all this time it still bothers me.

  “I’m sorry. But I’m glad you ruined their lives.” She kisses my hand and I nuzzle her flower-scented hair.

  “He did do one thing right though,” I say.

  “What’s that?”

  Tugging on her shoulder until she rolls over, I smile down at her beautiful face. “He loved my mom. Adored her. I grew up wanting that.”

  “I love you so much, Ryan,” she whispers.

  “Me too, Lili. With everything.”

  Then she’s tugging me down for a kiss and I’m scrabbling for another condom and this time our love isn’t fast or hard, but slow and full and filled with so much love.

/>   That night I have another dream.

  Chapter Twenty One

  Liliana

  The next few days slip by in a blur of final exams and getting ready for Thanksgiving. I have three glorious days off and I plan to spend every one of them at home with Ryan and my family.

  “Mama.” Tiptoeing into her room, I tap her shoulder gently. It’s only nine in the morning, but usually she’s up much earlier than this.

  Last few nights have been rough on her. With her crying out in her sleep and moaning, I haven’t gotten much sleep either. I’m not sure anyone other than Javi has.

  “Mija?” Her voice comes out weak and scratchy.

  Her skin is so pale today she looks like a ghost. Running my fingers through her hair, I try as best I can to curb the disarray.

  “I’ve got to run to the grocery store and get a few things. Ade’s in the kitchen if you need anything.”

  Filmy blue eyes blink back at me. “And Javi?”

  “Still sleeping.”

  Her lids slowly slip back down. “Okay.”

  She’s back asleep even before I close the door.

  Ryan’s standing in the kitchen, munching on a carrot stick and talking low to Ade. One look at my face though and he’s by my side.

  “Angel?”

  I shake my head. “She’s asleep. Ade, we’ll be back.”

  Adelida’s face is grim.

  The writing’s on the wall. We all know it; it’ll be a miracle if Mama lives out the rest of the year.

  While the rest of the world is getting ready to celebrate and gorge on food, all I want to do is hide in my room and cry.

  Ryan doesn’t say anything until we’re in the car and he’s cranked up the heat to high. My teeth clack together hard.

  “She’s dying, Ryan.” I turn to him, not holding back the tears.

  He holds me, just hangs on and lets me cling and I’m so grateful.

  We sit like that for I don’t know how long. Finally—sniffling—I wipe my nose. “It’s getting so hard to see her like this. A part of me just wants to run away, leave like Papa did. Does that make me a horrible person?”

  Thumbing tears out of my eyes, he shakes his head. “Of course not. Lili, I can’t even imagine what this is doing to you. She’s not my mother and it hurts me. I’m so sorry, angel, but I’m here.”

  Chin wobbling, I pat his knee. “I know. You know, I think God sent you to me because he knew I wouldn’t be able to handle this on my own.”