Sweet Little Lies

by Sierra Hill

  Sleeping tonight will be a problem.

  Chapter 28

  Mica

  By the time I hear the knock on the door, I’ve checked the mirror at least a dozen times and have gone through two dozen outfit changes.

  I’d finally landed on a pair of jean shorts and a t-shirt because I didn’t want to look too eager or sexy. Okay, maybe a little of the latter, because the t-shirt happens to be crop top, exposing my navel.

  Crap, maybe this was the wrong thing to wear.

  He’s not coming over for a booty call dammit. The only reason he’s called me is to make amends. I know this, yet I still have hope. I’m such a pathetic girl. Now I’m second-guessing myself and my motives.

  It’s just that I’ve missed having a boyfriend. I’ve missed Lance as my boyfriend. And I just want him back. I’ll probably fall to my knees the minute I see him and beg him to return.

  I said I was pathetic.

  I’ve gone through every level of emotion there is in the last three months. My heart was broken and every day there was a reminder that Lance was gone and didn’t want anything to do with me. There were times where I’d see him on campus from afar and the pain in my heart would threaten to send me running home in tears.

  He’d returned with a fresh lease on life, learning to live without me. I was happy for him, but I was hollow and hurting. What hurt the most was that he hadn’t responded to any of my attempts to contact him. Not even my letters. I’d poured my heart and soul into those letters and I had no idea if he even read them.

  There were days I was so angry at Lance for making me care so much about him. For loving him so deeply and letting him shatter me to pieces like this. Other days, I realized it wasn’t his fault. He was fighting for his life against an addiction that had controlled his life.

  I’d hear a few updates here and there from Ainsley and Cade, but they were generally good about not bringing him up in my presence. I knew he’d successfully graduated out of rehab and was doing well. I’d heard he was also going around to those he let down, asking for their forgiveness. The very reason he is outside my door tonight.

  And here I am wearing clothing options in hopes he’ll want to be with me again. Pathetic.

  He knocks again and I yell out, “Coming!”

  No time to change, so I’ll just have to go with this.

  Turning the handle on the knob, I inhale deeply and let it out, replacing my frown with a bright smile.

  And then I’m knocked off my feet when I open the door and stare at the man before me.

  Somehow, he looks bigger than he was three months ago. Buffer and bulkier, if that’s possible. His broad shoulders take up most of the doorframe, his biceps formed with ropey muscle exposed under the sleeveless shirt he wears.

  His scent is subtle but powerful, masculine and spicy. I think I swoon when I stare up into his deep gray icicle irises and find him smiling timidly down at me.

  Thankfully my hand on the door holds me up, otherwise I’d be a puddle on the floor.

  “I’m like a vampire, you have to invite me inside,” he chuckles, his humor still intact.

  Realizing I’m in the middle of the doorway and haven’t moved, I nervously shuffle out of the way, allowing him step across the threshold, breathing in his scent as he walks by.

  After closing the door, I turn to find him staring at me with an intense gaze. His eyes travel the length of my body, starting at my bare toes, up my bare legs, up and over my bare belly, up further still to my neck and face. And then returns to my stomach.

  He looks noticeably uncomfortable and I chide myself again on my clothing choice.

  I’m sure I appear desperate and needy. Pathetic.

  “Come on into the kitchen. I have some huevos rancheros ready to go-”

  I’m stopped short when his fingers wrap around my wrist and he pulls me back unexpectedly.

  “Wait, um…can we talk first?”

  This surprises me, because Lance is always hungry and ready to eat. I nod my head and we move over to the couch. It’s the only piece of furniture I have in my living room, besides an end table and an old TV.

  We sit down, turning to face each other, neither of us really knowing where to place our hands. I think he’s afraid to touch me, because he within seconds of grabbing me, he dropped my wrist as if I’d burned his skin.

  Great, now he doesn’t even want to touch me.

  It seems like a lifetime ago that we sat on this couch together. That morning last summer when he came to ask me to be his Spanish tutor. The morning we made out and got hot-and-heavy because we were two magnets that couldn’t resist each other. Because our chemistry was so explosive that any time we were near each other we would detonate.

  A lifetime ago.

  Yet it feels like no time has passed at all. That feeling is as strong as ever. I still the intensity of it, even if he doesn’t.

  When I glance up and our eyes meet, I notice a softness there. In the past, Lance had two speeds. Intense and extreme intensity. Now it seems like some sort of calm has taken its place. A peacefulness that has my heart fluttering with happiness.

  “You look good,” I say to fill the silence. “You’ve gained some weight back and your color looks better.”

  It’s a funny thing because I hadn’t really noticed before how thin he’d become and how his skin was pale and sallow. But now that he’s clean, he just looks healthy. Vibrant. Virile and so very hot.

  He chuckles. “Funny what a healthy lifestyle can do for a guy. Thanks, though.”

  Lance tips his head and stares down at the cushion between us, but when he returns his gaze to mine, I see the determination there.

  “Mica,” he begins, his voice shaky. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am for what I’ve done to you and what I put you through.”

  Reaching out my hand, I entwine my fingers between his but remain silent. I know he has to get through this before I can jump in.

  He sighs heavily. “Fuck, this is harder than I thought. Had you not called me that night, I could’ve died.”

  He stands abruptly but doesn’t move. He lets that hang in the air, a bomb that’s been dropped but not detonated.

  “Okay, so here goes nothing,” he turns back to me. “I’ve lived with the knowledge that I killed my brother when I was twelve.”

  This startles me and I jolt back against the couch as if I’ve been shocked by a live wire.

  “What?” I ask incredulously because surely, he’s making this up.

  “The thing is, I blamed myself for his death all this time. And I know my dad did, too. It was an accident, what happened to Landon, but I was responsible. He ran out after a ball I threw over his head and was hit by a truck and killed instantly. I watched it happen with my own two eyes and as you can imagine, it molded me into who I am today.

  “For years, that bitterness grew between my parents, they both drank heavily. They were alcoholics. My mom, she loved me, but her grief sent her to her own death. My dad just allowed the hatred to confiscate any love that he once had for me. And well, I turned to booze and pills to make myself feel better. To numb all that self-hatred I had.”

  If my heart hadn’t already been broken over Lance, it was now broken and bleeding for him.

  Tears sprout in the corners of my eyes, but I remain quiet. Listening to him speak. His eyes glisten with unshed tears, as well. I knew this had to be difficult for him, but I didn’t realize how devastating.

  “Mica, I’ve hated myself for years and hid it from everyone. When I met you, I started to feel differently about life. For a while, everything was perfect. You are perfect. But then something inside me went haywire. Maybe it was after the lake incident. It drudged up old feelings of inadequacy and failure. I may have helped save Alvaro, but I couldn’t save my own brother. And then after the fight with my dad, well, he cut me off. And this thing with you – our relationship - you were – are still – too good for me. I couldn’t believe that someone so perfect like you cou
ld love someone like me. You’re an angel and I’m this monster. Deep in my heart, I knew that given time, I would ruin it. I would hurt you with my lies and my self-destructive behavior.”

  I hold my hands out and wrap both around his just so I can feel him and comfort him with my touch.

  “Ironically, I ended up screwing everything up and hurting you anyway. That’s the only path for an addict. We can’t keep juggling things while using. Eventually, all those balls we have in the air will drop and we hit rock bottom. Or worse, die.”

  Standing up in front of him, I move my hands to his face and cup his clean-shaven jaw.

  “Don’t ever feel ashamed about what happened. It happened for a reason and you’re alive for a reason. You’ve been given a second chance and for that I’m so eternally grateful.”

  My hands drop to my sides, but he takes them into his.

  “I can’t expect you to forgive me, but I hope you will. Mica, my life going forward is never going to be easy. Once an addict, always addict. Every single day for the rest of my life I will have to fight to keep on the straight and narrow. To keep those negative feelings of inadequacy at bay and to fight the urge to use again.

  “I didn’t want to see you while in rehab or even after because I wanted to give you time. Time to see that you could have something so much more than I can offer you. I understand if you don’t want me in your life after all this, even as a friend. But I’m hopeful, given time, things between us will eventually…”

  I bite down on my lip and will myself to stay in place because every part of me wants to kiss him everywhere. I’m practically shaking with need and restraint.

  “Lance, when I said I loved you, I meant it. That’s not something that can just disappear. Yes, I’ll admit, I was so hurt when you left me like you did and when you didn’t want to see me in the hospital. But I was hurting for you, not because of you. I just want to be in your life in whatever capacity you’ll have me. No matter how hard or difficult things get, I want to be the one there for you. Always.”

  His face morphs from grief and regret to something else entirely. It’s like a weight has been lifted and he’s finally able to smile again.

  “I love you, Mica. I’ve loved you for so long, but couldn’t say it out loud because I didn’t feel worthy of your love.”

  My heart just tripled in size and it feels like it’s going to break my chest wide open.

  Lance hovers over me, and then very tentatively, leans down and his lips capture mine in a kiss that says it all.

  It starts off soft, with regret and longing, and then grows deeper and more passionate, as if to say how much I’m desired and loved. How much he’s missed me.

  His fingers slide through the loose strands of my hair, his mouth devouring me. Nipping my lips, biting, nudging my mouth open so his tongue can explore me further. I’ve forgotten how good it feels just to kiss Lance.

  And it’s just a prelude to everything else to come.

  Chapter 29

  Lance

  “Oh shit, Mica,” I pant, pulling myself away from her warm and eager body. “I’ve been a monk for over three months. We need to slow things down. Plus, I didn’t come here for this.”

  She giggles and that elation that leaves her chest, like champagne bubbles out of an uncorked bottle, flits through my body.

  My hand has somehow managed to find its way underneath the cut-off shirt she has on, eagerly stroking the smooth skin of her belly. Fuck, the minute I laid eyes on her in the doorway I was sporting a hard-on.

  I’m so turned on and ready to climb inside her perfect body, but need to get a handle on things before they go too far. This wasn’t in my plans. I didn’t come over in hopes of fucking her senseless. I only wanted to get out my apology and repent my sins, not get my rocks off.

  But I’m only too happy to oblige when she takes my hand without a word and leads me into her bedroom.

  I stall at the doorway, watching her remove her shirt above her head and then her bra, which falls to the floor.

  “You’re not the only one who’s been abstinent, you know. I’ve been so terribly lonely, mi amante.”

  She shimmies out of her jean shorts and now she’s standing naked, her tiny body on display just a mere three feet from me. She lies down on the bed and beckons me with a crooked finger.

  My voice cracks, my eyes shut tight. “Are you sure?”

  “Si. I need you, Lance.”

  My resolve, my regret, my entire apology land in a heap next to my discarded clothes that I throw off in a rush. Her laughter fills the air like a spring morning – dewy and full of promise.

  Taking a gigantic step forward, my knees hit the bed as I look down over her. She wantonly spreads her legs and her own fingers pluck at her nipples.

  Groaning like a surly beast, I palm my shaft, squeezing the base to stave of the pending orgasm from just staring at her naked body. But when her other hand slithers down her stomach and her fingers reach the juncture between her legs, I’m gone.

  There’s no turning back now.

  “Mica,” I warn. “I didn’t come here expecting this. I don’t have a condom.”

  Her smile is salacious and tantalizing. “I’m on birth control. We’re good. I want to feel you. I need to have all of you inside me.”

  The idea of coming inside her is all it takes to lose absolute control.

  Placing one hand at her head, I lean down and line myself up at her entrance. The tip of my dick aligns with her hot center and I feel the easy give of her pussy. The wet heat of her surrounds me as I penetrate her opening, slowly, inch by inch.

  Her body quivers underneath me as a rush of need lodges at the base of my spine.

  “Fuck,” I groan as I bottom out, pushing in to the hilt. “I won’t last.”

  I hold my body up with my arms, biceps and body straining, as I glide in and out of her. She feels amazing. Indescribable. It was this that I dreamed of every night while we were apart.

  Her heels dig into my ass as we rock together in an unrestrained rhythm, her hands stroking my arms, my back, the curvature above my butt. Her breaths become choppy and the grip she has on my cheeks gets tighter, telling me each time with her breathy sounds like I’m hitting that spot she likes.

  Sweat beads at my temple and in the crease of my shoulder blades, my ball sack aching and throbbing and ready to come the minute she does.

  I’ve never wanted anything more than that. To find simultaneous bliss with the girl I love.

  “I’m getting so close, baby. You feel so fucking good,” I say, grinding against her, rocking my hips against her and sweeping my lips over hers in a deep, probing kiss.

  “Mmm…more. More. Harder, Lance.”

  I plunge faster and deeper, knowing I’m hitting her clit with every inch. And then she throws her head back into the pillow, exposing her long neck, her fingers digging deep grooves into my shoulders as her body clenches around me. She screams out as tremors ricochet through her, and she thrashes in rapture.

  “Coming,” I grind out, as that throbbing ache finally explodes, ripping through me with such intensity all I can see are white-hot stars.

  I come in hot jets inside her well-satiated body. The thrill of being able to pour myself inside, to spill my semen into her giving, hot body is enough to give me aftershocks of a climax until I’m so exhausted, I slip out of her wet pussy and land in a heap on my side.

  “Holy fuck. That was unreal.”

  “Best apology ever,” she giggles happily and we fall asleep in each other’s arms, forgetting all about breakfast.

  Chapter 30

  Mica

  “I have to admit, you two are really cute together, mi hermana,” Therese whispers, as we make our way through the buffet line at my niece’s birthday party. “You’re glowing.”

  Hiding my embarrassment over her observations with my hair, I smile to myself. The last month have been touch and go, with a lot of ups and some missteps. I walk on eggshells around Lance, wo
rried that I’ll set him off and back down the path he’s left behind at any moment. Which is ridiculous, but a true fear nonetheless.

  We sit down on the lawn chairs with our paper plates in our laps and I peek over at Lance, who is sitting in a semi-circle with my brothers, all laughing and shooting the breeze. Probably about sports, cars and whatever else guys talk about.

  “Thanks. He’s pretty great.”

  “You look happy. And I’m really glad.”

  “Estoy content,” I emphasize, because it’s so true. Having Lance back in my life and healthy again makes me ecstatic.

  There have been a few challenges and problems we’ve worked through. Like at first, he didn’t want to go out or be around any of his friends who were drinking. It worried him that he’d fall back into the trap.

  But we slowly began leaving the apartment on Friday and Saturday nights and spent time with Cade and Ainsley, hanging out at his place with Javin and Trent, and eventually went to dinner with some of his teammates at Coach Parker’s house. All the while, I watched in silent trepidation as Lance did his best to avoid any mention of his desire to drink.

  Lance has more strength than a lion, though. He uses his humor to share stories about what stupid stuff he did when he was drunk or stoned, in a way using it as a lesson for the younger guys he hangs around with. I love him for that. He’s so strong and capable and I see the confidence building in him every day. The other guys look up to him and revere him even more so that he is so open and honest about his short-comings.

  Maybe it’s because of that confidence, and the bond we have together now, that I finally invited him to spend time with my family.

  The first occasion was dinner with my parents. It was butt-awkward, but by the end of the night, my parents came around. My mother, bless her heart, sent Lance home with a pan of home cooked Mexican food. It was my mother’s way of opening her home to him and inviting him to be part of our family.