Closer

by Kaia Bennett

  "Oh, c'mon don't be like this, Gabe. She seemed okay with it until you stopped her. Who knows, maybe she'll be up for it again when we get back home."

  The twitch in his jaw and the pain in his eyes gave him away. There wouldn't be a next time. Not for either of them, because she was gone. Meredith’s expression showed she finally put together why he was so on edge, what had happened to Nicole.

  "I did you a favor," she said finally. "She didn't know what she had. She didn't know how special you are."

  Meredith reached out a hand to touch his face but he moved as if she had the plague.

  "It's not like you would have been able to tell her yourself, right?" she whispered, and her fingers crawled down the strong expanse of his chest, towards his abs while she leaned up to kiss him. "I'm always around to do the dirty work for you—”

  Before he knew it his hand was around her neck. He pushed her back into the door. The thud of her head against it just barely snapped him out of his trance. The look in her eyes was what really gave him pause. There was an inkling of surprise, perhaps even fear. But then she settled into that old icy blue allure that had helped lead him astray in the past. Her hips leaned forward, brushing against his, her tongue darted over her lips, and he saw for the first time in a long time, the look of this girl when she was under the sway of his touch.

  "Squeeze a little harder," she whispered. "I know you want to. I'll bet you've been dreaming about it, just like I have..."

  His hand was actually shaking. Was this what he wanted? Was this why he'd been so scared to tell Nicole? Did he really desire everything Meredith had said? Did he not know himself at all anymore?

  His fingers flexed around her slender throat and made her eyes widen, made her take in a ragged breath. "Y-yes..."

  "You'd love that wouldn't you, you crazy bitch," he whispered now, letting his eyes take on the dark menacing look he knew would drive her crazy.

  She nodded and grasped his hips, pulling his body closer.

  "You'd love it if I just fucked you right now, like the little whore we know you are." His fingers fell to her thigh, grazing the soft porcelain skin. He knew before he even came to her hip that she was wearing nothing under her skirt. "Say it, Mere. I know you miss saying it for me..."

  The relief in her eyes was almost more stunning than the look of predatory desire he'd seen just a moment ago.

  "I want to you to fuck me like I'm your little whore again, lover," she whispered. "You can be as rough as you want with me. You can make it hurt if you want to. You know I love it that way."

  He felt his dick stir and hated himself for it. God, he wanted to hurt her. He wanted to make her pay over and over again for what she'd done, for what she'd ruined just by using a few choice words. And he wanted release. He hadn't so much as looked at a girl since Nicole. He didn't want anyone else but her, but she wouldn't even talk to him. She wouldn't even tell him if there was a chance in hell they would be together again. And the anger, the hurt, the need, it was all getting to him, swirling up under the surface in the form of misplaced lust.

  He was looking down at this woman who used to inspire the dirtiest parts of his desire, the girl who got and accepted that side of him until he'd fallen for Nic. His hand tightened, and Mere gasped under the pressure, her entire body vibrating with impending victory. She would get exactly what she wanted. All of his resolve was toppling and crumbling at her feet and now he was going to show her what sadness and loss could do to a man.

  He leaned in, his lips brushing against hers, so lightly it was hard to tell if they were touching or not. He felt her lean in to reach him, but his hand held her fast, his lips eluded her tongue when it darted out to taste him.

  "I know how to hurt you, baby. I know the best way to make you feel like a little whore."

  Abruptly he pulled away, stepped back from her, as if he couldn't stand the sight, the feel and smell of this gorgeous and cold-hearted girl. "I still don't want you. I still can't fucking stand the idea of touching you again. I'm in love and the person I'm in love with isn't you."

  Her face cracked. Her eyes wavered.

  "How's that Mere? Painful enough for you?" he said venomously. "Feel enough like a whore now? You should, you worked hard to make yourself look like one.”

  It should have been such a sweet and just reward, the sight of her swallowing, those icy blue eyes trying so desperately not to thaw in front of him. She put up a good front, as if she were used to brushing off insults like this. But something about his words cut deep. Her smile was weak, transparent. Those creamy white shoulders he used to nibble on slumped against the wall. And her eyes. For the first time nothing could hide in those eyes.

  "It worked though, didn't it? I told you your little girlfriend wasn't going to be able to handle you. But no, you didn't want—”

  She shrieked jerking against the door when his fist slammed into it, just beside her head. Her eyes were wild with fear. He was so close he imagined he could smell it.

  "I wish I'd never fucking met you," he spit out, but the pain in his voice was so raw. It left him open.

  It was all he needed to say this time. She slid away from the door, and he pulled it open, striding out into the music, the warm air, the smell of alcohol and bodies writhing. He stumbled out into the summer night, walking as fast as his feet would carry him. And every so often he would look down and check his phone in vain, hoping for a message from the one girl he'd never regret meeting. The one he was determined to get back as soon as he got home.

  The End

  Check out a SNEAK PEEK of MIND OVER MATTER!

  Book 3 in the Loose Ends series

  Coming Soon!

  They said they would try. They said they would give their love a chance.

  But when the mistakes of Gabriel’s past clashed with Nicole’s hopes for the future, they realized love wasn’t enough. They tied up the loose ends of their broken hearts and walked away.

  Now, Gabriel’s career is on a meteoric rise and he’s back to his bachelor ways. He told Nicole he couldn’t promise forever and did his best to let her go, but these days he wonders if he spoke too soon.

  Nicole has a new life, a new man, and she refuses to look back. To everyone around her though, not looking back looks an awful lot like running scared from the past.

  With Jackie and Ian’s wedding approaching, a reunion between the best man and the maid of honor is to be expected. What they don’t expect is for the olive branch of friendship to catch fire with a love and need that is stronger than even their best intentions.

  They called it quits. But is it really over? They still love each other. But does that even matter when they’ve made up their minds that there’s no going back?

  ***

  It was funny how he got lost every time he tried to find Jackie and Ian's new home. It never ceased to elude him. Was he supposed to turn down Dolby St, or was it Hanover? They were so close together and he never could remember for whatever reason, because everything in the fucking suburbs looked exactly alike. So, he chose one and then fifteen minutes later, sighed and thought, Fuck, it was Dolby. Then he had to circle back around the entire township, just to make it back to the right street, because her house was in the middle of a cul-de-sac, in the middle of said suburbs.

  Like the center of a fucking labyrinth.

  Part of him missed the days when going over to Jackie and Ian's meant driving over to that old two-bedroom apartment he'd shared with them for a little while. It reminded him of college, when they would all hang out. Just Nuke, Ian, Jackie and him drinking into the wee hours of the night and laughing about life, talking about nothing and everything. He missed those times. It was just one of the many things he missed that had faded away into bittersweet memory.

  He sighed and smiled as he finally found the right street and turned into the cul-de-sac. He parked on the curb in front of their house so that he wouldn't take up room in their driveway. He could see Ian playing with Preston in the front yard. H
e was swinging him around in a circle while the little guy squealed and kicked his legs out. Jackie was sitting on the front porch, laughing at the way Preston did a dizzy side step when Ian set him down, just before he toppled over in a diaper clad heap.

  It hit him like a punch in the gut. The last time he'd seen such a happy little familial sight was when he took Nic to visit his parents just before he went on tour. His sister had been standing on the porch, his nephew Casey on her hip while she kissed his brother-in-law goodbye.

  He sat still for a moment, leaning his head back against the headrest briefly before waving to Ian and Jackie while he turned off the car.

  Sometimes it was like torture. Sometimes never knowing when the remembrances would come, bittersweet and filled with regret, was what bothered him the most. He supposed on this particular occasion it was to be expected. This was the first time in a while he'd seen the past in the flesh. He'd just have to stop being a pussy about it and get out of the fucking car.

  Unbuckle your seatbelt. Get out of the car. Remember, you're over this. And she's not here anyway.

  To confirm it, he checked the street as he got out and slammed the door. Her new car wasn't in sight, and neither was her boyfriend's motorcycle. An involuntary sneer curled his lip, but he didn't realize it was there. So what? Her new guy had a bike. Big whoop. He had a number one album. He sighed internally at the spike of residual jealousy that hit him. This wasn't a competition. And if it were, Travis would have won no matter how much money Gabriel was making, or how many albums he'd sold. After all, wasn't he the one that ended up with Nicole?

  Jackie's smile broadened as he drew closer, but she didn't get up from her seat. Gabriel found himself smiling at her blatant but secret power trip, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans as he strode forward. He was coming up on the sidewalk by the mailbox to their house, and though Ian was surprised at his appearance, she obviously was not. She'd expected him after all, and she took a sip of her lemonade to hide her smile at Ian's shock.

  "What's up, man?! What the hell are you doing here?" Ian said, lifting Preston up into his arms, a broad grin on his face as his longtime friend approached. He shifted his little boy to the other arm so he could bring Gabe into a brisk but warm embrace.

  "Had a feeling if I didn't show my face soon, someone was gonna hunt me down and break my fingers." Gabriel said with a smirk over Ian's shoulder, to which Jackie raised a warning eyebrow. "And how you doing little guy, huh? How are you?"

  Preston smiled a big toothless grin, dark eyes sparkling as he studied Gabriel's face and grabbed his upturned nose. Gabriel laughed, reaching out for Preston's nose, which only made him giggle and say, "Pa-pa! Gra-buh!" followed by something else in excited gibberish that he was trying to get his father to understand. He reached for Ian's nose, then Gabriel's again, before laughing and grabbing his own. Gabriel loved kids because stuff of like this. So easy to please.

  Gabriel righted himself, laughing at Preston's melodic squeaking noises and coos before saying, "It's real good to see you, dude. How you been holding up?"

  "Good, good," Ian said. He looked a little older and yet happier. "Can't complain. Got promoted at work, and sometimes Jackie lets me leave the house while she plans my total domination."

  "What?!"

  "I mean our wedding, baby, the happiest day of my life."

  Gabriel cracked an invisible whip, to which Jackie said, "I heard that," as she got to her feet.

  "Heard what?" Nicole said as she came out of the screen door.

  He froze in his tracks, as did Jackie when she followed his startled gaze behind her.

  Just for a second as the screen door slammed closed she didn't see him. One second in time where he could see her the way she was now without shock marring her pretty face. It was a strangely timed moment. He'd been hidden behind Ian just as she was coming outside. She was so distracted by Jackie's exclamation that she didn't focus on him until a moment later. But in that second of unadulterated movement, when she wasn't stiff with recognition of him, she looked...

  Fucking gorgeous.

  It was like the wind was whooshed out of him, and he was left silently praying for more air. She was in a simple gray t-shirt, dark blue shorts showcasing those long, creamy legs, a glass of lemonade in one delicate little hand. She was barefoot, her shorter hair parted down the middle and thrust behind her ears. So simple was the picture she painted, and yet he couldn't take his eyes off of her. He could barely muster up the impetus to do anything but stare at her, even though his mind was screaming at him to move, to speak.

  Dark eyes found his. Locked on his. Widened. What was in them he couldn't quite measure. A dollop of anguish, a teaspoon of anger.

  A pinch of happiness.

  A handful of lust.

  He wondered if his eyes were half as revealing, if they were saying what he was thinking after being caught with his heart unshielded from the sight of her.

  God, I miss you, sweetheart... miss you so fucking much...

  She was still as a statue, full lips slightly parted. The first thing she was able to do with any semblance of cognition was quirk her lips upwards into the beginnings of a smile. Then her lips slammed shut. She blinked, swallowed, took a shaky step forward.

  And tripped on the first step of the porch, a nasty awkward trip that made her slip and grab the railing. A trip that splashed the glass of lemonade she was holding all down Jackie's treacherous back. Yeah, treacherous was the perfect word for this run-in with the past. In an instant the sound of glass crashing and splintering accompanied a shrill high pitched, "Shit!", followed by Jackie's shocked form shaking out one arm while gripping her own spilled lemonade. She spun her gaze on her younger sister and Gabe knew what Nicole was witnessing.

  Fire. Brimstone. Death in a tiny package otherwise known as her older sister.

  The usual.

  "Oh my God, Jackie, I'm so sorry—"

  "Ah, ah! Stay there, dummy!" Jackie yelled to which Nicole halted movement like a bloodhound on the scent; one foot in midair, the other wobbling as she tried to gain balance. "You're barefoot and I don't want you cutting yourself."

  He could see her swallow. Jackie said something about getting a towel.

  “I can get you a towel,” Nicole offered, which Jackie laughed off dismissively.

  "Say ‘hi’ to Gabriel. I'm gonna go change." Jackie said. Then, to Ian, "Baby, get a broom and dust pan for me would you?"

  "But…” he gestured to Preston. It would be quite a feat to sweep up glass while toting a one year old around, and it would make more sense for her to just get it herself, or let Nicole get it.

  Jackie chose to ignore this logic in favor of blatantly staging a reunion.

  "It's cool, I'll take Preston, while you go sweep this up." Jackie said. Of course that's not all that passed between the two. They must have thought Nicole and Gabriel were blind as they proceeded to have a private conversation with their eyes and subtle gestures. It bordered on telepathy.

  Nicole laughed and lifted her shoulders in a helpless shrug for Gabriel's sake. He watched as Jackie grabbed Preston and Ian hopped the railing of the porch steps so he didn't track glass into the house.

  A moment of painful silence passed between them. Gabriel cleared his throat. Nicole nibbled her bottom lip.

  "Some things never change, huh?" she joked using a sweeping gesture to point out her broken handiwork all over the bottom step.

  Gabriel laughed, thankful for the burst of levity that cut into the pounding in his chest. He maneuvered carefully around the broken glass that kept her stranded on the second to last step. Broken pieces, a metaphor for everything between them, glittering in the noon day sun. He looked down at the shards before them, then up at her as he approached the same railing that Ian had jumped. She gave him a smile that matched his sheepish half-grin perfectly.

  "Can I get a hug now?" he asked softly. His voice quavered and he had to will his hands not to shake.

  She nodded
and leaned over the railing to embrace him. The look in her eyes when he grasped her waist instead and lifted her in the air did familiar and powerful things to his body. Her fingers dug into his forearms; her eyes searched his. He watched her tongue swipe across her lips, eyed the creamy smoothness of her legs as she tucked them into her chest. He brought her easily up and over the obstacle separating them, and the closer she came the more he felt transported back to the way things were.

  Her hands were shaking, her slick palms sliding against the veined muscle and downy hair of his forearms. He set her down gently on the grass in front of him, his fingers sliding around until they rested lightly on her back. She brought her arms up to rest on his shoulders, swept them over the rounded muscle and broadness there. Her fingers caught on the fabric of his shirt; he could almost feel the softness of her skin under the flimsy, worn cotton of her t-shirt. Every where their bodies connected he felt heat. When he finally wrapped his arms around her it was like drowning, sinking into the past.

  A flash of her fingers on his skin, her nails digging in as she sighed against his neck just before her lips found his. The sound of her moan. The sound of her laugh. Soft skin, gentle kisses. The way it felt to be trusted, needed, and wanted. How safe and scared he felt being loved by her. He could almost feel himself back there, falling asleep with her fingers woven into his, the lifelines and love lines on their palms flirting with forever.

  He was being battered by a phantom, a ghost of what used to be that he couldn't fight or cage. How could he when it was in the very ether surrounding them? He looked away from her eyes, knelt down to keep his hips away from hers. But her breasts still felt like a firebrand against his chest. Her breath against his neck still did things to him, things he had convinced himself she couldn’t do anymore when distance made it easy to deceive himself.

  And her hair. It was shorter now, but still soft, still the sweet scent of lilacs that made his eyes close over unshed tears as he suppressed a moan of pleasure.