Patch Up

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Patch Up Page 21

by Stephanie Witter


  I plunge a hand in his hair and tug on some strands without mercy, rising up on my tiptoes to get closer, to deepen the kiss. He groans low in his throat and I let him back me up against his car, his hips now flush against mine. His desire against my stomach frightens me like I knew it would, but it also ignites a fire inside of me I forgot a long time ago.

  He breaks the kiss and I thought he’d put some distance between us, but instead he lowers his head and kisses under my right ear and glides his soft, wet tongue down the side of my throat to kiss the hollow between my shoulder and my neck. I shiver. It tingles right to my toes, passing through my belly. He brushes his lips along my collarbone, stretching my oversized shirt on the right side. His goatee traces a trail of fire on my skin melting from the assault of his hot lips and tongue.

  “Duke ...” I’m breathless, panting, forgetting where we are. I even ignore the fear gnawing my inside. It feels so good; he feels so good.

  “I know, I’m going to stop.” He breathes me in and kisses again under my ear and along my jaw. His mouth feels amazing. His body against mine is incredible. I let my hands wander on his strong back. “Fuck. I don’t want to stop,” he groans in my ear before kissing me again on the lips. I moan louder and claw at his hips with both hands. I can’t push him away.

  He bites my lower lip and softens the bite with his silky tongue, plunging inside my mouth and playing with mine. I shiver again and he breaks the kiss, his eyes now alight with desire and not anger.

  “Spend the night with me.” It’s not a question.

  My fear awakens more now that his mouth is not on me and his hands are chaste on my narrow waist. “I ... I’m not sure.” Lust is making my voice breathier than ever and he closes his eyes briefly, his breath hitching before he exhales between his teeth. He bites hard on his full lower lip.

  “I won’t try anything,” he pleads, his voice sounding more normal.

  I nod and feel cold when he steps away to let me climb into his car. I’m not sure I’m being wise, because after such a kiss, the lust in the air remains between us. I don’t think he’s the only one who should be careful. In theory, wanting to sleep with him right now is good, but thinking about afterwards, I’m not sure I’m ready. I’m still afraid to let him see me, to let myself surrender to him, to let myself lose the little control I have just for pleasure. It still feels too much of a risk.

  * * *

  “Your roommate is never here,” I say, just to break the silence. I don’t care at all about his roommate. Not at all.

  He shrugs and puts away a discarded sweater that was laying on his bed. Sitting down, he throws his boots under his bed, probably too far under to easily grab them the next morning. “He’s head over heels with his girlfriend, but her parents don’t want her to live with him before she graduates.”

  I nod like I’m captivated, but really we both know it’s just to stall the impending talk. It’s not because he took my defense against Sean, or because we kissed like sex crazed people, that we can ignore the fact that we had an argument yesterday.

  Walking to his bed, I sit next to him and turn to face him, a leg pulled up against my chest. “I have something to ask you and ...” I look at his necklace and a pang of pain shoots through me. “I need you to be truthful.”

  He clears his throat, fishes a cigarette from his pocket, and grabs a lighter on his bedside table. The smoke assaults my nose and makes me slightly dizzy; I’d never get used to it. “Shoot.”

  I point to his necklace and his breath catches in his throat before going back to normal almost instantly. “What’s the story behind the necklace?”

  He takes a puff of his cigarette, keeps the smoke longer than necessary in his lungs, and exhales slowly. “I gave it to her for our first year anniversary. After she died, her parents gave it to me.”

  He doesn’t have to tell me who he’s talking about. Juliet. He still hates to talk about her or her death, and it’s hard for me to just surrender when I know what is in his heart. A one night stand is not about feelings or commitment, I know that, but with my past and my issues I need someone really here with me. Duke is not here with me, not fully.

  “Yet you still wear it.”

  He tugs on his hair with his free hand and brings the other to his mouth, his cigarette already nearly finished. “She was my best friend.”

  I frown, not sure I heard his whisper right, but his eyes look far away and I know he’s about to deliver another part of him. I put my arms around my bent up knee and wait, afraid if I mutter a single word the moment will be over.

  “Our mothers were friends since high school and we grew up together.” He sighs and a sad smile appears on his face before quickly vanishing. “I wasn’t always in love with her, either. We weren’t the most romantic people or anything like that, but one day after a guy broke her heart, I found her crying on her bed and I opened my eyes. Slowly we got closer and became a couple.” He puts his cigarette in the ashtray on his bedside table and crosses his arms over his chest; his head hangs between his shoulders.

  She was his best friend. She was always there. She was always one of the most important people in his life. She saw him grow up, make mistakes, and saw the awesome guy that he was becoming. God, it must be so hard to lose someone you’re so close to.

  “You see her parents often?” I ask because now I want to know if her life is still entangled with his even though she’s not here anymore.

  He shakes his head, still not looking at me. His knees seem to have all his attention. “They moved away to Texas a couple of months after she died.”

  I don’t know what to think about it. Somehow, the day of the accident he lost his best friend, his lover, a part of his future and his second family. God, I can’t even imagine how messed up he must have been after all this. It’s like all his anchors disappeared in a blink of an eye. You can’t patch that up easily; you may never recover.

  I put a hand on his shoulder and squeeze softly, unable to find the kind of words that would help, if such words even exist. I don’t know what it’s like to face such a thing. All I can understand and relate to is his pain.

  “I don’t want your pity, Skye.” His voice is more assured, less sad and far harsher than I expected.

  I almost recoil, my heart pounding hard, but I hold on and don’t move. His gaze is still down and I know he doesn’t want me to see his emotions churning in his expressive dark eyes.

  “Look at me.” He doesn’t move. I bring my hand from his shoulder to his chin and force his head up. His eyes are red but there’s no trace of tears in them. He won’t let himself lose it in front of me. I keep my hand on his chin, my eyes on his. “I do not pity you. I never will do such a thing.”

  He grits his teeth and nods. “But you see me differently now,” he says quietly, his tone softer.

  I arch one eyebrow. “Well, I see your tattoos differently.”

  He chuckles and looks down at his arms. I let go of his face, but he grabs my free hand and entwines our fingers. His fingertips are cold. “I got them four months after her death. Some kind of rebellion.” He chuckles again and I let myself smile. “Also, the pain helped me to deal with the one gnawing at my insides. Physical pain is easier to deal with than that.”

  I nod; we are on the same page about this. Sometimes physical pain is indeed easier to deal with than the mental ones. It distracts too. “It’s not as badass looking now, you know,” I say with a laugh, making the weird mood disappear.

  He squeezes my fingers with his and laughs with me, but it’s not the full belly-laugh I know. I can’t ask for too much. “It must be disappointing for you. I know good girls in fact love guys with badass tattoos.”

  I roll my eyes and bump his shoulder with mine. “I’m so transparent.”

  And the silence falls again between us, but this time it’s not an awkward one. It’s peaceful and good. I pull a little on his hand and encourage him back against the wall behind his bed. Just like mine. We lean our back aga
inst the cold wall and I close my eyes.

  I feel the bed move. I have to try to have confidence enough in Duke to put down my guard. I’m tense now, but I don’t open my eyes. Not even when the fingers of his free hand lightly caress my face from my left temple and down to the left side of my jaw.

  “I’d love for you to see how beautiful you are, just like I see you,” he whispers close to my face, his breath fanning my cheek and I shiver, my fingers gripping his hand tighter where his thumb is now tracing small circles.

  I open my eyes and lock with his. He’s closer than I thought. There’s a worry line between his thick eyebrows but his eyes don’t show any worry. They’re just displaying need and lust. He’s trying to find some comfort, and sex is a way to forget everything. I know that about him and I can understand even if I don’t envision sex the same way. Though I want to give him some comfort, I can’t give it to him the way he’s looking for. I don’t want it to happen just because he’s upset and sad. It shouldn’t be like this between us.

  But there’s something in him that compels me, something that takes me to the edge of recklessness. I don’t move away from him. “I’m nothing special,” I whisper back, and smile a little when I see him shiver as my breath hits him. He’s as affected as I am and it’s good for my weak ego.

  “I could show you how beautiful you are. I could make you feel beautiful,” he whispers again, but this time his voice has an urgent accent. It’s deeper, too, and travels straight to my belly.

  God, he really knows what he’s doing. Just with words he can turn me on. I’m blinking like an idiot, almost unable to muster a quarter of my IQ. It’s weird how hormones can mess you up. Just as I’m about to answer, his lips are on mine and I blank again.

  He leans more against me, never pulling his lips away. I let him lead me so that I’m lying on the bed, Duke above me. He’s supporting most of his weight with his elbows while his hands brush my hair and face softly. His stomach, hips, and legs are against my body and it’s exhilarating but makes me nervous.

  My hands move from his hair to his back but I don’t really know what I should do. Right now, I’m worse than when I was a virgin. Maybe Sean was right. Maybe I am frigid. Maybe Duke will compare me with all the other girls he had, and he will be disappointed. Maybe I’m just not good at it.

  I break the kiss and breathe heavily in Duke’s neck. He’s about to kiss me in the crook of my neck when he pulls away, now supporting himself with his hands and not his elbows, putting some space between our bodies.

  “Something’s wrong?” His eyes are looking at my face, paying attention to my gaze and tense lips.

  “It’s too much,” I say, my voice colder than I intended.

  Duke sits abruptly and runs both hands on his face and his goatee. He mumbles something that sounds like sorry and looks at the ground. I’m not so innocent that I don’t know what he’s doing. He’s trying to calm down and make the bulge in his pants disappear. Is it normal to feel guilty?

  * * *

  “Tell me again why I accepted?” I ask Kate as we’re waiting outside the Trinity Club.

  Kate is stunning with her deep green dress, mid-thigh in length and showing her bare back. Her generous hips are accentuated tastefully and even though I’m pretty sure she’s freezing despite the warm spring night, I’m a little jealous of her appearance.

  On the other hand, she convinced me to put on one of her dresses. I didn’t want to, of course, but complied when she gave me a look; the puppy dog look. She’s really mastered this one. So now I’m barely warm enough to not have my teeth clacking thanks to the knee-length black dress. Showing my legs is already hard, but the display of my cleavage makes it worse for me. I can’t cross my arms over my chest; it accentuates my breasts even more. That’s the only generous part of my body and right now I’m craving one of my oversized sweaters.

  I make a face when I begin to pace next to Kate. Her peep-toe black high heels are going to be the death of me.

  “You shouldn’t walk along the sidewalk like that,” she says, extending an arm toward me. I know she’s freezing but it’s her own fault. “Don’t forget what I told you. Derek is older and he makes me nervous. You and Duke will diffuse possible dull moments, and then I’ll be able to get to know him better.”

  All this week Derek, Kate, Duke, and I had coffee together. Since the party, we formed some kind of little gang and it’s quite enjoyable even if I still feel out of my comfort zone when it comes to social interactions. So, the whole week Kate and Derek talked and even seemed to forget that we were there from time to time. I never saw a dull moment between them, but I did see Kate flush several times. It’s new and I’m pretty sure that’s what is really bothering her. For once, a guy is more complicated to get and she’s more interested than usual. It’s a heady cocktail.

  “Why shouldn’t I pace?” I ask, ignoring her worries about her night out with Derek, with Duke and me as chaperones. It’s weirder when put like this.

  “Because you could be asked what your price is for the night.” She laughs and I walk to her to slap her bare arm playfully.

  “Do I really look like a ... you know?” I frown and look down again, my eyes seeing only my cleavage. From here, I can even see the black lacy bra I bought yesterday.

  She laughs harder and shakes her head. “You’re crazy. You. Are. Gorgeous. Now calm down, they’re coming.”

  I turn around and almost topple over. Damn heels. Duke’s eyebrows disappear behind some locks of hair falling in his eyes. His gaze travels from my feet and up my legs that look longer than when I am in jeans, and stop a second longer on my cleavage before it settles on my face. He’s blushing. I mean, Duke, the hot TA with an impressive list of girls with whom he’s had sex, is blushing.

  “You’re ...” he begins, but fails to finish his sentence. He looks away to the bouncer carding people at the entry. “Stay close to me or some other guy will sweep you away.”

  I roll my eyes and shrug. Like that’s going to happen. I can barely talk to other people beside Derek, Kate, and Duke, so a complete stranger ...

  Speaking of Derek and Kate, those two are already in their own bubble with Derek smiling at her, a hand on her bare back. She’s blushing and giggling softly. They’re flirting more openly but it’s sweet to see. I hope Kate won’t run away when she realizes that she cares way more about him than for just one or two nights. Her repulsion about relationships makes me kind of anxious.

  “Guys, I’m freezing. Let’s go in,” Duke says, catching their attention. They agree and lead the way before going back to talking about who-knows-what. Duke shakes his head with an amused smile tugging at his sensual lips. He puts a hand around my shoulders and I lean against him without thinking. It’s getting almost automatic now.

  “I’m not sure they need us,” I whisper to him when we’re waiting for our turn to walk in. There are three groups of people in front of us, nothing major.

  “I’m pretty sure we’ll be on our own tonight,” he agrees, squeezing my shoulders and playing with my hair, which I didn’t want to put in a messy bun like Kate wanted me to.

  “Is it bothering you?” I ask him, suddenly worried it annoys him to spend even more time with me alone. After all, we see each other every day, we text each other—mainly to know if I saw Sean or not—and we have coffee every day, too.

  He frowns. “No. You?” he asks back, his voice clipped.

  “Of course not!”

  “So what’s the matter?”

  I shrug and take two steps with Duke still glued to me. Kate and Derek are now laughing loudly. “I’m going to freak out inside and you’ll have to calm me down, again. It’s getting old, don’t you think?”

  He leans down toward my ear, and his goatee brushes my thin skin. “Kissing you is not getting old.” The movement of his lips forming the words sends a shiver down my spine. Heat floods to my cheeks.

  “Who talked about kissing?”

  “That’s our new thing to cal
m each other. The other night it worked well on me,” he replies mischievously, his dazzling smile making a group of girls giggle behind us. I even hear one of them claiming that Duke is ‘so hot that she’s about to wet her panties’.

  The girl is so not discreet and Duke and I begin to laugh like maniacs, unable to say anything more, barely able to show our IDs—the fake one for me—to the bouncer who scowls at us before grudgingly letting us in.

  As soon as we’re inside, the music assaults me, almost knocking me down. When I thought the parties from other students were loud, it’s nothing compared to this. I’m pretty sure tomorrow I’ll be deaf. Duke pulls his arm away from around my shoulders and grabs one of my hands instead, leading us to the bar. We already lost Kate and Derek.

  People are grinding against each other fervently on the dance floor and it’s difficult to navigate between the moving bodies. I’m not feeling very well with all the touching, but I manage to keep my cool. I’m not running away screaming yet.

 

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