Can't Go Back

by Marie Meyer

  Smiling, I moved faster. I grasped her hands, locking our fingers together above her head. She squeezed my hands and her muscles clenched. “Griffin,” she moaned.

  Hearing my name fall from her mouth nearly sent me over the edge. I thrust harder, pressing farther inside her. My tongue shoved into her mouth and she bucked her hips.

  “Ahhh…Jillian,” I sighed. Letting go of her hands, I propped my arms at the sides of her face, locking her beneath me.

  Jillian dragged her fingers over my sweat-slicked skin. I hadn’t thought it was possible to get any harder, but I did.

  “Griff!” Jillian screamed.

  I held her face in my hands. “I’m so close…,” I muttered, my lips grazing her jaw. Jillian’s fingernails dug into my shoulders. My muscles rippled in response. I knew she was close. “Come for me, Bean.”

  I thrust hard…twice…three times.

  Jillian closed her eyes and arched her back, synching her movements with mine.

  Then she clenched around me. So tight. She drew in a breath, and I watched her come undone. Stunning and fucking hot as hell.

  I pushed into her again…and again.

  Pleasure, like none I’d ever experienced, shot through my veins. A hum reminiscent of feedback buzzed in my ears, and I was lost. My body quaked, and I fell against Jillian with a sated grunt.

  Together we caught our breath. I rolled off her, stealing a kiss as I propped my head in my hand. Staring down at her, I couldn’t help the wicked smile pulling at the corners of my mouth. Her hair was a tangled, well-loved mess and her lips were swollen. I brushed some knotted strands away from her face.

  I was so gone for this girl. I always had been, but now it was so much more. It was the history, the now, and the future…the whole song we’d written together. “Sorry, Jillibean, I lied.”

  She scrunched her face. “Huh?”

  “Remember when I told you I’d planned to hold you hostage for days?” I said, smoothing my hand over her soft hair.

  She licked her bottom lip and sucked it into her mouth. I was hard in an instant.

  “Yeah.”

  I shook my head. “Try forever.”

  Jillian’s smile turned into a peal of laughter. “Promise?”

  “Damn straight.” There was no going back now. I leaned in close and claimed her mouth, ready for the encore.

  Epilogue

  In the distance my eyes fell on her silhouette. Against the backdrop of a burnt sky, she sat on the rocky beach facing the water. On a warm Friday in May, I was surprised to see the park so quiet. But then again, that’s why Jillian enjoyed coming here. It was peaceful.

  I killed the engine and pulled the keys from the ignition. Before stepping out of my car, I scooped up the little black box sitting on the passenger seat. I tucked it away in the glove box. That was for later.

  Pushing the Challenger’s door open, I stepped out quietly. I hit the key fob, locking up the car, and headed in Jillian’s direction. Gravel crunched under my boots as I walked across the weathered rocks. A light breeze blew inland off the rippling water.

  With the sun setting behind us, I made my way to the beach. As I sat down beside her, that familiar burn in my chest returned. A flame in my heart, and she was the acolyte.

  I nudged her with my shoulder.

  “You found me.” She took her eyes from the water, piercing me with a dark stare. She smiled.

  “Always.” I bumped her with my shoulder again, then reached around, drawing her to my side.

  We’d spent many quiet hours on this beach listening to the water lap at the shore, breathing in the ocean.

  After my accident three years ago, I’d been in a bad place. That summer had not been a happy time for us. Even though I’d made an almost complete recovery, I still couldn’t play the way I used to. Without music I was lost and angry.

  Music had always been an outlet for my emotions. What I couldn’t express verbally, I could always say in a song. But then I couldn’t look at my bass or guitar. In my head I knew how to play, I just couldn’t transfer the information to my fingers. Even the simplest rhythms fucked with me.

  The doctors said the same thing…give it time. I didn’t have time. Amphion wanted their badass rocker, but that wasn’t me anymore. I couldn’t play. And I was pissed. Most often Jillian was at the receiving end of my petulant attitude.

  I was the worst fucking patient. The day she made the decision to put design school on hold to help with my recovery was a wake-up call.

  In that moment I realized what a selfish bastard I’d become. All the years I’d pushed her away and robbed us of our time together had been for nothing.

  I sobered up.

  She had to go back to school. She’d done so well, accomplished so much. I’d become what I feared the most…an obstacle in the way of her dreams.

  I had to pull myself together, not just for Jillian’s sake, but for mine, too. My ability to play music had been the only casualty of my accident. I didn’t have the dexterity or fine motor control to play my bass like I used to. It was one of the hardest things I’d ever had to do, bow out of the band I’d helped create. But I was only bringing the guys down.

  After I’d helped them audition new bassists, I stayed on as Mine Shaft’s songwriter, and helped Leo in the production booth. Yet I still felt like something was missing. I needed a backup plan.

  Luckily, Leo had some connections in Boston, at the Berklee College of Music. I jumped at the opportunity. Not only did they offer a degree in production, Boston was only an hour from Providence.

  My decision to return to school even helped repair the strained relationship I had with my parents, especially my mom. When she’d thought she might lose me, our disagreement about my future hadn’t seemed so significant anymore. But that didn’t stop her from squealing with joy when I told her I was giving school another go.

  Now Jillian and I were both facing graduation…and our future.

  “What brought you out here?” I asked.

  This place had become Jillian’s retreat, a place to center her thoughts and listen to her heart.

  She lifted her chin to look at me. “I got a job offer today.”

  “Really?” I sat forward, angling my body in her direction.

  Pushing a strand of hair behind her ear, she nodded. “Mm-hm.”

  “Bean, that’s fantastic.” I hugged her. “Where? Who for?”

  She pulled away, giving me her full attention. “New York. Kate Spade.”

  New York. The place where her parents had died. To most fashion design graduates, a job offer in New York City was a big deal. But all Jillian saw was loss.

  “Bean,” I sighed. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned in these last three years, it’s that life’s too short not to try.” I scooped her tiny hands into mine and squeezed. “No matter how worried, scared, hurt, or pissed off you are, you have to try. For so many years, I was too scared and worried that I’d complicate your carefully planned dreams. I pushed you away, and we were both miserable. Had my accident been five months sooner, and I hadn’t survi—”

  “Griffin,” she interrupted, shaking her head. “Don’t.”

  “But don’t you see? We would have missed out on this.” I lowered my chin and used my thumb and forefinger to lift hers. I kissed her lightly, trailing my fingers over her collarbone and up her neck. “And this.” I pressed us closer, deepening the kiss. My tongue pushed past the seam of her lips, and I drank her in.

  I cupped her cheeks in my hands and pulled away, resting my forehead to hers. I stared into her eyes. “Jillian, don’t let this opportunity pass you by. We’ll conquer the city together.”

  Her lips slowly turned up at the corners, then touched her eyes. “You’d go with me?”

  I pulled away and shook my head, taken aback by the question. “What the hell kind of question is that? Of course I’d go with you.”

  She put her hand on my thigh. “What if you find a job somewhere else?”

&n
bsp; “Don’t worry about me. I’m pretty sure there are a lot of opportunities in the New York music scene.” I picked up her hand…her left hand, placing a kiss right where her graduation present would sit tomorrow night. “It’s you and me, Jillibean. Forever.” I leaned in and kissed her again. “And that’s a promise.”

  Please see the next page for an excerpt from Jillian’s side of the story

  Across the Distance

  Available now

  Chapter One

  The tape screeched when I pulled it over the top of another box. I was down to the last one; all I had left to pack were the contents of my dresser, but that was going to have to wait. Outside I heard my best friend, Griffin, pull into the driveway. Before he shut off the ignition, he revved the throttle of his Triumph a few times for my sister’s sake. Jennifer hated his noisy motorcycle.

  Griffin’s effort to piss Jennifer off made me smile. I stood up and walked to the door. Heading downstairs, I slammed the bedroom door a little too hard and the glass figurine cabinet at the end of the hall shook. I froze and watched as an angel statuette teetered back and forth on its pedestal. Shit. Please don’t break.

  “Jillian? What are you doing?” Jennifer yelled from the kitchen. “You better not break anything!”

  As soon as the angel righted itself, I sighed in relief. But a small part of me wished it had broken. It would have felt good to break something that was special to her. Lord knew she’d done her best to break me. I shook off that depressing thought and raced down the steps to see Griffin.

  When I opened the front door, he was walking up the sidewalk with two little boys attached to his legs: my twin nephews and Griffin’s preschool fan club presidents, Michael and Mitchell.

  Every time I saw Griffin interact with the boys, I couldn’t help but smile. The boys adored him.

  I watched as they continued their slow migration to the porch. Michael and Mitchell’s messy white-blond curls bounced wildly with each step, as did Griffin’s coal-black waves, falling across his forehead. He stood in stark contrast to the little boys dangling at his feet. Their tiny bodies seemed to shrink next to Griffin’s six-foot-four muscled frame.

  “I see that your adoring fans have found you.” I laughed, watching Griffin walk like a giant, stomping as hard as he could, the twins giggling hysterically and hanging on for dear life.

  “Hey, Jillibean, you lose your helpers?” he asked, unfazed by the ambush.

  “Yeah, right,” I said, walking out front to join him. I wrapped my arms around his neck and squeezed. I took a deep breath, filling my lungs with the familiar scents of leather and wind. A combination that would always be uniquely him. “I’m so glad you’re here,” I sighed, relaxing into his embrace. I felt safe, like nothing could hurt me when I was in his arms.

  Griffin’s arms circled my waist. “That bad, huh?”

  I slackened my grip and stepped back, giving him and the squirming boys at his feet more room. “My sister’s been especially vile today.”

  “When isn’t she?” Griffin replied.

  “Giddy up, Giff-in,” Mitchell wailed, bouncing up and down.

  “You about ready?” Griffin asked me, trying to remain upright while the boys pulled and tugged his legs in opposite directions.

  “Not really. I’ve got one more box to pack and a bunch to load into my car. They’re up in my room.”

  “Hear that, boys? Aunt Jillian needs help loading her boxes. Are you men ready to help?” he asked.

  “Yeah!” they shouted in unison.

  “Hang on tight!” Griffin yelled and started running the rest of the way up the sidewalk and onto the porch. “All right guys, this is where the ride ends. Time to get to work.” Griffin shook Michael off his left leg before he started shaking Mitchell off of his right. The boys rolled around on the porch and Griffin playfully stepped on their bellies with his ginormous boots. The boys were laughing so hard I wouldn’t have been surprised to see their faces turning blue from oxygen deprivation.

  Following them to the porch, I shook my head and smiled. Griffin held his hand out and I laced my fingers through his, thankful he was here.

  “I’ll get the trailer hitched up to your car and the stuff you have ready, I’ll put in the backseat. You finish up that last box; we’ve got a long trip ahead of us.” Griffin leaned in close and whispered the last part in my ear. “Plus, it’ll be nice to say adios to the Queen Bitch,” he said, referring to my sister.

  “Sounds like a plan.” I winked. “Come on, boys.” I held the door open and waved them inside. “If you’re outside without a grown-up, your mom will kill me.” They both shot up from the porch and ran inside.

  “Giff-in,” Michael said, coming to a stop in the doorway. “Can we still help?”

  Griffin tousled his hair. “You bet, little man. Let’s go find those boxes.” Griffin winked back at me and the three of them ran up the stairs.

  I trailed behind the boys, knowing that I couldn’t put off packing that last box any longer. When I got to my room, Griffin held a box in his hands, but it was low enough that the boys thought they were helping to bear some of its weight. “Hey, slacker,” I said to Griffin, bumping his shoulder with my fist. “You letting a couple of three-year-olds show you up?”

  “These are not normal three-year-olds,” Griffin said in a deep commercial-announcer voice. “These boys are the Amazing Barrett Brothers, able to lift boxes equal to their own body weight with the help of the Amazing Griffin.”

  I rolled my eyes at his ridiculousness and smiled. “You better watch it there, ‘Amazing Griffin,’ or I’ll have to butter the doorway to get your ego to fit through.”

  Still speaking in a cheesy commercial voice, Griffin continued, “As swift as lightning, we will transport this box to the vehicle waiting downstairs. Do not fear, kind lady, the Amazing Barrett Brothers and the Amazing Griffin are here to help.”

  “Oh, Lord. I’m in trouble,” I mumbled. And as swiftly as lightning (but really not), Griffin shuffled the boys out of the room and down the stairs.

  I grabbed my last empty box and walked across the room to my dresser. I pulled open a drawer and removed a folded stack of yoga pants, tees, and dozens of clothing projects I’d made over the years. Shuffling on my knees from one drawer to the next, I emptied each of them until I came to the drawer I’d been dreading. The one on the top right-hand side.

  The contents of this drawer had remained buried in darkness for almost five years. I was scared to open it, to shed light on the objects that reminded me of my past. I stared at the unassuming rectangular compartment, knowing what I had to do. I said a silent prayer for courage and pulled open the drawer.

  Inside, the five-by-seven picture frame still lay upside down on top of several other snapshots. I reached for the stack. The second my fingers touched the dusty frame I winced, as if expecting it to burst into flames and reduce me to a heap of ashes. Biting my lip, I grabbed the frame and forced myself to look.

  There we were. Mom, Dad, and a miniature version of me. Tears burned my eyes. My lungs clenched in my chest and I forced myself to breathe as I threw the frame into the box with my yoga pants. I pulled out the rest of the photos and tossed them in before they had a chance to stab me through the heart as well.

  Downstairs I could hear the boys coming back inside, and then footsteps on the stairs. Quickly I folded the flaps of the box and pulled the packing tape off the dresser. With another screech I sealed away all the bad memories of my childhood.

  “Well, my help dumped me,” Griffin said, coming back into my room alone. “Apparently I’m not as cool as a toy car.”

  Before he could see my tears, I wiped my wet eyes with the back of my hand, sniffled, and plastered on a brave smile, then turned around. “There. Done,” I proclaimed, standing up and kicking the box over to where the others sat.

  “You OK?” Griffin asked, knowing me all too well.

  “Yeah.” I dusted my hands off on my jean shorts. “Let’s get this show o
n the road.” I bent down to pick up a box, standing back up with a huge smile on my face. “I’m ready to get to college.”

  * * *

  Griffin took the last box from my hand and shoved it into the backseat of my car. “I’ll get my bike on the trailer, and then we’ll be ready to hit the road.” He wiped his upper arm across his sweaty forehead.

  I looked into his dark eyes and smiled. “Thanks,” I sighed.

  “For what?” With a toss of his head, he pushed a few errant curls out of his eyes.

  “For putting up with me.” He could have easily gotten a plane ticket home, but he knew how much I hated airplanes. The thought of him getting on a plane made me physically ill.

  He swung his arm around my neck, squeezing me with his strong arm. “Put up with you? I’d like to see you try and get rid of me.”

  With my head trapped in his viselike grip and my face pressed to his chest, I couldn’t escape his intoxicating scent. Even though it was too hot for his beloved leather riding jacket, the faint smell still clung to him. That, coupled with the heady musk clinging to his sweat-dampened t-shirt, made my head swim with thoughts that were well beyond the realm of friendship.

  I needed to refocus my thoughts, and I couldn’t do that pressed up against him. I shivered and pulled away. Taking a step back, I cleared my throat. “I’m going to tell Jennifer we’re leaving.” I thumbed toward the house.

  He scrutinized my face for a minute, then smirked. “Enjoy that. You’ve earned it.”

  I turned on my heel and let out a deep breath, trying desperately to rein in my inappropriate fantasies.

  Months ago our easygoing friendship had morphed into an awkward dance of fleeting glances, lingering touches, and an unspeakable amount of tension. I’d thought he’d felt it, too. The night of my high school graduation party, I went out on a limb and kissed him. When our lips met, every nerve ending in my body fired at once. Embers of lust burned deep inside me. I’d never felt anything like that before. The thought of being intimate with someone made me want to run to the nearest convent. But not with Griffin. When our bodies connected, I felt whole and alive in a way I’d never felt before.