Escape the Doubt

by Andrea Michelle

  He is completely unreadable and in control now. I can’t tell if he is angry, curious or just being protective. I want him neither of those. I want him to feel in need.

  I meet Josh’s eyes, and my insides fill with longing, with pain.

  I look back at Lucas to answer, “No. He’s not.”

  A tear slides down my cheek, and I wipe it away quickly before either guy see’s it fall. He’s not my boyfriend. He was and then he wasn’t, and it’s in this very moment that I realize that is the problem. I want him to be, but I don’t know how to express that. I don’t know if I can. I also think Josh is playing mind games with me, and I can’t figure out why. He is with Preslee. I believe that to be the truth.

  I don’t know why I do it. I think I’m fucking crazy. I think of all the times I saw Josh with some other girl. All the times I wanted it to be me, and he never saw it. I think about it, and I hate that I am thinking about it.

  It’s not fair. I know he watched me with Dean for two years, but right now in my state of mind...I’m selfish. All I think about is the pain I feel.

  So I decide that if he cares at all about me, then if he sees me with someone else, maybe it will hurt him the same way. It makes sense in my fizzled brain. So, I lift myself to straddle Lucas’s lap and place my hands in his hair. I hear a growl from across the room.

  Lucas flicks his eyes briefly away from me and to Josh. But then he leans back, and his now hooded eyes lock with mine.

  “Why do I feel like you’re using me, sweetheart?” he asks in that voice.

  “Because, I am.” I answer honestly. I lower my face to his and bat my lashes sweetly. “Now kiss me,” I demand. So, he does.

  Josh immediately has me picked up and thrown over his shoulder, “Enough fun for you. I’m taking your ass home,” he grunts.

  Let’s understand something. In my seventeen years of life, I have only kissed three people. Josh, because I had to, Dean, because he had to, and now...this Lucas guy—because he let me, and I am stupid.

  Lucas is smiling. Why is he smiling? God, guys are the most peculiar species.

  “Put me down, Josh. We can’t just leave. I rode with Emily.” I hit him on the back, and kick my feet trying to wiggle out of his grasp, but he is much stronger than I.

  He smacks my ass HARD! “Ow,” I squeal. Josh just squeezes me harder.

  “Stop fighting me. Brandt already took her home. You were too wrapped up in revenge to notice.” I slump.

  “What? She just left me here. How was I going to get home?” I might be drunk, but I’m not stupid. Well, that is questionable too, I guess.

  I sigh. I am pretty sure my ‘Ginger’ knew how I would get home. She did seem to be all, ‘Team Josh,’ today.

  We get to his truck outside, and when Josh puts me down, my stomach suddenly turns. I know I am going to be sick.

  “Oh, shit!” I rush to the grass. He holds my hair and rubs my back. I wretch until I dry heave. I feel like hell has swallowed me whole. I have just been a complete bitch to this boy, and he is standing here taking care of me. God, I feel beyond awful.

  When there is nothing left, I stand. Josh pulls his shirt off and wipes my mouth, and tosses his shirt in the back of his truck.

  “You okay?” he asks softly.

  “No,” I answer honestly.

  “I didn’t think so.”

  He takes my hand and pulls me into his chest. I hold him and breathe in his scent, the scent that I love. His skin is smooth and warm. Instantly, I know I have screwed up, but he is still my Josh.

  I want him to always be just that. MINE!

  CHAPTER 23

  Even drunk, even angry...she still needs me. That say’s something right?

  I was patient for as long as I could be. Brandt told me he was taking Emily home because she wasn’t okay to drive, and she was upset because it was her idea to bring Riley to the party. Thankfully, Brandt didn’t drink tonight, filling in the older brother role as always.

  Emily made me promise to bring Riley home, and if she refused she made me promise to stay here until morning when she picked up her car. She assumed Riley would pass out soon, but wasn’t comfortable leaving her alone with Lucas.

  Yeah, like I would let that happen anyway.

  Brandt sent everyone home. Everyone but this prick on the couch with my girl. Evidently, the douche is staying on this damn couch for a while. He didn’t elaborate with me, just said that he couldn’t kick him out and asked me to not kill him. I laughed and made no promises.

  When Riley straddles his lap, like she had me not too long ago, and begins kissing him, I feel a sudden bolt of rage flood my system, and a fucking need to protect her and keep her safe. It was my job. She was hurting herself, and it was my fault.

  All these years it was Dean’s fault but this… what she was doing tonight? This was my fault. Well, it technically was still Dean’s fault, because it was Preslee’s fault, but all in all—yep, it fell on me.

  When I get her outside, she loses it, and I mean literally. Actually, even though it’s gross, I am grateful. She has a helluva lot of tequila in her system, and I am glad she has emptied some of that.

  As soon as we are in the truck, she lays her head on the center console and groans. I bet she feels like shit. If she doesn’t now, she most definitely will in the morning.

  I buckle her up and she doesn’t move. I run my fingers through her hair and kiss the top of her head like I always do. I fear she has passed out, but then she sighs as though my touch hurts her.

  “Riley, you are the most frustrating girl I know. Ya know that?” I say.

  “M’hmm,” she mumbles in approval.

  “Thank you.” she garbles, and I look down at her in confusion.

  “For what exactly?” My tone is soft, and I can’t stop looking at her face. I want to take her pain away. I want her to trust me, to never feel this way. But she just keeps trying to push me away.

  “For… you… come… me… frust… ing… and… I… you…my… friend best…I’m sorry,” she stutters.

  I bit my lip to not laugh at her, because she is cute right now, and none of that made any sense whatsoever. “You’re drunk, baby girl, and I have no idea what you just said, but I accept your apology. I think that’s what that was anyway,” I say.

  She nods a little. I sigh and say, “I just wish you didn’t hate me right now.”

  She attempts to lift her head but fails. She ends up turning her head a little, gazing at me with her beautiful eyes looking the prettiest shade of blue in the dim light. Her hair is in her face, and I tuck it away behind her ears.

  She whispers, “I could never hate you, Josh. I love you too much. But...I hate me sometimes.”

  What does she mean by that? Why does she hate herself so much?

  I don’t get to ask her, because when I open my mouth to respond, her eyes are shut and her breathing has become shallow.

  CHAPTER 24

  Looking back, all the signs were there. My fear helped me ignore them and think I was safe. Even if I didn’t give away my heart completely, he held enough of it to hurt me. He wasn’t even supposed to have that much power. However, here I am feeling rejected and confused. It’s all a blur of pain

  I don’t wake up until I am dropped into my bed through my window, and Josh is climbing in after me. I’m confused. Why didn’t he just use the front door?

  “I don’t want you to get in trouble,” he shrugs answering my unasked question.

  I fall back onto my pillow on a groan. He is eyeing me all over, and I am eyeing him. “Be right back,” he says and peeks out into the hall before walking out of my room. I shut my eyes.

  Once he returns, he nudges me, and I reluctantly open my eyes. I’m so sleepy.

  “Here, open.” He says, handing me my toothbrush with the toothpaste already on it. I do as I’m told and attempt to brush my teeth.

  “Spit,” he places a cup before me, and again I do as I’m told.

  He places a white pil
l into my palm and hands me a glass of water. “You will need this.” I gratefully swallow the pill and drink the entire glass in one gulp. My mouth is parched.

  He takes off my shoes and then pulls the covers away and tucks me in. He lowers himself to kiss my forehead, “Now sleep.”

  It is such a sweet gesture that I am falling in love with him all over again. He still has his shirt off, and I want to feel him, to hold him. I want his skin to warm mine.

  I pout and hold out my arms “Stay with me,” I whine and reach for his neck. “Pleeeaasssee?” I beg and pout some more.

  He studies my face and sighs. He walks to lock my door, and when he turns around, I see the struggle in his eyes.

  He uses his feet to take off his shoes, and when he unbuttons his jeans and takes them off, all I see is my Josh standing before me with nothing on but his boxers. I have forgotten completely about how sleepy I was, or that I was angry with him. I suddenly feel hungry—for him.

  He climbs in and pulls my back to his chest to spoon, but that’s not what I want, so I turn over. I wrap my leg around his hip and pull him close. I snuggle in tightly under his chin, breathing in his smell.

  He tenses, and I can feel his heart beat on my cheek. Thump! Thump! Our music is going crazy inside of his chest.

  I am engulfed in his scent and his warmth, and I am still a little drunk. And I am in need, but he doesn’t move to touch me. Not yet.

  I hear a little jingle from under my bed, and for a second, I’m confused as to what that sound is, but then I remember.

  “What’s that sound?” he asks me.

  “That’s my Tink. And her bell, it’s on her collar. You get it? Tinker Bell?” I start laughing at myself, and I’m pretty sure it wasn’t funny, but for whatever reason I think it is.

  “M’kay,” Josh says chuckling and snuggles me closer to him.

  He brushes the hair away from my face and places a contented kiss on my forehead as he always does. He wraps his arm around my waist and hugs me tightly against him, resting his chin on my head. There is no space left between us. My leg is around his hip, my chest is pressed up against his, it feels—perfect.

  Just for a moment, I let myself forget everything else. I need this moment of respite. I pull back just enough that our faces are inches apart now. His nose is almost touching my nose.

  I watch his eyes study mine. I see it. Sadness. Regret. Remorse. Longing...even love. It hurts to see it, and I want to forget it’s there, and that all of those emotions are sitting inside of me, too.

  He moves his hand from around my waist and runs his fingertips down my leg over my hip and back up until his palm is cupping my ass. An involuntary shiver runs up my spine, and delicious tingles are following his fingers path. I press my hip into him involuntarily. Now, we are perfectly lined up.

  His eyes are boring into mine, penetrating every barrier. Everything I’ve tried to hide from him, I feel peeling away, and I’m scared shitless. I am open to him like this, and I can feel him in my most tender spot. His thumb is caressing the side of my shorts now and I want him to touch me. God, help me. I want him.

  I shut my eyes and inhale deeply. I can feel his breath on my lips. He is so close, and I have a moment of trepidation. My body is covered in goose bumps, and now I have this coiling feeling in my stomach. He gently kisses each of my eyelids, my lips part as I exhale slowly. I feel him pull back slightly, and when I open my eyes dazedly, I find him studying my face. His eyes are clouded. He is fighting something. I can sense his inner battle.

  “Josh?” I ask breathlessly.

  He moves his hand away from my hip and skirts it up my side, brushing the side of my breast before he cups my cheeks with both hands. He’s going to kiss me.

  “Shhh,” he whispers and then it happens. The Earth turns on its axis, my world stops. He so softly pecks my lips, gently licks along my bottom lip, parting my mouth, seeking permission to enter. A soft moan escapes me. My lips begin to quiver. His tongue enters my mouth and dances seductively with my own. The kiss is slow, sensual and damn near unravels me. It’s over much too fast. He doesn’t deepen it, even when I reach up and pull at his shoulders before tangling my fingers into his hair—begging him to do so. He keeps the kiss completely sweet and a breath away from innocent.

  I am fully aware that this is blurring the lines of our relationship further. When he pulls back I am panting, I am shaking, I am beyond in need. He smiles the sexiest smile and taps his index finger to my nose.

  “You need to sleep.” He pecks my mouth one last time and rolls to his back, leaving me a quivering hot mess.

  After a few minutes of silence and the sound of his breathing trying and failing to lull me to slumber, I take a peek and see his eyes are wide open and staring at my ceiling. Awake.

  “Josh?” I breathe

  “Hmm.”

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Go for it,” he says without moving or looking at me.

  “Why did you get me a white kitten? I mean...I think she is beautiful, don’t get me wrong. But she is white as snow and had to be hard to find. I just wondered, why you chose her over others that are easier to find.” I don’t know why I choose this question now, but I’ve been wondering it.

  She is a ragdoll kitten. And I know other kittens like calicos could be found free and anywhere.

  He rolls onto his side propping up on his elbow. He gives me a look like he didn’t expect to have to answer this question. “I chose her because white reminds me of purity…of innocence. It’s how I see you, and her breed is known to be loyal to their owners, like a puppy would be. Everything about her seemed perfect and beautiful…like you.”

  Wow.

  I watch his face closely. “You think I’m pure and innocent?” I state it like a question.

  He frowns, “I see you that way. If you are or aren’t doesn’t matter to me.”

  Doesn’t matter? It matters to me.

  I sit up needing him to understand it. “Well, you’re right you know?”

  He reaches his hand up and smoothes my frown line. “Right about what?” his voice is soft and alluring.

  This shouldn’t make me sad, but it does, because I feel like I saved myself and in the end it was pointless.

  “About my innocence. I um, I never, I mean...I am a—, Well, it doesn’t matter, because, in the end...I’m not the kind of girl anyone wants anyway.” I shake my head and look away from him.

  “Ooookay” he says slowly. “Why do you say you’re not wanted?”

  Is he crazy? Because my boyfriend of two years dumped me after I wouldn’t have sex with him. Because even Josh, who is lying here in my bed looking edible, would choose a girl like Preslee over a girl like me.

  Sex. Sex. Sex. That is all they want.

  “Because Josh. All you guys want is a girl that’s easy. Y’all don’t see it as something special to share with someone you love or care about. It doesn’t matter that it’s a big deal, a huge decision to make yourself that vulnerable.” I whisper.

  He sits up and turns my face to meet his. “Not all guys, Riley.”

  I want to believe him, but Preslee was at his house for a while alone. Like really? Am I supposed to believe they were just talking?

  “Did I ever tell you why Dean broke up with me?” I ask.

  He recoils slightly from hearing Dean’s name and shakes his head.

  “Well, it was simple actually. Have sex with him, or he was going to break up with me and find someone who would. I told him over and over again that I wasn’t ready, to please not pressure me, but he was relentless. He tried to make me feel guilty, and it worked. I did feel guilty. Not for not doing it, but because I knew the reason I wasn’t giving him what he wanted wasn’t because I wasn’t ready. It was because...I didn’t want it to happen with him. He wasn’t the one I wanted to share that with.” I know I’ve just declared something huge to him—and to myself.

  He clears his throat and shifts the comforter on his lap. It had f
allen away from his bare chest when he sat up. His muscles, his tattoo, his chest all stir a desire in me. I study every inch while he looks at my face knowing I am doing so.

  “Who did you want…ya know…um, to share that with?” He asks nervously, cautiously, even though he already knows the answer.

  I don’t hesitate in my answer, and I make sure my eyes are locked with his when I do. “You. I wanted you. I still want you.” I say softly. I’m making myself vulnerable, but he should know, right? Right.

  His chest is heaving, his eyes don’t waiver away from mine. I’m very careful, very confident in what I am about to do.

  I climb onto his lap slowly. He doesn’t stop me. He just watches me with hooded eyes.

  I touch his lips and then cup his cheek before moving to run my fingers through his hair. I feel his arousal, and my body is humming, aching for his touch.

  “I’m just curious of something, Josh.” I say, my voice sounding surprisingly seductive.

  “What’s that?” He says, refusing to touch me. No, his hands are placed carefully at his sides, although he is gripping the blanket as though he is fighting the instinct to touch me. I like it.

  I reach for the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head. I’m wearing a black lace bra. He swallows hard, and his eyes are naturally drawn to where I want them. “What are you doing?” he asks me, his own voice sounding dark and needy.

  “Testing a theory.” I say as I glide one of my hands down my stomach to the buttons of my shorts, while I push his chest back to lying down with my other.

  I have him positioned right where I want him, and I know he is completely affected by me by the dilation of his eyes and the groan he makes deep in his throat. I really like that sound.

  I lean up onto my knees that are on both sides of his hips. I unclasp and unzip my shorts. I open them enough that my tattoo is visible, and he can see my nice black lace bra has a matching friend of black lace panties.

  “Dean wanted someone who would be open with him, kinda like I am right now, I would assume. I wasn’t that way for him, and he left me. I know the kind of girl Preslee is. I’m thinking maybe you like—no, let me rephrase that. Maybe you want the same kind of girl. I’m just curious, if I let you touch me here,” I reach up and cup my breast with my left hand “or here?” I reach between my legs onto my panties to cup myself with my right hand. “Would you want me, would you choose me instead of her?” I breathe heavy and look down at him, waiting for his reply.