by Kaia Bennett
“Aw Flynn, are you serious?” When he nodded she sighed, running a hand through her black bob and then crossing her arms. “When did this happen?”
“Tuesday,” he whispered.
He looked away and pulled the towel off his lip to inspect the blood soaking into the wet threads. He winced as it clung to the shredded flesh and ran his tongue over it.
“So what did you do to screw it up?”
He shook his head with a snort and stood, walking to the sink. “Of course it’s my fault,” he said with a liberal dollop of sarcasm.
“Well, you haven’t been your usual collected, un-stupid self lately. Case in point being tonight.”
He couldn’t argue with that, especially now that he was getting a good look at himself in the mirror. What a fucking train wreck. If he looked better than Luca, it wasn’t by much. His right eye was almost swollen shut and claret liquid was beading rapidly over the cut on his eyebrow. The left side of his bottom lip looked like it had been freeze framed as he walked past a hall of mirrors, enlarged and obviously swollen in comparison to the other half.
He peeled his lip back and bared his teeth. They were coated a frothy reddish-pink and the cut was deep and oozing. His nose was also swollen, but thankfully not broken. Of course that wasn’t even factoring in the bruised ribs, and soreness vibrating in his back.
Eyes still on his hideous reflection, he turned on the water and bent over. He cupped it in his hands and gulped it, swishing it around and spitting the blood out, repeating until the white porcelain only had traces of pink in the spit swirling at the drain. All the while he felt Cherise eyeing him from her post at the door, her disapproval wafting over him like a cheap perfume.
“What?” he asked in irritation. He was staring at her frowning face through the mirror.
“What happened between you and Gia? And don’t tell me it’s none of my business, or so help you God…”
He closed his mouth around the words she predicted he’d say. Cherise didn’t make idle threats, just like Bobby didn’t pump his brakes when he came up against people’s boundaries. They were perfect for each other, he mused bitterly.
He went back to sitting on the toilet with a pained groan, pressing the towel to the cut on his brow again before it dripped down into his eye. Was he ever going to stop bleeding?
“We had a fight. We broke up. The End,” he said in a singsong voice.
She shook her head and looked towards the ceiling with a bitter laugh. “I’m just gonna take a wild guess here and say that fight was over Luca.”
“Among other things.”
“Ugh! I just… I can’t even look at you right now…”
He looked at her like she was losing her mind. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“It means that girl was crazy about you, dude. Crazy with a capital ‘C’. And you just had to go and fuck it up by getting all jealous?”
“Yeah, well, she got over the craziness real quick, didn’t she? Just ask Luca how quickly she got over me.”
She stared at him for a long moment, and the scrutiny of her gaze made him want to punch something, made him want to hide.
“Does she know? Did you even tell her?”
He looked up, his face a picture of battered puzzlement. He was going to ask her what she meant, but one look made it obvious what she meant. There was a second where he stared at her with so much pain in his eyes that her expression softened. He had to look away. The pity in Cherise’s eyes was making him sick, making him realize with sobering clarity just how much he missed her.
“No,” he said quietly.
No, he hadn’t told Gia he loved her. He’d made sure he didn’t get the chance.
“Flynn, maybe if you just told her—”
“I don’t want to talk about her. I don’t want to think about her,” he said firmly. “I just want to be left alone.”
Any argument she would have launched died when he looked up at her. All the walls were back in place, all the windows boarded up. There was no more access to Flynn’s thoughts.
She nodded and said, ‘I’ll get you some ice for the eye. You can crash here tonight, if Bobby doesn’t toss you out for head butting him in the face.”
“Shit,” he hissed, immediately recalling that he had knocked his head into someone as they grabbed him from behind. “Is he okay?”
“Just a bloody nose. Nothing one of my tampons can’t fix,” she said with a wicked little laugh as she opened the door.
Just before she left she said, “I never figured you for a punk, Flynn. Stubborn, maybe. An ass? Sure. But never a punk that runs away from the truth. I just hope you do the right thing; I’d really hate to be wrong about you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
It was Sunday night and Gia was staring out the window, mindlessly doodling in the notebook she should be studying from. Distraction had been a constant companion ever since her breakup with Flynn and the funeral that followed. It was hard to believe that so much had happened in just a few short months. But all that drama didn’t have anything on the past week, which had been pure torture. She had gone home for the weekend, where her parents and friends had asked why she kept moping and staring at her phone to see if she got any new messages.
Even if she had, she wouldn’t have known what to say, which is why she hadn’t been able to muster up the courage to go to Psych two classes in a row. It didn’t matter anyway. All she had to do was get through one more final, and she could forget any of it had happened at all. It seemed perfectly plausible, perfectly doable, except for one minor hiccup. She was such a complete mess that she couldn’t ever fathom getting over Flynn.
It was this simple truth that stopped her from letting Luca press his lips to hers that day in his room.
He had been so close, his breath wafting over her lips when she pulled back, the hand fisted in his shirt now pushing him away firmly. She shook her head slowly, communicating that she couldn’t do this with all the energy she could muster. He still tried to lean in and that’s when the grip on his shirt tightened, her eyes hardening as he attempted yet again to override her wishes. Her chin was lifted to evade his lips, her mouth a firm line as she once again shook her head and pushed him away.
His eyes flickered over hers, processing something that he hadn’t bothered to notice before. She wondered if he could see it there in her eyes, if they were saying that she was miserable because his rival had broken her heart. But if he did know he didn’t say so. He sighed and turned away, ran his hands through his hair and bent over for a moment. She watched as he breathed in a deep sigh and stood with a groan, and a crack of his stiff knee.
“I’m sorry,” he said. Then he smiled weakly and held out his hand to her. “I’m ready to go now.”
She took it tentatively and followed him as he left his room and braved the crowd downstairs. Whether he understood that she was turning him down for good or not was inconsequential. He wasn’t going to get another opportunity to win her over.
Immediately after she halted his kiss, as soon as she headed back into the fray of mourners, she wondered why she fought so hard to be here. Why hadn’t she just said ‘okay’ and done what Flynn had asked? Sitting alone in her room she had to wonder if her pride had been worth it.
She knew now that it had as much to do with her fear of doing whatever her boyfriend wanted, kowtowing to his needs and neglecting her own, as it did with being there for someone she used to love. She still thought going to the funeral had been the right thing to do, but she knew now that the reason she fought Flynn so hard was because she was afraid of giving him everything and then being left alone when he moved.
It wouldn’t be the first time she poured her heart into someone only to have them let her down in favor of their own selfish motivations. Well, now it didn’t matter. She had already given him everything and he was done with her.
She sighed forcing herself to bury the melancholy threatening to unravel her. She was exhausted. She was d
“Who is it?”
“Are you naked!? Can I come in!?” Rosie’s voice called just before she barged in anyway.
“What the fuck, Rose!” she squealed squatting behind her bed to hide her naked lower half. Only her head was peaking out as her friend strolled in and then spun around.
“Sorry, I’m sorry! Lauren said you got back a little while ago,” Rosie said, referring to the other roommate. “I just ran over from Mike’s apartment. I told her to tell me when you got in because I needed to talk to you.”
“About what?” she asked, more than a little curious as she pulled on a pair of pajama shorts. Rosie had to have a good reason for being this excited.
“Are you dressed, can I turn around now?”
“Yeah.”
Rosie spun, her brown eyes wide and sparkling as she said, “Last night there was a huge, I’m talking huge fight! And guess who was fighting.”
Gia lifted an eyebrow and then both as Rosie nodded and willed Gia to see the answer in her eyes.
“No way!”
“Yes way! And just guess who won.”
Gia sat on the edge of the bed, shaking her head as she processed this new turn of events. Why would Luca and Flynn be fighting? Why were they even at the same party? Well that latter question was easy enough to answer. They had mutual friends even if they couldn’t stand each other. But the former question, that was a different matter. Why would either of them be fighting over her when neither was dating her anymore.
“Who started it?”
“Luca,” Rosie said, and the venom in her voice was undeniable. “I was on the porch, along with like fifty other people, trying to get Megan to calm down because some dude she let fuck her last week hadn’t called her back, when I saw Flynn come out to smoke. Well, who should happen to follow him out there other than Luca, right?
Gia was staring wide eyed and captivated as she watched the scene unfold in her mind.
“And, man, Luca…he just started spitting out the most disgusting things to Flynn, about how he was your first and how when Flynn headed off to L.A. he was going to…”
Gia was burning hot with anger just thinking about it as Rosie filled her in with all the sordid details. She was seriously considering pulling on some clothes and going to find Luca herself. She made a mental note to do just that before this week came to a close.
“…So, Luca’s heading down the steps, laughing like a fucking cartoon villain, and then all of sudden, girl, Flynn just leaps over the fence. The next thing I know, they’re on the ground and Flynn is beating the shit out of Luca, saying stuff like, ‘You think that’s funny!?’ or whatever. Just punching and punching, and he wasn’t going to stop.
It took four guys to pull him off. Max had to go and get Bobby and bring him outside so he could help. It was fucking insane!”
Gia was practically shaking. Her first thought, not surprisingly was about Flynn.
“Is he okay?”
Rosie lifted an eyebrow and said, “Who do you mean? Luca, or Flynn?”
Gia gave her look that said she wasn’t in the mood.
“Flynn’s fine, a little bruised up, but he looks like a million bucks compared to Luca. That son of a bitch…I can’t believe the shit that was coming out of his mouth. I never thought he could be so cruel.”
Gia hadn’t either, but it just served to reaffirm the rightness of her decision. She was well rid of Luca Caprielli if that’s what he thought was going down when Flynn hopped on that plane.
“Did the cops come? Is he going to press charges or anything?”
Rosie shook her head. “It was over so quickly. And Luca wouldn’t press charges, it’d make him look like a wimp. Which, I now know he is.” She came to sit down on the bed beside Gia and asked, “So, what now?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well…aren’t you going to rush over and talk to him? Thank him for defending your honor? Something?”
Gia bit her lip and looked down at her hands. Rosie’s excitement was immediately replaced by her motherly persona.
“You should go and talk to him, Gia. Whatever he said, whatever he did, he didn’t mean it. Not after the way he reacted to what Luca said.”
Gia shook her head, blinking rapidly. She’d grown quite seasoned at stopping her tears.
“He always means what he says. Flynn doesn’t lie about anything.”
“Sweetie, the guy almost turned homicidal for you. I think we can make an exception, just this once.”
Rosie rubbed Gia’s back, waiting to soothe away her tears, but they never
fell. Gia just sat shaking her head and biting her lip.
“No,” she said, and again, with more determination, “No.”
Rosie started to say something, and then stopped when Gia looked up. Her eyes were dark and sad, but they were adamant. She wasn’t going to talk to Flynn. She was going to chalk last night’s events up to Luca getting into Flynn’s space, to the animosity they shared for one another, and just erase herself from the picture.
She was going to let this week finally end, pack up her things, and let Flynn get on a plane without so much as a word. That was the only way she was going to be able to cope without bursting into a pool melancholy.
“Thanks for telling me, Rose. I appreciate it. But I need to get some sleep, okay?”
Rosie nodded and gave her hug. “Words lie, Gia, actions don’t. He still cares about you. You know that, don’t you?”
She pulled away and Rosie watched her swallow and blink even faster. She turned away just before the first tear fell.
“Night, Rosie,” she said in a trembling whisper, pulling down the covers so she could climb into bed. She snuggled in and pulled the covers up to ears, her body curled into a ball.
Rosie left the room, turning out the light and closing the door on Gia’s quiet, huddled form.
***
Flynn was lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. It hurt to breathe. It hurt to move. But more than that, it hurt to think. It had been a long day of aches and pains, of limping from one room to the next and fighting through it to study for finals. None of that compared to the fact that every time he grimaced from the pain, which was every time he moved, he was reminded of why he fought with Luca in the first place.
Gia…
It was because she wasn’t there, because he had driven her away, that this day was particularly painful. Sunday had been their day. He felt just how far away he was from her when he woke up on Bobby’s couch earlier that morning, hung-over and sore from last night’s brawl. It was a far cry from those quiet mornings spent with her, when he woke up to see her sleeping or waiting for him to wake. There hadn’t been enough of those moments. And now there never would be again.
He wanted so badly to close his eyes and fall asleep. Ever since he broke up with her he had been utterly exhausted but unable to sleep. He wasn’t an idiot. He knew that it was because he missed her so badly that his body was punishing him. But he couldn’t bring himself to call her, to seek her out.
The days rolled by and the cutting words he had spoken grew stronger and sharper, making him pause every time he thought of trying to talk to her. What would he say? What could he possibly do to fix the damage he had caused? His mind told him there was nothing he could do, that he let her go and that’s the way it should stay. So he shoved down the urge to go to her, more prepared to deal with sleepless nights than with the hatred that would be waiting in her eyes for him.
Gia rolled over onto her stomach for what had to be the thousandth time in a half an hour. She just couldn’t get comfortable enough to sleep. She sat up and beat a crater into the center of her pillow before letting herself flop over onto her back again. A few moments ago she’d been cold and now she was kicking off the covers as a rush of heat made her feel like she was suffocating. It had been hours, fucking hours, since Rosie told her about the fight and she still was alternating between angry restlessness and barely contained tears.
Why did she have to bring him up? If Rosie weren’t her best friend she would seriously consider hating her. The last thing she wanted to think about before trying to sleep was him. She already did that anyway, and it was why she couldn’t get any rest. He inhabited her thoughts, burrowed himself into her dreams, and there was no peace or happiness in that.
She turned onto her side, her hands clasped on the pillow in front of her face as she stared into the dark corners of her room. She tried, and failed miserably, to dodge thoughts of how lonely and painful this Sunday had been without him.
Flynn pushed himself up slowly, pain doing a tap dance over his hips, back and ribs. It was in sharp moments like this that he wondered why he had felt so bad about beating the shit out of Luca. He’d had enough injuries courtesy of his father to know that this was going to take a little bit of time to clear up. He ran his hands through his hair, staring at the clock and willing himself not to wonder what she was doing, who she was with as their day drew to a close. He couldn’t help but remember the way he used to spend his Sundays in bed, inside of her and never more happily exhausted.
He swallowed hard, sadness mingling with the beginnings of arousal. It was twisted to be thinking of her lying naked in his bed, under him, clasping him tightly within her body. But he couldn’t help it, couldn’t help but remember and feel that familiar craving course through him.
He could see her smile, his fingertips flexed as they recalled the softness of her hair. He could feel his body responding to how perfectly she fit in his arms when he held her tightly against him. He could hear her panting for him, her voice whispering his name into his ear and over his lips. He licked the bruised flesh gently, thinking for just a moment that he could taste her there.
She ran her knuckles and then her fingertips absently over her bottom lip. She didn’t realize it but, her fingers were drinking in the texture of her lips and the fact that this was the first Sunday in a while that her they weren’t swollen from tasting him. She stroked the full pink flesh, feeling the need to have them pressed up against tougher, firmer skin than her fingertips. She could still taste the soft curves of his mouth, the salt of his skin. Her eyes drifted closed as she imagined her mouth traveling over the black scorpion on his chest, down his stomach, and lower still.
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