by Jacie Lennon
I can’t do it.
I shouldn’t fucking be here. I should have stayed away, gone somewhere else. I shouldn’t be trying to fix the past, especially when she’s shown no sign of wanting it fixed.
Footsteps along the hallway have me glancing to the side. Someone is carrying a large spray of flowers, and I step back, letting them pass before I take off in the opposite direction. I push open the first double doors I come to; it’s an empty bedroom. I feel tight, like my skin is stretched too thin, not letting my chest rise and take air in. My nostrils flare, and I concentrate on sucking a deep breath in as I stride across the room, throwing open the window doors and stepping onto a balcony that overlooks the back garden.
Rich-people shit.
We have them too.
I wonder how many people step out their back doors and have huge gardens to look at. Do they have big pools with fountains that light up in different colors? Large seating areas and things that are tended by people they pay, whose names they probably don’t even know?
I don’t know. My thoughts are spinning, and I grip the banister, clenching my fingers and trying to get myself back on track.
I was wrong. My heart isn’t impenetrable. If I put myself back out there tonight and Trixie denies my feelings, I don’t know that I can recover. They call it a broken heart, but I don’t think that’s right. Something that’s broken can be put back together, but something that is shattered, obliterated, or decimated can’t be repaired.
I reach into my tux jacket and pull my cigarettes and lighter out, placing one in my mouth and cupping the flame. I finally breathe in, the smoke settling me. I glance down, watching the lights being strung up around the pool. Ones that will be lit up once the sun goes down in about an hour, right before the first guests start arriving. Or the second guests since I’m already here. I wasn’t invited by name on the Montgomery invitation, but it didn’t explicitly say I couldn’t come. So here I am.
“Those things will kill you,” she says behind me, and instantly, the hair on the back of my neck prickles.
I never get tired of hearing her voice. I do get tired of the wrong feelings it evokes in me. It’s why I generally avoid her at school.
“Says you and every other well-meaning person.” I turn, propping my elbows on the railing, and flick the end of my cigarette. I take her in—her shorter stature, her blonde hair, brown eyes, and plump lips that kill me from the outside in. “Something’s going to kill me one day. Might as well have fun in the meantime.”
She’s already dressed for the party. Hair immaculately curled, one side pulled back, like those fucking pinup girls.
She’s wearing a form-fitting white gown, dressed to kill, and I think I’m dying.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, staring at me from the doorway to the balcony, not daring to step closer.
“How did you find me?” I ask instead of answering.
She knows what I’m doing here.
“The bedroom door was open, and we generally keep it closed.”
We fall silent again. I watch as she takes me in. From the top of my head to the black patent leather shoes on my feet. Her gaze finds mine again, a little shinier.
“You look good.”
“Fuck, Trix. You look fucking phenomenal.”
She sucks in a breath, and I throw my cigarette down, stomping on it. She steps onto the balcony, one foot and then the other, and I close the distance so that we are about a foot apart. I don’t touch her. I don’t know if I could survive doing that.
“Why are you here, Bodhi?”
My name rolling off her lips is a song I haven’t heard in a while. It sends a sweet ache through my chest.
“I’m here to see you, Trix. Happy birthday.”
I decide now that I can’t go another moment without touching her, and I reach forward, grabbing her elbow lightly and sliding my fingers down her arm until I have her hand in my grasp. She squeezes, and I pull her closer.
“Thank you,” she whispers, staring up at me. “You can’t be here though.” She frowns, looking behind her.
The door to the bedroom is still open. I can see straight through to the hallway, and if someone passed by and looked in, they could see us standing here. I drag her to the side, away from the view of the door, and turn, leaning against the cool brick wall, pulling her into me.
“Why not? I was sort of invited.”
“Yes, to the party, not to the balcony of one of our guest rooms.”
“Will your parents be upset that I’m here?”
She worries her bottom lip, avoiding my eyes.
“Talk to me. You can’t ignore me forever.”
“Yes, I can.” Her voice turns flat, urgent, and I don’t like it.
“I won’t let you.”
“You have to let me. I’m not yours anymore, Bodhi, and you aren’t mine.”
“You were mine the day I laid eyes on you in Mrs. Pitts’s English class. Why don’t you understand that?” I fire back.
I can feel my chest squeezing again. Trixie’s face falls, and I have a pang of regret before I steel myself.
“Be honest with me for once since that damn day you tore us apart. What happened? Did I do something?”
“No. You didn’t do anything. But sometimes, our lives aren’t up to us.”
This fucking cryptic bullshit again.
“Are you in trouble? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is fucking wrong, Bodhi. I want you to leave.” She steps back, and I feel the loss of her like a bucket of cold water being poured over my head. She continues to move away from me, toward the edge of the balcony.
“No,” I say, following her, pressing against her until her back is touching the railing and her legs are between mine.
I can feel her chest rising and falling rapidly. Her mouth is open a little, letting her breaths gasp out. Her head is thrown back, staring up at me, and if I saw fear in her eyes, I would back up, but I don’t. I see longing and maybe even a hint of lust.
I bring my hand up, wrapping my fingers around the back of her neck and placing my thumb along her pulse, lightly rubbing there up and down. “No,” I repeat. “You don’t want me to leave. I came here for answers. And I’m going to get them.”
“I don’t have any answers for you, Bodhi.” Her hands come up, gripping the lapels on my tux, and her eyes lower, staring at my mouth.
I can’t hold back any longer. I dip my head, letting my lips cover hers. She tastes sweet, like I remember. The scent of her watermelon lip gloss assaults my nose, and I press harder. Her mouth opens, letting me in, and I sweep my tongue inside, battling her own as we feverishly try to consume each other with our lips and tongues.
Her grip tightens, and my thumb pushes down, feeling her pulse skitter. I wrap my hand further around her neck, the crease of my thumb and forefinger coming to land on her windpipe as I break the kiss and push her head back. Her eyes are closed as she obeys, letting her head tilt to the sky, and I dip, pressing a kiss to her chin and then below my hand, right in the hollow of her throat.
She moans.
My cock twitches, and I move further down, right on top of her breastbone, leaving a trail of kisses as I keep her pushed into the railing. Her hands release my jacket and fall to her sides as I step back, my hand still gripping her throat lightly, and I stare at her. I watch the way the evening sun dances across her skin, highlighting some sort of shimmer in her makeup, and she’s positively radiant. Delicious. A fucking dream. The light breeze makes her curls dance around her face, and I release her throat, sweeping a tendril of hair that escaped the pin back behind her ear.
“Fuck.” I forget myself, pushing one hand through my hair and mussing it from where I had it perfectly fixed. “I—”
“Don’t apologize,” Trixie says, cutting me off.
We stare at each other. I can feel it between us. The tension is palpable, and I want to scream and yell and make a scene until she gives me some sort of answer. I still don�
�t know where we stand, but I know that I want to taste her again, and that alone is making me crazy.
“I should go.” I move to step around her, unable to stand here any longer as we do this song and dance, tiptoeing around what’s going on and acting like we could be friends.
Her soft hand on my jacket sleeve has me stopping, staring down to look at the slim fingers resting against the black before I raise my head to look into her eyes.
“Please stay for a little while.”
17
Trixie
His eyes hold me in place where we stand, the ones I used to look into for hours on end as a freshman and the ones I’ve avoided looking into since that awful back-to-school party in Heywood. I went against everything I’d been told, asking him to stay, and now that the words are out, I don’t want to take them back. I want him to stay, and my entire body vibrates as I wait for his answer.
He reaches to cover my hand on his arm with his free palm, letting it rest lightly and warm the top of my skin before wrapping around and clenching my fingers between his own, pulling me into the bedroom. He releases me as quickly as he grabbed me, stalking across the room to shut the door with a bang.
“Shh,” I hiss, and he turns around, that damn smirk lifting one side of his mouth as he prowls back toward me.
“Don’t tell me to hush, Trix. Don’t tell me to do anything unless it’s to make you cry out in pleasure.”
He moves closer, and I want to back up, but I don’t. His presence is suffocating. It’s draining me and making me come alive all at once. My nipples perk up, rubbing against the material of my silky dress. I know he can see them since I’m not wearing a bra, but he doesn’t comment. His eyes dip for a moment before refocusing on my face.
He comes closer.
Closer.
Then, he stops right in front of me again. Like on the balcony. But this time, there’s a finality to it, not the desperation from before. He’s calm and controlled, and I feel wild and free. The door is shut and locked. My party isn’t for two more hours, and I’m with Bodhi Montgomery.
I reach to my side, finding the hidden zipper right beside my breast, and release the small clasp. Bodhi’s hand comes up, finding the pull, and starts to lower it, his eyes on mine. His knuckles drag along my skin, and my chest hitches, the breath unable to escape as a pressure builds inside me.
“Hurry,” I manage to croak out, but his smirk only widens.
“I’ve waited for this moment for years. I’m not hurrying a damn thing.”
His hand stops as the zipper comes to the end, and I feel his fingers creep into the inside of my dress, sliding around my back. It tickles and feels tantalizing at the same time.
I shrug the loose strap from my shoulder and watch his eyes fall to my exposed breast. His eyes widen for a fraction of a second and then close tightly as he lowers his head, nuzzling his nose right into the cleft of my chest. I hold the nape of his neck, my hand pushing into the strands of his hair, and let my head fall back as his tongue darts out to circle my nipple.
His free hand pushes down the other strap, and my slinky dress falls, pooling in a puddle at my feet, leaving me bare, in nothing else but my lacy thong and strappy heels.
Bodhi raises his head, pulling his hand back, and steps away from me as he looks me up and down.
“Everything you imagined?” I question, unable to take the silence any longer. I don’t want to stand here, fidgeting under his gaze.
“Better.” He swallows, and I can see his Adam’s apple bob. “Better than I ever fucking imagined.” He rubs at the side of his jaw for a moment and then steps forward. Picking me up from behind my thighs, wrapping my legs around his middle, he strides to the wall, setting me against it.
His mouth finds the base of my neck, and he nibbles, sucks, and licks at my skin while I squeeze his shoulders, tugging at his hair and losing my damn mind.
“Bodhi,” I say, and he doesn’t answer, doesn’t come up for air, as he continues attacking my skin with his mouth, like it’s what he wants most in the world. “Bodhi.” I put my hands on his cheeks, raising his head to look at me. “You still have all your clothes on.”
“You want me naked, Trix?”
“That’s kind of the idea.” I smile, and he chuckles before pressing his mouth to mine.
“Give me a moment. I’m exploring,” he says, dipping his head again.
The friction of the wall against my back doesn’t register, only the chills and tingles that are exploding out from each section of my skin his mouth touches.
When he finally lowers me, my legs are shaking. I feel like Jell-O, trying to balance on my heels, and he steadies me. His hands go to his belt, but I shake my head. I push his jacket from his shoulders, and he puts his arms back to let it fall.
“Let me.” I reach for his belt, undoing it and pulling it through the loops with a swift motion.
“Damn, that was hot.” He pulls me to him, and I brush his suspender straps down from his shoulders.
I wrestle with his pants button and zipper, finally getting both undone and pushing his pants down. He gives a little shake to make them fall while I giggle.
“Trix, you’ll give me a complex. Don’t laugh at a naked man.”
“You aren’t naked. That’s why I’m laughing.”
I look at him in his proper white button-down and black bow tie, his pants pushed to his knees, suspenders hanging loose, and tight boxer briefs on display. But I suck in a breath, the smile melting from my face when I see his dick straining against said briefs.
“Like what you see?” he asks, and my eyes shoot to his.
His infuriating and so fucking sexy smile cuts right through me, and I feel tears welling in my eyes. I blink rapidly and look away.
“Fuck, fuck. What’s wrong?” He tries to step toward me and gets caught by his pants, causing him to shuffle-jump, and I snort-laugh at him through my tears. He bends and pulls his pants back up, buttoning them and walking toward me.
I feel like an idiot, standing here, crying in a thong and heels. He must think I’m crazy. But I’m not. I’m heartbroken. I’m crying over what could have been. I’m crying over what’s about to happen. And I’m crying for what won’t ever be.
Bodhi and Trixie.
Bo and Trix.
Over before we even got started.
“Hey, look at me.” He cradles my face in his palms, running his thumbs down my cheeks. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” I say, trying to shake my head but he’s holding me still. I sniffle.
“Shit. Um—” Bodhi glances off for a second and then looks back at me. “Is this, uh—I mean—”
I continue to look at Bodhi, not knowing him for being at a loss for words.
“Fuck. Are you a virgin, Trix?”
“What?” I didn’t expect that question.
“You know … have you ever—”
“I know what virgin means, Bodhi.” I wish I could tell him yes, that I saved myself for him. But I can’t. Because I didn’t. And I won’t tell him it was Seth who had me first. I know Bodhi’s not innocent. I straighten myself a little and look him directly in the eyes. “I’m not a virgin.”
No reaction. Not one. His face stays blank. Not even a twitch. It’s not the reaction I was expecting, but it’s the one I got.
“Okay. Then, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Let’s do this,” I say, gesturing between us.
“Trixie, I’m not doing a damn thing until you tell me what’s wrong.”
“Do you remember the first time you came home with me? And we stood in my bedroom. I watched you walk around and look at pieces of my life. I was terrified.”
“I remember.” He reaches between us, tucking a nonexistent hair behind my ear as I stare up at him. “Are you terrified again?”
“No. I’m the opposite. This feels like coming home to me. You feel like home to me, Bodhi, and I’m crying because I can’t feel that way.”
“Why can’
t you feel this way? Talk to me. Give me something to go on, damn it, Trixie.” He groans, stepping back and shaking his head. He pushes one hand through his hair, mussing it, and then looks back at me with wild eyes.
“That moment in my bedroom was the first time I thought I might love you, Bodhi.”
He sucks in a breath.
“And it was scary, but it was also the most freeing feeling. I remember my chest hurting.”
“I thought you were scared of me.”
“I was scared of the way I felt.”
“How do you feel now?” He stands in front of me again, his chest rising and falling with erratic breaths.
I step forward, running my hands up his chest. “I am in love with you, Bodhi, but I can’t love you forever. It’s a childish obsession, a fleeting fancy, and we have to let it go.”
He doesn’t say anything. I think he can see it in my eyes. I think he realizes that the past few years haven’t been a waiting game. They’ve always been the endgame.
I watch as a lone tear sneaks out the side of his eye, and I reach up, brushing it away when he makes no move to.
“Be with me tonight?” I hold out a hand, and he puts his in mine.
I walk to the bed, climbing on top of it. There’s a part of me that’s glad we aren’t in my room. I don’t think I could hold this memory in there and live the rest of my life without breaking apart.
Bodhi
She looks fucking beautiful, spread out on the bed, each inch of delicious skin on display for me to see, touch, taste, and explore.
I reach and start to loosen the bow tie at my neck. I grab my wallet from my tux coat and extract a condom before dropping the jacket back on the floor. After I fling the condom and watch it land on the bed next to her, my fingers creep down the front of my shirt, undoing buttons, all while I keep my eyes on Trixie. Her gaze tracks my progress, the tip of her tongue darting out to wet her lips. Her legs open a little wider, and I look, her tiny lace thong not hiding much.
I push our conversation out of my mind. I don’t want to believe her, but what can I do? If she says it has to be over, I will let her go. I have to let her go. We have to move on at some point. I’ve lived every year since the summer after freshman year with a little glimmer of hope that we would work things out, but it seems she’s made up her mind. So, I’m going to have my fill of everything I can right now and hope to have this memory for the future. One that looks bleak without Trixie in it.
