"Why don't you just use the front door?" I roll my eyes, rising out of bed in nothing but my boxer briefs.
After setting my phone back on the nightstand, I grab her hand to keep her from falling face first again as she climbs inside.
"It's not like I have parents that are going to ground me."
She gives me a bleak look then jumps down off of the ledge. "I know, but this makes both our lives seem more normal. You know, typical teenager sneaking in her boyfriend’s window after his parents tell him to go to bed."
The word boyfriend in that whole scenario is highlighted like a neon sign with sirens going off in every direction; so much for our agreement to keep this at a friend level.
"I thought we agreed to be friends." I sigh, slouching back down into my bed.
She falls onto the mattress beside me and blows out an exaggerated breath. "It was just a joke of what normal non-parentless teenagers may be doing, not an assumption of what was going on between us." She lies back on my bed, throwing her arms out to her sides. "Are you going to kick me to the curb?" she asks in a bland tone, looking up at my ceiling.
I scoot sideways to position myself better so I am not straining to look at her face.
"No. It's been a bad week and honestly I could use some company right now."
Sitting up quickly, she looks me in the eyes. "Can I borrow one of your t-shirts?"
"Yeah, they’re still in the second drawer." I point at my dresser not wanting her to grab any of my shirts in the third drawer; that's where I put the one that Alyssa wore on the dock.
Tiffany quickly shuffles out of her clothes and slips on my shirt. I browse on my phone while she changes with my back turned to her. As soon as the bed dips with her weight, I flip over gladly, unable to support my body on my right side for very long. The lights from the streets cast shadows all across my room and I can barely make out her clothes in a pile on the floor with her bra and panties at the top of the heap. Just friends, huh?
"Do your foster parents ever wonder where you are at all hours of the night? I mean they have to worry about you."
Her head tilts back with our faces only a short distance apart.
"They don't care. They already told me that I need to start looking for my own place since I'm eighteen now."
Her mention of her birthday reminds me that I have one coming up the beginning of next month. That in turn makes me think of Alyssa. Both our birthdays are in September, mine at the beginning of the month and hers at the end.
Tiffany scoots closer, her arms sliding over my waist and instantly making me tense up.
“Hey, this isn’t really a good idea. I am kind of hung up on …” No sooner than I start to tell her about Alyssa, I’m hit with a sweet breeze of strawberries in the air as Tiffany nuzzles into my chest. "Are you using a different shampoo?" I whisper with my pulse racing.
"Hmmm...oh no, it's this new strawberry-honeysuckle lotion. Do you like it?"
I barely register Tiffany's voice as I bend my head down and breathe in the aroma. Closing my eyes tight, I caress my lips over the skin on her forehead just to feel its softness. Instantly seeing an array of shiny blonde hair, I allow myself to slide my hand across Tiffany's waist, gently tugging the shirt up over her hip so I can feel her skin more. God, I miss her.
With my eyes still closed, I imagine Alyssa lying in front of me, turning her head so that her lips can meet mine. Warmth floods my mouth and my tongue goes into overdrive, needing and wanting to taste all of her. Where is the whimper, that sweet moan that always escapes her mouth when I kiss her deeply?
Opening my eyes, Tiffany is against me with her right leg drawn up over my hip. Her pelvis rubs against me and her hands run up my chest and into my hair pulling me closer. It feels good, but it doesn't feel right. I should stop; I need to stop now, but my heart hammers from the memory of Alyssa and the ache in my heart lessens with each wave of nostalgia.
I close my eyes again, wishing desperately for Alyssa to be right here again, even if it isn't real. She wiggles and worms against me as my hands glide up over the curves of her body. Grazing my fingertips beneath the loose-fitted shirt, I caress her skin inching up further and further until I hear her moan. That's not the sound I wanted to hear at all. I close my eyes tighter, fighting the inner voice that is yelling, “Stop … this isn’t right.”
"Get these off."
Tiffany slides her hands under the covers, tugging and pulling my briefs until they are down past my ankles and I let her with a knot in my gut, but the drum of my heart overpowering any sense of reason that I can pull up. I open my eyes for a second, but have to immediately close them back before flipping onto my back. Alyssa fills my mind, her hair flowing around her shoulders as her legs graze my hips. My eyes trail up her body as I suck in a savory breath of strawberries.
"Alyssa," I whisper, ready to feel her.
My fingertips run across her hips and I grab ahold of her gently, yet firmly with a sudden eagerness. Pressing my head back, another whimper fills the silent room and my eyes fly open.
"Wait! I can't do this!"
I look down at our bodies, a storm of relief blazing through my conscience when I see that we didn’t get that far. My fingertips sink into the soft flesh of her hips in an effort to hold her firmly in place so she doesn’t move around and make this any harder on me, literally.
“A part of me wants to, but I shouldn’t because it isn't right. I have been so adamant about us just being friends and here we are falling into the same routine as before," I say squeezing my eyes shut. I’m such an asshole. "The truth is I love someone else." I look at her and instantly see the hurt welling up in her eyes.
I take a deep breath as she shifts her body back to sit on the top of my thighs.
"This is going to make me sound like such a jerk and I'm sorry, but when I kiss you, when I touch you and when you touch me, all I see is her face.” My heart pounds rapidly with each word, because I know Alyssa has moved on, yet I’m not ready to. I go on, not that she wants to know this but more because I need to say it, “… when my hands run down your body, I feel her skin not yours. I smell her skin. All that is on my mind is her and the whole time I'm wanting her … not you and that is not fair to you.” I gulp down a massive ball of hurt, anxiety and guilt and continue more for my own benefit, “No matter how crappy she did me, she owns my heart. I’m still in love with her and that is not fair to you."
No tears are shed as Tiffany looks at me with a deep, profound look like she understands. Gently leaning forward, her lips barely graze mine in a sweet and completely honest sense of care and compassion before sliding onto the mattress beside me.
"Are you mad?" I ask, afraid that she may unleash Niagara Falls with this question.
"No," she says weakly and unconvincingly then turns to look at me.
I slide onto my side, completely unable to read her. Using my good arm, I wedge my head up above the pillow, waiting.
"Really?" I’m stunned and not sure whether I can believe her.
"Is that so hard to believe?" She laughs and flips onto her side only a foot away from me, both of us still damn near bare.
Running her finger down my chest and stopping just below my sternum, she gives me a content, peaceful look.
"I'm glad you found that. I want you, Judd, but most of all I want you to be happy. I want both of us to be happy. I think we both deserve to find that, don’t you?” For a second it seems like my comment to her from the night of my graduation party; maybe it did sink in. “I just hope this girl appreciates what she has.”
I pull her into my arms for a hug, hoping her words are real and that my naked hug doesn't send mixed signals.
"Thank you for saying that. You mean so much to me, Tiffany. I care about you; I really do."
She leans away and smiles. “So you wanna talk about it?”
Letting my fingertips glide across her cheek, I realize just how much I miss Alyssa, just how much I wish this was her. A sharp, piercin
g pain echoes through my heart with that thought and so I decide to talk. I keep most of our time together to myself, but I talk to her in a way I can’t talk to my brothers or Evan. I can actually tell her how Alyssa made me feel; I can explain my heart without fear of future harassment about me being whipped. Tiffany listens all night, just like a friend.
The next morning, I sneak out of bed quietly, letting her sleep in. It’s weird waking up with a warm body beside me that is not Alyssa; that’s probably why I faced the wall with my back to her most of the night. Last thing I want is to fall into a deep sleep with hot and heavy dreams of Alyssa then mistake Tiffany for her. The vivid dreams that I’ve experienced lately tend to wake me to a full on pup-tent.
Once I’m dressed, teeth brushed and ready, I race off to class. My first class goes relatively smooth and I make it around campus with no trouble. After my second and third class, my shoulder becomes a lead weight and it’s painfully clear that parts of my body may not be completely 100% yet. As soon as the professor excuses us in my last class of the day, I dart out and head for my truck, shooting Evan a text in the process.
Me: You out of class yet?
I continue on my route to the parking lot, still clutching the phone in my hand at my side. Usually Evan texts right back like he spends his days staring at his phone waiting for messages, but not this time.
“Hey, wait up,” a girl yells not far behind me.
I look around at all the bodies rushing to and from class.
“Hey hot pants,” the same voice yells out a little louder. My eyes widen and I snicker at her choice of words. They are definitely not calling for me. Glancing over my shoulder to see this supposed ‘hot pants,’ a short, blonde-haired girl showing a whole lot of skin is practically on my heels.
“Wait up,” the same voice calls out, looking right at me.
Is she talking to me? Hot pants … what the hell?
Mid step, I halt all movements when a hand tugs at the back of my shirt. Lowering my eyebrows in a frown, I spin around and face her.
“It’s about time. I’ve been chasing you clear across campus,” she giggles, squeezing a book to her chest and spilling right out of her low cut shirt in the process. “I’m Bethany. I was sitting a couple seats over from you in English 101.”
I offer her a half-hearted smile, pondering over what she yelled to get me to stop.
“Hot pants?” My eyebrows shoot up as she stares at me not the least bit intimidated by my question.
“Well, it was the only view I had.” She bites down on her lip and casts her eyes down my body and back up to my face. “It was either that or ‘hey, green shirt’, and that just didn’t sound very original. Besides, from where I was standing hot pants seemed to fit the bill.”
I don’t think this girl has ever read up on playing hard to get.
“Is that right?” I laugh, opening my mouth to introduce myself when Evan’s voice stops me.
“Holy shit, you are not going to believe who was in my first class,” he says, looking down at his phone as he rushes up. Tilting his head back up, he stops and drops his hand to his side. “Oh, hey,” his normal cocky smile emerges as he turns to face me. “… and who’s this?” Wiggling his eyebrows, he shoots me a smirk that shows his approval of the blonde.
“Oh, this is Bethany.” I point over at the girl just as a chime sounds on her phone.
Glancing at her phone quickly, she shoves it into the bag at her shoulder along with the book she is carrying.
“I’m sorry. I have to go. I forgot I’m meeting my roommate for a late lunch. I’ll see you in class though.” She turns to leave, but suddenly turns and races over, pulling my hand into hers. “I work at Aftershock Bar and Grill downtown. You should come down sometime and see me, or...” she draws out her last word as her ink pen digs into the palm of my hand, making me grit my teeth.
The sensation reminds me of the wreck, making my pulse race with the thoughts of shards of glass tearing through my skin. If only this girl knew what I went through less than two months ago, maybe she would have chosen the soft edge of a marker to doodle on my hand.
“… you could just give me a call.”
Slapping the lid on her pen, she steps backwards swaying her hips in an exaggerated effort and keeping her eyes locked on me. I really want to laugh at her bluntness, but in a way her confidence is attractive. As she spins around and races away, Evan lets out a low whistle, still keeping his eyes in the direction that she ran. His hand slams into my back, knocking me forward a bit.
“Look at you … Judd the Stud!” he belts out on a laugh, reminding me that the first number ever pressed into my hand is what landed me that nickname.
I glare at him through the corner of my eye, a bit amused as my feet stomp down grass on the way to my truck.
“Come on … what’s with all the blondes coming out of the woodwork and giving you their numbers. That shit never happens to me. It’s like you have some sort of wounded puppy syndrome that their sensitivity satellite is tuning into.”
“Good choice of words,” I snap. “It’s like the universe is hell bent on reminding me of her.”
I squint and finally spot my truck a few yards away buried in a mass of cars burning cement to get off campus.
“Whatever …” Evan challenges me, clearly annoyed by my ongoing hang-up with Alyssa. “You need to move on and speaking of blondes …”
I look over at him again with an expression that urges him to back off, but this is Evan; he says what is on his mind.
“Yes, I said blonde.”
It’s as if he’s childishly shouting, “Nana-nana-boo-boo.”
“So what I was saying earlier, guess who was in my first class.” I open my mouth to throw out a guess but he won’t shut up. “Guess, just guess.” I cock my head to the side and laugh at his excitement. “Ok, you’re never going to guess … little-miss-stripper-sponge-bath nurse and one of her hot nurse buddies.”
“Candy?” I say, pulling my truck door open and sliding into the seat.
Evan scoots into the passenger side, immediately reaching for the stereo as I fire up the engine.
“Oh yeah, you know who I’m talking about,” I don’t even bother to look over at him as I steer out of the parking lot and onto Main Boulevard. Without a doubt, he is sporting that lame ass crooked grin he has when he has already roped me into something I’m not going to be too happy about.
“So apparently the brunette is in to me, and well … Candy must not have gotten enough out of those sponge baths, because she is begging for more.” Snickering, he slaps his hands together and rubs them like he is trying to start a fire. “So this Friday, we are going out. You, Candy, me and … Lauren. There is nothing you can say; you’re not getting out of this. I need this and you need this.”
I glance over and take a deep breath, reminding myself … Breathe.
He goes on before I can get a word in, “Man, you need to move on. It was two weeks.” Immediately shooting him a look with my eyebrows dipped down into a frown, he holds his hands up. “I know she meant a lot to you and made you feel all kinds of sappy and lovey-dovey and all that other sentimental bullshit, but she screwed you over … it is time to move on.”
My mind tumbles every syllable of his pep talk around until all I can do is agree to go Friday night. I’ll just hold on for the ride and hope for a miracle. It is time to move on.
THE FIRST WEEK OF college flies by and although it isn’t what I’ve dreamed of or imaged, I am fully determined and motivated to make this a good year. My past has always seemed to rule my future and hold me back, but not anymore, starting with tonight’s date.
Evan arranged the whole night with the girls, so I am at their mercy. With a knot in my stomach and a ball of nerves, we walk into the theater ready to meet them; at least Evan is. The whole way over he was bouncing off the walls about “what could happen” this evening.
“Hey,” I say, gulping down all my nervousness as we walk up to the girls.<
br />
“Hey you,” Candy says sweetly, smiling with a soft, delicate expression in her features. “How is your shoulder?” Her hands run over my bicep up to the sleeve of my shirt.
I stare at her hand, watching the gentle way she touches me.
“It’s good,” I breathe out, my insides shaking like a damn leaf as if I’ve never been alone with a girl. I was never like this with Alyssa, was I? I miss the easiness of being with her.
“Good. Well as much as I enjoyed waiting on you hand-and-foot, I’m glad you’re on the mend,” she quietly laughs, hiding her mouth behind her hand.
Watching how her dark blue, almost steel gray eyes sparkle and how the sides of her face crease with her smile, I can’t help but grin from how sweet and equally nervous she seems.
“Ok, so you guys ready?” Evan’s voice breaks through my thoughts and motions for us all to head inside the theater. “Let’s go.”
After the girls take a quick trip to the bathroom and after Evan ropes me into joining him to get snacks, we settle in our seats, sitting boy, girl, girl, boy. The lights go down and the boom of the speaker rises around us, drowning out the chaos and excitement of all the movie watchers. I sigh, ready to get it going and sink myself into something other than worry about what comes next.
Fifteen minutes into the movie, her arm grazes mine as she positions her hand face up on the armrest next to mine. I stare down at it, analyzing it more than I should. She’s cute, she seems sweet and she’s obviously attracted to me. I go over Evan’s words once more, you need to move on. She has.
Moving my hand just a fraction of an inch, I let my fingers slide between hers while nervously sitting up straight in my seat, unable to move anything else on my body. The texture of her skin is soft yet it’s rougher than Alyssa’s was, a different texture; just different. She immediately responds to my gesture of affection by gripping my hand in hers, but her movements are tense and unsure. With Alyssa it was always simple; she moved, I moved.
Catch My Breath Page 23
