Falling for a Bentley

by Adriana Law

  I blink, staring up at him. “What happened between you two?”

  He collapses into the chair, runs a hand through his dirty blonde hair, before grabbing hold of my chair angling it to face him. My knees fit between his legs. He laces our fingers together placing our hands on his knees, his expression more serious than I’ve ever seen it. “Whatever she said she’s lying. She’s miserable and wants you to be just as miserable. Can’t you see that?” Lines appear between his brows “I’ve been thinking a lot about the way I’ve been treating you: always picking around with Keria. It’s wrong. You’ve got to believe me when I say I never meant anything by it. I never stopped to think how it made you feel, even when you brought it to my attention. I get it now. I can’t stand to see you talking to Stevens and I sure as hell wouldn’t understand you two being friends.”

  “Colton, if you like Keria just say so. I think I will survive.”

  I mean it. More than I’ve ever meant anything in my life.

  I. will. Be. Okay. Without. Colton. His expression darkens and then softens. I don’t know what I want him to say. Maybe somewhere deep down I want him to end it for both of us. It isn’t easy, being the one to call it quits on a relationship you’ve invested so much time in, hurting someone you once cared about.

  Goodbyes are never easy.

  He focuses on our hands fitted together for the longest time, his shoulders slumped. I can see he is conflicted. He draws a breath and exhales it, his eyes rising to mine.

  “But I might not survive, Tor.” His eyes seem clearer than they’ve been in a while, determined. “I think I’ve always liked the idea of her more than anything.” My stomach drops hearing him finally acknowledge he’s at least thought about it. So I’m not crazy. It’s not all in my head. There has been something there all along.

  He tips my chin up. “Hey. Don’t get angry at me for being honest. I’m trying to come clean with you. I need you to know that when it comes to being with someone, sharing stuff, personal stuff, you’re the girl for that. Not Keria. You listen. It’s not always about you. You don’t suck the life out of me. I’d be a fool to fuck that up. I guess what I’m saying is… I’m ready to stop all the bullshit and be one hundred percent committed to our relationship. No more flirting around. No more taking you for granted. No more hurting you.” He lifts one of our joined hands pressing the top of my hand to his lips, offering me an easy smile around the kiss. “We’ve got a good thing going here. Something worth saving, don’t you agree?”

  I slip my hand from his and slide my chair backwards for some space, my body trembling. “I need time to process everything you’re saying.”

  You don’t suck the life out of me. What does that mean?

  The clarity in his eyes vanishes and he nervously looks about appearing unsure of what to do with his empty hands. He leans forward, planting his elbows on his legs, his face buried in his open hands.

  “I’ve already fucked it up, haven’t I?”

  Is he crying? I can’t handle actual tears. Not now. I lift a hand, hesitating mid-air but then finally placing my hand on his bent head and he comes out of the chair, going down on his knees in front of me, his arms circling my waist. He squeezes tight, so tight it’s hard for me to breathe. He cries into the belly of my shirt.

  “You haven’t messed anything up,” I whisper.

  Lifting the hem of my shirt his presses feather light kisses across my stomach, causing me to hold my breath.

  “You mean it. You’ve been acting so weird lately. I thought…” He rises up covering my mouth with his, his kiss urgent and desperate. “It doesn’t matter what I thought. You still owe me a movie, Ms. Anderson.” He grins against my lips.

  “I did promise you a movie alone, didn’t I?”

  Before I have time to think he lifts me and tosses me over his left shoulder, heading for the basement stairs. My palms slide along the walls on the way down. It’s been a long time since he’s been this Colton, the Colton that was my friend before he was anything else.

  This can still work right?

  It has to work.

  I’ll make it work.

  An hour later I doubt his sincerity and my decision. We’ve been making out for over thirty minutes on his couch, when I call for a cooling down period. I can’t get the hurt look on Keria’s face earlier out of my head. Something is off. I keep replaying everything he said earlier and every time the word tease screams red flag. As if I haven’t already had enough of those. My life is full of red flags.

  Supporting his weight with his arms, he glares down at me. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes. I need room to breathe.” And think.

  He exhales a frustrated breath, crashing down on his side of the couch. He props his feet up on the coffee table, aims the controller at the big screen TV.

  I work on hooking my bra back, righting my shirt, and fastening my shorts. “I’m sorry, Colton. Are you mad?”

  Stupid question. Of course he’s mad. He’s always mad when I say no.

  He clenches his jaw, flips through the channels. “Nah. It’s all good.”

  “Don’t do that. Talk to me,” I urge, digging my toes into his muscled thigh. I know he hates it. It’s the only sure thing to make him talk.

  “Stop with the toe thing! What do you want me to say, Tori? That I understand why you won’t have sex with me? Because I don’t … I don’t get your damn logic. We’ve been dating for a year. I think I’ve been pretty patient. Most guys wouldn’t put up with your bullshit.”

  I sit up and tuck my legs under my bottom, staring at his side profile. “Have you forgotten how weird it has been between us lately?”

  “Have you ever thought maybe this is exactly why it’s been so weird?” He doesn’t even look at me when he says it. It’s as if the television is memorizing, and I’m not.

  Ugh. My insides are all knotted. I could scream. “Are you saying we are close to breaking up because I won’t have sex with you?”

  “All I’m saying is we’d be a hell of a lot closer if we had sex like a normal couple.”

  “So, you think sex would fix everything?”

  “I didn’t say that. Don’t go switching my words around. I just don’t get why you insist on making things so damn difficult.”

  Honestly, I don’t have an answer. Do I really need to explain why it hasn’t ever happened? I’m not ready. Isn’t that good enough? Apparently not.

  “Maybe we should take a break,” rushes out of my mouth. There. I said it. What I’ve been thinking for weeks.

  “What? No.” He cuts his eyes my way, frowns, slides over next to me, and starts kissing my neck. “You know what, forget I said anything. It’s not a big deal. We have time. Shit, it’s your fault for making me want you so bad, Tori.” His mouth moves along my jaw up to my mouth, his weight shifting, until I can feel him pushing me back down. “You’re driving me insane here. You smell so damn good. Taste so good….” His cell goes off. He pauses long enough to check to see who it is, and just like that his face transforms into the buddy-mode crashing back down on his side of the couch. I blink, stunned. Nothing has changed.

  “Perfect timing, you piece of shit,” He says into his cell phone. He mouths, “It’s Duncan” and rolls his eyes for my benefit. Like I wouldn’t recognize that annoying loud laughter anywhere.

  “Did I interrupt something?” Whooping and hollering comes through in the background.

  “Don’t you always?”

  “Yeah, well, put your little dick back in your pants and get your ass over here.”

  “Can’t. Me and Tori are hanging out.”

  “Fuck, did y’all hear that? The bone crusher is turning into a whiny ass bitch.” Duncan yells to whoever is at his house. There’s laughter in the back ground. “They said grow some balls and tell her it’s bro’s before hoes, now, you coming or what?”

  Colton gets up from the couch. He shoves a hand through his hair sparing one single glance in my direction, his voice lowers, “Dude,
give me fifteen minutes. I’ll see what I can do.”

  “All right you fucking sissy, see you when you remove your head from Tori’s ass!” Duncan yells his deep voice rumbling with laughter.

  “You can go,” I say. He eyes me with an are-you-sure look. “Really.,” I confirmed. “I want you to go.”

  Used

  Jonah

  The house smells like cat piss and nicotine. It always does. I do my best to ignore it. I know how easily this could’ve been my life: no stable man around, an alcoholic mother, no food in the house, nasty parasite-free-loaders sniffing around my mother all the time.

  “Keria will be out in a minute.” Mrs. McKinley glossy collagen filled lips curl. It’s one of those smiles that make a guy feel really uncomfortable. I shift legs where I’m standing, work on the kink along the back of my neck, not sure if I should sit or stand.

  “Have a seat.” She balances her short jean skirt on the arm of the broken-down sofa. Her long legs are covered in sheer black hoses making the skirt look more trashing riding up on her hips. She taps out a slim cigarette and lights up, smoke rolling out of both her nostrils. “I’m not going to bite, Jonah, you can sit next to me.”

  I sink into the couch, leaning forward on the edge, elbows on my knees not wanting to get too comfortable anywhere near Keria’s mother.

  “You and my baby have a date?”

  “Keria called needing help. Homework I think.”

  Bleach blond hair falls forward over her hunched shoulders, the dry tips getting caught in the massive amount of cleavage that’s pushed up in the tank she’s wearing as she snubs out the cigarette in the ashtray on the coffee table. First time you meet Ms. McKinley you automatically assume she is ten years younger than she actually is. Second time the wrinkles and flabby skin along her arms and neck tell her real age. You can tell she was once an attractive woman until life beat her down. Until men beat her down.

  “Yeah homework, riight,” she winks, “I get it, you two kids be careful.” She elbows my shoulder, staring down at me from where she’s perched on the arm of the couch. “We don’t want her getting pregnant, do we?”

  I choke, hiding my coughing and struggling to swallow normally with a fist. What do you say to that? She makes me uncomfortable as hell. I get the impression that telling her the truth, how I have no interest in her daughter other than friendship would disappoint her. Keria is an attractive girl. I really don’t think Ms. McKinley needs to try so hard to pawn her daughter off on a guy. Maybe I should tell her.

  Ms. McKinley nudges me over and squeezes her thin frame down in the narrow space between me and the end of the couch. She leans in, her glossy lips near my ear, her cleavage pressed against my side; she winks, placing a gentle hand on my leg, long red nails curling into the flesh. I straighten my back into the cushions of the couch dying for the extra space it gives me to breathe. My heart jacks up a beat. I divert my gaze to anything besides her hand, which seems to be crawling up. My mom has a bad habit of kissing me on my cheek; she’s very huggy-feely in the motherly sort-of-way. How Mrs. McKinley is touching me does not feel motherly. All I know is I wish Keria would hurry the hell up. I clear my throat. “How are you? My mother wanted me to ask you for her.”

  “I’m all right.” She smiles. “I have good days and bad days, you know how it is. My daughter is lucky to have a friend like you, Jonah. Am I making you nervous?” She purrs as her hand moves toward the inside of my thigh. Any higher and this will get real awkward.

  “I have a suggestion,” she announces.

  My gaze meets hers, my voice coming out a little high-pitched. “Oh yeah, what’s your suggestion?”

  “Flowers.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Bring her flowers.” Her hand leaves my leg, settling in her own lap. She works her fingers, cracking knuckles. Her pale blue eyes glisten behind all the smoky black liner and her voice cracks, “I’ve dated a lot of men, men I thought were pretty amazing and not a single one has ever brought me flowers. Why do you think they never bring me flowers, Jonah?” I open my mouth not really knowing what to say. I feel sorry for her. She saves me from having to answer, by continuing. “I mean, I always do what they ask. Always. I treat them right. Give them what they want. Anyways,” she smooth’s the wrinkles out of her skirt staring into her lap, “my baby girl deserves flowers, so I don’t care if you have to steal them from someone’s yard you bring her some, okay?”

  I swallow hard, uncomfortable for new reasons now. I find myself making promises I’ll never keep. “Okay. I’ll bring her flowers.”

  Keria’s bedroom door opens. “There you are.” Her gaze settles on me and then her mother, her hands flying to her hips. “Is that my jean skirt?”

  Mrs. McKinley stands up, turns in a complete circle, hands out like she’s modeling. “The extra five pounds I lost has done wonders. The skirt looks pretty awesome on me, doesn’t it? What you think Jonah, shocked to see an old lady look so damn hot?”

  Keira grabs hold of my arm, dragging me toward her room, her attention fixated on her mother. “Stop hitting on him and stop wearing my clothes!” Once we’re both safely in her room she slams her bedroom door with enough force to shake the glass in the windows.

  “Ugh, can you believe her!” She presses the heels of her hands to her eyes; my guess is to keep from crying. “It’s so embarrassing! Now you see why I never invite anyone over here. What did she say to you?”

  I sit down on the edge of her bed fiddling with a brass key on my ring, not really sure what to say. “She said to be nice to you.”

  Keria comes over, sighs and drops down beside me. “You’re lying.”

  “No I’m not. Really. That’s what she said.” In a roundabout way.

  “You just don’t want to tell me what she really said. Gah. I hate her so much!” She sniffs a couple of times looking in the opposite direction. I am way out of my element here. Being a friend is all good, but what this family needs most is a really good shrink.

  What would my mother say? I nudge Keria’s side with my elbow. “You shouldn’t say that about your mother. She loves you. More than you think.”

  “Whatever.” Keria scoots across the bed until her back is pressed against the headboard. She pats the space next to her. “Come sit beside me.”

  “Keria—”

  “I know, you told me. We’re friends. Something happened yesterday and I really need to tell someone.”

  “Why can’t you talk to Tori about it?”

  “I can’t. It’s about her.”

  “What do you mean … it’s about her?”

  “It’s something Colton did yesterday and I can’t tell her. I need advice … advice from someone I can trust.”

  I hesitate, but my curiosity has me going around to the side of the bed and sitting down next to her, one leg stretched out on the mattress, the other bent my foot resting on the floor.

  “Okay. I’m listening.”

  She buries her face in her hands. “He kissed me, Jonah! He tried to force me to do more, but someone walked in.”

  I catch the glimpse of a bruise peeking out from under her short sleeves. Reaching out I push up the fabric to see the purplish bruises in the shape of finger prints.

  “He hurt you?”

  “It doesn’t matter. He swore it’s never going to happen again.”

  “And you believe him?” I snap.

  It’s like someone has flipped a switch and all of a sudden I’m seething angry. My chest is tight and my pulse is racing and I have this incredible urge to hit someone, someone named Colton Bentley.

  What’s confusing is why I want to hit him. It has nothing to do with Victoria Anderson and everything to do with my friend. Keria is never innocent in anything she does. I’m not blind. She brings on a lot of the shit that happens to her. But no girl deserves this. It only takes one second inside her home to see that she hasn’t exactly had the best example. To her it’s perfectly natural for a guy to behave this way. To him she’s
an easy target because her expectations are already low.

  “You want advice?” I growl at her. “Go to the police. I’ll go with you.”

  “What? NO!” she squeals in a panic. I can see she’s not going to give on that one. Her mind is set on protecting the asshole.

  “Okay, then you should at least tell Tori. She deserves to know.”

  “No! No! No! God, don’t make me regret telling you!” She grabs hold of one of my biceps, her manicured nails nicking the flesh. “She can’t find out! Nobody can! Promise me you’re not going to tell anybody, swear Jonah!”

  I scrub my face with my hands. “Keria, you have to tell your cousin that her boyfriend is a scumbag.”

  “He would never admit to what happened. Nobody would believe me and then I’d lose my best friend … my only friend.”

  She grabs up one of the pillows, hugging it to her chest.

  “Tori would believe you. Give her a chance.”

  “No. Even if she says she believes me … deep down she will always wonder.” She laughs. “Hell, I’d doubt me too.”

  Rage has me jumping up from the bed, my hands clutched at my sides, my jaw clenched. “Shit Keria. What you’re asking … it’s impossible.” I pace by the bed, stopping to study her tear streaked face every now and then.

  Now I really want to hit him.

  “Where are you going!” she calls, tossing the pillow aside and crawling to the edge of the mattress, sitting with her legs under her bottom. Her neck is blotchy from being upset. Her curled lashes wet.

  “To tell your mom. Maybe she can talk some sense into you.”

  “No. Please don’t. He tried but he didn’t … there’s a big difference, Jonah. He’s already terrified I’m going to tell someone. It will never happen again.”

  “He should be scared.”

  “And he is.” She gets off the bed and comes to stand in front of me, blinking up at me like a timid fawn. “Please calm down and listen. I don’t want anyone to know. I want to forget it ever happened.”

  “You’re asking a lot if you’re asking me to forget,” I exhale, my arms going around her. She is trembling, weak. I place a small kiss on the top of her head when she lays it on my chest.