More Than Lies

by N. E. Henderson

  He’s right; the heat of the water does help ease the tension inside my brain. I don’t want to get out, but my stomach is in need of food. Especially since I know Pam is here. My mouth is practically watering.

  I towel off, slowly so I don’t have another dizzy spell and wrap the white fluffy material around my body.

  Quickly as possible I brush my teeth and rinse my mouth out with minty mouthwash. After about twenty minutes of being awake, I’m feeling slightly better than when I opened my eyes.

  The last step is to throw on some comfy clothes. I open the door leading to my room and jump backwards when I see Shawn on my bed. His legs are at the end of the bed with his feet on the ground, but he’s reclined onto his back with his arms behind his head. As if he hears me, Shawn leans up, resting on his forearms. His eyes scan my body from head toe. I tighten the towel covering my nakedness even tighter when I want nothing more than to release it. If my pain wasn’t so prominent I’d be tempted just to see what Shawn would do.

  “I didn’t think you’d still be in here.”

  Shawn’s eyes close and he drops back down onto the bed.

  “You had a dizzy spell when you got up, I didn’t want you to fall coming down the stairs.” His eyes open again but he’s staring at the ceiling or so I’m guessing.

  “I’ll be fine. You can go. You don’t have to babysit me, Shawn. I know this isn’t your style.” I walk over to my dresser. It’s against the wall so my back is turned away from the bed.

  “Yeah, and what is my style then?” Shawn pushes off the bed. I can see him in the mirror as I’m pulling out my sweat pants and a t-shirt. He walks up behind me, getting close without touch my back. He places his palm down, flat onto the smooth surface of the dresser. He looks at me through the mirror and I look at him. I don’t answer his question. I don’t know how. “Are we going to address what happened in Mac’s office or are we going to pretend it didn’t happen?”

  It happened. There is no way I’ll ever forget a moment of his lips on mine or his hands on my skin and I don’t want to either.

  “Do you want to forget it happened?”

  “I asked you that question.”

  “And I countered.”

  “Tara,” he warns. Shawn’s eyes close as his forehead falls forward, down toward the damp skin between my neck and shoulder. He pulls in air as if pulling my scent into his nose. The heat from his exhale causes my body to shiver as goose bumps break out across my skin. “You can’t handle me. I don’t know if there is a woman that exists that can.”

  “And you’ll never know because you won’t take the chance to find out.” He looks back at me, staring into the eyes of my reflection in the mirror. I do the same to him.

  “You’re probably right.” Shawn pushes off the dresser, turns, and walks out of my bedroom.

  I don’t understand him. He has the perfect parents and a great childhood. Why is he so against relationships? It’s something I shouldn’t concern myself with. Even if Shawn dated, was interested in a woman more than once, it wouldn’t be me.

  He’s wrong though. I could handle him if given a shot.

  I huff out a breath of air and then finish grabbing my necessities to put on clean clothes so I can go see Pam.

  What I didn’t expect was to find my brother here as well. There is nothing like the time we have with those we love the most. Every moment is precious because we aren’t promised tomorrow. Hold on to them tight and cherish them while you’re given the chance.

  Thanksgiving in Georgia, riding four-wheelers, eating good food, and enjoying our family, has been a tradition in my family for the past ten years. My parents discovered an ATV park here when I was in junior high. I’ve been riding four-wheelers since I was a small kid. I love it. Having a machine between my thighs and riding until my thumb is numb is my idea of relaxation. I don’t need a beach. I need dirt and a Yamaha.

  We were coming here so often that my parents bought a smaller, second home in the tiny country town where the park is located. Since then it’s had a few upgrades. The kitchen was redesigned the way my mother wanted and an in-ground pool was installed five years ago.

  You only live once, might as well enjoy it to the fullest and do the things you love. That’s my parents’ motto and I sorta like it and try to follow suit.

  Tara and I arrived this morning. My parents came yesterday so mom could prepare everything for the meal we enjoyed earlier tonight. Shane, my brother, arrived a few hours ago. My other roommates, Tara’s brother, Kylie, and Layla, Mason’s other sister, should arrive within the hour. Tomorrow, we all plan on spending the whole day riding.

  It’s been nearly two weeks since the drugging incident, but it’s never far from my mind. I want to beat the shit out of the guy that tried to rape her and if I ever see him again, it’ll happen. I’m certain of that. The son of a bitch should be in a cell right now. No, that would be too kind. He deserves far worse.

  Mom and Dad tried to talk her into going to the cops about the incident, but Tara refused. It pisses me off that a grown ass woman — a fucking adult — still gives a damn that her shitty ass parents would blame her for what happened. Oh, I’m certain her bitch ass mother would, but Tara shouldn’t care what she or anyone else thinks.

  The parties at my house have mellowed since then. We’ve all been hanging out at Mac’s more and more which suits me just fine. When Tara works, I get impeccable service, not that she needs to works there and I’m hoping to get her to quit once I take over the ownership of the studio. She still has another full semester of school when this year ends, plus her writing and two jobs. I don’t see how she manages everything she has going on. Something will have to give. Now that she is getting paid for working at the studio, I think it’ll be a no brainer.

  “Here, son.” I glance up to see my dad holding a bottle of Corona out, offering it to me. I gladly take it.

  “Thanks, old man.” When the cap is twisted off, I bring the cold glass bottle up to my lips, taking a sip of beer. We finished eating half an hour ago. I’m stuffed, I’m sure my dad and brother are too. Shane headed off the bed a few minutes ago. Mom’s cleaning up the mess we all made and Tara is seated down from me at the other end of the couch with her nose buried into her eReader.

  “So what’s this I hear about you buying the studio from your boss?” I roll my head in his direction to my right, laying a thick glare toward Tara’s head. She isn’t paying me a lick of attention, but I’ll have a word with her later. It’s not that I’m keeping secrets from my parents. I don’t need to, but the less amount of people that know of my plans, means there is less of a chance on it becoming public knowledge before I’m ready. Before I find out who’s stealing money from me.

  I feel my lower leg being nudged so I turn my attention back my dad. He’s shaking his head.

  “Your grandmother,” he says as if clarifying that it wasn’t Tara that spilled the beans. “You’re lucky she’s in Florida and doesn’t live back home any longer. That old lady can’t keep anything to herself. The whole congregation of her church probably knows too. You know how she brags.” He shakes his head while laughing about his mother-in-law.

  That I do. Old people are something else. If all old men do is sit around with their buddies drinking coffee and talking about the weather while old ladies talk about everyone and their mother, then please kill me before I get old. There’s got to be more in life than sitting around, waiting to die.

  “What else did she tell you?”

  “She told your mom, who told me of course.” Of course she did. They tell each other everything. “About buying the studio and the house.”

  “That about sums it up.” I polish off the last of my beer.

  “Sums what up?” My mother walks into the room carrying a glass of white wine. When she gets next to my dad’s chair, he pulls her down into his lap with ease so she doesn’t spill. I’m used to this. These two are all about some public display of affection and always have been. It’s been a no
rmalcy all my life so it doesn’t gross me out like Mason whom I’ve witnessed turn and leave a room when his parents kiss.

  “Me, buying Southern Ink and Grand-maw and Grand-paw’s house.” Tara shuffles a few feet from me. I look up to see her standing up. She grabs her empty bottle of beer and starts to walk past me with a slight stumble. I raise my own empty. She takes it without me having to request another one.

  “Bill?” she questions before leaving. Her voice is smooth. Most wouldn’t realize she’s passed the buzzed stage and is well into a drunken state.

  “I’m good, darling.” He holds up his bottle to show her he isn’t close to being done. I guess I drink too fast, but then my dad isn’t a big drinker. He has an occasional beer, but that’s usually on the weekends or a holiday like tonight. Tara and I started drinking hours ago. I’m certain she’s polished off one of the two, twelve pack of Corona we brought in today.

  “That’s major, Shawn.” My mom smiles beautifully at me. Her smiles always touch her eyes. “If all I can complain about is that my baby lives an hour away from me, then I’m doing pretty darn good.” She relaxes onto my dad’s chest.

  “Major how?” I already live there and have for several years. I think of it as my home already. As far as the studio is concerned, it was either buy or move to Las Vegas. It’s not that I’m opposed to the latter option; I’d just rather stay where I am. Chance offers me a spot every time a vacancy at his own Tattoo parlor opens. He’s been on me to come join his team for two years now. I can’t bring myself to accept his offer.

  I look up as Tara extends a cold bottle of beer out in front of me. As I reach for it, my finger brushes across her wrist when I pull it toward me. Any possibilities of other reasons why I can’t leave are washed downed my throat when I swallow the cool liquid.

  Tara sits, picking up the electronic device to begin reading again. I look back toward my parents when my mom speaks again.

  “It means you’re putting your own roots down somewhere. You’re choosing Oxford as a home.” She sips her wine. “I’m proud of you is all I’m saying, son.”

  “Okay, Mom.” I leave it at that. Sure, I love hearing compliments from my parents, but they make me feel strange. Not at ease. I never know what to say back to the other person.

  “I’m going to head to bed soon, we have a long drive tomorrow.” My mom says to my dad.

  “I know honey, but stay and watch the football game with me for a few minutes.” My dad doesn’t take his eyes off the T.V. when he speaks to her, nor does she respond verbally to his request. Instead, my mom leans further into him, nestling into his front.

  They’re perfect; my parents that is. I’ve never met two individuals that pour off unconditional love the way they do. They are each other’s other half. If I believed in soul mates, I guess that’s what they would be. But I don’t.

  Maybe I just don’t believe in it for me. I don’t know. I don’t ever give it much thought and I don’t plan on starting.

  I glance in Tara’s direction. Her eyelids are closing and opening slowly. She’s getting sleepy from reading what I’m assuming she was so engrossed in on the drive to Georgia. I’m surprised she’s still awake. We’ve both been drinking heavily for hours.

  “Night son.” My mom brushes her lips across my forehead as her words penetrate causing me to lift my head. I nod my own goodnight to her before she walks past, doing the same to Tara. My dad mumbles night, following suit less than five minutes later. Tara and I are left alone with the light from the TV shining through the room.

  I look in her direction. She’s leaning toward the right side of the couch, her legs tucked into her body and her head propped in the palm of her hand. Her eyes are fully closed now. Her purple night shorts are riding high, revealing too much skin and causing my mind to wander places it shouldn’t go.

  The vibration in my pocket brings my thoughts to a halt. Retrieving my phone, I see it’s a text message.

  Mason: Almost there.

  Might as well call it a night. They’ll be here any minute and with the long drive will surely all be ready to crash out.

  “Tara,” I call out as I stand, shoving my cell back into my pocket without sending him a reply. “Get up. Let’s head to bed.”

  “Uh, huh.” She moans, but doesn’t budge from her spot. Taking a few steps toward her direction, I grad her device before it falls to the floor and I place it on the end table.

  “Tara,” I call out once again. She doesn’t reply this time nor does she move to get up. I know I’m going to have to carry her, and as much as that thought send a surge of energy through my body, I don’t want to touch her. Touching her, does things to me that I don’t like. Things I refuse to acknowledge wanting.

  She temps me with the impossible.

  Herself.

  I polish off the last of my beer before sitting the empty bottle down on the table. Afterwards, I gather Tara from under her knees and arms, lifting her off the couch and into my arms. A soft purr falls from her lips as her head rest on my shoulder making me wonder what she’d sound like lying beneath me with my cock buried deep inside her.

  Get a fucking grip Braden. It’ll never happen. You don’t want it to happen. It cannot happen, ever.

  Tara is perfect, too, like my parents. She’s beautiful, sweet, way too sweet, and good. Everything I’m not. You know what happens when you mix oil and water. It doesn’t blend, not even a little bit.

  My parents’ bedroom is through the kitchen whereas the other two rooms are on the opposite side of the house. My parents like the quiet whereas my brother and our friends as well as I tend to get loud. I head with Tara in tow in the direction of what’s still referred to as the kid’s rooms. Each room has four bunk style beds in them with a conjoining full bathroom that connects the rooms.

  The room my roommates and I stay in is located at the end of the hall. Before I make it there, Tara grasps onto my bicep, pulling herself closer into my body.

  Not this shit. Not tonight.

  Tara turns her face into my neck, inhaling as if she’s pulling in my scent into her lungs. Who am I kidding? That’s exactly what she’s doing and it has chills running down my spine not to mention the constriction I’m starting to feel in my pants.

  Just a few more seconds, that’s all I need and I’ll have her in bed then she can go to sleep.

  “Mmmm,” purrs from deep in her throat. That sound only helps to spur my dick upward.

  Drunken Tara equals bold Tara. She’s never like this when she is sober. Sober Tara would never have the balls to come onto me. Drunken Tara is a whole other person and this isn’t the first time I’ve been in this situation. I wasn’t expecting it tonight though. Usually Tequila is involved when this occurs.

  I shake my head trying to give her to hint to stop and be still. It doesn’t work. She pulls herself closer by running her palm from my bicep to my neck and pulling harder.

  “You smell good.” Her voice is a low sexy rasp and her breath is warm against my skin. “You smell like you.” I ignore her words the best I can. Talking to her only encourages Tara.

  Tightening my grip around her legs, I use my other hand to open the door. Walking in, I bypass turning the light on. The room isn’t very large. There’re two bunks on both sides of the wall to my left, a dresser, closet and the entrance to the bathroom to my right. Turning left, I hunch down, depositing Tara on one of the bottom bunks.

  She doesn’t release me when I pull backwards.

  “Goodnight, Tara.” I bite out. The sooner I stop touching her and get into my bed, the sooner I can shut off my brain and stop having unrealistic thoughts.

  “It can be a good night,” I can see the smile play out on her lips thanks to the moon light shining in through the windows. The kid’s rooms don’t have blinds or curtains. My mother’s form of making sure everyone gets up at the butt crack of dawn. I complained a lot as a teenager wanting to sleep in, but now I see it differently. Not that I don’t like sleeping in, I love it,
hence my non eight to five job. The missing window accents ensure we get all the riding time possible.

  “It will be a good night as soon as I’m asleep. You should do the same. Tomorrow will—” My words die on my lips as one of Tara’s hands slip underneath my t-shirt. “Tara,” I call out as her warm palm moves north. At least it wasn’t south…oh fuck, I thought too soon. The same palm glides downward, stopping above my jeans. “Stop this and go to sleep.”

  “No.” My eyes snap to hers.

  “You don’t want to play this game with me, little girl.”

  Laughter erupts from her deep inside her throat. “Little girl, really? I’m three months older than you, Shawn.” She lets out a soft sign. “I do most certainly want to play.”

  She wants to play? All right then, I’ll call her bluff. Tara can’t handle me no matter what she thinks.

  Bending down so that my hard chest lightly brushes her soft pump tits. Everything about Tara is soft and something I need to stop thinking about it at this very moment. Her breathing labors, making her chest raise and fall faster. Skimming my lips across her cheek, down to her eye, I whisper, “Are you sure?”

  “Y-y-yes.” Her stutter is breathy.

  I run the palm of hand down her side, over her ass, and past her thighs. Her shorts are riding high on her hips and the skin on her legs are heated. Moving back up her outer thigh, I slip my hand under her shorts and continue my path until I’m cupping her full round ass. My hand is seated between the thin material of her cotton shorts and what feels like silk panties.

  “Please.” That one word falling from that beautiful mouth almost makes me forget what I’m doing. She can’t want this. Want me. Not really. If she would take a minute and think about it, she’d realize what a mistake I’d be. I won’t be her mistake.

  A noise, no, noises catch my attention and then I hear the sound of the front door closing.

  They’re here; our friends that is.

  Without thinking further, I rip myself from under Tara’s bunk, moving lighting fast. I turn away from her, hearing a soft whimper of protest.