She’d gone home a couple of times since she and Tyler had been together. Jasper wouldn’t touch her. Not beyond a hug of greeting and a peck on the cheek. She’d tried to hold onto him, press against him. She could tell he still wanted her, that it pained him to have her so close and not be able to have her. He’d wrap his strong fingers around her upper arms and gently force her away from him.
She’d stopped going home.
Tyler was handing her the small hand mirror she kept on her dresser, a silver one that had been her mother’s. When she stood up and turned toward the full-length mirror that hung on the back of her door, she could see the dots and lines he’d drawn on her back. As he said, just like the night sky. It was pretty, pretty enough she considered getting more ink. But then she looked at her hair, still short.
Maybe no permanent decisions until she was back with Jasper where she belonged. But a picture wouldn’t hurt. Would it? She thought of all the sexting scandals, one of which was currently rocking one of the first-year dorms. She did not want to be that girl. While she’d gladly let Jasper photograph any and all of her, trusting him to keep the images to himself, she didn’t have that kind of faith in Tyler. Maybe never would. They’d break up eventually, whether it be next week or in a few years and when they did, she’d prefer it not to get ugly. No pictures.
“What do you think?”
“It’s beautiful. I love it. Will you tell me what they are?”
She held onto the hand mirror as Tyler stepped in close. His lanky body, still clothed, pressed against her and his shirt rubbed against her breasts. The sensation sent blood to her pelvis, creating a mild throb in her pussy and her clit. It was sense memories of Jasper—all the times she’d been naked while he remained clothed—that were turning her on, but it was Tyler in front of her. She draped her free arm around his neck as he wrapped his arms around her, fingers tracing the stories he’d told on her skin.
“This is Gemini, the twins.”
He traced something that looked more like a U tipped on its side with a tail he’d drawn on her left shoulder blade.
“You’re a Gemini, aren’t you?”
She nodded. Gavin had been one, too. Aunt Emily had been into astrology and she always joked it was no wonder the two of them had paired off, since Gemini hated to be alone. Keyne wasn’t a big believer in fortune-telling, it wasn’t like she checked her horoscope every day, but that piece of information had stuck with her.
“Gemini are happiest when they have companionship, right? Are you happier now?”
She shifted her vision from the reflection to Tyler’s face, tipped up her chin and offered a kiss. “Yes.”
He kissed her back, laid his hands flat on her back and pulled her closer. His tongue slipped into her mouth and she responded. Appropriately, she thought. Fooling around with Tyler always felt so distant, like it was happening to someone else. She never lost herself the way she had with Jasper. When she’d been with Jasper, everything disappeared except him, except that moment.
With Tyler, she could make a to-do list in her head. Three chapters to read for her English class, some translations to do for Spanish . . .
Tyler kissed down her neck and across her collarbone to her shoulder, ran his thumb over the scar and the tattoo on her arm. She’d told him what it meant and while it didn’t seem to resonate with him as deeply as it did for her—like a tuning fork—he understood.
“Did you get to no yet today?”
A small shake of her head. No. Today hadn’t been the best day.
“Maybe I can help you forget.” He brought a hand up, cupped her breast and ran a thumb over her nipple, back and forth until it stiffened. Wrapping his other arm around her back, he steered her backward to the bed and pressed her gently onto the mattress. He stretched his body the length of hers, the weight of him comforting on top of her.
They kissed as he fondled her, his touch too gentle to distract her from the long list of homework she should do, never mind from the constant aching torment of whether it was her fault Gavin had died. The hardness of Tyler’s erection pressed against her and he began to move, hips rocking against her.
“Keyne,” he breathed against her lips. “Tonight?”
She’d been soft, receptive, responsive for him, but at his question, she stiffened and not in a good way. They’d been together for a while now and she knew he expected sex. She could kiss him, touch and be touched without too much difficulty, but the thought of him, inside of her . . .
She shook her head as she pushed the hair back from his face. “I don’t think so. I’m . . .”
“Not ready?”
“Not yet. I’m sorry.”
There was a tightening of his jaw, a hardness that rippled across his features that uncoupled his similarity to Gavin some. “Sure. We’ll wait.”
She could practically hear the and wait, and wait, and wait he didn’t say out loud. He knew she wasn’t a virgin and seemed dumbfounded she’d want to hold off. She knew it was that way for a lot of people . . . Once you’d had sex, it was on the table. And if it was sitting there, right on the table, why would you content yourself with eating around it instead of feasting on the main event?
She’d been holding him off with hors d’ouevres for a month. But she still wasn’t ready. Jasper had been right about that, even if he’d been wrong about so many other things. She did need intimacy for sex, needed to trust the person with her life, not just her body. She accepted not everyone was like her, even though she found it difficult to empathize with some of her hallmates who seemed to bring home a different guy every weekend.
While her family had been casual about sex, they’d never made it seem cheap. It was something that happened between people who loved each other, and they’d understood that Keyne and Gavin had. In one of the few pieces of blatant sex wisdom her mother had dispensed to her, her mom had said, “Sex is sacred.”
When so much else had melted away over the past year and change—how she smelled, the exact color of her hair, what her voice sounded like when she told Keyne she loved her—those words remained and she held them in her heart. Sex had been sacred with Jasper. Filthy to be sure, but sacred in a way she understood. To be seen, possessed, and loved that way was divine, she was certain. But this . . . this would be a cheap imitation.
She stanched his irritation with another kiss before urging him onto his back, unbuttoned his shirt one button at a time, and drew her breasts over his chest, down his torso, kissing his smooth skin in their wake.
When she got to his pants, she unhooked and unzipped them, took his cock in her hand and stroked him. “How about I make you forget instead?”
***
He told himself he was going to have a drink with a friend. He told himself a lot of things these days. Justified things he had no business doing. It’s okay to get plastered on the nights Keyne won’t call. It’s fine to skip the gym when you’re so hungover you feel like you’re closer to dead than alive. It’s completely acceptable to shunt work off onto Deja because you can’t keep your head on straight.
It had been bad before, when she’d left, but after she started dating Tyler and had stopped coming home, it had gotten a million times worse. He’d marshaled his control before, but he’d all but given up now. It was his fault, he’d pushed her away. No matter if she belonged to him in his heart, she belonged to someone else while she walked around every day and whatever kind of fucked-up he was, he wasn’t the kind of guy who ever stole another guy’s girl.
Dated her afterward, sure, but he’d never cheated on his partners who’d asked for fidelity and had never facilitated anyone else’s unfaithfulness. Knowingly at any rate. The point was that he wouldn’t fuck Keyne while she had a boyfriend, nor would he master her. He loved how she made it a verb, like it was something he did to her, as if she were a hobby to be learned, a skill to be perfected. She was so much more th
an that, but he knew she liked to be objectified. Let her think that way while he knew better.
She was a puzzle he’d never be able to completely put together because she was ever changing, a mystery that always had some loose threads hanging. He wanted to tinker with her for the rest of his life, figure out how all the moving pieces fit together, learn how to repair them when they broke. He’d earn a doctorate in Keyne-ology.
When she came back. If she came back. For now, he was on a self-imposed sabbatical and he fucking hated it. So he met Alice at a bar he used to favor, getting there early to down a drink before she showed up. A vodka tonic so she wouldn’t smell it on his breath.
Alice kissed him on the cheek and set herself down close beside him on the leather couch, placing a hand on his knee that soon slid up his thigh.
She was a beautiful woman and if she had a submissive bone in her body, he was sure they would’ve gotten together at some point. He’d considered letting her top him to see what it would be like to sleep together but something in him had always rebelled. He liked dissecting women like clockwork and he couldn’t do that if he was the one being whaled on while strapped to the Saint Andrew’s cross.
He didn’t move her hand or shrink away, though. No, he let her stroke his leg through his jeans. It felt good. He didn’t have a whole lot of human contact these days. And by not a whole lot, he meant none. They chatted for a while before she brought up the inevitable. “How’s Keyne?”
“She’s at school, doing well in her classes, and she has a boyfriend.”
“Who you hate?”
“With the passion of a thousand burning suns.”
She laughed at him, throwing back her head and exposing her throat. “The two of you are clearly close, and I could tell when you brought her to the gym that you care about her deeply. I can understand why you haven’t come back to the club. It was satisfying, right? Having that much control over someone and that much responsibility?”
He leaned back into the couch, part of his guard let down. He and Alice understood each other. “That and fucking terrifying. I’ve never felt so off balance in my whole life.”
“I think that’s good for you, J,” she said, landing a punch on his arm that made him wince. “Teach you a little humility. I’ve gotta get to the club. You know where to find us if you need some solid ground to stand on. We’ve got a couple new subs you might play well with. Let me know if you want introductions.”
“Will do, Alice. Good to see you.”
Half an hour and two more vodka tonics later, his phone rang. “Ryan, what’s up?”
Ryan was the one who’d been storing his stuff. He’d seen him a few times since then for lunch or a drink when Keyne was out with friends, but not lately.
“Alice said she had a drink with you. Thought you might be up for partying a little harder than that.”
The “no” started to rise to Jasper’s lips but never quite made it out. Why not? Why shouldn’t he get high? It was Friday night, Keyne wouldn’t call until Sunday. He’d have plenty of time to get his head back on straight.
***
It was time for her Sunday night call with Jasper, and for the first time, she wasn’t looking forward to it. Well, she was, because she’d want to talk to Jasper even if he were going to yell at her, which he wouldn’t. He might bite his tongue and look like he wanted to raise his voice, but he always kept his cool with her, always.
And it wasn’t even anything bad. Her grades were good, her roommates were fine, she wasn’t in any trouble to speak of. She’d almost rather she were. Jasper liked to problem-solve, which was maybe part of why he loved her so much. She was a problem that would always need solving.
Her therapist would probably call their relationship co-dependent—had in the past alluded to just that—but the thing was, wasn’t everyone co-dependent? And at least the person she was depending on would never let her down. Which made her all the more uncomfortable as the phone rang. And rang. Where was he?
Finally his voice mail picked up and she was so startled, she hung up, didn’t leave a message. Never had he not answered her calls. Never ever. There was a plummeting sensation in her stomach as she tried again. And again. Seriously, what the hell?
It had been a long time since she’d had a panic attack. The nightmares had never left, but they were almost routine by now; something that happened between when she closed her eyes at night and opened them in the morning. She could tell she was edging into one now because she felt like her body temperature was dropping. Cold started in her chest, and pumped through her body. She should ask one of her chem major friends what compound it was that made a person feel like that. How you could feel like you were freezing from the inside out and not die.
Pacing in her tiny room probably looked ridiculous, but she didn’t care. It was half to keep warm and half so she didn’t have to sit still, because if she sat still she might lose whatever grip on reality she had left, which was ebbing by the second. For the tenth time, she got his voice mail, and finally she spoke.
“Jasper. Where are you? It’s Sunday, and you’re supposed to be there, and you’re not, and I’m . . .” Her voice cracked on a sob and she hated herself for it. Really? All it took for her to break was someone not answering their phone? But it wasn’t anyone. She wouldn’t have cared if Tyler hadn’t answered his phone, or had taken a while to get back to a text. But this was Jasper, and he’d made her a promise. “Call me. When you get this, please call me.”
She managed to hang up before she started crying for real. Throwing herself on her bed, she grabbed her Peter Pan doll from under her pillow where she kept it so her roommates wouldn’t know she still had a stuffed animal, and she sat on her bed with her phone in front of her, rubbing her star on her bracelet and trying not to feel like her scar was on fire.
Five minutes that were some of the most agonizing of her life passed before her phone rang. Jasper. Finally.
“Jasper, what the hell? Where have you been?”
There was a pause and she almost started yelling again, but then there he was. Sort of.
“Could you not with the yelling?”
His voice sounded off. Like his mouth was stuffed with cotton and slurry at once.
“Are you sick?”
There was a humorless chuckle on the other end and her muscles went rigid. “I’m a little under the weather, yeah.”
Why hadn’t he called her? Probably didn’t want to bother her, but if he was sick—Jasper never got sick—and sick enough to sound like that? “Do you want me to come home?”
His refusal was swift and harsh. “No. Don’t you dare. Midterms are in a couple of weeks, you can’t miss any classes.”
Well at least he was with it enough to scold her. But she still didn’t like it. Something was wrong. “Fine.”
She waited for him to ask how she was, what was new, even to ask in that begrudging tone how Tyler was, but he didn’t. Coughed and cleared his throat. Nothing left to do but tell him then. She’d planned to ask, but now he’d scared her half to death and not even apologized, and she wasn’t in an asking mood.
“Fall break is in a couple of weeks. I want to come home, and I want—”
“Keyne, we’ve talked about this. For the next four years—”
“Fuck you and your four years. I’m telling you I need something, that I want something and you’re saying no? Even though you want it, too? What the hell? This doesn’t even make any sense, Jasper. I found a nice boy like you wanted me to, tried to be a normal girl who likes vanilla fooling around. And guess what? I hate it. It makes me feel like a cold fish, that I can’t be what Tyler wants me to be. It makes me feel broken. Is that what you want?”
“No, that is the opposite of what I want.” His voice had that gravelly quality that told her he was talking through clenched teeth. Good. She hoped he chipped one and the dentist coul
dn’t see him for a good long time. Yeah.
“Then why are you doing this to me? To us?”
“I—” She could picture him on the other end of the line, eyes closed, nostrils flared, bridge of his nose pinched between his blunt fingers as he blew out a sigh. “I’m doing it for you, Keyne. For us. I want to know that when you come back to me—if you come back to me—it’s because you’re choosing it, not because you don’t know any better.”
Alice was always telling her that she shouldn’t use her kickboxing skills for harm, but only to defend herself if necessary. But she was quite certain Alice would have nothing to contribute but a thumbs-up if Keyne decided to punch Jasper in his stupid, illogical face.
“So, you can come home if you’d like. I’d love to see you. We can go to the gym and do crossword puzzles, maybe have dinner with Leisl, but I’m not going to touch you.”
Her heart hurt, and it was fucked-up that the only person she wanted comfort from was the person who was hurting her. If she could see him, be held by him . . . but he wouldn’t, because he was a stubborn bastard.
“Fine. You can make your choice, but I’m going to make mine, too. I’m not coming home, so you can free up your calendar for whatever the fuck it is you do when I’m not there. And you should go to bed, you sound like hell.”
***
He felt like he’d been dragged through hell and back, and then through hell again. Not only had he gone to Ryan’s house and gotten beyond fucked-up, he’d been so out of it he hadn’t realized he’d lost an entire day to being blitzed out of his mind. It wasn’t until his phone rang, and rang, and, dammit, rang, that he’d realized it was not in fact Saturday night, but Sunday night and it was Keyne calling.
When he’d cracked his eyes open, it had taken him a minute to even remember where he was. Ryan’s. On his couch because guy had transformed his guest room into a weight room. And fuck was that couch too small for him. So small he’d fallen onto the floor. When he’d sat up, he’d barely made it Ryan’s bathroom before he’d puked. He was getting too old for this shit.
His Custody Page 28
