by Dee Lagasse
“No, no, no,” she shakes her head, taking my hand, following me to the bathroom. Watching me with adoring eyes as I start the shower, I pull her in with me once the temperature is just right. “The part where you called me baby.”
Taking the bottle of body wash she had left in here from her shower earlier, I squeeze a few drops onto the spongey bath thing she has hanging from the handle controlling the water temperature. As she leans into me, I wash her back, her whole body lifting as she sighs contentedly. Stepping back, I turn her around, letting her fall back onto me. Her head leans back onto my chest as I wash her shoulders and then begin to make my way down. Once I get to her stomach, I turn her back around, and kneel, the water from the shower dripping all over me. Washing her thighs and her legs, I push her legs apart gently, taking the sponge to her, letting my fingers brush against her warm, swollen clit. A caveman-like pride fills me, knowing I did that. That I left my mark on her. Branded for the night, she’s mine.
“Chase,” she warns, as if my fingers down there are doing more than clean.
“What baby?” I ask, feigning innocence, knowing damn well exactly what I’m doing.
“You need to stop,” she smiles, coyly, as I pull my fingers back.
“Do you really want me to? Because I will…” I kiss the top of her nose, letting her know the ball is completely in her court. I don’t want her to feel pressured into doing anything she doesn’t want to do.
“You need to stop if you don’t intend on following through,” she finishes, as her hands find their way into my hair, giving it a little tug.
Sliding one finger in, and then another, I work her clit until I can feel the contractions of her tightening around me. As she begs me for her release, lifting her left leg, settling it on the small shelf meant for holding bottles of shampoo and conditioner. Kissing her thigh, and moving closer with each kiss, her grip on my hair gets tighter with each kiss.
With my fingers still working inside of her, I suck gently, getting a string of “fucks” from Hollis in response. Sliding my tongue across her pussy, I move it in the same motion as my fingers and it isn’t more than a minute before she’s trying to brace herself on the shower walls, calling to me as I pull my fingers out, selfishly wanting the taste of her all on my lips.
“No one else knows you’re the only guy that’s gotten me off with his tongue.”
She bends down, outside of the shower, reaching for the sponge I dropped when I decided to follow through. As the water runs cold behind us, I tell her I’ll be out in a minute and as much as I would kill for what I think she had planned, she just nods and steps out of the shower without a word, covering herself with a towel.
Quickly washing myself off, I grab the other towel, drying myself off before wrapping it around my waist. In the five minutes I had been in the bathroom without her, Hollis had stripped the bed and remade it, leaving a ball of yellow linens on the floor.
“What side do you want?” she asks, looking at the bed from the side closest to the door.
“That one,” I point to the side she’s standing on.
We cross paths halfway and it takes all my willpower not to grab her and start something again. Her heavy eyes and quiet, sleepy voice stop me though. Choosing to climb into the bed, I extend my arm as an invitation for her to come lay with me instead.
Ten minutes of me running my fingers through her now short black hair and rubbing her scalp, her breathing gets heavy and consistent. Kissing the top of her head, I lean my own into hers.
My heart stopping when I hear a very sleepy, almost incoherent, “I love you, Chase Matthew.”
“I love you too, Hollis Grace,” I whisper back, not sure if she hears it or not. Our breaths follow a similar pattern, and before long I drift off, feeling the most content I’ve ever felt in my entire life.
I’m not sure what time it is, but I’ve been staring at Hollis peacefully sleeping next to me for a while now. God, she’s so fucking perfect. Which is why I can feel my heart breaking knowing what I’m about to do.
Leaving this bed, this room…leaving her is going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But, I have to. For my heart. For hers. Nothing good can come from the way the world will completely implode underneath us if we let this get too far. I thought I could do this. I thought that we could cross that line and move forward together, because that’s all I’ve ever wanted since the day she, quite literally, stumbled into my life.
She said over and over last night that she wouldn’t be able to go back to the way things were if we crossed the line we did, but what happens when we keep this going and everything falls apart? What the fuck do I know about forever? After watching my parents’ marriage crumble, I purposely avoided any serious commitment, assuming if the day ever came, Hollis would be the only exception. What happens when she realizes that if we’re together, there’s no one to save her from me? I’m the one that swoops in and saves the day and I can’t be “that guy” if we’re together.
And I can’t expect her to give up everything and everyone else she loves for me. I can’t and I won’t.
Things are going to change. But I cannot live a life without Hollis Capparelli. We’ll get past this weekend. She’s going to be angry for a while, but once she has time and I get the chance to explain to her that I walked away for the sake of our friendship, she’ll understand. We’ve gotten through so much. We can get through this too.
I just know I can’t lose her forever. Even if that means letting her go for now.
Chapter Nineteen
Hollis
The loud crinkle of plastic pulls me from a sound sleep. Panic jolts through me like lightning when I see Chase walking with his covered groomsman suit, and haphazardly fold it and stuff it into the gray overnight bag he brought with him. The tightness of his lips and the solemn sadness in his eyes cause me to pull myself up from the warmth of the yellow comforter I lie under.
“What are you doing?” I ask, rubbing my eyes. “What time is it?”
The room is still dark, with no sun peeking through the curtains. The birds haven’t replaced the chirp of the crickets. When I had gone down to the kitchen to get us waters, the clock hanging on the wall had read quarter after one. Shortly after I crawled back into bed, I had fallen asleep to Chase’s fingers weaving in and out of the short, tendrils of my hair.
“Uh, it’s a little after five. I’m going to head home,” Chase says, refusing to look up from his now closed overnight bag. “Get ready for the pizza party with the boys. There’s a ton of shit I need to do back in Abbott Hills.”
“Um, okay. Give me a few minutes, I’ll get my stuff together,” I tell him. “You could have woken me up instead of creeping around in the dark like a weirdo.”
My legs feel tight as I stretch them out across the bed. I’ll need to not only rehydrate, but repair my vocal chords after a weekend of eating and drinking like crap—something Chase has been teasing me about since we were kids. No greasy foods, no dairy, and minimal alcohol before I need to sing. Which means like after the night of my birthday, I would spend the next week cleansing my system and loading up on tea. My rambles about grabbing green tea, lemons, and Pedialyte get cut short when Chase interrupts me.
“That’s the thing,” he adds, still avoiding eye contact. “Do you think Ellis would mind giving you a ride back? I can ask Tuck, too. I think it would be best if I went back by myself, did the party by myself. It’s what’s best for the team.”
“What’s best for the team? Or what’s best for you?” I shoot back, not buying a single thing that just came out of his mouth. Being friends with someone for half your life, you tend to know when they’re lying or trying to bullshit their way out of something. Both of which Chase was doing right now. “What aren’t you telling me, Chase?”
“I just want to fucking go home, okay?” he yells, lowering his voice when he sees me jump. But that doesn’t stop him from spitting out a venomous, “Damn it, Hollis. Not everything is about you.”
>
He doesn’t say goodbye or look back once as he storms out of the room. Before I can stop them, a burst of tears spring from my eyes. I should have known. Letting my guard down, letting him in just that little bit more. Sixteen years of friendship, gone. I said too much last night. There’s no turning back now. It’s out there. I can’t take it back.
He just chose to leave. No matter what he says, I will never believe it was about the football team or a fucking pizza party, which was my idea in the first place. He left because it was too much for him. What I felt was too much. He left because I told him there would be no going back if we did what we did last night, and now that he’s not caught up in the heat of the moment, he remembered this is not what he wants. I’m not what he wants.
The Hollis that always runs after him after a fight, never letting him get the last word, is nowhere to be found this morning. Even after he’s left me standing there, I can’t find words to yell back to him. Instead, I just stand there, baffled, as the warm salty tears continue to fall.
Ripping open my suitcase, I pull my trusty over-sized t-shirt and flannel pajama pants out. I should have just put these on last night.
There’s a light knock on the door and a, “Hey, Hol, you okay?”
Tucker and Ellis both peek their heads in, Tucker pushing the door open all the way and wrapping me in bear hug as soon as he sees me crying. Ellis rubs her eyes sleepily before leaving the room without a word. This is probably the earliest she’s been up in years, and I’m sure the slamming front door was not the wake-up call they imagined.
“I don’t even know what I did,” I begin to try to explain. “He just left using the bullshit excuse of the pizza party before he so sweetly let me know that not everything is about me.”
“Well, you can ride back with me,” Tuck offers. “I wanted to stop by your Dad’s anyway to talk to him about work stuff.”
“I’m actually going to call him,” I tell him, the idea coming to me as I say it. “My dad, I mean. See if he and Uncle Leo wouldn’t mind running my Jeep up tonight after dinner. Go hiking today, spend another night.”
“Or, I could stay,” Ellis suggests, handing me a cup of coffee as she rejoins us and sits on the bed. “And we can ride home together tomorrow. I’ll give you your space. I’m sure as fuck not hiking or running, but while you’re gone, I’ll go into town, get some stuff for dinner, a bottle of wine, and just be near if you need me.”
“Deal.”
With that, Ellis practically forces a breakfast of strawberries and granola down my throat before allowing me to change into the pair of black nylon athletic pants, pink racerback tank top, and the running shoes I had packed just in case I could squeeze in a walk or run through the trails before going home this weekend. I didn’t think that I would have a whole day to aimlessly wander around the woods, but if that’s the only good that comes from this day, I guess I’ll take it.
Grabbing a sweatshirt and a few bottles of water, I toss them in an old hiking backpack that’s left in the closet by the front door for this exact reason. Well, it’s there for hiking the trails behind the cabin, not necessarily avoiding reality like I’m trying to do, but that’s neither here nor there.
Just as I’m about to walk out the door, I hear Tucker call my name from the other side of the house. Stopping, I expect him to ask me not to say anything about him and Ellis.
“Don’t worry,” I reassure him. “Your secret is safe with me.”
Puzzled, he just looks at me, my comment obviously lost on him. “Ooooh! Ellis!” he laughs. “Yeah, I appreciate that. But, that’s not what I was coming to talk to you about.”
“Alright, now you’ve got my attention,” I admit, having no clue what Tucker could need to talk to me about so urgently that he chased me down.
“Listen, I don’t know what went on with you and Chase -”
“Tuck,” I stop him, warning that I don’t want to get into it with him.
“Just don’t give up on him, okay?” he starts. “If I know anything about my brother when it comes to you, it’s that he doesn’t do anything if he doesn’t think it will be what’s best for you. Just, don’t shut him out, Hol.”
“He made it very clear that not everything is about me this morning,” I shrug. “I get that he’s your brother and I would never ask you to be in a place that puts you in between us because you have to pick Chase. And I know that.”
“But, I love you too, sis,” he says, offering me a small, sad smile. “Don’t forget that.”
“I won’t,” I assure him. “I love you too, little brother.”
There isn’t an ounce of blood or a single strand of genetics that makes him my little brother, but he was just as much a part of my heart as any of the Capparelli fellas. And he earned that space. Not by his last name or the family ties that bind us together, but by his own love and his loyalty. No matter what happened or didn’t happen between Chase and I at this point, I would make sure Mischa, Lola, and Tucker never questioned my love for them. This would not be another repeat of what happened when I was with Noah.
Giving him a quick hug, I ask him to text me during the week to set up a “Auntie Hol & Lola” dinner date and begin to make my way down the long dirt driveway. As I walk toward the bottom, I scroll through my texts until I find the last one from Mischa and send her a quick, “Coffee this week?”
Without waiting for her response, I tuck my phone into the side pocket of the bag on my back. It only takes me fifteen minutes to walk to the entrance of the state park that holds the lake and the small mountain on which I plan on spending most of my day. The Broken Brook Trail is something I could go through in my sleep. The familiar feel of the ground underneath me gives me more comfort than I anticipated. The three miles to the peak is an easy climb, and despite the warmer fall weather, the trails are empty. The entire hike up, I didn’t see a single person. It’s like the universe figured it would do me a solid, knowing the shit show that was my morning.
Taking in the bright red and yellow leaves that cover the trees on the ground below me, I pause for water and to take a picture of the scenery around me. Uploading the photo with the caption, “My Only True, Forever Loves – Music & the Mountains.” Ending the post with a black heart emoji, I tap on share.
The truth was, the silent still of this mountain was my source for strength and inspiration…until Chase. I’d spent most of my adult life saying I would never leave this place, or well, New England and all it took last night was for Chase to say he would build me a wraparound porch for me to agree to move to Louisiana if he got the coaching job he applied for at LSU. As we laid there together, I promised I would do all the cooking and he promised to keep me safe from alligators.
I would have followed him to the frozen tundra of Alaska and lived in a fucking igloo if he asked me to. But he didn't. He left. He knew what last night meant to me, to my heart, and he chose to leave anyway. He chose to leave me and everything we promised each other behind.
I told him over and over, there was no coming back from this. There isn’t a chance in Hell we can go back to being friends after this. I can’t. I won’t. I pushed a teenage crush away, but there is no way I can look him in the face and pretend I’m okay right now, or ever. How do you look at the person you know is your soulmate and know they chose not to be with you? I’ll be civil when we cross paths again, because I would never expect my family to give up on him. He’ll still be at every family event. He’ll be at Sunday dinners and holidays.
Right now, I can’t take any more of the gut-wrenching twists in my stomach, so I pull out my phone and open the music app. Some people drink, others eat a pint of chocolate ice cream or binge shop, but the only thing I've ever needed is music. Loud music in my ears, that's all it takes to tune out the craziness of the world around me. Going back down the mountain is easy. The Dropkick Murphys’ live album playing loudly in my ears made it an effortless descent, reaching the bottom in half the time it took me to get to the peak.
&nbs
p; What I wouldn’t give for it to be March and Dropkick Murphys to be playing in Boston tonight. Davis, Travis, and I have been going to their St. Patrick’s Day show since we were old enough to take the train into the city by ourselves. My brother and my cousin spent their fair share of time in the pit when we were younger, but I stuck to crowd surfing and squeezing my way up to the front to get on the stage at the end. Tonight, five foot nothing or not, tonight, I would have made my way into the pit.
Just as I was about to take the dirt trail exit leading back to the main road to the cabin, I stepped to the left and Flogging Molly, Blood or Whiskey, The Mahones, and The Pogues fill the earbuds for the next two hours as I run the paved running trail that loops around the lake.
“Forever” by Dropkick Murphys begins to play and I stop in my tracks. My feet suddenly feel heavy. Deciding to take a small break, I take a seat on the edge of the water. Before I know it and can stop it, I’m holding my knees with my face down onto my thighs, trying to hide the tears flowing. From who, I don’t even know. There’s no one around, there hasn’t been for hours. This place made up so much of who I am is now just an empty space for my thoughts to scream.
“One, two, three, four, five.”
“Uno, due, tre, quattro, cinque.”
“Uno, dos, tres, quatro, cinco.”
Shit. I don’t know any other languages.
After a night of watching classic Adam Sandler movies and avoiding talking about Chase and Tucker, Ellis and I said goodnight and made our way to each of our bedrooms. It had been nice to lie on the couch, eat junk food, and drink wine with my cousin. There are few and far between instances we get to spend any time just the two of us, and though there wasn’t much conversation tonight, I think it was a night we both needed.
Sliding into bed, I cover myself with the comforter, resting my head on the pillow Chase laid on for only a second before tossing it off the bed. He’s not even here and he’s still taunting me with the traces that he left behind. As I watch the blades of the ceiling fan spin around, I try to do everything, anything, I can do to not think about Chase. He left. He chose not to stay here with me. He hasn’t called. He hasn’t texted. He was active on Facebook an hour ago, so I know he’s not dead in a ditch somewhere. Not that I would ever admit out loud to checking Facebook Messenger just to see when he was last active…
