by Natalie Ward
Mia sighs now, sliding down the couch a little so her head can fall back and rest on the cushions. She’s staring up at the ceiling, her fingers absently picking at the label on her beer bottle.
“I’m fine,” she says in an entirely unconvincing way. “It’s Luke I’m worried about.”
I notice a tear sliding down her cheek and I scoot closer to her on the couch, my arm resting along the back, my fingers only inches from her hair. Mia turns to look at me, but doesn’t say anything else.
“Yeah sure I get that, but I’m asking how you’re doing, Mia,” I eventually tell her, knowing she can’t possibly be okay when she refuses to discuss what happened. “You can talk to me you know.”
Mia’s head turns back so she is once again looking up at the ceiling. My hand, which was resting on the couch, moves now and brushes away the tear on her cheek. I can feel both the warmth of her skin and the wetness of her tears and I suddenly want to press my mouth against her cheek. To feel that warmth against my lips, to taste her tears in my mouth. But I don’t, I sit frozen to the spot and unable to move away.
“Anyway, thanks for letting me stay here,” Mia suddenly says, sitting up so my hand slips from her cheek. “I’m happy to crash in with Luke, not take up the spare room.”
And with a flick of the switch, she’s back to defensive Mia, the girl who puts up these barriers to hide the vulnerable one underneath.
“Mia,” I say quietly.
“I just want to stay a bit longer, until he gets back on his feet. He won’t come back to LA with me, because he hates that place, so…”
“Mia,” I say again.
“What?” she asks, turning to look at me. I watch as she takes a long pull on her beer, her fingers still picking at the label.
I take a sip of mine too, never taking my eyes off her face. “You can stay as long as you want to and the spare room, it’s all yours.”
The briefest flicker of a smile crosses her face, so quick that I would have missed it had I not been staring at her. She doesn’t say anything, only nods at me before getting up off the couch and heading to the kitchen where I hear the sound of the fridge opening and more beers being pulled out. I down the rest of mine as she walks back into the living room, determined to make her talk about this, to acknowledge that it’s okay to need help, to accept help.
But I’m beginning to realise this girl is just as fucking stubborn as her brother.
Three hours and countless beers later, Mia is drunk and I am pretty much there too. She’s avoided talking any more about Luke or her father, despite how many times I’ve tried to bring it up. She’s always managed to somehow change the subject and right now we are battling it out at Halo on Xbox. Once again she is giving me a run for my money, despite her drunkenness, and I can’t help but be impressed by her skills.
“Mia, fuck,” I say, throwing my controller onto the couch as she once more blows my head off on screen.
Laughing, Mia turns to face me. “What, you don’t like being beaten by a girl?” she asks.
I shake my head at her. “I’ve never even played this game against a girl, let alone been beaten by one,” I tell her. “I have two brothers, Mia, and I had no idea girls were even into this kinda stuff.”
Mia stands up, a little unsteady on her feet. I reach out to grab her in case she falls, but she quickly steps away, heading into the kitchen again. “Well apparently you can be beaten by a girl, Jared,” she yells back. “I hope you’re okay with that?”
I don’t say anything, just watch as Mia walks back into the living room with two more beers. I’m not sure her drinking anymore is such a good idea, but there’s a part of me that doesn’t want to stop her. She’s smiling again, laughing too and even though I know we aren’t talking about what happened, that this is all just a mask, once again, I don’t want to take it away from her.
“Jared?” she says, handing me a beer. “You okay being beaten by a girl?”
She’s standing in front of me, smiling, looking down at me as I sit on the couch. I take the beer from her hand and when our fingers touch, it’s like a jolt shoots up my arm and then all the way down my spine.
“I’m okay with that,” I say quietly, unable to tear my eyes away from her face. She looks gorgeous, even with eyes that are unfocused from all the alcohol she’s drunk. Her hair is hanging down, slightly messy from her aggressive Xbox playing, but all I want to do is run my fingers through it. I want to slide my hand into it, against the back of her head and drag her lips down to mine.
She smiles at me again. “Good,” is all she says before she puts her beer on the coffee table, straddles my legs and sits down on my hips, pressing her mouth hard against mine.
At first I’m too shocked to do anything. I don’t talk and I don’t kiss her back. Then my stupid fucking brain wakes up to what’s happening here and I blindly reach out, trying to find the coffee table so I can put my beer down, while my other arm wraps itself around Mia’s waist and holds her against me. My mouth finally decides to join the party too, and starts to kiss her back, my tongue slipping out to touch her lips, gently pushing them apart.
When I do, Mia lets out a low groan that nearly undoes me. My other hand, no longer caring where the coffee table is, drops the beer and slides into her hair, holding her mouth against mine, just as I was imagining. Somewhere in my brain, a voice is telling me that I shouldn’t be doing this, that Mia is only doing this so she doesn’t have to think or talk about what’s going on inside her head. But the bigger part of me doesn’t care, doesn’t care that what I’m really doing is taking advantage of a drunk, frightened girl who really needs to talk. That asshole part of me just wants to kiss her back.
“Jared,” she whispers against my lips.
I groan, my mouth leaving hers as it kisses a path across her jaw and down her neck. Mia’s head falls back, her body leaning slightly away from me and I keep kissing all the way down to the low vee of her sweater. When I get there, my tongue slips out, sliding down under her sweater and between her breasts. Mia groans loudly now, grinding her hips into mine as if to encourage me. I am as hard as a rock and there’s no way I can hide it from her, she’s sitting right on my dick.
Mia’s head suddenly snaps back up, her hands grabbing my cheeks as she starts kissing my mouth again. As I kiss her back, her hands leave my face, reach down and start undoing the buckle of my belt.
“Mia,” I say in a low voice, knowing I really should stop this.
Her fingers somehow get the buckle undone and then they’re popping the button on my jeans and slowly undoing the zipper. I groan, pushing my hips up towards her hand, even though I know I should be doing the complete opposite. But when her hand slips into my boxers and around my dick, I stop thinking altogether. Instead, my eyes flick open, just wanting to see her face, wanting to look at her as she touches me.
“Mia,” I say again, begging her to open her eyes and look at me. Her mouth is kissing mine; my arms are wrapped around her body, one hand under her sweater and touching her warm skin. Mia’s fingers are trying to stroke me and it all feels so fucking good right now. But despite how good it feels, all I want to do is look at her, see what’s in her eyes, see what she’s thinking as she touches me like this.
“Mia,” I say once more, my voice insistent this time.
Her eyes lazily open and try to focus. And that’s when I realise she is drunk, really drunk, drunker than I actually thought. She probably doesn’t even know what she’s doing, isn’t thinking at all. She can’t even focus on me right now, and even though I really want this to happen, I don’t want it to be like this. I want Mia to know what she’s doing, to be fucking sober even. But more than anything I want her to do this because she wants to. Not because she is trying to hide from something she doesn’t want to talk about and not because she is so drunk she doesn’t care what she does. I want her to want to do this with me, for no other reason than she wants me as much as I now realise I want her.
“Mia,” I s
ay one last time, my hands on her shoulders now, pushing her back.
“What?” she slurs, frustrated.
I reach down and pull her hand out from inside my jeans, even though all I want to do is cover it with mine and get it moving again. “You’re drunk, we shouldn’t be doing this.”
She smiles at me now, her hand going back to my crotch as she tries to find a way inside again. “Yes, I am drunk and yes we should.”
I move my hands to her waist this time and hoist her off my lap and onto the couch beside me. She huffs loudly as she says, “Jared, what the fuck, I thought you wanted this?”
I turn to look at her as I attempt to shove my dick back inside my jeans and do them up. I wonder why she thinks that, when I’ve only just realised it myself. I don’t think I’ve been that obvious about it, and God knows it’s the last thing we should be doing. But I answer her anyway, telling her the truth even if she won’t believe me. “Mia, I do. I really do want to, but not like this.”
Mia’s eyes close for a second before she snaps them open. “What’s wrong with like this Jared, what’s wrong with now?” Her words are slurred and I know she probably won’t remember any of this tomorrow morning. And although it will save her from the embarrassment, it will also mean she’ll forget that in her uninhibited state, she actually wanted to do this with me in the first place.
“You’re drunk Mia, you don’t know what you’re doing.”
“Yes I do,” she protests, her eyes closing again as she seems to struggle to stay awake now. “You just don’t want me,” she whispers, a sadness creeping into her voice.
“Mia,” I plead, my hand cupping her cheek as I try to make her understand. “I do want this, want you, you have no idea how much I want it. But not like this,” I tell her. “Not when you have no idea what you’re doing and can barely stay conscious.”
She says nothing, her eyes still closed.
“Mia?” I ask, my thumb stroking her cheek.
She doesn’t answer me, just slumps back against the couch now and actually passes out.
Sighing, I run my hands through my hair and stand up. Fucking hell. The rush of disappointment I get crushes any lingering doubt that maybe I should have just given her what she wanted. Even though it sucks, I know I have made the right decision, and even if she wakes up tomorrow with no memory of what I just said to her, it will have been the right thing to do. But it still doesn’t make me feel any less shitty about the fact that I just turned her down. I turned her down at a time when she needed someone, something to make her feel good, feel wanted. And it does absolutely nothing to the fact that I wanted her and everything she was offering, just as fucking badly.
I do up my belt before I lean down, slide my arms under Mia’s body and pick her up. She doesn’t wake as I hold her against me and I stop for a second, just watching her sleep. She is so fucking beautiful and right now, she looks more vulnerable than ever. Some kind of protective instinct kicks in as I hold her in my arms and in this second, I know I would and will do anything to keep her safe.
Sighing, I slowly walk towards the spare room where I put her to bed, covering her with the blanket. She still doesn’t wake up, curling herself into a ball under the covers. I walk back out to the kitchen and grab her a glass of water before walking back to the spare room where I leave it beside her on the side table. I stand beside the bed for a minute, just watching her sleep and reminding myself that it was the right thing to do. Then I lean down and gently kiss her cheek.
“Don’t ever think that I don’t want you Mia,” I whisper against her skin. “Because I do, more than you’ll ever know.”
Then I quietly walk out of the room and shut the door.
Today, 12:24am – Mia
Ash has gone to bed. I’ve spent the last thirty minutes sitting on the couch by myself, thinking about what she said to me again. She’s right, I know she is. Everything she said makes so much sense, but it still doesn’t make what I have to do any easier. I wish I could just magic the last year away, that I could somehow go back to the day Jared showed up at my door and do everything so differently. But I can’t, there are no do-overs, only second chances and right now, I’m working hard to convince myself to try for that second chance before the only thing that’s left is regret.
Eventually, I get up off the couch and head back to the bathroom. I take a quick shower, thinking about everything that happened in here earlier this evening when Jared and I crashed into each other. I know something is still there between us. It probably never left, certainly not for me and I think not for him either. I know I saw it in his eyes when we were pressed together. Just thinking about how close we’d been makes my skin tingle. When I get out, I tie my wet hair into a messy bun; pull on some sweats and head to my room, leaving the door open so I don’t miss my opportunity.
I’m sitting in here with the light off when I hear Luke and Jared finally come home. My heart immediately starts pounding in my chest and I wonder if I’m really going to be able to do this. The door is still open and I see the two of them walk in and glance around, trying to work out if we’re home or not. I hear Luke say goodnight to Jared, and walk into his room, and then I watch as Jared stands in the living room for a minute, almost as if he’s unsure about what to do. He glances over towards my room and I wonder if he can see me, sitting on the bed, waiting for him. The temptation to call out, to ask him to come in here, is so strong, but the words are stuck in my throat. But I hope, can almost believe, that he is standing there, waiting for me to do it and all I have to do is open my mouth and speak.
Jared starts to move, heading towards my room and all at once, my heart isn’t just pounding in my chest, it’s practically smashing through my ribs. He’s coming in here. He’s seen me waiting for him, heard my silent pleas and he’s doing what I can’t and coming in here. But as he gets closer to the door, I watch as he walks straight past it without so much as a look in my direction. When he reaches his room, he walks in, slamming the door without looking back.
I have to get up off the bed. I have to go in there and talk to him. I have to do this because I want to and I need to.
I want him, I need him. I want what was between us back in the bathroom, even if it was for just one second, I want that back.
God, I miss him. I miss him so badly that it physically hurts. A deep ache, which permanently lives inside my chest, has lived there ever since I pushed him away. I know I’ve messed things up and I know I have a lot to be sorry for, but I want him to know that I am sorry. I want to ask for his forgiveness. I want to try and fix things, no matter how hard it’s going to be.
Move Mia.
I take a deep breath, psyching myself up. “Come on Mia,” I say to the empty room.
I get up off the bed, leave my room and walk over to his bedroom door, flinging it open without even bothering to knock. The door bounces off the wall, startling us both. Jared is half undressed, his shirt on the floor and the top button of his jeans undone, his fingers halfway down the zipper.
“Mia!” he says, straightening but making no move to cover himself up.
It wouldn’t matter anyway. I’ve seen it all before. I’ve seen it, I’ve touched it, I’ve run my fingers, lips and tongue all over it. I’ve known every inch of his body in the best possible way.
And I want to know it that way, all over again.
I take a step towards him, his hands still frozen on his jeans. He’s watching me the whole time. He looks half scared almost, but there’s something else in his eyes too. The same thing I saw back in the bathroom earlier tonight. The same thing I know is in mine right now.
Want.
As I get closer, my eyes drop to the ring that’s threaded through his left nipple. “That’s new,” I whisper, my fingers automatically reaching out to touch it, his nipple hardening as soon as I do.
The groan that comes from Jared’s chest is like nothing I’ve ever heard before and my eyes immediately snap back to his face. His beautiful blue eyes ar
e so dark now, they are almost entirely black pupils, and I can see the pulse of his heart as it beats rapidly along the artery running down the side of his neck. I want to run my tongue along it, want to feel his racing heart against my lips.
“Yeah,” he finally gets out, his voice a low rumble.
My hand drops from his chest, but I don’t move away from him. I picture myself pulling him towards me and putting my mouth around that ring, gently tugging on it with my teeth, sucking on it, kissing it before kissing even lower. My eyes close as the image forms and I take another step towards him.
Jared clears his throat and my eyes snap open again, reality smacking me hard in the face. I know I can’t do that yet; there are things that need to be said first.
“Can we talk, we need to…”
“I need a shower Mia, I need to take a shower,” Jared says, cutting me off. He pulls off his jeans now without even bothering to hide from me as he stands there in his boxer briefs and socks.
I don’t even try to look away, because I can’t. I can’t stop looking at what I want, what I haven’t had, for so long now. What I know I need, more than anything else in the world. My stomach flips at how beautiful he is. Is it possible that he is even more beautiful than I remember?
“Jared…I…”
But I don’t get a chance to finish because he stalks past me and walks out of the room again. Before I can say another word or move another step closer, he walks away. I hear the bathroom door slam shut and I can’t help but wonder if that sound is symbolic. If it’s the sound of him, shutting me out for good. That maybe Ash is wrong and it’s too late to save us and he really isn’t interested in me anymore.
My chest starts to hurt even more, that ache spreading throughout my whole body as I start to realise the full extent of what I’ve done, how much I have hurt him. Back then I thought I was doing the right thing. But now I know, it couldn’t have been more wrong.
