Yet here I was… going home after spending the evening with friends. Fucking friends! And not just friends, but someone I considered to be my new best friend. I hadn’t had one of those since I was fourteen – before I destroyed everything.
And you know what? It feels fan-fucking-tastic.
Chapter Twelve
Emily
I woke up with a severe crook in my neck and the very first thing I wondered was where had Dexter gone. The second was who had covered me over with the blanket my nanna knitted for me before she died.
Rubbing my neck I sat up and looked around for signs of life. Jared was curled up on the floor, though I’m not sure that counted as a sign of life. After exhaling a rather impressive yawn and stretching my stiff arms above my head I stood up and headed to Rachel’s room.
“Go. A. Way,” she growled the second I opened her door. Great. Ordinary Rachel was hard enough to deal with in the mornings, but Rachel with a hangover? That’s someone I learned a long time to steer well clear of. Keeping silent, I closed the door as quietly as I could. Then I turned and knocked on my own.
“Leave me alone,” Chris grumbled through the wood. Well wasn’t this awesome? Looked like I was in for such good company today.
I huffed all the way through my shower, and whined to myself through getting dressed. I was bored, lonely and in an excessively bad mood. I tried to distract myself with clearing up the mess they’d all made last night, but our flat was so small it was done in under twenty minutes. Then I decided to watch some telly, but couldn’t get to the remote because Jared was passed out on top of it.
I huffed again and then purposely knocked a book from the shelf above the couch, hoping that it would wake somebody up. It was then I realised a giant train crashing through the walls of the building wouldn’t disturb these guys.
Usually when I felt like this I would either find something fun to do with Rachel or call Chris. But seeing as they were both comatose just a few feet away from me I was just going to have to deal with the insane boredom on my own.
“”Ah fuck I’m gonna throw up,” I heard Jared groan – already divebombing to the bathroom.
Sod this. No way was I spending what should be a relaxing Sunday surrounded by bad moods and vomit.
Me: R U busy? X
I waited nervously for Dexter’s reply, hoping he didn’t think I was becoming clingy. I’d hate to be that friend who pestered the hell out of you but you were too polite to tell them no.
Dexter: Just getting ready for my run. U OK?
He runs? Of course he does. A body like Dexter’s doesn’t just happen by the grace of God.
Me: I’m fine. Was just a little bored. Enjoy your run :-)
If I was honest with myself I was kind of disappointed. I must’ve gotten myself excited about spending time with him without even realising it. How stupid was that?
Dexter: Come with me?
Okay so that wasn’t the kind of time I would’ve gotten excited about spending with him.
Me: I can’t run x
Or at least I didn’t want to. Especially with someone as fit as Dexter. I doubt I could outrun him to the bathroom.
Dexter: Sure you can. It’s like walking. Only faster. ;-)
I smiled at his reply. He was being playful and it made me giggle like some pathetic thirteen year old with a crush.
Me: Maybe another time x
I was lying through my bum cheeks of course. There was no way he would ever convince me to go with him. I kept my phone in my hand while I waited for his reply but it never came. Again, it disappointed me and that made me angry with myself that I’d become so desperate for company. I didn’t like being alone though. I never have. I spent too many days crying all alone in my room as a kid because I had no one to play with and my mum was too busy. I suppose that’s why Rachel and Chris have always been on call whenever I’m bored.
When the disgusting sound of the third bout of hurling came from the bathroom I knew I had to go somewhere. Anywhere. So after dragging my trainers on I picked up the keys for my car and strolled towards the door. I had nowhere in mind which usually meant I’d end up at the supermarket. Maybe I could grab some breakfast from the café while I was there.
“Steady, doll,” Dexter said, making me squeal as he steadied my shoulders with both hands. I opened the door while checking the time on my phone, obviously not expecting anyone to be standing there – hence the smacking straight into him at full force.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, confused and probably more standoffish than I’d intended.
“I’m taking you running. So get your ass back inside and change,” he ordered.
“I’m not running with you,” I protested. As much as I tried to stop myself I couldn’t help staring at how distinctive his muscles were through his tight-fitting t-shirt. Then I caught them… the sweat soaking through the thin white fabric had made it transparent enough to make out two perfectly round rings dangling from a place I shouldn’t be looking. The only way to cool my cheeks down right now was to close my eyes and swallow… hard.
He must’ve thought I was crazy.
I thought I was crazy.
“Yes you are. Now change.”
“No.”
“Don’t make me strip you naked right here in the doorway and change you myself.” He wouldn’t. Would he?
“Dexter, please. I haven’t ran since I was a kid.”
“No shit. Maybe you should start and tighten those thighs of yours up. Might stop ‘em wobbling when you walk,” he teased. He better had’ve been anyway. “Look, seriously… you said you were bored. I’ve come to make you un-bored. We can just walk if you want. But you can’t send me away when I’ve ran all this way to see you now can you?”
I looked past him and out on to the street for his bike. There was definitely no bike in the vicinity.
“You ran here? But you only texted me like fifteen minutes ago!”
“I’m a fast runner,” he replied nonchalantly. This was exactly what I was afraid of. It would take me four days to run as far as Dexter’s building. “I’ll wait here all day, doll. You might as well get it over with.” So this was what wanting to punch someone felt like?
“Fine,” I snapped, huffing for the billionth time this morning. “Wait inside if you want.” Grinning wickedly like the Cheshire Cat, he brushed passed me and walked over to the couch. How did he get me to agree to this?
It took me half an hour to change into some leggings and a white v-neck tee. It wasn’t so much the clothes, but finding a bra that would keep my boobs from jiggling too much. I could practically hear Rachel laughing in the back of my head while I did it. Yes, they may be small but they certainly have jiggle potential if put under pressure.
Stepping out into the cool October air, I couldn’t believe I was about to do this. I was going to die today. I could feel it.
Chapter Thirteen
Dexter
Holy fuck. This was a stupid plan. The second Emily stepped outside in clothes that clung so perfectly to her tiny frame, I knew this wasn’t going to help with my aim to just be her friend.
FRIEND. FRIEND. FRIEND. I repeated silently in my head when it became painstakingly obvious my eyes weren’t gonna shift from her body no matter much I told them to.
She’d scraped her vivid-red hair up into a ponytail which swished bouncily below her shoulder blades whenever she moved. She didn’t have any make-up on. She didn’t need it. She had skin as flawless as the chicks on the Maybelline commercials only hers was natural. She was the most beautiful fucking thing I’d ever seen.
FRIEND. FRIEND. FRIEND.
“Right, let’s get you stretched,” I said when we’d walked a few steps along the sidewalk. She looked at me like I’d just told her I ate dead kittens for breakfast.
“That sounds painful.”
“Just do what I do,” I replied. I took extra long to complete all my moves, taking hold of her and guiding her into position when she looked like she was struggl
ing. I stopped when an unfamiliar and more importantly, unsettling feeling washed through me. I’d fucked so many girls in my life I lost count years ago… yet nothing had ever felt as intimate as this moment with Emily.
And for that, I felt insanely fucking guilty.
“Follow me,” I said, trying not to let the anger I felt with myself seep into my voice. Then I set off into a slow sprint. So slow I’d class it as fast walking, but I wanted to ease her in gently.
A half-mile down the road and she was showing no signs of lagging so I picked up the pace a little. Then, as if it were a game she overtook me and now it was me who was struggling to breathe. The blood in my veins felt warmer – burning me from the inside out. I kept pulling my eyes away but they just kept falling back to most pert little ass I’d ever seen in my life. After that they trailed upwards, honing in on the delicate glisten of sweat starting to form on her neck and all I could think about was tasting it.
“I need a rest,” I called out to her. I couldn’t watch her run for another second if I wanted to keep the cum in my dick.
“Seriously? I was just getting into it!”
“You need to take it easy your first time. You might be into it now but you’ll be stiff as fuck in the morning.” Pretty much like I am right now. “Let’s grab a drink in there and then we’ll make our way back,” I suggested, pointing towards a rundown café across the street.
She agreed easily, just like she always does. I hope that changes in time. It leaves her wide open for people to let her down. People like me to let her down.
We only stopped briefly. Just long enough to down a couple of sodas and exchange some idle chitchat. She mentioned needing to find a job and picking up an application for Starbucks yesterday but wasn’t sure if the hours would tie in well enough with studying. I didn’t say anything in case it failed to materialize but we sure as hell needed someone else at the pub so I planned to ask Mick about it tonight. The hours would fit, she’d already know people (because I knew meeting new people was difficult for her) and I’d get extra time to spend staring at… I mean getting to know her.
Emily was reluctant to go home and face the house of hangover hell so we jogged back to mine. We were nearer there anyway so it made perfect sense. I was dripping with sweat by the time we reached my building (Em was barely glistening) so I hopped straight in the shower to clean myself up, leaving Emily free to make herself at home.
Once I’d changed I found Emily flipping through the magazines under my glass coffee table.
“Wow you really read some rubbish don’t you?” she said as I entered the room.
“Well I’m open to suggestions if you can recommend anything better.”
“Nah. I doubt you’d like what I read. Unless you’re looking for a hot new guy to fall in love with?”
“I’ll try anything once,” I teased, shrugging. She let out my favorite sound in the world and giggled as she rolled her eyes at me.
“I made us some coffee. Hope you don’t mind.” I followed her gaze towards the table and noticed two steaming white mugs sitting in the center. It felt… satisfying, knowing she was comfortable here.
“Course not,” I assured. “Thanks.”
I sat down next to her and took a generous sip of coffee. It was perfect – white with the ideal amount of sugar. How the hell did she know that?
“You sore yet?”
“No,” she lied. I knew she was lying because she wouldn’t look me in the eye.
“Here, gimme your feet.” She widened those big blue eyes and weighed me up like I’d just asked for permission to rape her or something. “Come on,” I reiterated, patting my lap.
“I’ve not showered,” she barely whispered, glancing at me for a fraction of a second.
“So I’ll hold my breath.” Lucky I’ve got fast reflexes or the magazine she just threw at me would’ve smacked me right in the mouth. “Just gimme your damn feet, woman,” I mock scolded. Nibbling at her lip she gave in and swung her legs up onto my knees.
“Oooh…” she trailed off, closing her eyes when I began kneading the soles of her feet. I wondered if she’d make noises as delicious as that in the bedroom. Then I mentally punched myself in the balls to snap me out of it.
“Good?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“Mmmhmm.” Her eyes were still closed so I was free to stare at her porcelain face – watching intently as every ounce of tension melted away from it. I rubbed a little firmer over her heels, then softened my touch again as I smoothed my palms over her lower leg and knotted the pads of my fingers into her calves.
I had my MP3 player on shuffle quietly in the background and just then Cough Syrup by Young the Giant started playing.
“Ooo I love this song,” Emily murmured – eyes still closed and body relaxing more by the second.
“Really?” I uttered in reply. I didn’t think they were that well known – especially over here. Plus, aren’t girls usually into One Direction and that kind of shit?
“Yeah. They covered it on Glee once. I have it on my phone, I listen to it all the time.” Great. She’d just ruined one of my favorite songs of all time. Freakin’ Glee. Otherwise known as the TV show that massacres brilliant songs on a weekly basis.
I continued to massage Emily into a blissfully relaxed puddle of mush while she sang softly along to the lyrics. Wow. The sound made my heart sputter. She sounded adorable – perfect. Maybe the song wasn’t ruined after all. Actually, I’m pretty sure it was my new favorite.
“Was it scary? In rehab I mean?” Whoa, where the hell did that come from? It was weird when she asked because strangely, I didn’t try to think of a lie to spin her.
“Not as scary as where I was headin’,” I admitted honestly.
“You want to talk about it?” I choked on my own breath and tried to disguise it as a cough. No one had ever asked me that before. I’ve never wanted anyone to ask me that before. But you know what? Yes. Yes I did want to talk about it.
“I’ve done a lot of bad shit, doll. I just don’t know if you’re ready to hear it. I don’t wanna risk what we have going on here.” What did we have going on here? “This… friendship.” Yeah, that sounded convincing. Didn’t it?
“You think that little of me?” she asked, sounding offended. I shook my head no.
“No. No I don’t,” I answered honestly. It made absolutely no freakin’ sense to me but I trusted this girl more than anyone.
“So? Try me.”
Here goes nothin’…
“I was a mess, doll. I don’t know how I ever allowed myself to get dragged so far under.” Christ was I really doing this? Was I really exposing myself so brutally? “I started drinking when I was fifteen. Trying to black out some of the shit I’d been through I guess.” As liberating as this felt, that was all she was getting out of me regarding that part of my life.
“Didn’t seem like a big deal at first. I’d get wasted at parties, with friends, that kind of thing. Then before I knew it I was hiding spirits in my locker at school, under the bed at home…” I trailed off, taking a much-needed gulp of air. “That lasted all the way through high school but somehow it still didn’t seem enough to me. So after dropping out of college I started working my way in with the wrong crowd and when they offered me my first line I didn’t hesitate to say yes.”
The only time I had ever been this honest was with my therapist back in Ohio. It felt exonerating, and so even though I knew Emily would either hear me out or bolt as fast she could… I vowed to keep going.
“The first couple of times felt amazing. I felt powerful and free. The past, the future… they didn’t matter – I couldn’t even see them anymore. All I had to focus on was how fucking fantastic I felt in that very moment.
“But after that it wasn’t having the same effect so I took a little more. Few times later a little more… then more, then… well you get the picture. You build up a tolerance without even realizing and that’s how it gets you. It devours you entirely… m
aking you need it. Need more of it. I couldn’t focus without it anymore. If I wasn’t using I couldn’t think straight. I was confused, and shaky, and so fucking angry,” I growled, remembering how intense those emotions felt as if it were just this morning.
“I lashed out at everyone. Didn’t think twice about knocking out anyone who got in my way.” I risked a glance into Emily’s eyes, certain there must be at least a hint of revulsion there. So when she took hold of my hand which was settled on her knee and squeezed it gently, I was taken aback to say the least.
This ought to change her opinion of me…
“Eventually I was in too deep. I needed the shit more often than I could afford so I started stealing. I’d take from my Aunt’s purse when she wasn’t looking at first. It helped, but she’s hardly rolling in it and I was sucked so far under it just wasn’t enough. So I turned to stores, selling stuff on to make the cash I needed. Then in the end… I was caught for breaking and entering.”
“Jesus. That must have been so hard for you,” she said with genuine sincerity. It pissed me off and unintentionally, I snapped at her.
“Are you for fucking real right now?”
“I-I’m sorry, Dex. I just-”
“No. No I’m sorry,” I interjected. What the fuck was I playing at? Yelling at the only person (apart from Aunt Sarah) who’s shown any ounce of faith in me in what must be years. “It’s just… I don’t deserve your sympathy, doll. I screwed up a lot of people with my actions, and there’s no one to blame but myself,” I added gravely.
“So what happened to make you want to change?” she asked carefully.
“I didn’t. I fought tooth and fucking nail not to go to that damn place. I genuinely didn’t think I had a problem. It was everyone else with their heads up their asses, not me. I couldn’t see it. I couldn’t see anything that mattered anymore. You wanna know the most fucked up part of that? Sometimes I miss that feeling.” Now that little nugget of information there, I really had never shared with a single soul. Not Aunt Sarah, not my therapist… fuck I don’t think I’d even admitted it to myself until that moment.
Take My Hand Page 11
