Forever Hearts

by CJ Martín

  “Thanks.” I slip them into my coat pocket. “Does he have a tab?”

  She shakes her head. “No, I closed it out right before I called you.”

  I nod. “Thanks for calling.”

  I turn to walk away, but her voice stops me. “Hey!”

  I turn to face her.

  “I’m not sure what your deal is, but that guy really loves you.”

  I nod rather than say aloud what I’m thinking: Then what the fuck is he doing here?

  45

  Riley

  Jesse dozes in the front seat on the forty-minute drive back to my apartment. I contemplated dropping him back at his place but I didn’t want him to be alone in case he got sick.

  When I pull into the parking space behind my apartment building, his eyes pop open. He scrubs one hand over his face as I say, “We’re home.”

  We both walk toward the building, calmly and quietly, and I notice that he seems to have sobered up. His movements are much less jerky, more fluid.

  Even though I know we should wait to have this conversation until he’s stone-cold sober, I can’t stop myself. “What the fuck were you thinking?” I attack as soon as the front door is closed.

  He doesn’t say anything, just continues to lock the deadbolt.

  “Jesse.” I call his name to gain his attention, then again, louder. “Jes.”

  “What?” He cuts his eyes to me in annoyance. “What do you want me to say?”

  “For starters, why the hell would you go out to a bar with everything that’s going on?”

  He doesn’t respond, so I continue. “And where the hell were Kyle and Matt?”

  His brows pinch together in confusion. “At home, I guess.”

  Now it’s my turn to be confused. “You said you were going out with the guys after basketball.”

  “No I didn’t.” He shakes his head. “I went by myself.”

  My mouth hangs open. “I guess I just assumed…Jesse.” My voice rises as I continue. “Talk to me. Tell me what the hell is going on!”

  “You wouldn’t understand,” he says, as he brushes past me on the way to the kitchen, but my hand reaches out to stop him.

  “That’s not fair.” My voice is hot, angry. “We’re supposed to be in this together. How can I be there for you when you keep shutting me out?”

  He spins to face me. “Maybe I don’t want you to be there for me!”

  I recoil as though he’s hit me. “What?” He doesn’t want me. After everything… I knew this was too good to be true. Knew this would never work.

  He must notice the tremble of my lip, because his eyes soften and he reaches his hand out to smooth my hair behind my ear. “I’m sorry.”

  I nod and close my eyes, willing myself not to cry. What the hell is happening to us?

  “I love you, Riley. I want you to know I’d do anything for you. Even if it doesn’t seem that way at the time, I just want what’s best for you.”

  My eyes snap open. “Jesse, what are you talking about? You’re scaring me.”

  “Don’t be scared, baby.” He kisses my mouth once, gently, and then loops his arm beneath my knees and scoops me into his arms.

  “Jesse.” I sigh into his neck. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m loving you, Riley. I’m going to love you.”

  46

  Jesse

  Riley’s auburn hair fans across the pillow as I lay her down on the bed. Dipping my head close, I inhale the citrus scent of her shampoo that I’ve grown to love because it reminds me of waking up next to her. Fuck, I’m going to miss it. Going to miss her. I already called my dad, made the arrangements to start full-time in his mechanic shop. I leave tomorrow.

  Riley has no idea. I thought it’d be easier this way—for both of us—because if she begged me with those emerald green eyes to stay, I’d never have the courage to walk away.

  My head is so fucked up. My heart wants to spend every possible second with her, but my mind tells me to push her further away to make tomorrow less painful. But all the alcohol in the world couldn’t numb my feelings for her. Couldn’t take the pain away.

  Her hand reaches up to cup my face, her fingers drag across the stubble of my jaw. “You need to shave.” She smiles in the darkness.

  “I know,” I say, as I scrape my face against her palm. I bring my eyes back to hers. “I love you, Riley.”

  Her warm breath whispers across my face. “I love you, too.”

  “I want to give you everything.” My voice is tight as I struggle to keep my emotions under control.

  She places her hand over my heart. “You already have.”

  My eyes feel suspiciously wet, and I absolutely won’t allow myself to cry right now, so I kiss her instead. My lips press against hers, soft and warm. I kiss her with everything I have, everything I am, everything I feel inside.

  My movements are slow, unhurried, and if I could, I’d stop time and live this moment forever.

  “Jesse.” She sighs my name as my hands skim underneath her shirt, over the soft, smooth skin of her stomach.

  “You’re perfect, Riley,” I whisper as I kiss her ear, down her jaw, over her long, graceful neck. “You’ve always been perfect.” My hands crawl upward, reach the underside of her breasts, and skim back and forth. She gasps in pleasure.

  “Jesse.” Her hands pull me closer but she doesn’t rush or hurry. It’s as if she knows this is our last time.

  “Want. You. Naked.” I punctuate each word with a kiss. “I need to see you.” And it’s true. I need to see her one last time so I can memorize every inch, every detail, every curve, every freckle, every scar.

  She pushes me back, sits up and reaches for the hem of her shirt. Her eyes never leave mine as she drops it from the edge of the bed. Next, she shimmies her pants and panties down in one fluid movement. My eyes draw over her body, starting at the dip in her collarbone, over her full, round breasts, down her smooth, flat belly, to her center, where’s she’s shaved bare. Fuck me.

  “Your turn,” she whispers, but I’m too awestruck to move. She reaches for my t-shirt and pulls it overhead, and somehow my arms follow. “These, too.” Her fingers tug the waistband of my gym shorts.

  When we’re both naked, I settle over her. I don’t move at first, just feel her soft skin pressed against my own, lighting me on fire. My dick twitches against her and she mewls in delight.

  “I want to feel you.” She breathes against my ear as her fingers knead my ass.

  I rub my dick against her, coat myself in her slickness. A ripple of pleasure rolls through me, and I groan into her hair. “Christ, Ry. You feel amazing.”

  I nuzzle her neck, shifting my hips again, and this time my tip hits her clit. “Fuck, Jesse.” Her voice breaks.

  I continue to slide against her, over and over, until I’m sure we’re both about to come. My hands and mouth are everywhere—from her breasts, to her neck, to her thighs. I can’t get enough, have come to the realization that no amount of time will ever be enough.

  “Please.” She pulls my mouth away from her breasts. “No more.”

  Smiling, I kiss her again before sliding down her body. I bury my face between her legs and lick a slow line from top to bottom.

  “Fuck,” she curses, fingers spearing my hair. “I’m gonna come. I’m so close.”

  “Baby,” I whisper between licks before adding my fingers, one to start, then two. I pump my fingers slowly, lazily, a direct contrast to the way my tongue works her clit.

  We don’t speak after that. Just feel. Deft fingers tease and play. Pinch and twist, and finally, finally slide all the way inside her, stretching her open in the most glorious of ways. Moments later, without warning, she shatters. Her fingers grab my head so hard it’s a wonder she doesn’t tear my hair out.

  Before she’s even had a chance to come down, I slide inside her. A long, deep thrust that buries me to the hilt. I remain still, and take a deep, calming breath as she pulses around me.

  “Riley.”
Her name falls from my lips, and along with it, other words that I can’t seem to stop. “You’re my everything. I love you so much. I don’t want to lose you. Please. I need you.” I continue to pump my hips, letting all the pent-up emotion overtake me. “I need you.”

  “Hey.” She pushes me back gently. I roll to the side and cover my face, embarrassed by the sheen of my eyes and the shitload of emotion I just dumped on her. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

  I nod, unable to meet her eyes, but she grabs my face and forces me to look at her. “Everything’s going to be fine,” she repeats, eyes wide and honest and so damn hopeful that I nearly break down and tell her everything.

  She nudges me backward until I’m lying flat on my back, and she straddles my hips. “Now, tell me what you need tonight.”

  “Anything.” I groan as she grips me at the base and begins to ease down onto me. “I want anything you’ll give me.”

  “Everything,” she whispers, bringing her lips to meet mine. “You can have everything.”

  She rides me slowly, so slowly that I can feel every gentle tug, every smooth glide as I sink back in. This isn’t fucking or even making love. This is her giving herself to me: heart, body and soul.

  I take it all, memorize every single moment, knowing this is the last time I’ll ever be inside her, the last time I’ll watch the flush creep across her chest, or her eyes flutter closed, or her lips part in pleasure.

  I sit up, wrap my arms around her and pull her close, burying my face in her hair. My hips slam up to meet hers, and she groans long and low in my ear. “Jesse.” Her fingers pierce my hair.

  Knowing she’s close, I drop my hand between us, drag my fingers across her clit. Her body tenses immediately, and she begins rocking faster.

  “Jesse.” She moans my name again. “God, just like that.”

  I don’t stop, wanting to give her every pleasure imaginable, wanting her to always remember this moment, wanting her to remember me. And only when she finds her release, when her muscles stiffen and her toes curl, when she turns her head and bites my shoulder, her body clamping around my cock like a goddamn vise, do I follow her over the edge, emptying inside her, allowing her body to milk me in the absolute best possible way. “Riley.”

  We stay like that—connected—for a long time. I kiss her eyelids, her cheeks, her nose, her clavicle, the dip between her breasts. I want her to know she’s precious. Special. Loved.

  And only when she yawns and wiggles against my hips and says she’s tired, do I let her move. But I hold her all night, pressing my heart to hers. I hope one day she’ll be able to understand and to forgive, but mostly I’m hoping she’ll always know how much I love her and how much I always will.

  47

  Riley

  When I wake up the next morning, Jesse’s gone. There are no obvious signs, other than he isn’t physically present, but the apartment feels cold and empty. I make the bed, something I never do, but deep down I know I’m stalling for time because I know he’s gone for good.

  Don’t ask me how I know, because I don’t think I can put it into words. Mostly it’s the twisted knot that’s been in my stomach since Jesse agreed to take the probation deal thirteen days ago.

  A quick scan of my apartment confirms my suspicions. His toothbrush no longer rests alongside mine in the cup, his black duffle bag is no longer slung over the dining room chair, and his grey hoodie no longer hangs on the peg.

  With a sick feeling, I walk into the kitchen where a scribbled note lies on the counter. I read it three times before crumpling it and throwing it into the trashcan.

  Five words. Seventeen years of friendship, of love, of memories, and all I get—all I’m worthy of—are five words.

  I’m sorry. I love you.

  But he doesn’t love me. He couldn’t possibly, because you don’t run away from someone you love. You don’t turn your back on someone you say you care about more than anything in the world. You don’t leave a note on a half-torn takeout menu. You don’t leave. Period.

  The walls begin to close in around me, and I slide in my sock-bottomed feet onto the floor. Why would he do this now after we only just started?

  I wrap my arms around my bent knees, as crocodile tears form beneath my eyelids and slowly begin to slide down my cheeks. No, I tell myself. He wouldn’t leave. He wouldn’t.

  Dragging my sleeve across my nose, I crawl on all fours toward the table where my cell is charging. I tug on the wire and catch my phone right before it hits the ground. Through tears, I dial his number, but it doesn’t ring. When his voicemail picks up, when I hear his recorded voice—This is Jesse. Leave a message.—I throw my phone in frustration.

  He can’t shut me out. He can’t ignore me. He can’t make me go away.

  I love him. He made me love him. He can’t leave me now.

  My mom intervenes a week later. She finds me curled in bed with the covers pulled overhead. I haven’t showered in eight days. I haven’t opened the blinds. Or gone to my classes. I’ve barely eaten. All I do—all I’m capable of— is calling and texting Jesse. He still hasn’t returned any of my messages.

  He’s safe—of that much I can be sure—because I checked his bank account and he made several purchases at various gas stations along the East coast. My best guess is he’s heading to North Carolina to visit his dad, but I don’t know why. He was supposed to start his probationary period five days ago.

  “Riley.” My mom’s voice infiltrates the safe haven of sheets and blankets.

  “Go away.” I grapple for the blankets as she tries to snatch them away.

  “Riley Ann.” Her voice grows sterner. “Get out of bed this instant.”

  I squint as she peels back the curtain and the morning sun shines in. “Shit,” I curse. “How did you get in here, anyway?”

  She moves to the other window and opens it. “Your landlord gave me a key.”

  “He can’t do that!” I shout, stumbling out of bed. “That’s illegal.”

  “Being that my name is on the lease as a co-signer, I highly doubt that.”

  Fuck. “Why are you here?” I run a hand through my oily, tangled hair.

  “Liza called me.”

  That bitch.

  “And I’m glad she did, seeing the state you’re in.” She peers at me, at Jesse’s dirty grey Jordan t-shirt that I found in the hamper and have been wearing for the past seven days. “When is the last time you bathed, Riley?”

  I shrug.

  “What’s going on?” She carefully balances on the edge of the bed. “Liza said you haven’t been in class all week and that you’re not returning her calls.”

  I shrug again.

  “Riley Ann.” My mom’s voice rises. “You’re scaring me. Are you sick? Are you hurt? Are you all right?”

  “No, Mom.” I shake my head slowly as the tears begin to stream down my cheeks. “I’m not all right.”

  48

  Riley

  I tell my mom everything I know, which let’s face it, isn’t a lot. She listens carefully but doesn’t say much other than a gentle nod or murmur of agreement.

  It takes my mom over twenty minutes to convince me to take a shower. I finally agree but only if she promises to not change the bed sheets, because they still smell like him. She agrees, but when I return to my bedroom, the bed is freshly made and the old sheets—Jesse’s sheets—are gone.

  “Mom,” I cry, already walking toward the kitchen to where I hear water running. “Mom. Where are my sheets?”

  She stands in front of the sink, hands encased in rubber gloves as she scrubs the mountain of dishes that I’ve neglected to clean. “In the wash.”

  “You promised!” I scream, surprised by the anger flowing through my veins.

  She turns off the faucet and takes off the gloves. “Riley.”

  “How dare you?” I slam my fist against the table. “You had no right to do that.”

  She holds her hands up as she approaches. “Riley, sit down.”

>   “What?” I yell. “Don’t tell me what to do. I’m not a child!”

  My mom’s voice rises considerably. “You’re acting like a child.”

  “This is my apartment.” Technically, it’s hers, too, since my parents help me pay for the rent, but whatever.

  “Sit down.” She speaks more firmly as she loses her patience. When I don’t immediately sit, she narrows her eyes.

  Begrudgingly, I pull out the stool and drop my head onto the counter.

  She sits on the stool next to me. “I talked to Ms. Collins.”

  I jump forward. “What? When? What did she say? Is Jesse okay?”

  My mom closes her eyes. “Yes, Jesse is okay.”

  The relief hits me all at once, and I begin to sob, ugly, loud cries. My mom pulls me into her embrace and rubs my back, soothingly. “Honey, he’s fine. He’s with his dad in North Carolina.”

  I lean away. “Why? What’s he doing there?”

  My mom takes both my hands in hers. “Honey, he’s living there. He’s arranged to complete his one-year probation using his dad’s address.”

  “No.” I snatch my hands away. “That doesn’t make sense. Why would he do that?”

  She releases a long, slow breath, and it whispers across my skin. “I don’t know.” She purses her lips. “Did you two have a fight?”

  I shake my head. “No, Mom, we didn’t fight. The night before, we—” I stop myself before I say had sex. “When I woke up he was gone.”

  Her brows pull together in thought.

  “There has to be an explanation.” I stand and pace around the small, circular island. “You don’t just decide to drop out of someone’s life forever.”

  My mom nods her head. “Maybe you should give him some space. The assault charges are serious…maybe he’s scared.”

  She might be right, but if he’s scared, why did he run away? He had me. I was there for him. I’d support him no matter what.