I sat up, and leaned my back on the headboard. "They are?" What kind of news was this? Should I be happy? Should I be sad? What was I supposed to feel? Should I even care?
"Yup." I could imagine May with a proud smile and nodding her head. "Like all the time. Mostly when they think no one is around. Today it had something to do with their baby's name. June didn't like what Delaney picked, by the sound of it, but she insisted."
I had to ask. "What name did she pick?"
"Kathy. With a 'k.' She repeated over and over that it had to start with a 'k' and not a 'c.' What's up with that? To be honest, I thought she would have picked something else like Rihanna or Bella..."
May kept on talking, but I'd lost interest as soon as I heard the name. Kathy. It wasn't hers. It was another thing that she wished to steal from me. That was my future daughter's name. I'd mentioned it to June several times. But I'd never told her. Was this something they'd talked about while they were cheating behind my back? Kathy was a heroine of my favorite books, "Never Let Me Go." I'd read the masterpiece years ago. Nica had purchased the book and had left it at home when she'd left for school. The dog-eared hardcover still sat on a shelf in my bedroom. Delaney had never touched a book in her life, even for book reports. June had seen me read it, and I had even read passages to him before. He'd known about the book. He'd known about the name. He'd told Delaney, and of course, she had to have it. The name meant nothing to her, just like our years of friendship.
I couldn't breathe. The tension rose and blurred my vision. My fingers and toes numbed. When would their betrayal end? I dropped my phone on the bedding, and once again, caught my own reflection in the mirror. I wanted freedom from this. I wanted to forget the hurt. I had to feel something else other than the pain they'd constantly inflicted on me, even though I was miles away. And I knew where I could get that solace. That peace.
After I gathered my bearings, I punched the address on the GPS on the dashboard panel of the car Nica had given me permission to use. I assumed, since I still had the keys, I was still allowed to use it whenever. I'd gotten lost a couple of times on my way, but the GPS led me where I wanted to be.
Three knocks was all it took for Zach to open the door. He rubbed sleep from his eyes. There he stood in front of me just like the way I'd left him earlier, in his sweatpants and nothing else. His hair spiked in different directions. He'd chosen to stay in, for which I was thankful for, rather than catch up with his friends.
"Maggie?" His voice was gravelly. Like a magnet, it pulled me toward him.
I kissed him.
I shoved my fingers through his wayward hair, and pressed my body against the planes of his torso. I didn't want a breadth between us. To achieve the height I needed, I stood on my tiptoes. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and continued to push and pull at his hair. With a slip of my tongue, I coaxed his into my mouth. I devoured him.
Zach responded.
He met my every push, and groaned at every pull. His hands roamed all over me, producing foreign sounds from my mouth and sensations from my body, some new and unfamiliar, and some old but different. His hips met mine, pressing his hard-on where I needed it most. It created frisson which shot through from the very ends of my hair to the epicenter of my desire. He kissed with a passion I hadn't known existed. It tingled down to the tips of my toes, rendering my legs weak and useless. I sagged against him.
When we finally came up for breath, my name came out in a hush between his lips, "Maggie." He searched my eyes...for answers? For permission?
"Zach, please. I need to feel..." I couldn't finish. I couldn't admit this was all I could think of to replace the pain. Zach was here, with me. I could touch him. I could feel him. I could taste him.
Would he betray me the way June had? I didn't know. Would he steal my heart and leave it crushed in pieces? I wasn't sure. But he was here now. And he could make me forget.
With a brush through his hair, I urged him to meet my lips again. There was a second of hesitation.
"Please," I begged, with my eyes closed, my forehead touching his and the heat of his breath fired up the burn in me.
It was all the answer he needed. In one swoop, Zach picked me up and carried me with ease. I kept my eyes closed, lulled by the sway of his swagger. It wasn't until my head hit the pillow and my body touched the cool sheets that I'd opened my eyes to a dim bedroom. He didn't waste a minute. Zach let his lips wander over every inch of my exposed skin. He blew a breath over the side of my waist as he tugged my pajama pants off. His fingers skimmed along the elastic of my panties. And when he pressed his open mouth on my center, lightning spread through my veins. I shattered.
His hands made their way up my trembling stomach and underneath my shirt. I hadn't bothered wearing my bra, and the roughness of his fingertips met with the sensitive parts of my breasts. He kneaded and cupped me. And with very little strength, ripped my shirt to expose me to him.
I needed this, I reminded myself.
My heart drummed under my heaving chest. I arched my back to meet his lips, letting him taste me more. I released the grip I had on the sheets and held tightly onto his back. I splayed my fingers over the hardness of his lower back and spread them down to his buttocks. I squeezed, and he pressed himself to me. What I imagined to be courage caused me to play with the band of his sweatpants. And then I slipped my hands under, feeling nothing but heated skin. I left one hand on his right cheek, and trailed the other to the front.
Zach raised his head and hissed. "Maggie," he said over and over while I worked him under the soft cotton pants. He was harder than I expected, and much bigger than... No, I refused to think of him.
I wanted this. "Make me forget, Zach." My words were barely whispers, and they fought with his loud pants.
Zach shook his head. "I need... I have to get..." He stilled my hand with his, and under the dim light, I could see the fervor in his eyes. "I need to get protection, Maggie." He squeezed his eyes shut before slowly pulling my hands out of his pants and pressing my arms against my hips. "I'll be back."
Zach kissed my right shoulder, my neck, and my lips before he stood and left the bedroom.
I panted in the dark.
I needed this.
I wanted this.
Zach would make me forget.
I could hear him outside the bedroom, opening and closing doors and drawers and swearing. He was looking for protection. Something I hadn't thought of using when I was with June. Something June hadn't thought of when we'd been together that one night. Had he ever used protection with Delaney? Had she used it with the other guys she'd been with?
"Oh God," I choked out. What if he hadn't? What if she hadn't? What if there were other things I needed to worry about than forgetting their betrayal? Or stealing my baby name?
I turned my body to one side, curled in a fetal position and shivered. And all the built-up emotions came pouring out of me. I couldn't stop the tears from coming. I couldn't stop the sobs from ringing out in the dark room.
Chapter Eleven
Zach
I tasted passion between her lips. Desire coursed through her touch. I hadn't imagined it. The truth was in the way she moved, molded, melted with me, in the way she sighed and moaned.
My hands shook as I opened another drawer in the bathroom. All my blood had targeted on one area. The rest of me was numb, possibly including my brain, while I sorted through cabinets and drawers in search of a condom. Then it hit me, Travis would have a bunch. He always had a box or two stuffed in his luggage. He claimed he'd rather be prepared than sorry. I'd never brought one because chasing tail was never my goal these days.
I hit the lights in the bathroom and passed my slightly ajar bedroom door, about to tell Maggie it would only take another moment, and I would make it all worth her wait, when I heard her undeniable loud sobs. My heart plummeted.
Did I hurt her?
Was this not what she'd wanted? Did I read the situation wrong?
All thought
s of the search for a condom escaped me, and I approached Maggie, slowly, carefully. Her body curled away from me. The mattress groaned as I put my entire weight on it, sitting awkwardly beside one sobbing girl.
"Maggie?" I reached out to touch her, but I thought better of it, and let my hand hover over her right hip. Had I thought wrong? Had I been delusional? Disillusioned by my own desires for her that I hadn't stopped to think what she'd really wanted from me? She was hurt, and I did what? I practically forced myself to her. I bit the inside of my cheek to stop from cursing myself, and said her name again in the semi-darkened room, "Maggie."
She half-turned. Her eyes, red-rimmed and puffy, welled with tears. Then she went back to crying in her hands again. What had I done?
I couldn't help myself, I had to touch her, comfort her in some way. First, I pulled the sheet over her. Then with my body stretched along hers, I wrapped her in my arms and urged her to turn to me. My lips ghosted over her hair. "Maggie, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking properly. I thought...I thought...."
She shook her head. Her hands covered her face, and through them, she mumbled, "It's not you, Zach. It's never you."
It’s never me. What did that mean? I could take her words in different ways, but for now, I heard it as a cry for help. I rubbed her back underneath her shirt, which I'd ripped earlier from blinding excitement. The sweetness of her skin had seared itself on the tip of my tongue, and it kept me in a full-mast erection. I squirmed my hips away from her. No need to embarrass myself further.
"Tell me," I whispered into the curl of her ear.
Maggie wiped tears from her reddened cheeks before she pressed her face into my chest. Let her hear the echoes of her own name in my heart, so she’d be aware that she’d never left me, my thoughts, my mind, and I would never leave her. I twirled wayward strands of wavy hair between my fingers while she spoke.
"My boyfriend...ex-boyfriend...his name is June. We were supposed to get married over a month ago." My heart squeezed at the thought of her married to another. "He didn't show up. He married my friend instead, because he got her pregnant. And they took my baby name."
I remained quiet, listening to her and trying to steady my rapid heartbeat, but inside, I blazed with anger. There weren't plenty of people I remembered in my past, but June was one whom I couldn't forget. Even when we'd been younger, he'd been nothing but a bully. Anything he'd touched, he'd hurt. How could someone so vile end up with someone like Maggie?
Even without her explaining to me the significance of the name Kathy, to this day, I distinctly remembered where she'd read it from. If I closed my eyes, I could still see her with the book clutched in her hands. She was never without a book as a companion, even on the first day I'd come to meet and fallen for Maggie Stewart.
My father had never come home drunk. He'd never touched any illegal substances. His only vice was to control and hurt his family, every which way he knew how. Only a month after we'd moved to Fresno, with Ma and I thinking it could bring on a new hope for us, his abuse had begun again. It wasn't like the first few times when all he did was throw a glass or a plate against the wall and let it break and shatter all over the place and shout profanities at Ma. As soon as he returned home from work that day, the yelling started. He blamed me for whatever was wrong with his life, but then Ma had always taken the beating.
I hadn't made any friends at school. I was too shy or ashamed. What if they didn't like me? What if they thought I was a loser? What if the kids in my grade figured out I was two years older than most of them?
Like my father had said, I was slow, dumb as a doorknob. Numbers gave me headaches. Words were always a jumble of nonsense. Since my father's job required him to move around a lot, he'd always taken us with him. Which was why I'd never been able to keep friends. I tried making friends, but then we would leave the town and at that age, none of my friends, nor I, ever bothered to keep in touch.
Ma had also tried. She used to bring baked goods to neighbors and introduce us to them. But just like me, she hadn't been able to bond well enough with anyone to actually stay in contact. And when my father had decided to turn her into his personal punching bag, she'd refused to take a step out the door. Too afraid to leave me alone, in case my father came home, ready to pound anything in sight. She'd been my only friend, and I'd been hers. Until the day I met Maggie.
Most of the brightest moments of my life didn't start in a positive light. After school, a bunch of kids had decided to make me their target. I still didn't know why. It could have been the way I dressed in clothes two sizes too big for me, or how my hair was always a mess. June was the leader of this group. He was a big kid with new, clean clothes, expensive shoes, and socks that matched. His father owned a successful car dealership. He lived in the richer part of town. He'd called me names and threw sand in my hair. But when he pushed me down on the ground, an angel in pigtails stepped in and fought for me. Maggie.
She wasn't any taller than me, and she was just as skinny. But she braced herself with her feet firm on the ground, fists up in the air, and determination set on her shoulders. If I believed in miracles then, I thought it was in the form of a little girl. Somehow, she made June and his gang disappear. She turned to me, offered her hand, and when I reached for it, I never wanted to let her go.
"I'm Maggie. You're my new neighbor. Wanna have ice cream in my house?"
To me, it was like she had offered me the world.
Tonight, all I could give her was a shoulder to cry on, even though deep down inside, I wanted to pummel June's face until he wasn't identifiable anymore. It wouldn't at all be difficult to find June. Chances were he'd still be living in his family's mansion in Fresno. I could leave tonight, get the job done, and return before breakfast. All I needed was Maggie's permission to beat the shit out of that asshat. But ever since the day she'd seen Ma with a purple hue around her eye, Maggie had been against all forms of physical violence. My body was trembling with fierce rage.
Her sobs quieted down, and the only sounds in the room were the ticking of the clock and the grinding of my teeth. When I sucked in a breath of air to soothe my rage, her sweet scent calmed me.
"I'm sorry for interrupting our...you know," she said sweetly, looked up at me with tear-soaked eyes, and buried her face into my chest.
I cleared my throat, and held her tighter. "Don't worry about it."
Maggie looked up to me again, this time with a near-smile in her eyes. "I guess you'll have to take another cold shower?"
Would it be wrong to say I loved this woman? "I love cold showers," I said instead, loosened up the muscles in my jaw and smiled. "How about I get you one of my shirts and a glass of water first?"
"Okay." Instead of pushing away from me, Maggie circled her arms around my torso and pressed her body closer. "Thanks for listening, Zach." Then she kissed me again.
Her lips fluttered first on my top lip, and then she nibbled on the bottom. Then she trailed an open-mouthed kiss down to my chin and my throat.
"You're trying to kill me again, aren't you?" I squeezed my eyes shut, tamping down any form of response to her sensual kisses.
"Maybe a little." Maggie let out the tiniest giggle.
I groaned and lay on my back, unlocking her arms around me. Before I lost the blood in my head back down to my groin, I stood and grabbed a shirt for Maggie. She sat up with her hands cupping her naked breasts. She captured her lip between her teeth while she followed my movements. I leaned over. One by one, I kissed the tips of her fingers before removing her hands from her chest. Without taking my eyes off hers, I removed her ripped shirt. Maggie lifted her arms as I pulled my t-shirt over her head. I ran my hands through her long hair and released it from the back of the shirt, letting it fall over her shoulders.
And because I was weak when it came to Maggie, I felt the urge to kiss her again. We faced each other, with an inch of space between us. Before I could take advantage of the moment, I said, "I'll be back with your water." And left with the two of us g
asping for air as I stumbled back into my sweatpants.
Even while I poured water into a glass, I couldn't stop the smile from forming on my lips. My heart beat erratically. Her name sang through my veins. Maggie was back in my life. She was hurt. She was healing. All I had to do was wait, and I could ask her to be mine.
When I reached the bedroom, I asked, "Would you like to stay over?"
But on my bed, wrapped in my sheets, she was already asleep. I placed the glass on the table. And with that stupid smile on my lips, I curled into bed with Maggie. She mumbled a sleepy 'good night, ' and I closed my eyes and hoped this wasn't just another dream.
My natural alarm went off in my head, forcing me to wake myself up. It was all part of the discipline. Early bird and that sort of thing.
There was warmth on my chest, coming from Maggie's cupped hand over it. Her hair spread all over the pillow, over her face and some tendrils tickled my throat. I pushed her hair away to see her beauty. I would give my soul to wake up beside her for eternity.
The stirring in my pants reminded me of what almost happened last night, but the pinch in my gut reminded me of her recent painful experience. If I did the math, she'd been with that asshat, June, for most of her teen years. And only him. Once, she had admitted. Her lack of sexual experience didn't bother me. I adored her more because of it. Maggie was no ordinary girl. She could have any man kneeling at her feet, set to do her bidding, with a promise of a kiss from her lips. I am that man. But I could be more. I'd like to be more.
A noise outside my door took my thoughts away from a possible future with Maggie. Travis was a big guy, and he wasn't a graceful morning person. If I didn't get up to warn him, he'd cause a tornado in the living room.
When He Falls Page 12
