The Ties That Bind Us: (The Ties Duet Part One)

by Danda K.

  He looks down, so I crouch down in front of him and rest my arm on a knee. “I’m sure your dad will get it for you eventually, buddy. Maybe for your birthday in October.” He seems more hopeful now, so I continue, “Now make sure you go home and let him know you understand that he couldn’t be here and he’s still the best dad on the entire planet yadda yadda...” I finish this statement with a wave of my hands.

  Everyone knows you catch more flies with honey than you do vinegar. And adults respond way better to compliments than guilt. That’s a fact.

  We’re walking past a little brook on our way back to the bus when I spot a familiar head of hair. I have to stop and do a double-take because that can’t be her. I’m not entirely convinced because her back is to me, but I can spot that hair anywhere, anytime.

  All I could think about this whole week was how it felt when she jumped on me and her hair brushed against my face. The smell of her coconut vanilla shampoo had me so desperate to see her, I went back to that beach every single night.

  I want to inhale that addicting aroma again.

  Touch her again. Get her out of my head. Anything.

  But she never came.

  I walk to her right for a better look, and there she is, her beautiful face coming into view. She’s facing the sky with her eyes closed, dark brown hair falling down her back in natural waves. The pieces closest to her face seem to be a bit curlier than the rest.

  Her ear pods are in, so I know she has no idea my entire world just came to a screeching halt.

  She’s breathtaking. Her nose turns upward a bit at the tip, leaving the smallest slope from her forehead down, and her full lips are slightly parted and relaxed. I wonder what song she’s listening to that has her feeling so unwound.

  I take Sam’s hand and continue to walk him and his friend through the large groups of people, trying my hardest to keep them in line with the other campers and sneak a look behind me to make sure she hasn’t moved. I wanna be able to watch where she goes if she does decide to get up. We reach the bus, and all the kids start to pile on.

  “I’ll see you at home, little man. Make good decisions.”

  I pat him on his head and step back, watching him climb up the steps. I take a few more seconds to make sure he’s seated and secure, give one final wave, and haul ass back inside the garden to find the girl who’s been spending so much time running through my mind. The same girl who now has me running to her.

  Eight

  Cameron

  My eyes are still closed, but I feel it immediately when the sun stops beating on me.

  The presence of someone next to me has me tensing up, and I’m grateful my steady tears didn’t turn to sobs. The last thing I need to do is fall apart in front of an innocent bystander. I lower my head, open one eye, and look over to see who the hell is blocking my light.

  I spot the black Timberlands first and then allow my gaze to slowly move up, past the black jeans with rips at the knees, to land on a slouchy white tee.

  There he is.

  His arms are much more noticeable now. They’re not as broad as I initially assumed from our last two encounters but are perfectly defined with just the right amount of muscle. He’s fit but doesn’t seem like the type to go to the gym. You can tell he stays active in other ways.

  Like roaming the streets all night with his cat.

  I can finally see his hair, and it’s just as I thought- dark blonde and shaggy, messy on the top but cleaner on the sides. His sharp jawline is much more prominent from this angle, and, my God, it could slice right through metal.

  There’s still such a relaxed look to him like he just rolls out of bed, slaps on a beanie, and still manages to look sexy as fuck without trying.

  He’s not model-like; instead, he looks like he belongs on a beach, and he has the skin to show for it. He emanates light as if his aura just oozes out of him, and he’s not afraid to show the world who he is.

  Jaxon grins at me, and I realize I’ve been staring way longer than socially appropriate. “We have to stop meeting like this.” He shakes his head and plops down next to me, one leg dangling and the other bent to his torso.

  “Is this your happy place, too?” I ask with a raised eyebrow. He rests one arm on his bent leg while the other supports his weight behind him.

  Looking straight ahead, he corrects me. “Oh, no. I was here with Sam for a trip.”

  “Is that another animal of yours?” He chuckles at my comment.

  “No, Sam is my landlord’s son. I helped his dad out by chaperoning a camp trip. They just left back to the campgrounds.” He points his head toward the entrance of the Garden, and I look just in time to see the big yellow bus take off.

  “You have such a diverse group of friends,” I say jokingly.

  “Not really. I prefer quality over quantity.”

  I refrain from a sly remark about the first friend he introduced me to and continue to keep things light. “So, if this Sam kid is off to his camp, why did you come back inside?”

  He shrugs and says, “Because what I really wanted to look at wasn’t part of the trip itinerary, and I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to see it again.” He freezes as if he’s said too much.

  I stay silent, wondering what is here that’s so beautiful he couldn’t leave without seeing it. So I ask, “What’s so special that it has you sticking it out in this heat just to see it?”

  He shakes his head, then smiles before looking over at me. “Have you ever been here before?”

  “Uh, no. This is my first time. I’m not much of a traveler.” I pause, then correct myself, “Until now, I guess.”

  As if deciding something, Jaxon jumps up and wipes his hands down his shirt. Looking at me, he reaches out his hand to help me up. “Come on, I want to show you something.”

  Staring up at him, I politely refuse his hand. I’m a big girl and can stand on my own.

  Plus, I don’t want one of these trees to catch fire from the electricity that flows through me when I touch him.

  I don’t know why I want to know what he loves, what intrigues him, but I do. I want to know badly enough to let him lead the way behind one of the greenhouses.

  We walk side by side down a small dirt path covered in leaves and sticks. Struggling to keep up with his long strides, I accidentally trip over a rock and almost land face first in the dirt. Strong arms wrap around my waist seconds before I’m introduced to the earth. He pulls me up and secures me close to his chest, my back to his front.

  I try to catch my breath from the quick adrenaline rush, but it’s not working because now I’m very aware of what my ass is pressed into. Great. I can’t tell if it’s his heart racing against my back or if mine has jumped out of my ribcage.

  I don’t know why he would be nervous since I almost face planted.

  He pulls me tighter to him, and I think I feel the tip of his nose graze my hair. My heart is racing even faster with the close proximity of our bodies. Trying to ignore the way my body is desperate to feel even more of him, I attempt to slow my breathing.

  I feel his warm breath on my ear when he whispers, ”Don’t worry, Nyx. I got you.”

  The sound of his voice sends shivers through me right down to my toes. I’m baffled by his knowledge of Greek Mythology, but it figures he’d compare me to a creature of the night. Stepping out of his hold, I pick up my glasses off the ground and return them to my face.

  I wipe down my legs and stand tall. Ignoring the nickname, I continue forward, more conscious of what lies underneath my feet. This area seems to be closed off to visitors. It’s unkempt and quiet, almost as if it’s a secret. The more we walk, the more I can tell how low traffic it is with fallen leaves looking as if they haven’t been swept away in years.

  Suddenly I see a large and abandoned-looking archway ahead of us. It looks haunted from the outside, with dark vines and brown twigs entangled and covering the sides and top. When we reach the entrance, I can’t believe my eyes; the sight ahead of me is stu
nning.

  The vines inside are so much more vibrant and lively. They still appear dark because they haven’t been trimmed in quite a while, but it’s definitely painting a much prettier picture from this angle.

  As I walk in, I notice branches from the ground reaching up and wrapping around the shape of the walls, closing us in.

  Beautiful yellow flowers are sprinkled around the entire structure of the arch, and the way the light from the sun peaks in from random openings on the top, it looks as though they’re glowing.

  I lift a hand up to the light shining through the hole above me and watch how it filters through my fingers. Jaxon slides up next to me and looks around.

  “You know, this archway was closed down years ago to plant the cherry blossom garden this place is now known for,” he says, disappointed. “They decided to pay more financial attention to the areas closer to their newest money maker. I don’t know what it is about cherry blossoms that make Millennials so crazy over them.” He shrugs. “I mean, yeah, they’re pretty to look at, but I’m sure it’s the trendy Instagram shots that are more appealing to them.” He looks around again. “This will always be my favorite place here.”

  I nod in understanding. “I can see why. It’s absolutely beautiful.”

  He turns his head in my direction, and I shuffle my feet from discomfort.

  “Yeah, it sure is.” Jaxon says as he continues to stare, and I am grateful I’m in a dark spot because my cheeks are now as red as an apple.

  I look down and tuck some hair behind my ear. Obviously, he wasn’t referring to me. I don’t know why my body would assume something that absurd.

  Trying to take the focus off me, I go back to his previous comment. “The cherry blossoms are popular because most people love the idea of their outward perfection and obvious beauty. It’s harder to find that in something that has been neglected.”

  He doesn’t push the issue. Instead, he runs his hands across the prickly wood poking out through the greenery. “You know...” he pauses for a minute, “life can throw the ugliest things your way, but it’s what makes its way inside you that determines your worth.” He signals around the structure we’re standing in. “Take this archway, for example. The constant battle with the weather has put such a strain on its physical appearance from the outside. But it still manages to protect what’s in here and turn it into something magnificent.”

  Jaxon stops and stares at me as if trying to convince me of his words. “We are not the sum of our misfortunes. We’re a product of what we’ve learned from them.”

  Taken aback by his statement, I change the subject and nod towards the watering can on the floor. “Seems like someone else has taken a liking to your little paradise.” He picks up the can and gives it a small shake. The sound of the water sloshing back and forth is suddenly echoing throughout my ears. The sensory overload, and a lack of food, are throwing me off balance.

  He notices the change in my face and his demeanor morphs to one of concern.

  “You okay? You look a bit flushed.” He gently grabs my arm as if to keep me upright.

  “Yeah, I’m okay. I guess sitting in the sun all day and not eating anything isn’t such a good idea.”

  He smiles from ear to ear, suddenly reminding me of a young Paul Walker.

  “Well, we’ll just have to fix that now, won’t we?” He checks his phone. “Just in time. C’mon, let’s go. I know just what you need.”

  I feel sad to be leaving so soon, but I oblige and gesture for him to lead the way. I can’t help but feel like I need to know more about him. I want to see where he goes, where he’s been, and what makes him, him.

  I want Jaxon to be contagious. Because everything about him not only comforts me but makes me feel as close to contentment as I’ve ever felt in my entire life—the closest thing to safe.

  Nine

  Jaxon

  Honestly, I thought I screwed up big time when her face paled, and it looked as though she may be sick. I was convinced whatever progress I made with her had vanished. And man, it took so much effort to control my dick when she was pressed up against it. Cameron has quite the ass hidden underneath her oversized t-shirt and leggings.

  It took everything in my power not to thrust forward and feel what it would be like to be between those round, toned cheeks. The semi was instant.

  I was going to comment on how maybe she wouldn’t fall so much if her boots would just remain tied, but that would add insult to injury. I didn’t want to irritate her again. Although I’m sure it doesn’t take much to do that anyway, I was a bit preoccupied trying to keep my cock from standing at full attention.

  I tried thinking of everything from sweet kittens to Morgan’s grandmother in a bikini.

  In the end, it was the thought of his bare ass that sent my dick from Hello who’s there? to Let me bury myself in this ditch real quick. Desperate times and all.

  Thank God, too, because I’m pretty sure she would have sliced me if she felt just how hard my cock gets for her. My heart was practically jumping out of my chest, my body was desperate for her. It’s been a minute since I’ve been inside anyone, so I could chalk it up to frustration, but deep down, I know that’s not the case.

  This girl has invaded my thoughts. And every time I’m with her, she gets deeper under my skin.

  The Brooklyn streets are always busy in the late afternoon. There are tons of cars honking, busy sidewalks with families, and bikers riding in between the standstill traffic. I’m used to the hustle and bustle, but she’s noticeably uncomfortable. Cam tenses up any time somebody walks past her, and a big part of me wants to take her hand and comfort her.

  Something’s got this girl feeling like the world could swallow her up at any minute.

  “So, what brought you to the Botanical Garden today?” I gesture for her to turn the corner and wait for her answer.

  “It’s a part of my list,” Cam answers, clutching her backpack. Before finishing her statement, she gets interrupted by some asshole on the phone, practically speed walking right through her. I’m surprised she doesn’t go tumbling to the ground.

  I reach for her arms to hold her steady, then turn my death glare towards the asshole.

  Still moving, he must notice her because he looks back, slows to a stop, and eyes her up and down...obviously satisfied with what he sees. He lowers his sunglasses, eyes peeking through the top when he says, “Oh shit, baby, you gotta watch where you’re going.”

  I step in front of her, the need to defend her driving every impulse inside me.

  I step towards him, about ready to rip his face off and feed it to Magnet for a midnight snack. A growl escapes my lips, and, as I suspected, the asshole cowers and scurries off.

  That’s when I notice he isn’t the only one.

  I turn around, and Cameron’s gone, cutting through people and not even looking back. I jog to catch up to her, nearly tripping over a small poodle sniffing around the concrete. She’s like a ninja, swerving past pedestrians and dodging trees trying to escape.

  I finally reach her.

  “Hey, where’s the fire? You okay? He didn’t hurt you, did he?” I ask, even more concerned than before. I look Cam over from head to toe to make sure she’s still intact. Her face is so pale it almost shines in the sunlight, yet she seems pissed. I should have punched him in the face.

  “I’m fine!” she pauses, taking a frustrated breath, and snapping me out of my haze. “And I’m not your damsel in distress that you need to sweep away on your white horse, okay? I can take care of myself.”

  Now I feel like maybe I should punch myself in the face.

  I raise my hands in defeat. “Okay, listen, first things first. I don’t think you’re a damsel of any kind.” I gesture to her very irate self. “I’m pretty sure you spend most of your energy fighting back the urge to slap me. And second, I’m sorry, but it’s not like me to stand back and watch someone get hurt and not put on my war paint.”

  I try to convince her further bec
ause it’s clear she’s not comfortable with men doing anything for her. I’m starting to believe she has a good reason. “I would’ve done the same for anyone in this situation. No matter their sexual orientation or my choice of transportation,” I lie, trying to lighten the mood with a play on her “hero with the white horse” comment.

  She looks surprisingly disappointed by my response but recovers quickly.

  “Listen, what I did says nothing about who you are. Only about who I am. I know you can hold your own, but it’s okay for someone to fight for you sometimes. You’re worth fighting for.” I look away, hoping I didn’t push her too far. “C’mon, let’s get something to eat. You seem hangry.” I stretch my arm out in front of us for her to move ahead. She looks up to the sky in defeat and begins to walk.

  Cameron seems to relax a bit just as we reach the best pizzeria in Brooklyn.

  I quickly jog ahead to grab the door for her. Opening it up and taking an elegant bow, I gesture for her to go in. “My lady.” I look up, grinning, and wink at her. And whaddya know? She smiles.

  The smell of fresh marinara sauce and garlic fill my nostrils. The aroma in this place always makes my mouth water. I glance at her and see some excitement in her eyes and know she’s having the same response. That is until she hears two screaming male voices in the back.

  Pictures of Palermo, Sicily decorate the walls in the small eatery. There’s a counter to the right and a few wooden tables placed around for customers who prefer to stay and indulge. Looking over to her to give her a you good look, I can tell she’s uneasy. Then it hits me: She’s the only girl in here.