When Stars Burn Out

by Carrie Aarons

  When we were … whatever we were in college, I used to torture myself. Stalk his Facebook page to see who he was hanging out with, and if any girls tagged him in a picture. I can’t help but do it now, wondering if he had any serious relationships in the time I didn’t know him.

  Pax ruffles my hair, snuggling in closer. “Oh no, we’re not going there.”

  “What?” I laugh. “I’m not going to judge you. I don’t care.”

  I so cared.

  “Oh, yes, you do care. And it doesn’t matter anyway, all of that is in the past. Only forward, remember?”

  I rub up against him in a catlike manner, trying to sex information out of him. “Oh, I know. But really, there was no one special?”

  Pax sighs, combing his fingers through the ends of my hair. It’s distracting and feels good, and he knows what he’s doing.

  “It doesn’t matter if there were a hundred women in my past. I’ve only ever been in love with one. You. I love you. I’m in love with you.” Pax says it so matter of factly, as if we’re still talking in jest, bantering back and forth.

  I’m stunned, my fingers pausing mid stroke of his arm. “I’ve waited a long time to hear you say that.”

  He looks up, his baby blues furthering my paralysis. “And I’m sorry it’s taken me so long. I guess you were just lightyears ahead of me in maturity. No, I know you are.”

  I remove my arms from around him, readjusting so that we can look at each other, face to face. “Yes, I am. Which is why I can admit that I’ve been in love with you for ten years. Even when you didn’t love me back, even when we didn’t know each other at all anymore. I can admit that without embarrassment, because they were and are my true feelings. It took a lot to get to this place, but … I’m in love with you, Pax. And I’m not scared of it anymore.”

  He held my face in the palm of his hands. “You don’t have to be scared. I’m not going anywhere. I love you.”

  One of the women on the show interrupts us, giving a dramatic confessional about how madly in love she is with this guy after only a week of knowing him.

  “See, we need to take a page from their book. Stop wasting so much time, just admit to loving each other after a week of dating, and then get married after eight weeks.” Pax sticks his tongue out at me, erasing the tension of the moment.

  It’s out there, we’ve both admitted it and it’s like a weight has been lifted. I know that he returns the feelings that I’ve had for so long.

  My heart spikes, though, when he says the word married. We haven’t spoken about the future much, have just been focused on the present. Saying those three big words is the most we’ve committed to a long-term future, but I can’t lie and say I haven’t fantasized about walking down the aisle to Pax.

  I can’t lie and say I haven’t dreamed of my wedding day since I was a little girl. What the dress will look like, what song we’ll dance to. And for ten years, I’ve dreamed that it would be Paxton Shaw that would say “I do” standing across from me.

  “Well, we are way behind then, you better get on it,” I joke, snuggling into him before he can use me as the big spoon again.

  “Oh, I plan to.” Pax kisses the top of my head.

  And my heart flutters.

  Thirty

  Paxton

  It might be a cliché, but there really is no place like home.

  After my parents passed, I was already making the big money, a professional football salary as a twenty-two-year-old who had no strings and no responsibilities. I’d had enough sense back then, thank God, to know that my parents would want my brother and I to keep the house we grew up in. So, I continued to pay the mortgage until it was paid off, and we came back to visit as often as we could.

  Dylan, my brother, lived at our childhood home in the suburbs of Rhode Island in the summers, his technical engineering job allowing him to work from almost anywhere he pleased.

  And since it was a bye week, I’d decided to bring Demi up here, show her what cold weather really looked like.

  “Snow!” She said it with childlike wonder, as if she’d never seen it before.

  “Yes, that’s this wet, white stuff that is making it so hard to drive. It comes from the sky,” I joke while trying to steer my truck over the wet highway, my tires skidding with each jerk of the wheel.

  Demi scoffs. “I wasn’t born yesterday, Pax. We just never get snow in Charlotte, it’s been years since I’ve even had to wear a down coat.”

  Of course, she’d dragged me to the mall the minute I’d invited her to come up here on my weekend off. One thing I had learned about Demi was that she loved an ensemble, and I can’t say it wasn’t fun watching her pick one. We’d argued about whether or not she’d need a full parka and ski mask; I told her she was going to the Northeast, not the North Pole. She’d delighted in picking out a new pair of Ugg boots, a North Face jacket, and gloves that allowed her to still use her smartphone. She’d been plugged into it the entire drive, and I realized that for her, work never really stopped.

  My gift, one of many that I planned to surprise her with this weekend, had been a cream colored winter hat with a puffy pom-pom on top. Demi had squealed when she opened it, clapping at the cuteness.

  “Tell me about the hat again?” she asked now, touching the fuzzy ball at the top.

  I glanced at her, admiring her stunning profile and then turning my eyes back to the road. “It’s from this brand called Love Your Melon, fifty percent of their hats and apparel bought goes toward fighting pediatric cancer.”

  Demi sighs. “I love that, thank you for getting it for me. You know how special that fight is to me.”

  I reach over, squeezing her knee. “I do. Now remind me again why we decided to road trip this?”

  “Because road trips are fun, and I planned activities, and now we’re almost there. Don’t tell me you didn’t have fun at the aquarium in Baltimore, or that those sandwiches at Harold’s Deli weren’t to die for.”

  Okay, she was right … those sandwiches were fucking delicious. She’d convinced me, when we had first discussed making the trip to Rhode Island, that we should drive it instead of fly. Apparently, my beautiful CEO was not a fan of airplanes, and I was just big enough of a sap to give into her wishes. Plus, she made it sound like fun. And it had been, but it was a lot of driving and my back was starting to hurt and my ass had fallen asleep forty miles ago.

  “But this last leg is sooo long, I need something to occupy me. And if you play one more Dave Matthews song, I’m going to scream.” Her love for the chilled-out rocker was a tad annoying.

  “Fine, what would you like to listen to?” she huffs, and I smile because we sound like an old married couple.

  Which is already what I intend for us to be.

  “Read me something. Sports trivia, yeah, that’ll keep me awake and aware.”

  Demi laughs. “You just want to impress me with your vast knowledge of men who play with balls.”

  “I’ll show you how to play with balls.” I wink and raise my eyebrows in her direction.

  For the next hour and a half, Demi reads me sports trivia, of which I ace every question. But I was right, it keeps me alert, and I pull off the highway and onto the streets of Wickford with a contented sigh.

  We wind our way through the town, and I point out some of my favorite landmarks to Demi. The high school field where I first fell in love with football. The library that my mother used to volunteer at. The Applebee’s that my friends and I used to loiter around at every Friday night, trying to look cool and get half-price appetizers.

  And then we finally pull into the driveway of my childhood home.

  “Home sweet home.” I unbuckle, leaning over to taste Demi’s lips. “I’ve been waiting to do that this entire car ride.”

  She smiles, and we begin to unpack, emptying the car of trash and I grab our bags out of the back. I shuffle through my keys and land on the right one, unlocking the front door and breathing in the smell of my parents. Even five years l
ater, it still lingers in every fiber of the house.

  I stop on the front mat, just letting the feeling of home sink into my bones. It’s bittersweet, being here. Without them, but also remembering every good memory we had here.

  Demi walks in and stands beside me, and then notices the gift sitting directly in front of us.

  “What is this?” Demi points to the picture in its frame, a bow on the corner.

  I set our bags down and send a silent thanks to Dylan for delivering this here so she could see it right when we walked in.

  “Take a look.” I start to unzip my jacket and shrug out of it, moving to the hall closet. My mom would have yelled if I didn’t hang up my coat right away.

  Demi walks to the bench in the hall, the same one that has been there since I was a little boy. She bends down, reading the words on the piece of art. It is a midnight blue background in a whitewashed frame, with a large circle in the middle made up of a formation of stars.

  “Oh my God … Pax …” Her hand moves to her mouth when she realizes what it is.

  “It is the exact formation of stars in the night sky on the day that I walked into your office a few months ago. I found it through a company who makes these for any date you have in mind. I wanted to commemorate it, the first time I saw you again and knew what I’d been struggling through all those years for. And you said to me that first week, that all of the children you worked with reminded you of stars who might lose their shine here on earth, but they were watching us from above. I like to think that all those burnt out stars in the sky that day led me straight to you.”

  She turns to me, tears falling down her cheeks. “This is the most amazing thing anyone has ever given me. Pax …”

  Demi moves swiftly toward me, and I catch her, molding our bodies together. “I love you. I mean it.”

  “I love you, too,” she mumbles into my sweater. Pulling back, she laughs. “You’ve made me a mess. I’m all emotional now.”

  “Would you believe that I was half-hoping I could get you to cry? But only good tears?” I kissed her wet cheeks.

  “Yes, I would believe that. Your charm outdoes itself again.” She rolls her eyes.

  “Come on, let’s get you out of that jacket. And maybe those clothes.” My blood heats, because I’ve been cooped up in a car for too long and need to stretch my legs. Or my body. Preferably on hers.

  “Isn’t your brother going to be here soon?” She anxiously looks around.

  “Probably, but who cares? He should know not to cockblock.”

  And with that, I pick her up and sling her over my shoulder, heading for the stairs and up to my childhood bedroom.

  “Paxton!” She slaps at my butt, but I hear her laugh.

  Yeah, she’s definitely not going to care if my brother walks in on us mid-horizontal hula.

  Thirty-One

  Demi

  Being invited to Paxton’s childhood home is like being invited into a part of his life that I’ve been dying to know about for a long, long time.

  This house, a white colonial with big oak trees flanking the front, with a rope swing tied to one of the thick branches, was something out of a movie. It was picturesque, nestled onto a street in the small lake town that Pax and his brother grew up in.

  Photos of the family hung on every wall, with old sunken couches that looked loved sitting in front of a cozy fireplace in the living room. For years, when we were hooking up, I’d wanted to know as much as I could about the Shaw family. I wanted to be introduced, to listen to his mom’s stories about Pax as a little boy, to drive up here for holidays and become a part of them.

  Coming to this house was like a treasure trove of unanswered questions that I’d always had. But it was also bittersweet, because I was here after his parents had passed. Part of me was a little sour that it had taken Pax so long to realize what we could be together, because he’d wasted time and in doing so, I’d never become close to his parents.

  At the same time, I knew he was thinking some of those same thoughts, and I didn’t want to burden him with my small amount of anger.

  Over the past two days, I’d met and spent time with Dylan, Pax’s brother. He was quieter than his brother, but just like Pax, he had a hell of a charming personality too. It was like the more silent he was, the more you wanted to try to get him to smile. And where Pax was blond, Dylan was dark, with almost jet-black hair and dark, stormy eyes.

  Today, all three of us had spent the day on the half-frozen lake near their house, and they’d tried to teach me how to fish. After trying for half an hour, and getting no bites and not really understanding the point of the whole thing, I picked up my book and read. It was fun, and even though we didn’t say much, it was the companionship that equaled bonding.

  And now we were inside, the fire roaring in the living room, while Pax and I cleared the dishes from dinner.

  “Dylan really didn’t have to stay at a hotel.” I felt bad that he’d left, giving Pax and I some alone time.

  Although, it was kind of nice, imagining what it would be like if we lived in this big house, filled it with kids, grew old together …

  Pax’s voice snaps me out of my daydream. “He’s happy to do it, babe … honestly, I think he’s hooking up with one of our old high school friends who still lives here and he wanted somewhere private to go.”

  “Does he date much?” I wondered if Dylan had the same history with women that his brother did.

  Pax shrugs. “Honestly, we never talked about girls much, don’t know why. Although he did tell me before that he really likes you. And that if I ever mess things up, he’ll cut my nuts off himself. So, thanks, I think my brother likes you better than me.”

  “As he should.” I wink, drying a bowl.

  Pax wipes his hands off, the suds slipping into the sink as he hands me the last piece of silverware to dry. I’d insisted on cleaning up the old-fashioned way, something about it just seemed right in this snowy, homey environment.

  “I think we need to be done with cleaning dishes.” He hugs me from behind, his hands snaking around my waist and his fingers pulling at the waistband of my leggings.

  “You’re incorrigible.” I laugh, because all we’ve done in the past two days, when we weren’t with Dylan, is make love.

  Not that I’m complaining, being intimate with Pax again is like biting into a chocolate ice cream cone after giving up ice cream for eight years.

  “And? What’s your point? Take it as a compliment that I can’t get enough of you. You drive me fucking insane, Demi.” He growls into my neck, his teeth sinking into the soft skin there.

  I can’t help the moan that escapes my lips, and I set down the last kitchen item before I break something.

  “How do you want me?” I want to hear him detail every dirty thing he’s going to do. Pax has always been particularly skilled when it comes to dirty talk.

  And tonight, I don’t want slow and sensual.

  “How do you want me?” He flips the tables.

  I pause, wondering if I can reveal the thing I’ve dreamt about for so long. I’ve never had the guts to try it with anyone else … and I’m not sure why. I don’t know why I’ve been so shy about sex, except with Pax. Maybe he just brings out the side of me that feels comfortable expressing what turns me on.

  “Well, there is this one fantasy, or actually we’ve done it already, that I have thought about many times over the years.” I sigh as his lips hit my neck, and my legs wrap more tightly around his waist.

  The cold edge of the counter seeps through my leggings, and it’s a scintillating contrast to the way my core is absolutely burning.

  “And what is that?”

  I blush, even if he can’t see it, because thinking about our younger years makes me crazy with lust. We were animals, always drawn to each other.

  “Remember the night of the Halloween party at the lacrosse house off campus? They had those Jell-O shots made with Everclear and everyone kept trying to jump off the roof into the
pool?”

  It had been a wild night, and one that had been hazy in my memory. But lord did I remember going back to Pax’s bedroom.

  “Oh shit, yeah … my friend Bobby almost broke his neck doing that.” He picks his head up and laughs, and I can see he’s been transported back to that night.

  “Do you remember what we did that night, in your bedroom?” My smile is devilish, and the tight buds of my breasts tingle with the memory.

  I can see the gears working in Pax’s brain, and then I see it, the instant they all click. “Fuck … that was hot. Damn, I’d forgotten about that.”

  I nod, knowing he is thinking what I’m thinking. “What do you say we give it a try, for old time’s sake?”

  Pax pushes his hands up inside of my long sleeve T-shirt, making me shiver with need. “I’m not the spring chicken I used to be, babe. I’m an old man now, what if I break a hip.”

  I scoff. “I think we’ve tested the limits of those hips recently, and I think you’ll be just fine.”

  His hands travel up, finding their way to my bare breasts, and he rolls each nipple in between his fingers. “You’re the finest one in the room.”

  Lips come at me full force, and I guess I’ve convinced him, because we’re mauling each other in the middle of the kitchen counter before I know it.

  Heat licks up my spine, through the flesh of my thighs, burning my cheeks. Suddenly, my clothes feel too constricting, they’re scalding me, and I need them off.

  I’m not sure who starts the undressing, but in record time, we’ve shed all clothing, and I think Pax shreds my underwear in the process. Who knows, who cares. My head is spinning, and all I can focus on is the ball of need pooling low in my core. He is everywhere, biting my neck, sucking my tingling nipples, moving down the counter, his knees hitting the hardwood floor as he spreads my thighs around his head.

  “Oh fuck!” I buck off the counter, not even embarrassed by the curse that just left my lips.