Love Me Always: A Romance Anthology

by Peyton Banks

  “But your all healed now, right?”

  “Yeah.” She mutters something else, but I can't make it out.

  She doesn’t repeat it when I ask her to either, and it hurts.

  She used to talk to me about everything…

  5

  Jamayla

  I used to tell him everything, but as much as I want to now, I feel like I don't have the right. I don't have the right to offload my shit to him after what I did, and just being in his company makes me regret everything I did to push him away.

  I know I hurt him. He never said he loved me, but I know he did. Everything he did told me so, and I did him. I was wrong as hell for cutting him off, and so fucking stupid. Letting a good man like him slip through my fingers will forever be my biggest regret.

  “You can tell me, Jam.”

  I lift my head, trying not to let my eyes drop to those sweats he's wearing. I’ve missed him calling me that. “Tell you what?”

  His hazel eyes narrow. “What's going on in that mind of yours. I know you don't fuck with anyone like that at uni yet, so tell me.”

  “And how do you know that?”

  “‘Cause, I know you. You don't let anyone in until you're certain they can be trusted, and with personal shit?” He shakes his head. “I just know you.”

  He did, he knew me better than anyone, but I ain't the same girl I was then. I’m broken. “It's nothing I won't deal with. How's your mum?”

  He turns back to the stove. “She's good. Misses you.”

  I swallow down another dose of regret. “I miss her.”

  “She'd love to see you.”

  “I'd love to see her.” His mum’s amazing. I love her almost as much as mine. “Maybe I'll call her.”

  “She'd love that.”

  He plates up, and then a comfortable silence follows as we eat. I feel his eyes on me when I’m not looking, and my body warms. I always knew when he was looking at me. It were as if his eyes lassoed me or something and pulled me to him.

  “Have you found a training partner?”

  I swallow. “Um, no. I haven't really spoken to any of the girls yet. A lot of them know each other from school so they already have their cliques.”

  “Wanna partner with me?”

  My stomach dances. “I don't think so.”

  The hurt reflects in his eyes again. “Why not?”

  “Because...”

  “Because…? You broke up with me, Jama, I get it, but I know how much running means to you. We were good training together.”

  Memories… “Yeah, we were.”

  “So…?”

  I drink some of my own water to stop the butterflies in my stomach, which does absolutely nothing to help. “Maybe.”

  “Aight. Think about it and let me know.”

  “Okay.”

  I’ve avoided talking to Mah for two days, but he’s out on the track now and I can’t keep my eyes off him. Dinner with him on Wednesday was more relaxed than I thought it would be, but I ended up leaving before I really wanted to because I wanted him to kiss me so bad.

  I haven't stopped thinking about it since and even got myself off thinking about him. I didn’t think I had a sex drive anymore, but since I’ve been blessed with the vision of him again, sex is pretty much all I do think about. That and how dumb I was.

  It’s crazy how happy just the sight of someone can make you. How just a few words from their lips can make you want to be a better person. I’ve done a lot of thinking over these last two days, and I’ve realised how much I've missed his positive influence in my life.

  I finish my sprints and watch him run the two hundred while I cool down. The man is a machine. The way his body effortlessly glides over the track is mesmerising. There’s so much power in that body, but such grace, too, it’s crazy.

  It’s sexy.

  It’s fucking hot.

  I’d make a rule about not imagining it over mine while he works those hips and strokes my walls, but I broke that one days ago while riding my hand in bed, trying not to let my roommates hear me.

  It was hard, and so was my climax.

  Mah wins effortlessly, but he always does. He might not be cocky, but everything down to the way he carries himself says how confident he is. Emaris always, always backs himself, and he should. He’s incredible.

  At everything.

  The girls in front of me talk about him on our way back to the changing rooms. Of course, I expected it, but I’m also used to it. He has the skills of a young Bolt but the looks of a God, and his naturally hooded eyes alone could make you fall in love.

  He was always sought after at school, but he never once entertained other girls. I knew he only had eyes for me, and while my friends dealt with trust issues in their relationships, I never had to.

  But in return, I never entertained guys. They’d try to get my attention, but I was blinkered, and the longer we dated, the more everyone accepted how unbreakable we were and left us alone.

  Jamaris they called us.

  God, thinking about all that makes me feel even worse, but at the time, knowing how I felt after the doctors told me I’d be out for six weeks and would miss the championships, I honestly thought I was doing the right thing. I didn’t want his focus to be on me, I didn’t want to be a burden on him or his success that I knew he’d have, which he did. He smashed it.

  And I know that because I was there.

  I leave the changing rooms feeling low, even though training actually went better today. Mister Stanson’s been killing me, so I really need to up my calories, too. Thank God it’s lunch because I’m hungry as hell.

  “You are sooo fast…” I hear Kylie gushing as soon as I step out into the hall, and one guess who it’s over.

  He’s straight-faced, but I’m still not expecting the flaming jealousy that spreads like a forest fire inside me. I don't have the right to feel a way about him being with other girls, but I still do. My heart especially.

  I suddenly wonder if he’s been with anyone since me.

  He’s not yours anymore, my conscience reminds me.

  Yeah, don’t I know it.

  I decide to walk the other way so I can get my shit together. I'm confused as hell. It's not that I don't want him, far from, I just don’t have the right to ask him to take me back after what I did. And there’s still the issue of my self-destructive attitude that I can’t seem to shift.

  “Jam,” I hear before he taps my left shoulder. “Wait up.”

  I look to the right. “I need to eat.”

  “So do I.”

  I carry on walking. “Right.”

  “What's up?”

  “Nothing,” I retort. Fucking everything!

  “You training after classes?”

  I sigh, hating how he’s still nice to me after I practically just spat that reply at him, but also from how good he smells after that shower… “Yeah, for a few hours.”

  “Want some company?”

  I open my mouth to refuse, but something stops me. I don’t want to say no. “Up to you.”

  I hear him breathe a sigh of something before he stops following me. Not quite relief, and not quite sadness. Something in-between.

  I get it, though.

  I miss the old Jama, too.

  6

  Emaris

  I find Jama jogging around the indoor track after classes, but I don't show myself immediately. I stay in the doorway and watch her.

  Her form is still the best I've ever seen, except from the resistance she shows through her left foot. She's still scared of hurting it, whether she knows it or not. We've all been there, the difference is, most people spring back into it.

  Jama cares too much, though. Athletics has been her life since she was five, and as far as I know, that was the first time she’d ever been injured bad enough to have to give up the sport for any length of time. God knows what went through her head in those first few weeks, or in the months after. Whatever did, though, didn’t help her situatio
n.

  I don’t think she broke anything. Rumours around school mentioned a bad sprain, but that’s more than enough to mess with a runner’s mental. I wanna ask her about it, badly, but I also don't want her to avoid me completely afterwards. She blocked me as soon as she broke up with me over text, then changed her digits, so I know she would.

  I can’t keep dwelling on the past, though, and neither can she.

  I pull off my hoodie and drop my shit beside hers before catching her on the bend. “You good?”

  “Yeah,” she replies, throwing me a look.

  “So, what was earlier about?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Try again.”

  She sighs before picking up the pace a little, but I catch her, then keep my eyes locked with hers while I jog sideways.

  She snaps her eyes to me as we round the bend but quickly looks away. I know the track like the back of my hand, and so did she. I remember one night we ran it together blindfolded, in the rain, then I fucked her in the stands and made her scream my name.

  My dick twitches at the memory, but I clock the left drop on her shoulder and I’m pulled back to the now.

  “It doesn't hurt, Jama.”

  Her eyes flash with anger. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what? Tell you the truth? You should know me better than that.”

  “Mah…” It’s a warning.

  I know I wasn’t gonna push her, but I can’t hold it. “You’re scared, I get it, but it’s good. You know it is.”

  She ignores me, but I see the drop in her shoulder begin to ease.

  “Trust yourself, Jam. Just fucking use it.”

  “I am!”

  “No, you ain't.”

  She glances at my feet. “You're making me nervous!”

  I narrow my eyes at her. “If you don't want someone tripping you up, don't let anyone near you!”

  She groans in annoyance but then the drop in her shoulder stops and I have to pick up my pace to keep up with her.

  “That's what I fucking thought, Jam!” I slow to watch her. I can tell she's pissed in the way her arms pump, but fuck, it's worth it to see her like that.

  She's fucking lightning.

  She’s fucking sexy.

  I let her do a few more sprints before I re-join her. Her temper isn't something I like to provoke ‘cause Jama can make you bleed with words.

  “We good?” I ask cautiously.

  She looks me up and down. “Yeah.”

  “Aight.”

  “Thanks for today,” she says when I meet her outside the changing rooms. “I needed it.”

  I wanna pull her to my side, but I don’t. “No matter what, I got you, Jama. I know you’re dealing with your shit, but I'm still here. I never went anywhere.”

  She tenses. “Can we not do this?”

  I grab her arm so she stops. “Do what?”

  “This. Talk about that.”

  “So that’s it, huh? We gonna pretend like it never happened?”

  She recoils. “No, but—”

  “But what? You don't wanna hear how I feel? You didn't have a problem telling me how you felt, but you don't wanna hear my take on it, right?”

  “I... It’s not like that.”

  “What is it like then? Make me understand, Jam, ‘cause you cut me off like I meant nothing to you. Do you not get how much you fucking hurt me? It cut me when I couldn't be there for you after what happened.”

  She inhales sharply. “It wasn't your problem.”

  “What? Of course it fucking was. It was mine because you were.”

  “Mah…” Tears begin to pool in her eyes. “I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you, I just didn't want to drag you down dealing with my shit.”

  I almost laugh, almost, but it’s because I’m so damn shocked by what she’s just said. This ain’t no way the Jama I know. “Drag me down? Are you serious?” I grab her face, loving and hating the way it feels to touch her. “I loved you. I fucking loved you and you threw me away.”

  She closes her eyes. “I know, and I’m sorry,” she whispers.

  I stroke my thumb over her cheek to catch her tears. She’s only cried in front of me once before, and it killed me then, too. “But yet, here I am, chasing after your ass because I can't see a fucking future without you.”

  She sobs as she looks up at me. “But how can I love you when I can’t even love myself anymore?”

  “Because, I'll remind you how.” I bring her lips to mine before I even know what I'm doing, but the way she kisses me back makes me glad I did.

  Like she’s missed me as much as I’ve missed her.

  I wrap my arm around her waist to bring her closer, and fuck, the deeper I kiss her, the more I realise nothing’s changed.

  She still weakens in my arms, still moans softly when I bite her top lip, still kisses with all that tongue.

  Damn, I've missed her.

  7

  Jamayla

  I thought this might happen. I felt the pull to him from before we left the track, but once he touched me, that was it.

  His kisses were always so sensual, so passionate, so fucking mind-numbing, but this one… This one includes six months’ worth of suffering and anger, and my body trembles in response.

  I’ve missed him so much.

  My fingers slip beneath the elastic of his hoodie, and I gasp when my skin connects with his. The rush of memories makes me dizzy, and when his hand on my waist tightens, a tortured moan escapes me.

  I was fucking insane to let him go.

  He pulls back and leaves me breathless, just how he always used to. “I ain't doing this with you here, Jam. Let me feed you tomorrow. We can talk, properly, about everything.”

  I’m still in recovery mode, but I manage to nod before he takes my hand to walk me to my dorm.

  I try not to look too disappointed when he doesn’t stay.

  I barely slept last night thinking about what Mah said. I knew I hurt him, but I had no idea how much. What I did was selfish, and as scared as I am about what he might say to me today, I still go.

  My gut churns as I enter Nando’s, and even more when I find Mah over at a table on the far left.

  “Hey,” he says as I reach, and I see him look me over when I slip off my jacket. I don’t wear jeans often, but I know he likes them on me. And tight-fitted vests.

  “Hey.” I sit opposite him and take the opportunity to study his face. “You okay?”

  He smiles. “Uh-huh.”

  “Good.” I feel the blush creeping up my neck, so I look down at my knife. Damn, his lips. “So, about yesterday…”

  He stands. “Let me order the food. What you wanna eat?”

  I shrug. “The usual?”

  “Aight.”

  He leaves me to stew some more, and when he returns with our drinks, I decide to wait for him to speak.

  “Why you so nervous?”

  “I dunno. I guess I'm worrying about what you're gonna say.”

  “Stop acting like you don’t know me.” He links his fingers in mine. “You know what I'm gonna say.”

  I swallow, hard. “I don't... But I do have a question. Why are you really at Loughborough?”

  “Why do you think?”

  My stomach dances. “If it's the reason I think, you're crazier than I thought.”

  He laughs, but his expression soon softens. “I'm here for you, Jam. Call me a stalker or whatever, but you must've been crazy to think I was just gonna let you run out of my life like that. I get why you did what you did—I don't agree with it—but I do get it.”

  The thought of him giving up his dream of going to Bath makes me feel sick. He wanted to go more than I did, and I suddenly realise just how much I must’ve hurt him. “What did your mum say?”

  “She understood.”

  Which means she was probably disappointed. “You deserve the world, Mah… I… I'm not the same person I was six months ago. You’ve seen me in training. I lost a part of myself in that race.”
<
br />   “You didn’t lose shit. You’re still in there.”

  “Maybe…”

  He sighs. “Let me help you find her again, Jam. Let me love you.”

  “I want to…”

  His grip on my fingers tightens. “So, let me. Don't you wanna be happy?”

  “Of course I do, but now I know how much I hurt you... I don't know if I deserve you.”

  He gives me a look. “You can miss me with that. We were great together, and you know it. I ain't going anywhere. You can push me away all you want, but I'm still gonna be here, so just do us both a favour and stop this shit.”

  “But I don’t know how much longer it’s gonna take for me to deal with this, and as much as it kills me to say it, other girls don’t have—”

  “Other girls ain't you, Jama. They ain't you. They don't make me feel like you do, don’t have me acting crazy either. You’re really telling me you’re gonna be happier with somebody else?”

  I shake my head. I know I won't.

  “So…come back to me.”

  “Can I ask you something first?”

  “Anything.”

  “Have you been with anyone since we broke up.”

  He doesn’t seem surprised by my question, he just leans back in his chair.

  “It won’t change my decision,” I add. It’s the truth, it won’t, but I know it will hurt.

  “Almost.”

  “Almost?”

  “Yeah, a few months back. I couldn’t do it, though.”

  “Why?”

  “You know why, now answer the damn question.”

  Call me crazy, but I love this side to him. “Aren’t you gonna ask me?”

  “No, ‘cause I know you wouldn’t give my pussy away.”

  I laugh, actually laugh, and I can’t lie and say it doesn’t feel good. “Is that right?”