“Yep, and you were pretty too, especially when you’d get that little wrinkle right here, every time you took a test,” he said, running his finger across my forehead.
He added, “And we all had a weird stage. Remember I was tall and gangly with no muscle to speak of. Telephone pole with arms was what they called me.”
“I was crazy about you for a long time,” I said wryly.
“I never knew,” he said sadly. “Until January, I’d never dreamed you’d give me the time of day. You were kinda quiet and did your own thing. Never came to parties or hung out. You just studied and did school stuff. I’ve always liked you too, Nora. But, you . . . I don’t know . . . it’s like you had this force field around you, and no one could get in to the real you.”
I took a sip of soda, not sure what to say.
“We had something once in New York. Maybe it was because we were both out of Highland Park, and you loosened up. You became this whole other person there, and I think I fell for you a little that weekend. But I messed up and got scared. I kept remembering how distant you could be and I . . . I went back to Lori. Did I ruin what we had?” he asked, his face earnest.
I sighed. “They say timing is everything.”
“Is it Sebastian you’ve been thinking about tonight?”
“No,” I said in surprise.
He shook his head thoughtfully. “You know what, forget I asked. It doesn’t matter who it is. All I want to know is can we try again?”
I blinked.
He continued, “We’ve liked each other a long time, and New York was fucking amazing,” he said with a little groan, reaching over and squeezing my hand. “We had something that night, and it was more than sex. I burned for you, and you burned for me. But I fucked it up.”
“Yes.”
He exhaled heavily. “Will you give me another shot?”
“I don’t want to get my heart broken again, Drew. It’s been stomped on a lot, and I can’t take much more. And don’t get me started on Lori. She’s not here anymore, and I can’t help but think that’s the only reason you want me now.”
He shook his head. “Even when I was with her, I watched you and wanted you. This has nothing to do with her. It’s about us. About starting all over again and giving us a chance. Let me make those shadows in your eyes go away, Nora.”
I gazed into his eyes, and they were warm and soft. I thought about our night together, how sweet it had been, how his body had worshipped mine.
If I wanted a chance at being happy, why not see where this might go?
“Do you think you can make me happy?” I teased, but I meant it.
“Hell, yes. Just give me a chance.”
I smiled slowly. “You got it.”
“You never stop loving someone;
you just learn to live without them.”
–Nora Blakely
THE DAYS MARCHED on, turning into weeks. Drew and I had gone out on a few more dates, and he’d come to the shop on some nights, and we’d do our Cal homework after band practice. We liked the same books and shows; we knew the same people; we laughed at the same jokes. We suited each other in every way.
I’d gotten my tattoo. I’d gone in one day and described to Shayla what I wanted, and a week later I went back to see what she’d come up with. When I saw her design, I knew it was exactly what I’d envisioned. She’d drawn a set of delicately feathered angel wings with the phrase She Flies With Her Own Wings in the middle. Since the wings were life-sized, it had taken me three visits to get the entire tat.
On the day she finished it, I sat there in her shop, staring in the mirror at the ink gracing me from my shoulder blade all the way to the back of my waist. The phrase was written in a pretty scripted font and sat between the wings and near the top of my neck. It was exotic and perfect. I laughed at the irony in that word.
I thought of Leo and how he’d wanted me to have them.
I felt invincible with these wings.
Club Vita had officially opened and was suddenly filled with affluent, health-conscious people. The Dallas Herald had even come out and done a story about Leo and his climb from struggling musician to businessman. I never saw him when I worked the desk, and I wondered if it was by choice. I only saw him at practice, and those times he looked either pissed or oddly despondent, and I figured the stress of the opening was getting to him.
Is it true that soulmates always end up together? I didn’t think so, but I hoped that if there was such a thing as reincarnation, we would meet again in another life and try again. If it was possible, I’d find him, for another chance at love.
Sometimes I’d catch him staring at me with his hungry look, his pale eyes seeming to devour me as he ran his eyes over my face. On those times, my heart would beat furiously, and I’d have to leave the room for a few moments to catch my breath.
Once, after a long practice, I’d broken down and asked Sebastian about Leo and Tiffani. He’d told me that Tiffani had come by the gym some. He didn’t elaborate on the rest, and I think that was an answer enough for me.
That night when I’d gone to sleep, I’d dreamed of him. We’d been in the music room alone and when I demanded he stroke himself for me again, he’d told me he had a lesson for me in mind. He’d stripped off his clothes and then mine. He’d taken my hand and licked my fingers and told me to rub myself until I climaxed while he watched. I’d lain on the couch for him, opened my legs and touched myself slowly, etching little circles on my aching nub. He’d stood above me, panting and watching, calling me Buttercup and pumping himself. When I’d gotten close to coming, I told him, and he licked his fingers and plucked my nipples between his finger and thumb. I’d writhed on the couch, crying out his name as I came.
“I’d lost her.”
–Leo Tate
THE DAYS DRAGGED miserably into weeks of hell. Sebastian told me she was seeing Drew, and I’d flinched, hating the thought of her with him, telling him about soulmates. I tormented myself with images of them together, sharing epic kisses.
At least it wasn’t Sebastian she was with. He’d admitted to stringing me along and making me think he was in love with her. I couldn’t be angry because I think he’d done it because he thought I was making a mistake by not admitting my feelings. He wanted me to find someone and be happy, like our parents had.
The gym opened successfully, so I immersed myself in work, pushing her from my mind. I never went to the front desk when she was there. I’d stay holed up in my office, planning the opening, handling calls, and picking at my guitar.
I finished my song for her.
At practice, my eyes ate her up. Her vulnerability and strength combined made me want her more. I watched her share little jokes and smiles with Teddy and Sebastian. I watched how she’d swing her long red hair behind her when she played the piano and sang off key. I watched her be happy, and I knew it was too late for us.
She’d said we’d shared an extraordinary moment, that it’d been our chance to have a once in a lifetime kind of love, and I’d fucked it up. She’d moved on to someone else. Someone better.
At night, I’d dream of her. I’d dreamed she’d come in my room and stand in front of me, telling me she was my soulmate. She’d strip for me exactly like that night in the bathroom. Only this time instead of walking out, I’d sweep her up in my arms and carry her to my bed, vowing to never let her go. She was mine forever. We’d make love and fall asleep holding hands.
ONE SATURDAY NIGHT at ten o’clock, I locked the doors to the gym after the last client left. Sebastian was spending the weekend with some of the football players at Lake Travis, and I was alone. My head was killing me, and I wanted to tear into someone, but most of all, I wanted to stop thinking about Nora.
By eleven, I dripped with sweat from running ten miles on the treadmill. I made my way to the shower, swearing I wouldn’t jack off to her.
By twelve, I’d had two glasses of Lagavulin while, like a lovesick schoolboy, I pored through about a hundred snapsho
ts Teddy had taken of us in band practice. Pictures of Nora smiling as she played the piano; pictures of me sitting beside her on the couch, both of us laughing at something someone had said; pictures of her dancing around the room with Sebastian, doing goofy things like jazz hands and high kicks; pictures of her being happy.
They sent me over the edge.
By twelve-thirty, I had the music blaring, listening to the shittiest, sappiest songs I could find, and believe me, there’s plenty of them out there. Isn’t that what most people sing about? Sad, broken-hearted people who have no one to love, because they ruined whatever chance they had by being an asshole to the one person they were meant to be with.
By one, I’d had two more drinks, and I finally felt at ease. Hoping I could sleep, I made my way upstairs and crashed. A bit later, I heard banging on the gym door. I groaned, angry at being woken up from what I thought might be a fitful night. More banging and buzzing ensued. I jumped out of bed and swayed on my feet. Carefully, I made my way downstairs.
“What!” I barked out as I opened the door. Nora stood there, her hands raised for another knock, her eyes wide as she stared at me. I looked down to make sure I had shorts on. Yep. “Well?” I asked, leaning against the door for support and crossing my arms.
“Sebastian called me to check on you. He’s been trying to call you for the past three hours,” she said in an angry rush. “I’ve been buzzing the bell and banging on the door for fifteen minutes. And . . . are you drunk?” she asked incredulously.
I ignored her, turned back around, and started walking back up stairs.
She huffed. “Leo, wait a minute.”
I threw my hand up. “Don’t have time to listen to any shit. Going back to bed,” I told her and marched up the stairs.
“Are you alone?” she called out to me, and I stopped, hearing the uncertainty in her voice.
“Yeah,” I mumbled.
I heard her shut the door and turn the lock. “Alright then, let’s get you back to bed.”
“I don’t need your help, Nora. Just leave me alone.”
I walked back in my bedroom and sat down on the mattress, hoping she’d leave. If she didn’t leave, I’d have to. Hell, she probably had a date tonight anyway, and with the thought of that, I picked up the Lagavulin bottle on the nightstand and took a swig.
She walked in, frowning at me. “I guess I can’t say anything about the drinking. Been there, done that,” she said, watching me set the bottle back down.
“I’m old enough to drink. You’re not.”
Her lips tightened, and she looked away from me. Yeah, I knew that barb hurt her. Maybe I wanted to hurt her. Maybe it would make her leave.
I lay down on my stomach and closed my eyes, and even though she was near, my body relaxed and dark oblivion beckoned me.
She sat down, and I opened my eyes to half-mast. “Nora, what are you doing?” I said, slurring. “I’m fine, go home.”
“But what if you get sick?” she said.
I rolled over and grabbed her. “Leo!” she yelped as I pulled her down until she was lying across my chest. When I caught the scent of peaches, I pressed my nose in her hair and groaned.
“Are you sniffing my hair?” She leaned back to look at me.
I stared at her mouth. “No.”
“Liar.”
I soaked in her face, her eyes, those red lips. “I know what love is,” I said.
“You believe in love all of a sudden?”
“I never said I didn’t,” I muttered.
“Just not for yourself, right?”
“Raising Sebastian, starting and running my business,” I said. “Guess I never had time for it.”
“And you do now?”
I didn’t answer.
“Are you in love with Tiffani?” she asked.
I sighed heavily.
“Leo, are you in love with Tiffani?” she repeated, her voice sounding small and scared.
I scowled at her. “Are you in love with Drew?”
“Drew is special, yes. We’re probably going to UT together.”
I pushed her off me and rolled back to my stomach, hating the words that had come out of her mouth. “Bring me a trash can in case I need it,” I mumbled, hoping this conversation was over.
She didn’t move for the longest time, but she finally got up and brought the trash, putting it next to the bed. She stroked her hands through my hair, and I pulled away.
“There’s some pictures Teddy took. I want you to have them. Take them out of here,” I muttered. “They’re over on the dresser.”
She went over to the dresser and let out a small gasp as she looked through them, reminding me of what they showed.
It hurt, knowing she’d found someone. I ached to be alone with my pain.
It was all my fault though. I deserved the misery I had. She’d practically told me she loved me weeks ago, and I couldn’t run away fast enough.
Now it was too late.
“Get the fuck out of here, Nora.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Get. The. Fuck. Out,” I spat, my heart hating the cruel words I used on her but needing the distance, needing a reprieve from the hollow feelings I got whenever I thought about her and Drew.
She let out a whimper.
“Please,” I begged.
“I can’t forget the words you’ve never said.”
–Nora Blakely
DREW HAD BEEN on his way over when Sebastian called me, so before I’d gone to the gym, I’d texted Drew and told him what was going on. He was standing at the shop’s door as I walked up.
“He’s drunk,” I said shakily.
“What happened over there? Did he hurt you?” he scowled.
I swallowed. “No, nothing like that. He told me—no, he ordered me to get out. He didn’t want me around,” I said, not meeting his eyes.
He narrowed his eyes at me and then sighed, like he was sad. “Shit, Leo’s the one you want?”
I opened my mouth to say something, but he cut me off.
“No, wait, let me say this. When something hurts this bad, Nora, you need to fucking let it go. Let him go.”
“I know. I’m trying,” I whispered.
“And I’m not giving up on us. I want you as mine,” he said, walking over to me. He tipped my face up to look at him.
The air thickened with tension, and I sensed somehow things had suddenly changed between us. “Why?” I whispered.
He pulled me against him. “Because I see who you are now. And I’d walk over hot coals to make you love me,” he said, lowering his head. He kissed me hard and deep and for the first time since we’d gotten reacquainted, I felt real heat bloom inside me.
He murmured my name and tugged me closer, his hands pressing on the small of my back until I could feel his erection. I rubbed myself against him, making him groan.
“Fuck. Are you ready to take us further, Nora?” he whispered, kissing my neck.
“Yes.”
“I’m dying to make love to you again,” he said into my shoulder, his lips going lower and lower.
“Yes, soon,” I promised as I pulled his face up to me and gazed into his hazel eyes, liking what I saw. In the past few weeks, we’d grown close and although I hadn’t told him about Finn, I had considered it. The thought of one more person knowing terrified me, but I had to learn to be true to myself. If he cared about me, then my past wouldn’t matter.
He grinned his crooked smile and picked me up and swung me around until I squealed. When he sat me down, we were both breathless.
“Kiss me again,” I said.
Like a kite string that’s been broken by a strong, sudden wind, I felt the tenuous hold I’d been keeping for Leo in my heart finally snap. He was gone, drifting away somewhere out there, destined to belong to someone else.
A FEW NIGHTS later, I met Drew and Sebastian and Mila at one of my favorite locally owned bookstores. It was within walking distance from the shop, and with its regular signing
s and readings, it was a hangout for college-age kids and hipsters. It had three levels, which included a basement area that held out-of-date college textbooks and discounted books. After we’d gotten a table and purchased some lattes from the café, we settled in at table to read and people watch.
After a while, I headed downstairs to the less populated basement to search out some interesting books. I’d just unearthed one about the Victorian poets, when I heard steps behind me in the stacks. I turned, expecting to see Drew, but it was Leo.
With a couple of books in his hand, he stood there frozen, looking at me with a stunned expression on his face. He obviously hadn’t expected to see me.
I glanced at him nervously. “Hey. Find anything good?”
He stared at me blankly.
“Leo?”
“Uh, yeah,” he said holding up two books, “found a bargain on Bob Dylan’s Lyrics and another one on football in the 1970s. What about you?”
“Still looking.” I peered around him, expecting to see the meerkat scurrying around the corner any moment. “Where’s Tiffani?”
He stiffened and shrugged. “Where’s Drew?”
“Upstairs with Sebastian and Mila.”
He nodded. I nodded. We looked around the basement but not at each other.
Crickets may have chirped.
“So . . .” I murmured.
“Uh . . .” he said at the same time.
We both tried to laugh.
I sighed. “Things are weird between us aren’t they?”
“I don’t want them to be.” He stared at his books. “Sorry about Saturday. I never drink like that.”
“I know.”
He nodded.
“Are you happy with Tiffani?”
He dropped his eyes and when he didn’t speak, I smiled regretfully.
“Are you happy with Drew?” he asked, moving close enough to me that I could feel his heat. My breath whooshed out when he touched my hair, rubbing it between his fingers. “Does he kiss you like I did?”
Very Bad Things (Briarcrest Academy) Page 22
