Kissing the top of her head, I then rest my chin on it and squeeze her hands. This is getting serious, and I haven’t kept my foot on the brake like I should have because I don’t want to.
But I’m beginning to think that’s selfish of me since she’s doing exactly what I didn’t want an Indiana girl to do. She’s getting attached.
The other problem is that I’m getting attached, too, and I like it this way. Pulling free from me, she turns her body around to face me. She picks up my guitar and smiles.
“Please, will you play? And sing?”
“No singing.”
Cocking her head to the side, she gives a pouty face.
“But I fed you, and according to Appendix A, you get to feel me up after you play and serenade. That means you get to touch my spectacular boobs. Isn’t that worth singing?”
“Alright. One song, and then you and your spectacular boobs are all mine.” I take the guitar from her while I give her a lascivious look. Her eyes are locked with mine, and I believe it’s to let me know she’s gonna keep her word. This evening is only getting better.
Avery
Lust is swimming in Hayden’s eyes like fish are in this pond. I’m being forward and bold in a way I’ve never been before, but it’s because my feelings want to be expressed. They’re pleading for freedom.
In only weeks, I feel closer to Hayden than I ever did with Blake. I don’t know him as well yet, but our connection is powerful and deep.
I feel safe with him and desire him beyond measure, too. I fantasize about us being skin to skin, and I imagine his fingers on me everywhere.
Shutting his eyes, he begins to strum his guitar.
“I wrote this song about you.”
I look between the wooden slats beneath me with the hope that it will make him comfortable enough to sing. The melody is somber, yet it draws me right in.
“Her bright identity.
It fades into black.
She draws the dark clouds in.
Never planning to look back.
Who is she now?
I thought I knew.
A girl with the perfect life.
Yet her pain is seeping through.
The knife she holds is her voice.
And it’s giving her no choice.
I search for the words to say.
Oh, the words to make her stay.
The words to make her stay.
Chorus: So to prevent her last breath.
I paint on her window of fear.
It is an image of death.
A way to make the truth clear.
Reality sets in.
And she falls to the earth.
Her tears join the rain.
And the heavens wash away some pain.
So I lift her from the ground.
And her arms they wrap around.
Clinging tight as can be.
Begging for it to be up to me.
Yeah, it is up to me.
Chorus: So to prevent her last breath.
I paint on her window of fear.
It is an image of death.
A way to make the truth clear.
I feel her sorrow and her shame.
As her eyes say make me stay.
It was there my redemption lay.
I’ll be the one to make her stay.
Chorus: So to prevent her last breath.
I paint on her window of fear.
It is an image of death.
A way to make the truth clear.
Her bright identity fades into black.
She draws the dark clouds in.
Never planning to look back.”
He strums a few more times, but I’m lost in his lyrics, my words unable to find their way out from it.
Speechless.
“I’m sorry. That was too much, too soon,” he says as he lays the guitar down behind him. His fingers reach across and skim along my tears. “Come here.”
I move toward him, and he spreads his legs again, but instead of pressing my back to his chest, I face him. I shove my body forward and put my legs over his, stretching them out behind his sides.
“It was perfect,” I say. “I’m sorry that day was hard for you, as well.”
“Mostly I was worried about you, but it did stir up some dark memories, too.”
“Then let me help you forget. Touch me, Hayden.”
In a beat, the lust resurfaces in his eyes. He shoves fingers through the back of my hair and takes hold so he can lay me over onto my back.
My crotch is almost touching his as I rest between his legs. His breathing becomes ragged, his eyes perusing my body.
They hone in on the button of my jeans. His hands move there and pause. Eyes tilt up at me, waiting for a signal, so I nod.
“I wish more than anything that I didn’t have my scars. They’re ugly, and you’ll see them all. My stomach and on my hips.”
“They’re a part of you, so I could never find them ugly. They’re imprints of your soul, Avery. Ones you’re trusting to share with me. You’re beautiful.”
Not taking his gaze off mine, he unbuttons and unzips my jeans. He scoots out from under my legs and rises to his knees. I lift my butt so he can shimmy my bottoms down.
His gaze moves to my silky black panties, and as his fingers skim down over them, his other hand inches up my top and slips beneath it.
Inhaling sharply, I close my eyes and whimper just to breathe. Instead of from fear, my body trembles with a euphoric anticipation, and the longing for his touch tells me I’m ready for this next step.
Beneath his fingertips, bumps rise under my skin, and I gasp when his finger traces over the cup of my bra, bringing a hardness to the surface.
“Open your eyes. Let them show me how I make you feel. That’s all the reward I need.” I do as he commands, and his hands take over my body.
Touching and caressing, they’re everywhere I’ve dreamed they’d be. Somehow, he knows when to be gentle and when to give me more.
More,
more,
more.
I lose myself in more.
Hayden
Tonight I brought Avery to a place no one has before. She gave that to me, and I want all her firsts. She’s mine, and that means no other man can have them. That also means I can’t leave her.
Pop has insisted I stay here, and Mom never wanted me to live the MC life, anyway. Maybe this was meant to be. It’s what I’m going to tell myself because Avery and I belong together.
It was physically painful not to let her touch me, too, but I need to prove to her I desire more than sex.
Mr. Bradford could’ve ruined her, but I won’t allow that. I’ll continue to earn her trust until she gives me permission to claim all of her.
What that means is I’ll be wearing out my palm and taking cold showers. Whatever the hell it takes. In the end, she’s worth it.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Hayden
“I can’t believe we have to do this. Why didn’t you bring me an assignment home that was less stressful?” Avery asks with frustration.
She’s talking about the poem we have to read in only minutes in Mrs. Samuel’s class. It’s Tuesday, and Avery’s first day back to school after her suspension.
“Hey, this is your and Chastity’s fault, so don’t blame me.”
She casts a dirty look, and I like that she feels comfortable enough to do it. I laugh.
“Why is that funny?”
“I think it’s the first time I’ve irritated you.” Smiling, she leans over and kisses my cheek.
“I’m sorry. I just can’t believe she’s making us talk about something so personal.”
“I hate it, too, along with every other person in this room, so you’re not alone.”
Joey gave up his back row seat today so Avery could sit next to me. I explained to him how bad her anxiety gets, and how she’d need me, so he was cool about it.
Friday, Mrs. Samuel said she was doing someth
ing outside of the curriculum because of the divide in our school amongst students. What she wished to say was that it’s because of Avery’s fight and the way some of us treat each other in class.
So, we had to write a poem about ourselves to read today. Talk about hearing some groans. Everyone hated it, and made it known, but she insisted it would be a means for us to see another side of each other.
Mrs. Samuel waltzes in with a smile on her face. I think she should have to do this like the rest of us. Then, she wouldn’t be wearing that damn smile.
I’m ready to get this over with, but not until I hear Avery’s. I’m curious, and I’m suspecting she feels the same about mine.
Avery
I want to die when Mrs. Samuel calls me up to the podium. Only one guy has read his poem, and he kept his pretty impersonal and funny.
Mine is much different. I’m baring it all for my peers to see, and I’m regretting that decision. Here goes.
Standing behind the wooden shield, I clear my throat and try to steady my shaking hand that’s holding my paper.
“My poem is called ‘Homecoming Queen.’”
“You placed me there.
On a pedestal up in the air.
I’m expected to give it my all.
Be a leader who never falls.
But this platform isn’t heaven on earth.
It’s where I feel inadequate, leaving my self-esteem worse.
You think I got here on my own, but why would I want to be alone on a throne?
You’ve given me that label, too; a princess with a crown and a pretty hairdo.
You believe I think I’m better, but you have no idea the dark storm inside I weather.
I’m suffocating from expectations so high, where I’m supposed to be the social butterfly.
I’m expected to say hi first, but my shyness is often my curse.
So you assume I’m a snob.
As punishment your friendship I’m robbed.
Why can’t you see you’re just like me?
I’m no more special as the high-up bird than you are as the tree.
If you’d let me land on the ground, I’d stand beside you as part of the crowd.
It doesn’t have to be your gang against mine.
If you would let us, we could cross that line.
You think I have it all, but I assure you that’s not the case at all.
My pain is much like yours.
The only difference is it’s masked by Couture.
You feel like you’re misunderstood.
Well, I feel the same and would show you if I could.
If you’d take the time to see the real me, it might set us both free.
Please, please set me free so I can breathe.”
“Um, that’s it. Thank you.” My eyes flash to Chastity’s, and she’s not sneering like usual. Actually, I think she’s about to cry.
“Avery, thank you for sharing something so personal. Hayden, why don’t you go next,” Mrs. Samuel says.
He passes me as I hurry to my seat.
“Great job, baby,” he whispers. Sitting down, I breathe out my relief and settle into my seat to hear his. I’m beyond curious to know what he’ll say.
Hayden
“My poem is called ‘Alone.’”
“I was the guy you didn’t see.
The invisible type who you set free.
Free from the gossip for me to hear, the interest and the fear.
Then, I met her.
She showed me that it wasn’t true.
I’d been judged, just like you.
People make us out to be what they want to see.
But I can tell you right now, that’s not the real
me.
Little do you know, I wasn’t the loner.
I was just … alone.”
I can’t believe I read that aloud. What’s Avery done to me? Like with everyone, Mrs. Samuel gives me praise as I head to my seat. I sit down and Avery rubs my leg.
“That was awesome, and you keep amazing me.”
Hell, I could show the Knights Union members the sentimental shit I’ve done in Indiana, and I wouldn’t have to worry about leaving them; they’d kick my ass out of the state.
It’s Chastity’s turn next, and the poor girl is shaking to death up there. She messes with her short black hair and crumples her paper some.
“Hi, my poem is called ‘Behind the Curtain.’”
“I’m not only poor. I’m so much more.
I’m not a slut. I don’t just give it up.
I have an eating disorder, and I think I’m fat.
So, there. I admitted that.
I have a loser dad, and it makes me sad.
I’m talented, too. I guess much like you.
I hold a grudge, when I shouldn’t judge.
But sometimes you’re not nice.
Your words dig in and take a slice.
That’s only a hint of what’s behind my curtain.
There’s more to me; that’s for certain.
Say hi to me, and I might let you see.
I want to let you see what’s real inside of me.”
Her eyes fill with tears before she scurries to her desk and sinks into her chair.
“I’m impressed with how much the class is opening up today, and this should be an eye-opener that there is more to a person than what is on the surface,” Mrs. Samuel says, pleased with her assignment.
I take a glimpse at Avery, and she’s teary-eyed, too. Damn, girls cry a lot, but Avery does it less and less each day, and that’s my goal.
I’ll even read another cheesy poem like I did today if it makes her feel more understood. I think she has me wrapped around her dainty finger, and I can’t say I mind.
I’ve never been in love before to know what it feels like, but I’m beginning to believe that’s what this is.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Hayden
It’s Saturday, and Avery and I are on the interstate heading north. She still hasn’t told me the destination of this surprise day trip.
She’s been excited about it for a few days now and even went to the trouble to ask my uncle Wayne if I could take the day off from helping him.
I was surprised he said yes since Saturday is the only day of the week where I can give him about ten hours of my hard work. Leave it to Avery to win him over, too.
She’s practically bouncing in her seat as she drives and sings under her breath to a pop song on the radio.
“OK, we’re over a half hour from home. Spill it. Where are you taking me?”
Sighing, she turns off the radio.
“I was hoping it’d be a surprise, but I’m taking you to the IU campus. Wayne said you haven’t been yet, so I thought we could spend the day exploring, learning our way around. I mean, I told him I figured you were going now since we’re getting serious.”
My fingers tighten around my knees as my anxiety goes from zero to a hundred.
“You went behind my back and set this up?”
Glancing from the road a couple of times, she gives me a worried look.
“I know you were having reservations about going to college, but I assumed you were past that. You say all this stuff about how I’m yours, so I figured you weren’t planning on sending me off to live in Bloomington alone.”
“Yeah, you assumed, Avery. You didn’t ask how I felt about it.”
“You’re angry.” Her hand squeezes down on the steering wheel. “Oh, my god, you had no intention of changing your mind about college. I’ll get off at the next exit to turn around. I’m taking you home.”
Shoving my hands in my hair, I grip it. I’m so fucking confused right now. I thought I’d made a final decision to attend IU with her, but for some reason, her springing this on me pisses me off.
It feels like an ambush by her and Uncle Wayne, and now I’m second guessing what I want. I can’t seem to let go of my place in Arizona. The title I was supposed to assume one day. The life I was ex
pected to lead.
But on the other hand, I can’t stand the thought of her taking me back home and being in Bloomington without me.
“Don’t turn around. I’m only surprised. I hadn’t told Wayne or Jewel that I’m now considering IU, so this felt like they were undermining me.”
“And that I was undermining you ... Look, I went to him about it. It wasn’t his idea. He even told me he didn’t think you’d be happy about it, but I assured him otherwise.
“Obviously, I was wrong, and I’m sorry I didn’t ask you if you wanted to go today. I’m also sorry I assumed you planned to stay my boyfriend. How naïve of me.”
“Avery, don’t give me attitude. I have no doubt I want to be with you, but I don’t know yet if my life can be as cut-and-dry as yours.”
“Oh, so let me guess; this is another one of those things I have to trust you on. Well, I thought I could trust you not to break my heart, but the way you’re talking, I’m not so sure. Don’t tell me not to give you attitude about something this important.”
“Pull over.”
“No worries. I’m getting off this exit right here so I can turn around and take your ass home!”
Slinging my head back against the seat, I blow out a labored breath. I let her get off the exit, but then I flip her turn signal on for the right instead of the left.
“Pull in that gas station right now so we can talk about this.”
She huffs but does what I say. Seeing her this worked up makes me want to claim her right here in this seat until she’s sated and smilin’.
Dramatically, she throws her Volvo in park and leans back against her seat. I lace her hand with mine, and the stubborn girl tries to pull away, but I don’t let her.
She’s getting stronger every day. If I don’t do the right thing, she might seriously take me home and never speak to me again.
“I’m sorry. I do want to go with you. Listen, my dad calls the shots on whether I go back to Arizona. He says he never wants me to return, but I keep thinking he could change his mind, or I could feel this obligation to go back.
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