Damaged But Not Broken

by Hearts Collective

  “The water looks amazing.”

  “It is amazing. I’ve become obsessed with this pool. Sometimes I feel like I spend more time in the pool than I do in the house.”

  Blake gives me a strange look.

  “What?” I ask, feeling self-conscious.

  “Just picturing you in a bathing suit.”

  I swat him with a pillow. “Behave!” But I can’t help smirking. “Like you haven’t seen it before,” I mutter.

  “I know,” Blake says in a low voice, “That’s what I’m picturing.”

  I laugh. “Somehow I don’t think I look quite the same in a bathing suit as I did when I was fifteen.”

  Blake’s eyes slide over me in a way that makes my skin warm and my heart race. “No,” he says gruffly, “I bet you look even better.”

  “O-kay,” I say loudly, standing and stretching. “This is getting a little too uncomfortable.”

  Blake doesn’t apologize or make any movement to get up. Then suddenly he springs out of his chair and yanks his shirt off.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I ask, my voice panicked.

  He grins at me. “Going for a swim.”

  “What?” I screech, “You don’t even have a bathing suit.”

  “Who cares? I’m wearing boxers.” And with that he peels off his jeans and t-shirt.

  “Oh my god,” I moan, looking away, this is so very wrong and I am so thoroughly enjoying it.

  My eyes take in the gorgeous sight of his muscular body; his firm sculpted chest, the thick sinewy ropes of raw muscle bulging in his arms, and the trail of sinfully cut abs that lead into a V down to his massive...

  “Oh come on,” Blake says, “Let’s take a swim.”

  I stare at him for a long moment, then he smiles at me, shrugs and dives into the deep end.

  “Lord, help me,” I murmur as I watch his lean body swim halfway across the pool before he emerges, wet and dripping.

  “Water’s great!” he calls out.

  “No shit,” I say under my breath.

  “Come on, Paige! Live a little!” he teases, trying to splash me.

  I know that I shouldn’t swim with Blake, that this is bordering on inappropriate – alright, it is inappropriate, but I’ve known Blake for half of my life.

  “Oh, fine, whatever!” I scoff, even though I’m secretly delighted. “Let me go put on a bathing suit.”

  “No way! I’m not wearing a bathing suit! You don’t need one either.”

  I freeze and look over at Blake.

  “You know that isn’t right,” I say in a low voice.

  Blake looks like he’s about to make a smartass comment, but then he bites his tongue.

  “I know,” he says quietly. He pauses. “But I don’t care. No one will find out.”

  I have stayed true to my word, and I haven’t done anything to pursue Blake. And technically, this is nothing but some harmless flirting.

  Alright, nothing is harmless between Blake and I.

  But before I can talk myself out of it, I pull my green tank top over my head and slip out of my black shorts. Ever since what happened to me, I’ve never been comfortable taking my clothes off in front of a man unless I'm drunk, and honestly, it’s only been an issue once or twice, but here in front of Blake, I don’t feel any hesitation at all. It’s like second nature.

  This is bad.

  Blake lets out a low whistle. “Hot damn, woman. That should be illegal.”

  I glance down at my coral bra and matching panties. I’m just glad I didn't decide to wear a thong.

  “Oh, shut up,” I call, trying to lighten the mood. I run right past him and dive into the deep end myself. The water hits my skin like a cool breeze, and I come to the surface feeling calm and refreshed. Blake is still staring at me like I’m some kind of freak.

  “Will you stop staring at me? Geez.”

  “I can’t help it, Paige. You’re so damn sexy.”

  I’m not sure what to say, so instead I dive under the water, wiggle my legs like a mermaid, and come up on the steps at the shallow end. Blake makes his way over to me.

  “Have I said too much?” he asks, his hair dripping in his face.

  “You’re engaged,” I point out. “What would Savannah,” I can’t help but make a face when I say her name, “say if she knew you were here and that you and I were swimming together in our underwear?”

  Blake sighs as if the reality of the world is suddenly coming back to him.

  “She’d have my balls.”

  “I thought so.” I stop and wring out my hair and twist it up towards the back of my head. “I want us to be friends, Blake, but I doubt this is the best way to go about it.”

  “Alright, alright. Let’s pretend I didn’t say that. Let’s just float around and enjoy the water.” He grins at me. “And let’s pretend we’re wearing bathing suits.”

  I roll my eyes and swim away from him. We manage to spend the next twenty minutes floating lazily about, keeping a wary distance from one another. I’m not exactly sure that I trust Blake, and I don’t know if I can trust myself.

  “I guess I should get going,” Blake finally says, floating on his back with his eyes closed.

  “Probably,” I agree.

  We've hung out long enough and I’m sure he has other things to do. I swim past him towards the steps, and I accidentally brush up against his leg.

  It happens so quickly, that my brain doesn’t even have time to process.

  “Paige,” Blake says in a hoarse voice, and he whips around and grabs me by my hips.

  I gasp as Blake pulls me towards him, crushing me against his solid, wet body.

  “Blake!” I try to protest, feebly pushing him away, but I can’t seem to stop myself. My body is pressed hard against Blake and I can feel his muscular chest against me, and his strong hands at the small of my back.

  “Paige, please don’t fight it,” he whispers, and then he presses his mouth hard against mine. An uncontrollable moan escapes my lips as Blake’s familiar lips work against my own.

  My brain screams to push him away, but I can’t, and instead, I move my lips against his, matching his passion. I part my lips so his insistent tongue can enter me, and he groans deep in his throat as his tongue slides into my mouth.

  I let him take me as he pulls me closer, all my inhibition fades and I can’t hold back anymore, mashing my own tongue against his as we both work in long, luscious strokes. He tastes just as I remember him, only sweeter.

  Blake pulls me tighter, and the weightlessness of my body makes my feet come off the bottom of the pool. He wraps his arm under my ass, and I realize he wants me to wrap my legs around him.

  I follow his lead, wrapping my legs around his body, and he spins and presses me hard against the pool wall.

  “Oh!” I cry out, surprised by his passion and strength. I wrap my legs tighter around him, squeezing him firmly as I feel him harden against the thin wet fabric of my panties.

  With my body pressed against the pool, Blake is able to grasp my face, and I feel the rough skin of his palms against my cheeks.

  “Blake! We shouldn’t!” I manage to moan, breaking our kiss for a split second. But it's an empty statement. I can’t help fisting my hands in his wet hair. I've waited so long to feel his lips on mine again, the sweet dormant passion now burning free from within me.

  I haven't felt this happy in thirteen years.

  “I have to,” he pants, kissing me even harder.

  His hands run up and down my arms and across my stomach. If I wasn’t pressed so hard against the wall, I think I would be grinding back against him.

  I’m consumed by passion and lust, and my mind spins from these feelings that have eluded me for so many years. Even with my couple of college boyfriends, I never felt anything close to this. Any type of physical activity was forced, and I always felt like I had to be intimate to keep them. And by intimate, I mean kissing and some lackluster oral sex. I was never able to bring myself to have intercou
rse with any of them.

  I kiss Blake harder, letting all of my emotions and feelings for him come to the surface and bubble over. I can’t get enough of him, and I’m gasping for him, drinking him in, devouring him because I’ve imagined this so many times, thought of him over and over again.

  This is how it should be – Blake and I together. And for a few short minutes I don’t think once of Savannah, nor do I care that I’m kissing someone else’s fiancé.

  Finally, my conscience takes over and I know that I have to stop.

  “Blake! We can’t,” I say forcefully, pushing him away hard this time.

  This seems to get his attention and he pulls back from me and looks at me. Really looks at me. His green eyes search my face and then I see it creep onto his face.

  Regret.

  “Shit,” he murmurs, releasing me as I gently touch the bottom again.

  I rub at my lips, feeling how raw they are from our kiss.

  Wordlessly, Blake hoists himself out of the pool and starts pacing across the patio. I quickly swim to the steps and hurry out, feeling incredibly exposed in my soaked and now see-through undergarments.

  Blake wheels around to look at me, his face a surprising mask of anger.

  “I’m not sorry!” he says angrily. “I won’t apologize! I’ve been wanting to do that since the moment I laid eyes on you.”

  “Blake,” I say quickly. I hurry to him and then stop short, I have no right to reach out to him, no right to touch him. “It was wrong. It’s okay to be sorry. I swear, I’ll never tell anyone.”

  Blake exhales loudly and runs his hand through his hair. “Dammit, Paige! Don’t you be sorry! This is all on me, you have nothing to apologize for.”

  He hurries toward his discarded clothes and before I can turn around, he whips his wet boxer shorts off and starts pulling his jeans on. I quickly cover my eyes and when I look back, he’s fully dressed, clutching his wet boxers in one hand.

  “I need to go,” he explains.

  As if that wasn’t obvious. Even though the sun is bright and warm, I’m shivering. Blake’s face softens and he takes my hand.

  “I’m not sorry, Paige. We can talk about this later, but I’m not sorry about what happened.”

  And then he walks away, leaving me alone, dripping wet in my underwear. I gaze after him until he is long gone and then I slowly make my way across the patio to my wing.

  Robotically, I open the doors to my bedroom, and step inside. I peel off my wet clothes and leave them in a soggy heap on my floor. I step into the shower, and turn the nozzle as hot as it will go. I feel revitalized as the water flows over my skin but my mind continues to race, what did I just do?

  That was just the best and worst kiss I’ve ever experienced. Dozens of feelings and emotions wash over me, and I grip the side of the shower because I don’t know if I can handle them all.

  And then, finally, the tears come.

  They start off slowly, running down my face and mixing with the stream of the shower. They become heavier, until my body wracks with sobs, and I can no longer stand on my own two feet.

  I sink to the shower floor, clutching myself as if I need to hold myself together, and sob until there’s nothing left inside.

  ELEVEN

  Blake

  Willing to Risk Everything

  I drive home from Paige’s house without really seeing the road. I can still taste Paige on my lips; still feel her soft body pressed against mine. I know I should feel guilt, consuming, overwhelming guilt. But oddly, and sadly, I only feel relieved. Kissing Paige was like coming up for air. It was like nothing had ever changed between us, yet everything was so different, exciting, and new.

  I keep waiting for the guilt, but it doesn’t come, I only feel bad about not feeling bad. Damn, I’m turning into a chick.

  I know what Paige and I did was wrong, and I don’t blame her at all for being upset. She told me that she wasn’t going to pursue me, that she wouldn’t make the first move. And she didn’t. It was all me. My choices, my decisions. And even when Paige tried to stop me, I kept going.

  What the hell does that mean?

  As I pull into my driveway, I know exactly what that means. It means that I’m willing to risk everything with Savannah just so I can have a few stolen moments with Paige. I honestly don’t want to hurt Savannah, but I keep making shitty choices that will eventually hurt her. If she finds out.

  Do I want her to find out?

  Luckily, I still have some time before she is due home from work and I briefly consider coming clean and telling Savannah everything that's happened. Just as quickly, I forget that idea. Savannah would do everything in her power to make my life miserable – which I could handle.

  But I also know that she will do everything in her power to make Paige’s life miserable, and there is no way in hell I'm going to let that happen. Paige has enough shit to deal with and the last thing she needs is Savannah fucking with her.

  “Fuck!” I scream out loud, pounding my fists on my refrigerator door.

  I open the fridge and grab a cold beer. I sit at the kitchen table and slowly sip my Blue Moon. It seems that my safest choice is to forget that it ever happened, and hide it from Savannah forever.

  I know Paige won’t tell a soul. Knowing Paige, she probably feels worse than I feel right now. She's probably consumed with guilt, all because of a kiss I initiated. Now I really feel like a dick head.

  But God damn it! There's no denying that there's powerful chemistry between Paige and I. How do I plan to avoid her and stay away completely?

  I'm pretty certain that if I left Savannah, Paige would be there. She said she had never loved another man. The thought of being with Paige, really being with Paige, sends an excited shiver down my spine. It's easy to imagine what life would be like with Paige.

  But I had made a commitment to Savannah, and I do love her. However, she was making that harder and harder every day. I despise the fact that she went to Paige's house and tried to intimidate her.

  But could I ever really leave Savannah? Would I be willing to throw everything away for Paige? It was something that I would have liked to talk to Paige about, but I knew I needed more time to think about it.

  Paige would probably balk at the idea, and I knew she would feel awful if she was responsible for me calling off my engagement. I wouldn’t want her to feel like she was waiting in the wings. What would I say? Hey Paige, if I left Savannah would you be there for me?

  Every woman’s dream, I’m sure.

  No, if I was going to leave Savannah, I needed to be prepared to do so knowing Paige may or may not accept me.

  Shit.

  I sit at the kitchen table for a while longer, daydreaming about leaving Savannah, and then the real-life repercussions that would come with such a choice. Especially, if I took up with Paige afterwards. I don’t even want to think about how Jeffrey and Scarlett Devlin would take such a break up. I think they would be more upset over their daughter’s humiliation than actually losing me as a son-in-law.

  When I hear Savannah’s car pull into the driveway, I snap out of it, toss my beer bottle in the recycling and hustle into the office to make it look like I’m working.

  “Sugar?” Savannah’s voice rings out a few moments later.

  “In here!”

  I hear the clicking of heels getting closer and then Savannah is standing before me, licking her glossy lips.

  “How was your day?” I ask, messing with my guitar.

  She sighs dramatically. “Fine. I’m so sick of dealing with so many babies at work.”

  I bet those so-called babies at work are sick of dealing with Savannah, too.

  “Sorry, babe.”

  “What did you do today?” she asks, eyeing me.

  I feel like she can see through me, but I try my hardest to play it cool.

  “A little of this, a little of that.”

  She narrows her eyes. “It looks like you got some color.”

  Shit. I wa
s outside for a while.

  “I did a little work on my truck.”

  “Why didn’t you do it in the garage?”

  “It was too hot in there. I wanted some fresh air.”

  Savannah seems to buy it and walks into the kitchen.

  “So, when do you play again?” she calls out.

  “Tomorrow night.”

  “Alright. I think I’ll come out and see you.”

  Savannah hardly comes out to see me play anymore, and I bet it has something to do with her insecurity over Paige. I sigh, knowing I’m going to have to get in touch with Paige.

  For starters, I need to make sure Paige isn’t playing too – that would be a disaster. Secondly, I have to make sure that Paige isn’t planning to come see us play even if she isn’t playing. Not that I expect her to show up, but I can’t take any chances.

  Christ, this is exhausting but I brought it on myself.

  I pack my guitar up, make a mental note to call Paige tomorrow, and head into the kitchen to see what Savannah wants to do about dinner.

  I hope my kiss with Paige was worth all the trouble it was already causing me.

  Who am I kidding? It was.

  ~~~

  I sling my guitar over my shoulder and get ready to go onstage with Ben and Ryan. I lucked out when I learned that Paige was neither performing at the same club tonight, nor did she have any plans to come out and see us. She admitted that she didn’t even know our schedule, which was just fine by me. Turns out, she had a gig at a different club tonight.

  Savannah was in the audience, surprisingly alone. I imagined that Abby hadn’t been available to come meet her. Part of me was happy that Savannah was there supporting me, but a larger part felt annoyed because I knew that Savannah wasn’t there out of the goodness of her heart; she had ulterior motives.

  We take the stage after our introduction and play a five-song set. Everything goes smoothly and we rock the hell out of the crowd. We finish to cheers, and the club owner Theo jumps up on stage to take the mic.