Sweetest Obsessions - Anthology

by Anthony, Jane

  I remember as if it were yesterday. A faded Bruce Springsteen tee tightly covered his slender frame, but I couldn’t stop looking at the hole in his jeans. It wasn’t big, no larger than a dime, but every time he shifted in his seat, a tiny flash of skin would show through. I imagined sticking my finger in the little gap, so I could feel the manly swatch of hair that I knew covered his leg.

  That day, when he returned to the table, he sat on the same side as me, not opposite as he is right now. When I questioned him about it, he said, “This way I know you ain’t gonna run away.” He meant it as a joke. We laughed. No one’s laughing anymore.

  “What’s on your mind, baby girl? You look a million miles away.”

  I look up from my lap and find Austin’s jovial gaze staring at me. The wounded look in his eyes is falling away, leaving nothing in them but hope. I don’t want to lead him on. “Just thinking.”

  “About anythin’ good?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t really decided yet.”

  “Well, when you figure it out, you be sure to let this ol’ boy know.” He winks and pushes the plate closer to me. “Go on now. Eat up.” He sticks a fork into the blackened beef and offers me the first bite. My lips part; the flavor melts on my tongue and a small moan escapes. My fingertips spring to my wicked mouth. Austin lowers his head, pretending he didn’t notice the unintentionally erotic sound, but I catch him looking up at me through dark lashes with an impish grin.

  The rest of dinner is light and fun. Austin tells me all about his family and fills me in on everything I missed. I listen, loving the sound of his voice and watching the crooked way his mouth moves. His top lip lifts just slightly higher on the left than on the right when he speaks. It was always my favorite. I find myself hanging on his words, relishing his company, and not wanting the night to end. However, the sweet smell of tobacco from a nearby table sends a crushing blow to my blissful high. AJ.

  This is wrong. We need to go.

  “You almost ready to head out?” I ask.

  Want flashes in Austin’s eyes for a brief moment before he composes himself and stands from the table. We drive home in silence, but the energy between us reels me in. I’m fighting it as hard as I can, but the set of his jaw tells me he feels it too.

  I walk briskly from the car to the safety of the house, but the tip of my boot catches on the threshold of the kitchen door. Austin catches me when I stumble. The warmth of his body against mine sends a bubble of nervous laughter popping from my chest. “There she is,” he drawls, running his fingertip across my jaw. “I knew I’d find her.”

  The tiny touch shoots shivers down my arms. He’s close. If I wanted to, I could reach out and pull him against me, cement our lips together, and have him take me right here. Do I want that? I’m buried under a mountain of confusion, fueled by lust and my own guilt for having hurt a man I still have feelings for.

  My skin tingles from his touch, but AJ’s face is the one I see when my eyes flutter closed. “I’m seein’ someone.”

  His hand drops to his side, but he remains rooted to the floor in front of me. “Him?”

  “No. Someone new.”

  Austin nods slowly, his lips pressed into a thin line. “You run from him too?”

  The jagged teeth slice me deeper as Austin twists the knife a little further into my gut. “That’s not fair.”

  “Neither is you runnin’ out on me!” The harsh sound of his voice makes me jump. Austin has never used that tone with me before. He’s always so even-tempered and mild-mannered. “Goddammit!” His fist connects with the counter before he turns, shoving his hands through his short, dark hair. I watch him become unhinged, stalking the kitchen, inwardly talking himself off the ledge.

  “You don’t understand!” My voice hitches, and my eyes grow wet. “You were already a grown man ready to start your life. I was only eighteen! Suffocating under the weight of the commitment you needed from me.” Salty tears leak out of my both my eyes, staining my face and falling onto my chest. “I loved you, Austin. But I couldn’t resign myself to this life without seein’ what else was out there!”

  “And whaddya find, Case? Somethin’ good out there, worth breakin’ my heart over?”

  Goose bumps break out on my flesh. Backed into a corner, I feel like a feral cat ready to pounce. “What do you want me to say, Austin? That I regret it? That I hate my life? That I never should have left, to try to succeed?”

  “If you were that unhappy, you should have told me. I’d have waited. Hell, I’ve been waitin’.” He squats down, hanging his head in hands for just a moment before returning to his normal calm state. “I can’t unlove you, Casey Jane. No matter how hard I try.”

  Without looking at me again, he rises to his feet and walks away.

  19

  AJ

  “Hi, baby. Did I wake you?”

  “I was dozin’, but I was waitin’ for your call. How was work tonight?” Casey’s sleepy voice dulls the ringing in my ears usually caused by a night at The Wreck.

  “Fight broke out. Pretty sure Bits lost his last remaining tooth in battle.”

  Her face comes to mind as her giggle chimes through the phone like bells. I see eyes, bright and blue as the summer sky, dimples adorning smooth, creamy skin, and pink lips as plump and sweet as strawberries. I reach into my boxers to adjust the growing erection I get just thinking about her, but my hand lingers. Girl’s got me wound so tight, I’m ready to snap. This long distance shit really puts a damper on a guy’s sex life. I’ve spent far too many nights this month with Rosie Palm and her five sisters.

  “You lonely there without me?”

  “I wish you could be here.”

  “Close your eyes and pretend I’m there. What are you wearing?”

  “AJ Morello, you talkin’ dirty to me?”

  “Come on, baby, I’m dying over here. Tell me.”

  “A tank top and panties.”

  My dick twitches in my palm. “What color?”

  “Pink,” she purrs, pausing for effect. “Just like the rest of me.”

  Every nerve in my body vibrates. Visions of Casey spread out before me wearing nothing but a rosy flush on her perfect skin assault my mind as my hand squeezes the base of my cock. “Take them off.”

  She hesitates. “I don’t do ... that ... very often.”

  She’s so fucking sweet and innocent I can’t help but grin. “Just close your eyes and pretend it’s me.” I hear the rustling of sheets as she shuffles in her bed, carrying out my order. “Now, wet your fingers, baby. I know that pretty pussy is dripping for me.”

  The faint sounds of shallow breath waft into my ear. “It is.”

  “That’s my girl.”

  Images swim beneath my pinched eyelids. Casey on her back, her unending legs sprawled wide on either side of me. Her back arched, and her head pressed into the pillow while my greedy hands roam every inch of her. That gorgeous, glistening cunt waiting, wanting. It’s a view I’ll remember until my dying breath. That and the taste of her on my tongue as I lick her into a wild, wet frenzy.

  A moan floats into my ear when I tell her in detail the exact picture in my head. “Do you feel me touching you?” Another breathy whimper fucks my eardrum, and my hand picks up the pace. “Do you feel my face buried deep between those sexy thighs? Tonguing the shit out of you?”

  Panting. Whimpering. Sighing.

  “AJ … Oh, shit … I wish you were here.”

  “I am, baby. I am. Come with me.”

  Yelping. Mewling. Moaning.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck ...”

  Catching my wad in my hand, I lie comatose for a second while my brain short circuits. Heavy breathing is all I hear on the other end of the phone. I can visualize her face, and the satisfied, bewildered look that crosses over it moments after she comes, just before her eyes refocus.

  The line goes quiet for a moment, and I worry that I lost her. “Case?” Her whimpers continue, but they’re not the same erotic, throaty moans I hear
d a few moments ago. Her cries of pleasure have turned to sad sobbing. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

  “This is so hard.”

  “I know. It’s hard for me, too.” I sit up in bed, wiping my soiled hands on my discarded T-shirt.

  “It’s not just us. It’s … everything. I have no idea what I’m doin’. I’m gonna fail, AJ.”

  “Listen to me, Casey. You’re not going to fail. Everything you’re feeling, I’ve felt it too.”

  When my dad died, he left me with a mountain of paperwork to go through. Deeds, contracts, bank statements, you name it. Hours and hours, I pored over paperwork I’d never seen and wasn’t quite sure how to even read. It took time, a ton of energy, and more sleepless nights than I ever imagined. At one point, it seemed impossible. I had zero knowledge about running a business, and even less interest, but I not only did it, but I also did it well. Business is thriving, and my old man would be proud.

  “It’s scary, and it’s hard, but you can do this. I know it, and your gran knew it.”

  Not being able to hold her is killing me slowly. I want to take her in my arms, absorb her pain, and make it better, but I’m stuck here, and she’s there, and it sucks ass. There has to be a better way.

  The band tonight is on fire. The lead singer of The Blackout belts out the lyrics to “No One Like You” as if he were Klaus Meine himself. It’s impressive, and I’m not that easily impressed.

  Bits pokes his head in from the door, checking Marisa every ten minutes or so. She’s alone behind the bar, and he worries. Frankie D. has yet to find a replacement for Casey. She wasn’t here that long, but The Wreck isn’t the same without her. Even after all these weeks, my eye still travels to the bar expecting to see the neon blue lights shining against her golden hair, and I’m stabbed by a sharp twinge of sadness when I remember she’s not there.

  “Thank you! Good night!”

  The band starts breaking down their equipment as I begin pulling the cords from the amplifiers. The crowd thins, but as usual, a few stragglers hang around, finishing their drinks and waiting to be noticed. The smell of perfume wafts around me, followed by the sound of someone clearing her throat. Here we go.

  Behind me, a cute little brunette sways on her feet. “Hey there,” she slurs. She walks slowly to the stage in front of me, and then slides her ass onto it. She’s hot—very hot—and very drunk. The old me would defile this chick six ways to Sunday, and something tells me that’s exactly what she’s hoping. It’s not going to happen.

  Marisa watches me from across the room, making sure I’m on the up and up. She’s already told me that if I break Casey’s heart while she’s away, she’ll ship my balls down to Texas in a Mason jar. I don’t doubt for a second that she wouldn’t make good on that promise. She’s a crazy bitch.

  “I’ve seen you play the drums here before. You’re really good.”

  “Thanks,” I grumble, shuffling around her as I finish my work. I don’t want to be rude, but I also don’t want to give her any indication that I’m interested.

  The cable in my hand pulls back. I look up and find Drunk Girl’s combat boot on top of it. “Where are you headed after this?” As she twirls one of the white streaks in her hair, I’m immediately reminded of Casey.

  “Home.”

  “You want some company?” Her back arches as she flicks the hair off her shoulders, purposely shoving her rack in my face. Yeah, I notice. Having a girlfriend doesn’t stop me from being a guy, after all, and hers are on full display. Nice and big, rising out of her low cut tank as if she’s a walking advertisement for free motor boating.

  A set of footsteps clacks on the wooden floor behind me, taking Drunk Chick’s attention off me for a split second. “Becky, we’re ready to go. Are you coming or what?”

  Brown eyes lock on mine, as she slips off the stage and saunters my way. “I don’t know,” she says with a pout. “Am I gonna come? Or what?”

  Ignoring her advance, I turn to face both her and her friend before walking away. “Careful getting home, ladies.”

  Marisa sets out a beer as I approach the bar. Bits hovers behind it, secretly sniffing the air around her as she finishes her side work. This guy’s in sad shape. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had a shrine devoted to her in his house somewhere. He should just tell her how he feels. What does he have to lose? Bits is a good man, and Marisa could do a lot worse.

  I throw my phone on the bar as I take a seat, trying not to make it obvious that I’m checking it for the hundredth time, but the looks on their faces tell me I’m as transparent as cellophane. The last message I got from Casey was a response to my good morning text. She’s told me before that she keeps her phone in the house during the day because having it on her is too much of a distraction. Still, I miss her angelic voice almost as much as I miss seeing her face.

  “You heard from Casey recently?”

  Marisa squints, staring up into nothing. “I called her the other day, but she and Austin were bathing one of the foals or some shit. I dunno. They’re always busy whenever I call.”

  “Austin?” I feel the crease between my brows deepen, and Marisa’s already pale complexion turns a shade of freckly chalk dust I’ve never quite seen on a human before. “Who’s Austin?”

  A distant memory flies into my head. Something I disregarded at the time, which now sits front and center in my mind. The day she found out about her grandma, she answered the phone expecting him.

  Green eyes flicker toward Bits, who turns away from me, suddenly super interested in collecting glasses from the other end of the bar. “O-oh! He’s the ranch hand. You know, the guy that, like, helps with the horses and forks hay. I don’t know exactly what he does, but he works there.” Marisa’s nervous rambling assures me there’s more than meets the eye on this. Something’s rotten in Jersey.

  “Out with it, Marisa. Is Casey screwing some other guy?”

  “No! No, definitely not!” Her earrings swing along with the violent shake of her head. “What they had is totally over. He only works there now. That’s all.”

  Totally over! When did it start?

  “Okay. I’m heading out. Night guys.” Grabbing my phone off the bar, I keep it in my fist while I decide whether I should call and ask her myself. Something about Marisa’s reaction to this Austin guy doesn’t sit well with me. I make a snap decision and dial her number.

  “Hello?”

  “Who’s Austin?” I blurt out more stern than I intend to.

  “What?” Casey’s groggy voice sounds like she’s still in dreamland.

  I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. I’m getting all worked up before knowing the details. That’s been a problem of mine my whole life. “Austin. You have something to tell me?”

  The pause before answering is far too long for my liking. “He’s our ranch hand. Why?”

  “You sleeping with him?”

  Through the phone, I hear fabric rustling and the click of a lamp switch. “Why would you ask me somethin’ like that?”

  “Marisa said what you had is totally over? What exactly did you have? Why am I just hearing about this now?”

  “I told you I was engaged once. You never asked for more information.”

  “Whoa, whoa!” I clip, pacing next to my truck, brimming with testosterone-fueled fire. “You were engaged to this guy?” The only response I get is sniffling. “Tell me you don’t still have feelings for him.”

  “AJ …”

  “Well, that’s just perfect, isn’t it?”

  “But it doesn’t change the way I feel about you!”

  Sweat drips off every part of me. My fingers wrap so tightly around the phone, I worry I might crush it in my hand. When I open my mouth, my jaw hurts from clenching it. Hostility has taken me over, turning me into the asshole I try so hard not to be. “But in the meantime, you’re getting cozy on the ranch with someone else.”

  “Nothin’s happened between us. But it’s hard,” she sobs. “I’m here and you’re there a
nd there’s all this history –“

  “Save it. I don’t need you to tell me how hard it is! You think it’s not hard on me? Well, things are about to get real fucking easy for both of us. Go do what you want, because I don’t want anything to do with you.” I hit end and shove the phone in my pocket.

  At this point, I’d rather her just go at me with a baseball bat. The bruises would eventually heal, but this ache in my chest is never going to fade. The pain is heavy, constricting my lungs and making it hard to breathe. Hard to think.

  The voices in my head won’t stop yammering for a second no matter how much I yell at them to stop. It’s Jillian’s voice nagging in my ear.

  You love her. Stop being an asshole.

  She lied to me.

  She didn’t lie, she just omitted one tiny detail. Kind of how you omitted having slept with half the Tri-State Area, you hypocrite.

  That’s not even close to the same thing.

  Isn’t it? You’re overreacting. Stop with your stubborn male bullshit and go there. Claim what’s yours.

  I shove a knuckle in both my eyes to control the overwhelming burn that arises out of nowhere. My heart hurts. My head hurts. I’m leaned against my truck, willing them both to work together instead of fighting for control. The logical part of my brain is telling me there must be an explanation for why she never told me about this, but the hothead in me wants to fuck the first thing it sees to get even.

  A Mazda peeling through the parking lot makes my decision for me. “Thought you were going home?” Drunk Chick calls through the open window. What was her name? Beth or something. It doesn’t matter. There’s only one thing I need from her, and her name isn’t it.

  Pulling the pack of Reds from my pocket, I bring it to my mouth, and slide a cigarette out with my teeth. The end crackles as I light it and take a huge calming drag. “Heading there now. Where you ladies going?”