by Holly Hood
Tiptoes. Tiptoes. That’s all that it would take to meet up with his lips. He leans down and now his lips are nearly pressed against mine.
Does the world even exist?
Am I just really drunk?
He starts moving me backwards and somehow my feet do what they are supposed to. He doesn’t takes his hands off of me. And when my head hits the bar, I close my eyes, knowing what is about to happen next.
How could it not?
He brings a hand up to my face, fingers slipping into my hair and he goes for it. He really goes for it.
His lips say hello to mine over and over again. I feel a million different emotions and feelings and none of them tell me that I am wrong. Not a single one tells me to stop.
It’s just me and him and our beautiful lips crashing into each other. And just when I think it can’t get any better than what it is at the moment our tongues collide.
His hand travels upward, leaving a beautiful memory behind at the feel of him against me.
He let’s me know there is nothing else he wants right now. He shows me just how much he’s into our lip lock.
He takes control.
I can’t control myself, my hands have been exploring every inch of him and I haven’t even realized. They have a mind of their own.
I groan against his mouth. I need to be put out of my misery.
All this from a kiss—it makes no sense.
And all of a sudden he stops.
I’ve never felt so devastated to breathe.
He stands there disconnected from me. I don’t know what he is thinking but I wish I knew.
Did he enjoy it? Would he do it again?
I know I would do it again. I would do it right now if he let me.
He runs a hand through his hair letting out a huge sigh. “Let’s get you home.”
“Okay.” That’s all I can push out. I numbly climb onto the back of his bike, wrapping my arms around him tighter than ever before. And I press my face against him, shutting my eyes. Enjoying the ride, afraid it is going to end before I come back to reality.
If that’s even possible after what just happened between the two of us.
Twelve
I don’t remember coming home. I don’t even remember how I ended up on the couch in Sophie’s apartment but I’m there.
And I can’t forget the kiss that we just shared hours ago. He never even left me a number to get a hold of him I realized once I regenerated my brain cells.
I’ve always heard people talk about wanting what they can’t have. Well, if this is what this is, I am going to have a hard time.
Maybe I will adjust back to normal.
But I’ve never kissed anyone and felt after effects like the ones that I feel as I am sitting here on the couch.
“Good afternoon,” Sophie chirps in my ear as she slides down beside me. “You made it home late.”
“Ryker…took me out.” I think I made sense, I’m not that sure. But it will suffice.
Sophie nods, filing away at her nails. She looks at me with a knowing look on her face. “Did you break your sexual pact again?”
Boy did I ever break it. In more ways than I ever did before. I sigh, raking a hand through my mess of hair trying to pull it together. I still feel his lips against mine. His lips are haunting me.
I have to say something. Someone needs to know about this—ordeal.
“I didn’t go home with Ryker.”
Sophie tilts her head a little staring at me. She doesn’t say anything, just waits for more of an explanation.
“I went home with …
Now she is raising her eyebrows, waiting for the other shoe to drop but part of me is afraid to admit it. “Nash.” It feels good to say his name. But not as good as it felt to kiss him.
She slaps me in the arm. “Holy shit, Savy. How in the world did this happen?”
I raise my shoulders, forcing a shrug. “Ryker was hanging out with all his groupies and I was swept away in the crowd.” I explain to her how I literally fell into Nash’s lap and stopped him from killing the drunk guy in the bar.
I even mention how Nash had stood up for me when said drunk guy called me a bitch. And just when I am about to get to the best part of the entire thing my phone rings and Sophie fishes it from between the cushions of the couch. She looks at it and back up to me. “Jackson.”
I shake my head. “I can’t talk to him right now.”
“You’re right. Because you need to finish this conversation about you and Nash.”
“He took me for a ride on his bike. And when we came back…” Huge pangs of lust flood my bloodstream. Nash’s vision immediately surfaces in my memory. “He kissed me.”
Sophie covers her mouth in shock, her blue eyes huge. “He kissed you. I’d never expected him to do such a thing.”
“Neither did I.”
“So, did you let him?”
I laugh, because the idea of denying Nash after what I know would just be stupid. “Of course I did.”
“I didn’t even know you fancied him,” she smirks. “You are such a slut.”
I roll my eyes. “I didn’t know I did either.” I look down at my phone. “Can I tell you something?”
“Of course you can.” She waits.
“I never felt anything like that before.” I scratch my head trying to put a finger on what it was that I felt.
“A connection.” She answers for me. “You felt a connection. There was a spark.”
There was a full on fire.
“What does that even mean?” I can’t afford to juggle three men in my life right now, especially one that I work with that wants to marry me.
But something is going on with the universe and men are literally just falling from the heavens for me to feast on.
Ryker, Jackson and now Nash. It gives me a headache to think about.
“It could mean you were sexually in tune with one another. It could mean he’s the one for you. It could simply mean you both were trashed and your beer goggles got in the way of your logical thought process,” she rattles off.
I take a quick shower to freshen myself up and clear my dirty thoughts and slip off onto the patio to call Jackson back because I know he is probably worried about me. We talk everyday.
“Just wanted to check in with you,” I tell him taking a seat on Sophie’s posh patio furniture. “I just woke up.”
“What a bum.” He teases me for a few before growing serious. “What happened to you last night? I thought you were going to come by.”
Suddenly I don’t feel that open and honest and that’s not like me. I sigh. There are two ways I can go with this conversation and I don’t want to go either route. “Jackson…” He interrupts me before I can say anything else.
“I don’t want to hear it.”
I make a face. “You don’t even know what I am going to say.”
“I can feel it.”
My heart sinks. “I’m not good at this. I feel like I’m hurting you no matter what I do or say.”
I know he doesn’t want to hear it but it has to be said. “And I tell you all the time, Savy that I don’t care if you are. I’d rather be doing this than nothing at all.”
This isn’t right. He shouldn’t allow someone to treat him this way. It makes me sad for him, even if I am not intentionally trying to tear his heart out.
There’s a long silence. A dead spot that has nowhere to go, it’s just swallowing the entire mood and moment between us. I shift uncomfortably in my seat. “I’m going to go.”
A short pause and then he sighs. “See you tomorrow, beautiful.”
I hit end on the phone and drop it beside me on the seat. Ryker has texted me asking if I’m alive and I reply back with a simple yes I am fine and leave it at that.
No matter how bad I feel about Jackson, it doesn’t stop me from thinking about Nash.
I want to see him again.
Thirteen
I make it through work getting every task assig
ned to me done before the day is even over with. So I decide to leave the office early to check on supplies at the shelter. Sometimes when Jackson is busy with meetings and properties he forgets these things.
Wendy quits typing when I pass by her desk. “Savy. These papers came today. Jackson wanted to make sure they get to the owner. He said it was kind of urgent.”
I smile and nod taking the papers. After a quick glance I look back up to Wendy. “This is the warehouse I went to the other day.”
She doesn’t understand. But I do.
This has Nash’s information on it. “I’ll take care of it.”
It seems the heavens know just what I am supposed to be doing. I slip the papers in my purse and go out the door. I have to see Nash again and for a reason that has nothing to do with the kiss we shared. This is business. But it’s still another chance to get to know him and I’ve never been more excited.
***
I slowly drive down the street searching for an address. I know when Jackson said get the papers to the owner he meant through a carrier service but I don’t see the harm.
I pass several more houses before one way off in the distance catches my eye only because there are a half a dozen bikes parked outside in the driveway.
It’s not the best house on the street, I eye the crooked mailbox that looks like it’s seen many a car crash into it in it’s life.
I climb out and make it to the sidewalk, a little afraid to go to the door. I hurriedly pull the paperwork from my purse and grow a little more confident. I’m here for a reason.
I climb the porch steps and study the old black boots perfectly lined against the side of the door. With the same emblem carved into the leather.
I knock and take a deep breath. But nothing happens. I know there are six bikes in the driveway someone has to be home. I can hear music playing inside the house.
I sigh and stab a finger into the doorbell. The music dies instantly and I hear feet moving around inside. I’m just not sure if any of them are coming to answer the door.
“Who are you?”
I turn around, locking eyes with a silver haired man. “Um…I came to bring Nash some papers.” I double-check the address. “This is seven ten Greenwood?”
He still seems confused. “Is this some sort of custody arrangement or child support? Did Nash knock you up?”
I start to laugh but stop when I realize he is dead serious. “No, sir. Not at all.”
“Actually it has to do with property he recently sold to my boss.” I know I shouldn’t be airing his business to just anyone but if he’s at the house he has to know him, I would think.
He scratches at his head. “Property? The only property I can imagine…” He doesn’t finish his sentence. “That son of a bitch!”
I jump back when he takes off back the way he came. Oh Shit.
Before I can run for my car, the front door opens and Nash is standing there. But he doesn’t look happy to see me. “What the fuck?” He says low coming onto the porch. Moments later, the old guy comes out behind him and slams the door shut.
“You want to tell me what the hell is going on?”
“I sold the warehouse.” Nash flexes his jaw looking the man dead in the eye. He doesn’t waver, he just waits for whatever is going to happen next.
“You sold the warehouse?” A slew of bad language flies out of his mouth.
I feel horrible.
Nash nods. “I was going to tell you. But after it was over with. Because I knew you would do this.”
“Who told you to do that?!”
He sighs, shaking his head in complete disbelief that I just ruined his entire day—or life even. “I was looking out for you. And I took care of everything. There’s nothing you have to worry about.”
Most people would probably feel better and say thank you. My parents probably would have even offered me a hug. But this man hauls off and punches Nash right in the mouth.
“You stay out of my business. Or the next time I’ll give you more than a busted lip, you son of a bitch,” he warns him.
I watch Nash go down the steps frozen in place. I pray he doesn’t haul off and punch me next.
“My apologies little lady but when a man is pissed off things can get out of hand,” he says. He starts to cough, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket. “What’s your name? You look familiar.”
I swallow, trying to form words. “Are you okay?”
“According to my son I’m on death’s doorstep.” He hacks up a lung, holding onto the porch railing for support. I look at him a little closer.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I say offering my condolences.
“What did you say your name was?”
Nash comes back up the stairs. “Help me get him inside.” He looks at me to get the door. I turn the knob but it’s not budging.
“You have to kick it,” he tells me. “Give it all you got.”
I use the fear and adrenaline and the chaos all going on inside of my mind and kick the door clean open.
“Tough little chick.” His dad says in passing.
I don’t know if I should go back outside or stay where I am. There are guys on the couch staring at me. And that damn Rottweiler sniffing me.
Nash closes the door, giving me no alternative. He helps his dad to a recliner and covers him with a blanket. “Now take it easy while I clean up this blood.”
He shoots me a look. “I’d follow me if I were you. These assholes are no fun to talk to.”
“Hey who you calling assholes?” The blonde one says glued to the television.
Nash ignores him and points at each one. “Fuzz. Kaymen. And Billy.” They all nod their heads but offer little conversation.
“Nice to meet you,” I tell them all and follow Nash down the hall to a bathroom. When he shuts the door, the first thing I do is apologize. “I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything to anyone.”
He opens the medicine cabinet. And I touch my hair, smoothing it down and making sure it’s in place while he looks for whatever he is looking for.
He opens a bottle of Tylenol and pops two and puts them back.
“Aren’t you going to fix that?” I point at his bloody lip. He turns on the water.
“You’re going to fix this. Seeing if it wasn’t for you, my father wouldn’t have punch me in the face.” He takes a washcloth from the drawer and hands it over.
I turn on the water and hold it under squeezing out the excess. My hands shake moving for his mouth, these lips were connected to mine the night before.
He stays still, letting me clean him up. He stares straight ahead not taking his eyes off of the wall. It’s so quiet I can hear our breathing and it’s awkward.
“Sorry about your dad.”
“Part of life.” He sighs, and I can tell he thinks it’s bullshit as much as I do.
I turn the water back on and squeeze out the cloth one more time and press it against his face. “It’s not that bad. Just a small cut.” I can’t take my eyes away from his mouth.
“What are you doing here?”
I blink. “I told you I brought the papers.”
“You’re lying again.”
I sigh. “I figured since we met before it wouldn’t be a big deal to deliver the papers myself.”
“No other reason?” He raises an eyebrow.
I raise one back. “No other reason.”
I stand there while he cleans up his mess. It’s a bit awkward standing inside of his bathroom but if it means we are in the same room together, I’m willing to deal with it.
“What are you doing?” I ask, startled when he starts to unzip his pants.
“Taking a piss. If you want to stick around and see you’re more than welcome. But I’d suggest waiting in the hallway.” He shakes his head, grinning that beautiful grin; even with the battered lip he is still beautiful.
I shut the door and lean up against the wall trying to catch my breath. No matter the moment, it’s always the same—i
ntense.
I’m not sure what is happening to me but I am becoming an idiot.
“Hey there pretty lady,” Nash’s dad calls from the living room. I didn’t realized he could see me from his spot in his chair.
I follow the trail of dust bunnies. “Hey.”
“Sorry about that earlier. I by no means meant for you to see my angry side,” he keeps looking at me. I know its because I look familiar to him. And I know why I look familiar to him.
And that scares me.
“Take a seat,” One of the guys says on the couch. They all move one right after another until there is a spot waiting for me. So I sit down.
“How’d you meet Nash?” He leans back in the recliner, resting his arms behind his head. On the back of his arm is a worn out 8th sin tattoo.
This is the man my mother was involved with and I am sitting a few feet away from him, the man that might have killed her for betraying him, so I don’t know what kind of answer to give him.
“Just around, at the bars.” I swipe my hair behind my ear and look around at the television and the few portraits on the walls. You can tell a woman hasn’t set foot in the place in a long time.
“You don’t look like the partying type,” he insists on telling me. “You look more sophisticated…classy.”
I smile. At least he’s nice. I don’t know what I imagined him to be but this isn’t it. And I don’t feel any kind of resentment towards him at all even if I wanted to.
He’s a sickly man without a care in the world. And I am reminded how much so when he starts coughing again.
Nash is behind me. “I’ll walk you out.”
I say goodbye to the four of them and follow him outside.
“He seems nice,” I tell him, following him down the stairs.
“He’s an asshole to everyone except hot chicks,” he points out.
God, he just told me I was hot.
He lights up a cigarette. “I didn’t know you smoked.”
“Only when I’ve been punched in the mouth by my dad,” he grins, taking a long drag. “We all have bad habits.” He exhales.
I shake my head. I know what mine is. Falling for guys I shouldn’t be.
“Thanks for bringing over the paperwork. And thanks for getting this over so quickly,” he tells me.
