Torn Hearts (Hearts #1.5)

by Claire Contreras

  His words made my stomach dip. “What’s wrong?” I asked again, this time pushing away from his chest.

  He blinked a couple of times as he looked down at me, as if he’d forgotten what I looked like. It occurred to me that maybe in the five months he’d been away, I’d forgotten what he looked like as well. I raised my hand and flattened it against the stubble on his cheek. I ran my eyes over his face, stopping at the faded scar on his left cheek, and continuing on until I reached his full lips.

  “I won’t be here long,” he said, finally breaking his silence. My eyes snapped back up to meet his.

  “When do you leave?”

  “Sunday night.”

  I nodded, tearing my eyes away from his to look over his shoulder, at the slightly open door of the house behind him. I hated the fact that he only came to visit for one or two days at a time, but I understood. His life was in New York. Had it not been for his foster mother, Patty, I wasn’t sure how often he would come, or if he’d even come at all.

  “Is Patty home?” I asked, raising my chin in the direction of the house.

  Jensen shook his head, letting out a harsh breath that tickled my cheek. “She left a few minutes ago.” He put a hand on my waist then, the feel of his long fingers curling to grip me igniting a fire deep within my belly. I wanted nothing more than to push him back into the house and rip his clothes off. Something told me that he wanted me to do that. That he preferred for me to do that instead of making him talk about whatever it was that was clouding his head. So I decided I wouldn’t. I couldn’t push him to talk to me; I knew that from experience, but I also knew that using sex to try to ease his pain was something Jensen fell into when he was young, and I liked to think I could do more for him than just that. I liked to think I would be the one who would ultimately tame the bad boy in him. I already was, in a sense. I’d been his longest relationship thus far.

  “Will you go somewhere with me?” he asked, making me blink in surprise.

  “Somewhere like . . .” I prompted, confused.

  “Away. Let’s get a hotel somewhere, just for tonight. I need to . . .” he breathed out again. “I need to be with you,” he said, bringing his other hand to my other hip and holding me there before trailing them both along my sides until he reached my face. “I want to be alone with you. Only you and me.”

  He could have asked me to kill the Pope, and I would have in that moment. When Jensen looked at me like that, with those soulful gray eyes that begged for somebody to just understand him, I couldn’t say no. I placed my hands over his on my face, and then brought them in front of my mouth. He closed his eyes as I kissed his calloused palms.

  “I would go anywhere with you,” I said in a whisper. My words seemed to rock something inside of him, because when he opened his eyes he looked torn, broken. That’s how Jensen was, though, and with the baggage he carried, I couldn’t blame him.

  He didn’t say another word—just nodded once and pulled me into the house. I walked around his room as he packed his overnight bag. I busied myself by picking up and putting down random things he had scattered on his nightstands, his desk, the floor. His room looked the way it always had, as if he still lived here and not thousands of miles away.

  “How was your flight?” I asked, breaking the silence as he opened and closed drawers.

  “It was okay.”

  I looked over at him. His brows were pulled together as he rummaged through his duffel bag.

  “Did you lose something?” I asked.

  His hands stopped moving, and the edge of his mouth moved into half of a smile. “Found it.”

  I smiled back, searching his face for clues as to what was wrong with him. I wanted to ask if he’d spoken to his mother, or if he’d gotten fired from his job, or if maybe the children’s book he was shopping to agents got turned down, but I didn’t want to push him, and I didn’t want him to close himself off again, so I stayed quiet.

  His smile wavered as he looked at me; the longer he stared, the harder I found it to stay rooted in place.

  “Come here,” he said, the need in his voice carrying me to him. “You know you mean the world to me, right?”

  Normally those words would have made me melt right in his hands, but the way he looked at me when he said them made my heart hurt.

  “What in the world happened?” I asked. “You’re really starting to worry me.”

  He breathed out heavily, crushing my body against his again. “God, Mia, I don’t even know where to start. Can we pause the conversation and have it later though?”

  I reared back and looked at him, nodding. “But you’ll tell me,” I said. I didn’t want this to be one of the situations where I hated that I had to practically extract the information from him. I wanted to think we were in a place where we could tell each other everything and anything and not worry about the other judging.

  “I’ll tell you everything, baby. Everything,” he said in a whisper as he ran his thumb over my bottom lip. “God, I missed you,” he said, pulling my lips to his. We definitely needed to talk, but I was willing to wait a couple of hours if this was his way of temporarily shutting me up.

  Chapter Four

  Past

  “OUR WAITER KEEPS staring at you,” Jensen said, glaring at the man standing a few feet away from us.

  “He does not,” I said, shaking my head with a smile. The waiter was staring at me, but he always did when we ate there. More than a handful of times I’d caught him looking at my boobs as he refilled our water, and that alone was pretty funny considering I didn’t have much to look at. I didn’t want Jensen getting mad though. Especially not when we were celebrating our two-year anniversary. As it was, he’d gone from zero to ballistic earlier today when my friend, Nathan, sent me a text to wish me a happy belated birthday.

  “He is, and I don’t like it.”

  “Hey,” I said, placing my hand over his to beckon his attention. “What’s with you tonight?”

  His eyes flicked to mine. “I just . . . nothing.”

  I raised an eyebrow and opened my mouth to press him further, but our food arrived. “Saved by the food.”

  Jensen grinned. We talked about our classes as we ate, debating which class was better and what teacher taught it better. He was graduating soon and had been accepted into the Graduate English program at NYU; he hadn’t planned on going for it, but I pushed him. His argument had been that he wanted to be a writer, and he didn’t need one. In the end, after we visited the school together, he decided he wanted to do it. It didn’t hit me right away that he would be leaving soon, and I was staying behind. We would be worlds apart, but I loved him enough to let him go and support him while he was there. We’d decided to take our relationship a step at a time while he was away, and that was something that made my stomach coil with unease.

  We stood up and held hands, and, just as we walked out, he stepped up to our waiter and said something to him. I couldn’t hear what it was, but from the look on the guy’s face, I knew it wasn’t anything nice.

  “What’d you tell him?” I asked as he opened my car door.

  “I told him that if I catch him checking you out the next time we come here, I would rip his eyes out and stomp on them.” He closed the door and left me gaping at him as he rounded the car to get into the driver’s seat.

  “You did not,” I said as soon as his ass hit the seat.

  He glanced at me. “Did you not see the look on his face?”

  I nodded slowly. “Yeah, but he’s bigger than you.” Jensen was athletic, but he wasn’t a gym rat. That guy looked like he could bench two football players.

  “I’m bigger where it counts,” he said with a shrug.

  A small laugh escaped before I could stop it. “You are just . . . too much.”

  He reached for my hand and kissed the back of it. “Are you having fun?”

  “I always have fun when I’m with you.”

  “Good, because I have an entire weekend of fun planned.”
>
  “Does it involve you and me naked on a bed?”

  His nostrils flared as he pulled out of the parking lot. He brought my hand up to his mouth and grazed his teeth along the tips of my fingers. “And the kitchen table. And the floor. And the shower. And the beach. The possibilities are endless, really.”

  My insides tightened.

  “You want that?” he asked, his voice low.

  “I want that,” I replied in a whisper.

  “I want to peel that dress off you slowly, kissing every inch of bare skin as it falls.” He smiled when he saw my face flush. “Then I’m going to lay you down on the kitchen counter and lick my way down your body until your legs are trembling with need.” He paused to lick my wrist. “Then,” he said, as he parked the car in front of his place, his voice a raspy whisper against my ear. “I’m going to lick your pussy from one side to the other and bite your lips the way you like.”

  “Jensen,” I said, pulling away from him. I was on fire. “Let’s go inside.”

  He put his hand on my thigh and moved it slowly until he reached my already damp thong. “I’m going to take my time with you, baby,” he whispered, bringing his mouth up to mine as he hooked a finger inside my underwear to stroke me. “I’m going to make you beg for me to fuck you.”

  “I’m willing to beg,” I said against his lips. “I’ll beg right now.”

  I felt him smile. “I’m crazy about you, Mia Bennett.”

  “Likewise, Jensen Reynolds.” I kissed his lips lightly. “Now can we please go inside so you can make good on your promise?”

  He chuckled. “So impatient.”

  Once we were inside, Jensen asked me to wait for him in the kitchen so he could get my present. We’d said no presents. We shared a birthday so presents were exchanged the other day, but I couldn’t help buying him something for the occasion, and evidently he felt the same. I ran my fingers over the bracelet he gave me, and smiled as I examined each charm—the number 31, for our birthdate; the camera; the feather pen; the anchor; the sailboat; the heart that read, “I’m yours.”

  I dropped my hand onto my lap when I noticed him walk out of the room with a large box in his hands. He smiled as he set it down on the counter and stood behind me, wrapping his arms around me.

  “Open it,” he said.

  I picked up the top of the box to reveal a smaller box. I frowned as I took that one out. It was wrapped in a brown paper filled with words. Normally I would have torn it right open, but something about it made me stall. My breath caught when I realized it was his handwriting. I turned slightly to look at him over my shoulder.

  “It’s just wrapping paper, Mia,” he said with a tender smile.

  I looked at the box again and examined it, trying to read what it said. “Are these your words?”

  Jensen rubbed the back of his neck and smiled as he looked at the floor. He was so sure of himself most of the time, so he looked adorable on the rare occasions that he got shy. He peered up at me.

  “They’re just words,” he said.

  I pulled him between my legs, but he was too tall for me to kiss, so I hopped off the stool. He was still too tall. Jensen chuckled, understanding what I was trying to do, and lifted me on to the counter, standing between my swinging legs.

  “They’re your words,” I whispered against his lips.

  “Open the box, please,” he said, pressing his lips against mine before giving me space again.

  I brought it in front of me again. I couldn’t figure out what it was. I tried to think about everything I’d said I wanted and came up short.

  “Stop trying to guess what it is and open it.”

  “The wrapping paper in itself is a gift,” I whispered, taking my time to remove it so that it wouldn’t tear. “Oh my God,” I breathed when the camera lens I’d been saving up for came into view. “Oh my God.”

  Jensen was grinning when I looked up at him.

  “This is . . . this is too much,” I said finally, putting the box down beside me. There was a reason I hadn’t gotten it for myself yet. Though this explained why he’d picked up so many hours at the coffee shop where he worked.

  “Nothing is too much for you,” he replied, bringing a hand up to caress my face.

  “Jens—”

  His mouth landed on mine before I could finish saying his name. My eyes slammed shut as his lips teased mine until they parted, his tongue snuck into my mouth, stroking against mine as his hands framed my face. My fingers threaded through his hair, and I scooted forward, rocking into him. We were panting when we broke our kiss.

  “You deserve everything, Mia,” he murmured as he looked at me. Those gray eyes of his would be my undoing, of that I had no doubt.

  “I only want you,” I whispered as I unbuttoned his shirt and tucked my hands inside of it, feeling his warm, hard chest under my small, cold hands.

  “You have me, baby. You’ll always have me.” He shrugged his shirt off and wrapped his arms around me to unzip my dress.

  “And you’ll always have me.” I hopped off the counter and let the dress pool at me feet, watching the way Jensen’s eyes darkened as they left my face and raked my body slowly—so slowly—leaving tiny trails of heat in their wake. He made an animalistic sound in the back of his throat as he charged me, lifting me back up on the counter and spreading my legs.

  “You know what my greatest fear is?” he asked, his mouth below my ear as he placed a kiss there. I shivered at the sensation his breath left as he kissed his way down to my chest.

  “What?” I asked in a pant as he reached my breast.

  “Losing you,” he said, looking up at my face. “Losing this.” His lips closed around me, his tongue flicking my nipple. His hands worked their way between my legs as he gave attention to my other breast. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted,” he said, whispering kisses down my stomach. “You’re everything I need.” My head hit the counter with a thump when I felt his tongue on me.

  “Oh God,” I said.

  “I would die if you left me, you know that, right?” he said against me.

  “I would never leave you.”

  “You might. Maybe you’ll find someone better than me when I’m away,” he said, flicking his tongue against me.

  “Shit.”

  “A successful guy,” he continued.

  “I only want you,” I responded, my fingers pulling his hair as I writhed against the hard counter.

  “Maybe someone with less baggage,” he said.

  “I love your baggage,” I said.

  That earned a chuckle from him. He blew on me, his fingers toying.

  “Jensen, please.”

  “Keep going?” he asked.

  “Keep going,” I chanted. “Keep going.”

  He did. He didn’t stop until I saw fireworks beneath my eyelids. When I opened my eyes again he was lifting me up. I wrapped my arms around his neck and sighed against his chest.

  “Why do you always do that?” I asked quietly.

  “Do what?”

  “Talk about that kind of stuff when you’re . . . you know.” I looked up at his face. His steps faltered. He stopped just as we reached the threshold of his room and looked at me. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it, shaking his head.

  “Tell me.” I ran a hand through his hair.

  “Ever since we got together, I’ve had this terrible feeling that I’m on borrowed time with you,” he said in a whisper, his eyes sad. “Nothing in my life lasts. Nothing good.” He shook off his words and walked over to the bed, dropping me on it as he kicked off his boots. I stood on the bed so that I could be at his level when he looked at me and grabbed his wrists as he took off his belt, pulling him toward me.

  “You’ve been saying this for two years, yet here we are,” I said.

  He nodded slowly, still looking unconvinced.

  “You are a beautiful human being. You know that, right?” I asked, searching his face. “You’re funny, you’re kind, you’re tale
nted as hell, so attractive it hurts to look at you sometimes,” I said, making him laugh and roll his eyes. I smiled.

  “You’re so much more, Mia. So much more,” he said, threading his fingers through mine.

  “When I’m with you, I am.”

  “I’m leaving soon,” he said, looking at our joint hands.

  “Temporarily,” I reminded him.

  “It’s still a long time apart.”

  “Do you love me, Jensen?” I asked.

  His eyes snapped up to mine again. “More than anything.”

  “Then we’ll be okay.”

  Before he could delve deeper into his nagging fears, I pushed him away, jumped off the bed, and started working on removing his belt. That weekend was still one of my favorite memories with him.

  Chapter Five

  Present

  I SNAPPED BACK to the present as he parked the bike and held out his hands for me to pass him the helmet.

  “I was just thinking about the day you gave this to me,” I said, smiling.

  His lips twitched. “Before or after I made you cry with my dick?”

  I slapped his chest. “You didn’t make me cry with your dick,” I muttered. “It was an emotional night.”

  Something in his gaze shifted, but he pulled my hand and walked me across the street to check in at the hotel before I could acknowledge it. As soon as the door to our room closed behind us, I stripped off my shirt and bra to change into my bathing suit. I was tying it when I felt Jensen’s large hands on my back and shivered uncontrollably. He finished tying it for me and dropped a kiss on my bare shoulder, turning and going into the bathroom before I could thank him properly.

  On the beach, we sat in silence—I took pictures of the water, the sun, some surfers in the distance, while Jensen used a charcoal to sketch beside me. I turned my body to snap a picture of him, and pressed the button on my camera to examine the picture. I would never tell him, but he was my favorite subject to photograph. His Dodgers cap was on backwards, keeping his hair tucked away from his eyes. He was squinting and biting the side of his lip in concentration as he drew. My heart sped up, just looking at the picture. I jumped in surprise when his arm wrapped around my shoulder and lowered my camera to look at him. There was a sea of turmoil in his eyes. I was sure that no matter how many things I went through, the look in his eyes had the most power to sadden me.