by J. Lynn
There were so many times when letting her go was unimaginable. Even after the night she’d spent with Micah, I hadn’t been able to send her away. At the time, I was still able to lie to myself. To cling to the belief that things would change, that this day would never come.
TRESSA GOT HOME late; she had to know Wade told me about her spending the night with Micah. She cut her eyes at me for the briefest of moments, guilt washing off her in waves. My anger steamed when he told me, and boiled all day. I fantasized a million ways to let her have it.
But now it is so late, and she looks like such a scared little girl.
Tressa sits on the edge of the pool in her bikini, tanned limbs and small, perky breasts beautiful in the moonlight. After a moment she slides into the cool water, and her fingers find the flesh of my stomach. She pulls me to a stop, but I can’t meet her eyes. It hurts too much, to look at her and imagine that douche bag’s lips on her mouth, his hands touching her skin—even places she hadn’t allowed me.
Her ragged breathing scrapes my ears. Wade pauses, his feet finding the bottom of the pool, and approaches us with more than a little wariness. Tressa moves behind me, her arms hugging my waist, her face pressing into my back. It feels odd, the affection she typically denies me against the pain of her betrayal.
Wade looks at me. “You have a really weird expression on your face right now. Is she jerking you off under the water or something?”
“Dude, no.”
Tressa drops her arms and stands up, then slogs her way to the side of the pool and hauls herself out. Her arms hug her chest. “I’m going to sleep.”
I follow her inside, sinking down onto the edge of the bed. We have to address the elephant in the room, but no matter how much it hurts, I’m not ready to lose her.
“Did you have sex with him?”
“What? No. No, Noel.”
Silence stretches while I search for the courage to end this gut-wrenching relationship.
“Tell me to leave, Noel.” Her voice sounds wet, shaking with tears. “I spent the night with Micah. I deserve this. Throw me out, tell me you never want to see me again. Do it.”
Every word flays my skin. For the first time, the misery in Tressa’s voice has to do with disappointing me, not avoiding me, and in spite of last night, it gives me hope.
“I don’t think I can do that.”
I turn to her and put my hands on her cheeks, feeling the dampness of her tears soak into my palms. Her hazel eyes, greener in her state of emotion, beg me.
Beg me for what, I have no idea.
To let her go? To keep her here? To punish her? To forgive her?
I covered her mouth with mine, drinking in the salty taste of her lips and the way every inch of me came alive when her arms pulled my body to hers.
Seven
Tressa
EVEN THOUGH I’M prepared, even though I’ve told myself for days that this would be his answer, the words—that’s not how I want to live—slice my heart into ribbons. We’re not going to be together.
He’ll always be my first love, but he’ll never be my first everything else.
My eyes fill with tears, but I blink them back and force a tiny smile. He heard me out. I can’t ask him for anything more. A few of those tears are for Noel—because no matter what he says now, he’s going to know he settled.
Or maybe not. Maybe I’m one-hundred-percent wrong. Immature. Maybe grown-up relationships are all about picking the best possible option, and passion gets locked away with crazy summers and boys we never should have met. I can’t imagine being happy with anything that shallow though. Not after Noel.
Words gather in my throat, but they disappear before landing on my tongue. This is Noel’s life. And as much as it hurts, even if it feels like it might take years to resurrect the shattered pieces, I know. I have to let him go.
“What the fuck is she doing here?”
My ears ring with the quiet, angry words, and Noel freezes beside me. We both turn, and Alice stands in the open front door. The idle thought hits me that she looks like a child in her pajamas—she’s short and bone-thin, the complete opposite of my five-foot-seven, ten-pounds-too-heavy frame.
Noel scrambles to his feet, recovering a split second before I do, and reaches for Alice. She shrugs him off, her eyes accusing, and refuses to look at me while she waits for an answer. I wonder if I should leave, but she tears her eyes from Noel and pins me with a glare so fierce it immobilizes me. Alice might be vanilla, but she’s fiercely protective of her relationship.
“We were just talking,” I say.
“You show up two nights before my wedding, and I’m supposed to believe you?”
The question reminds me of one of the many reasons I do not like this girl—she doesn’t trust Noel, the most loyal person on the planet. “You should have a little more faith in him. He deserves it.”
She steps in my direction, her elfin hands clenched into fists. “It’s none of your business, Tressa.”
Noel lays a hand on her forearm but she pulls away. Tears glisten in her eyes as she crosses her arms over her chest. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t know, Al. She just showed up. Nothing happened. I would never do anything to upset you.” He tugs loose a hand, eyes asking forgiveness. “You know I wouldn’t.”
The last time I’d seen them, he had done some really stupid shit, like let me crash at his place and forget to mention to Alice that he and I had history. I guess they worked all of that out. But he won’t ever upset her? It sounds nice, but damn. Years and years with no upset sounds like years and years of not being truly honest. To me.
Alice relents, stepping into his arms. He presses a kiss to the top of her head, and a knife twists in my gut.
I clear my throat. “I’m going to go.”
They pull apart and stare at me. Alice’s face says, Get the hell out of here, and Noel’s eyes travel from my head to my feet, then climb back to my eyes, as though he’s memorizing me and this moment. He gives me a sad smile, and his fingers twitch like they want to reach for me. He doesn’t.
“Okay. Alice, take care of him. I hope you’ll be happy.” I know it will make me feel better in the future, but right now the only thing crashing through me is a searing, wrenching loss as I push out the words.
He’s gone, for good this time. My first love relegated to my past, where they end up most of the time, I guess.
It will be okay, I tell myself, each thought piercing me like a blade. Eventually.
As I leave, hiking back the way I came, I don’t turn around. I’m done with that.
Eight
Noel
THE REHEARSAL WENT off without a hitch, except for the fact that my legs ache after forcing them to stand still, to not run. Only close family and friends remain in the banquet hall, and for the moment, I’m alone. The guys are packing the car with the centerpieces and video equipment, and Alice smiles at her aunts and uncles, chattering near the door. She forgave me for last night, because she didn’t have a reason not to. She doesn’t really know Tressa, but she knows my ex–summer fling is unpredictable in a major way.
A smile plays across my lips. Tressa and I would have fought until two in the morning, then ended up tangled together, our mouths and bodies working things out. I sigh into myself. It’s so different with Alice. And even with Tressa now—talking to an honest, forthcoming version of her rocked me. How she’d said that she hoped Alice and I would be happy, every bit of her radiating sincerity. The old Tressa would never have been selfless. I’d loved her then—like insane, borderline obsessively loved her—but she had never considered for one minute that what I wanted was as important as her freedom.
If I had met this Tressa, or if I’d been more patient, waited for her to emerge, would we be somewhere different? Would I be marrying someone else?
I shake my head, clearing the fruitless thoughts of what might have been, as Sammie slides into the seat next to me. We would never know.
&n
bsp; Her blond bob shines in the restaurant’s soft lighting and concern soaks her eyes. “You okay?”
“Fine.”
“You can’t lie to me, Noel. We’ve been friends half our lives. I know you’re not okay. But I think it’s normal. People get nervous about their wedding even when girls they used to love don’t show up two days beforehand.” She stops, biting her lip and casting a glance at Alice.
“And?” The word barely escapes the tightness of my throat.
“And don’t let anyone tell you what makes you happy. Not your friends, not Alice, not Tressa. This is the rest of your life.”
She leans over and I let her hug me, even though it makes the frustrated tears harder to swallow. I don’t know what I want anymore, I realize as Sammie walks away, and that’s a terrifying feeling twelve hours before my wedding.
Alice wanders over, sliding her arms around my neck from behind and pressing a kiss to my cheek. “You okay? You’re not getting cold feet on me, are you?”
“I’m fine, Al. Tired. How are you holding up?”
She sits on the table and starts talking, this girl who wants me and loves me and has never made me wonder about the truth of either of those things in the years we’ve been together. With Alice, I feel secure and warm, content. There’s not a doubt in my mind that I’d feel the same way for the rest of my life.
But fifteen minutes alone with Tressa blew my world to pieces. I thought it was good, the knowing. What every day will look like, where my life goes from here. Now, looking into an endless future of cookie-cutter hours, I don’t think I can do it.
ALICE IS A violent pendulum swing—Tressa was right about that. The instability of my relationship with Tressa had driven me to the familiar, and until she reminded me of how it feels to be in the presence of passion, I thought it was better.
Safe might be better for some people, but not for me.
My palms are slick as I sit on the bed in our room, waiting for Alice to come out of the shower. I think might hurl into the trash can if the nerves in my stomach don’t stop banging around like a ship’s rigging in a storm.
It’s killing me, having to break Alice’s heart the night before our wedding. But I love her too much to let her marry someone whose heart will always, at least a little bit, belong to someone else.
Maybe nobody’s heart ever wholly belongs to a single person. People wander in and out of our lives, taking pieces with them, leaving us less than whole when they go. But Alice deserves better. She deserves the kind of all-consuming, passionate love I know for a fact exists. I’ve had it.
Just not with her.
I can’t imagine life with Tressa being anything less than a giant adventure, one that excites me every day. The prospect of spending years holding her, mining the depths of this Tressa who has proven she’s changed enough to want me to be happy, to communicate, ignites an electric charge under my skin. It hums, spilling anticipation though my blood.
Alice comes out of the bathroom, her wet hair dripping on the shoulders of her Iowa T-shirt, short legs sticking out of an old pair of shorts. She takes one look at my face and her shoulders sag, the defeated posture twisting my heart.
“We need to talk, Al.”
Nine
Tressa
SAMMIE’S EYES FIND mine in the mirror as my fingers zip her into her cobalt blue bridesmaid’s dress. “Can I ask you something?”
“As long as it’s not ‘what the fuck are you doing here.’ ”
“No, it’s not that.” She pauses, turning around to inspect the rear view. “When did you change your mind? About Noel.”
“It was never about Noel. It was about me.” I reach out to tighten the silver bow at the back of her waist. “I fell in love with him that summer but I wasn’t ready. I wanted a fling, some fun, and to go back to school. When I wised up, started to see our meeting as serendipity instead of inconvenience, he’d gotten back together with Alice.”
“You waited too long.”
I shrug. “It was stupid and self-centered but I thought he’d be waiting when I was ready. We didn’t feel breakable, not to me, and . . . yeah. I waited too long.” Tears fill my eyes but I smile through them. “You look gorgeous. When do you need to be at the church?”
“An hour.”
A knock echoes through the hotel room, turning both of our heads.
“Miranda must have forgotten her key.”
“I’ll get it,” I tell her.
Noel’s face appears on the other side of the door and my blood freezes. He’s wearing a threadbare T-shirt and khaki shorts, socks, and running shoes, and an expression that looks as sick and miserable as I feel inside.
“Can we talk?” His voice cracks a little, like he’s a teenager again.
“Of course.”
I lead him past Sammie’s huge eyes, and when we cross the threshold to one of the suite’s bedrooms, he turns and clears his throat. “Sam, you shouldn’t go to the church.”
Her mouth falls open as he closes the door and walks to the bed, then sits and faces me. A second later, I hear the front door snick closed and know we’re alone. Noel pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers, the slump of his shoulders making me want to hold him.
I stand by the door, scared to move and make this dissolve.
He looks up, his blue eyes stoic. “Sit?”
The familiar heat between us increases, even though I sit far enough away that we’re not touching.
“I called off the wedding.”
My heart slams into my rib cage, knocking the breath from my lungs. “Why?”
“Isn’t that why you came here? To stop me from getting married?”
“No. Honestly, no, Noel. I came here because it was my last chance to make sure you knew how I felt—still feel—before it’s all really over. I never dreamed . . . You chose her once. I expected you to do it again.”
He frowns. “I was so angry at you that night of the party.” Noel reaches out and picks up my hand, threading our fingers together as though it hasn’t been years since we’ve touched, and the feel of him swishes that familiar blend of contentment and desire through me. “It took me a year to realize you didn’t love me. That we had never been, were never going to be serious to you. My relationship with Alice was solid—I felt good. Then you showed up and turned my life into kindling.”
“Why did you let me stay at your house? That was bonehead.”
Pale pink spots spread into his cheeks. “I thought it would prove I was over you, if you stayed and nothing happened. To you and to me. But you . . . it’s never easy. Anyway, I was in trouble with Alice for lying, feeling guilty about the fact that I couldn’t deny there was still something there. Most of all, I was angry because you’d chosen that moment—when I was finally moving on—to decide you cared.”
“What made you change your mind?” I whisper, blinking back tears and clinging to his hand.
“You’re different, but the same. The same passion, same spirit. But last night, I felt good with you. Talking and listening. When you told Alice that you hoped we’d be happy . . . I believed you.”
Every word swells my heart with a dangerous hope. “I meant it. After everything I put you through, you deserve to be happy.”
“I’m hoping that means you’re still volunteering to be the one to make that happen.”
Fear and exhilaration tingles euphoria through my limbs. This is happening. “Noel, I love you . . . I started to fall for you on our first date, I think, when you showed up early to buy the tickets so we wouldn’t have that awkward who’s-paying moment.”
His fingers squeeze mine so hard they pinch and start to go numb, transmitting pure, undiluted joy. “I love you, too.”
THE EMOTION OF having my love returned combined with the burst of outlandish pleasure of his hands on the bare skin of my legs made my eyes roll back in my head. Noel’s full mouth lands on mine, hot and demanding, his tongue parting my lips and playing with mine. I open my body the way I opened m
y heart and yank his shirt up over his head. My palms brush down over his hard chest, roaming the tight stack of his abs before diving for the button on his shorts. Those are gone a moment later, and he shoves me onto my back against the pillows, fingers digging into my hips.
“Jesus Christ, I’ve missed you.”
The raw desire in his words shudders through me, drips heat between my thighs, and I tighten my arms around his neck, desperate to reassure myself he’s really here with me. He rolls off to the side, tugging my almost-naked body against his, and electricity pops between our skin.
We go slow, kissing and touching, retracing lines grown over with time, opening familiar grooves, reveling in the rediscovery of a treasured possession.
When Noel runs a hand down my hip and cups my rear, lifting my hips level with his, it presses his hardness against my belly. His fingers trail lower, teasing me before dipping inside me.
He groans into my mouth. “My Tressa.”
The words spike my blood with desire until I feel drunk from wanting him, and as he works me toward a climax, I reach between us and wrap my hand around him. The lazy pleasure of the past minutes evaporates, his tongue plundering my mouth, hands busy as my heartbeat quickens. Noel’s breath pants hot on my neck, and he pushes me onto my back, positioning himself over me.
His fingers abandon their teasing strokes, and he lowers his mouth to my breasts, paying them such maddening attention I start to shake with need. He nudges my legs apart as his lips find mine again, hovering above me as he’s done so many times before. The knowledge that this time will be different flutters my heart.
Noel opens his eyes and grins, gaze full of impish delight. “Are you sure?”
It’s a question he’s asked me a hundred times before, and the instinct to tease back dies before it catches, dimmed by the enormity of the question, of the overhaul his life has taken in the past twenty-four hours.
