by Regan Ure
He looked agitated and his fingers drummed the steering wheel.
"Does it bug you?" I asked, trying to understand why he asked the question. Granted, Connor had called me a lot more lately because of the whole background-check thing and unearthing the information about Slater's sister. It wasn't information I was ready to share with him yet, though.
He frowned before looking at me briefly. "Yes."
He was jealous! Instead of feeling angry or outraged, I felt happy. It reinforced that he cared about me and I really needed it at that moment.
"You have nothing to worry about," I assured him, and I put my hand over his that rested on his thigh.
He gave me another intense look before his fingers threaded with mine.
It was late by the time we got back into town.
"You want to spend the night with me?" he asked.
"Yes," I said, leaning my head against his shoulder.
It took another ten minutes before he pulled up outside his condo. He took my bag as I got out of the passenger side. He led me by the hand to his place and opened the door. Once inside, he closed the door and put my bag down.
"Are you tired?" he asked, giving me that intense Slater-look. There was more going on in his mind than he was letting on.
"No," I said. He walked to me, intent and purpose in every step.
When he reached me, his hands framed my face and his mouth covered mine. I held on as my feelings, intermingled with the intense chemical reaction between the two of us, exploded.
"I need you now," he said against my lips, his hands on my shirt. I lifted my arms as he lifted it off me.
Our mouths met again, tongues twirling as I began to unbutton his jeans. We broke away long enough for him to get rid of his shirt.
He kissed me while my arms wrapped around his neck. He lifted me off my feet and I wrapped my legs around his waist, needing him as urgently as he wanted me.
I felt the counter beneath me as he set me down on it before stepping back to unzip my jeans and pull them off me with my panties. So many times I had believed we would never be together like this again, and I held on to every touch of my skin against his while I kissed him hard, desperate to connect with him physically as well as emotionally.
He took a few seconds to get protection and slid it on before he filled me, his mouth covering mine as I gasped. My hands threaded through his hair as he thrust into me.
It was hard and quick. And once we both climaxed, I rested my head against his shoulder, trying to catch my breath. But there was something missing. Physically it had felt so right but there had been no emotional connection. It had been sex and nothing more.
I let out a heavy breath, trying to figure out why.
"Are you okay?" he asked, studying me.
I nodded, not quite trusting myself to talk. He studied me for a moment before he pressed a kiss to my forehead.
He lifted me off the counter and I wrapped my legs around him, hugging him close as he carried me to his bedroom.
He put me down on the bed before disappearing into the bathroom to get rid of the condom. When he returned, I was still sitting in the same place. He removed the rest of my clothes and tucked me into the bed.
I lay in his bed, hugging a pillow as I watched him strip naked. He switched off the light and slid into bed with me.
His hands reached for me and I went to him, loving the feel of his strong arms around me. But even lying with him, having just shared the most intimate action two people could share, I knew I had lost him already.
I could delay the inevitable but no matter when I told him, it would be over and I would have to let him go. I burrowed deeper, not wanting to admit I would soon lose him.
Just one more night, I told myself. In the morning I would tell him everything.
"I love you," I whispered to him, but this time he didn't pull back or run away. This time he stayed.
He eased me out of his arms and kissed me. This time when our bodies moved against each other, there was a tenderness that hadn't been between us before when he had taken me on the kitchen counter.
Had my words woken up something in him? I could hope, but I didn't want to build myself up.
This time he took his time. The feel of his body against mine was how I wanted to stay. The warmth of skin against mine, his breath against my cheek. His mouth slid against my skin as he moved down my body, and I gasped when he trailed kisses down my navel. I threaded my hand through his hair as his mouth worked magic, making me think of nothing else than what he was doing.
Unlike before, his touch was slow and caressing.
I clutched the sheets as his hot mouth found my core, and I gasped, my body tense as his tongue flicked against me.
The buildup was quick, and before I could cry out, I felt the first crash of my climax.
He left me only to get protection before he moved above me, and my legs opened so he could settle between them. His mouth found mine as he pushed inside me.
My hands gripped his waist and I panted as we moved as one toward a common goal of release. It was a moment I wanted to last forever but, like everything, it didn't. His mouth covered mine as he thrust into me just as I began to shake. His body tensed above mine and we came together.
Afterward he got rid of the condom and got back into the bed. Satisfied and tired, he held me and I savored it.
Sex with him had always been amazing but this one time was the one I would always remember. It had felt like so much more than just a physical act between two people seeking release.
I took comfort in the fact that because of my actions he would finally be relieved of the burden of his sister's death. At least I had given him something good out of it. Even if he wasn't mine anymore.
That night we slept peacefully until he began to thrash and call out his sister's name again in his sleep. I smothered the start of my tears as I held him, trying to soothe him while he woke up from the nightmare.
"It's okay," I said to him as his eyes opened and he realized it was only a dream.
He pulled away from me and ran a hand through his hair, still trying to make sense of what he had experienced.
I felt the overwhelming need to free him from this agony. I reached out and touched his arm.
"I have something I need to tell you."
He still looked so distressed, it tore at me. His eyes were on me.
I swallowed.
"I don't know how to tell you this..." I began to say, trying to figure out the best way to tell him while I clasped my hands together. "Before I tell you, I need you to know it was never my intention to hurt you."
His forehead creased.
At that moment, his words came back to haunt me about us getting hurt. He was right—it had been inevitable.
As our eyes connected, I wondered how he had foreseen this, or was it the simple fact that caring for someone gave them the power to hurt you? The only way to avoid it would be not to get emotionally attached to anyone.
"What do you need to tell me?" he asked when I quieted down.
Feeling more emotional, I slid out of the bed and pulled on one of his shirts. I was feeling so vulnerable so I crossed my arms.
"I love you," I said, needing him to know one last time how much he meant to me.
He slid out of the bed and pulled his jeans on.
"It's bad, isn't it?" he asked as I swallowed my fear.
There was a part of me that wanted him to say that nothing I could say would change the way he felt about me, but he didn't say anything.
"I have never cared for someone the way I do about you," I continued. "I've always kept myself from getting attached. It was easier. But then I met you and from that moment onwards it wasn't my choice anymore."
He stood before me, dressed only in jeans, his chest bare. I could still feel his skin under my hands.
"Then you rejected me." He tried to reach out for me, but I put my hand out to stop him.
"I need to finish this," I told h
im. I feared if he touched me I would waver. He nodded and dropped his hand. "I didn't know how to deal with it. Then that night you had a nightmare and called out your sister's name. When I asked about her, you left, completely shutting me out. Through some weird reasoning, I decided if I understood your past it would be easier to deal with the rejection."
His eyes held mine. It was hard to decipher what he was thinking. Did he have some idea where I was headed with this?
"I called Connor and asked him to look into your past to find out who Shannon was and what happened."
I watched as his features tightened. Soon there would be only anger. I fought against the instinct for self-preservation as I continued.
"Let me get this right," he said. "You got Connor to go snooping into my background?"
Slowly I nodded, knowing it was the start of the end.
"You knew it wasn't something I wanted you to know, but that didn't make any difference," he said angrily, raking a hand through his hair before he gave me a disbelieving look.
The end was unfolding right in front of me but there was no way to stop or fix it now. The way he looked at me made my stomach turn and I felt like my heart was being squeezed.
"You want to know how she died? Do you want all the gory details?" He was getting angrier with every word.
I bit my lip, trying to stave off the inevitable tears.
"She struggled in foster care. She didn't have me there to watch over her." I tried to interrupt him, but he put his hand out to stop me.
"You wanted to hear this so badly you went behind my back. Now I'll tell you everything." He was so furious, I hugged myself as tears stung my eyes. "She moved from one home to the next. She had no one but herself."
He drew in a deep breath. "As soon as I was old enough I began to search for her. But when I finally found her, it was…too late."
He paused for a moment.
"She committed suicide when she was sixteen." The sadness in his eyes was too much to watch.
"How did you find out?" I asked, needing to know who had told him that, because I knew it wasn't the truth.
"That's what I was told by that last foster family that she lived with. She jumped off a bridge...her body was never found."
I reached out, needing to comfort him, but he pulled away from my touch. It was the moment I realized I had lost him, and it became harder to breathe. The need to do the right thing and set him free from the grief made me carry on.
"I don't know how to tell you this…" He was still glaring at me.
"There is nothing you can say that I want to hear," he bit out. And I dropped my arms to my sides.
"She isn't dead," I blurted out.
He frowned as he took in my words.
"Connor found her," I explained and I watched an array of emotions cross his face.
"I don't understand. What are you talking about?" he asked, looking bewildered.
"She refused to acknowledge who she is. But Connor ran a DNA test. She is your sister—Shannon is alive."
"A DNA test?" he asked, and I nodded at his question.
He breathed in sharply before he turned away from me. I wanted to hug him but I knew my touch would be unwanted.
After a few moments of watching him, he spun around.
"Where is she?" he asked tersely.
"She's in New York using the name Riley Evans."
He tilted his head up to the ceiling, taking in a breath before he set off into action.
While I watched, he grabbed his shirt. He sat down on the bed and shoved his feet into his boots.
"I need to speak to Connor," he said when he stood up.
I nodded my head and went to get my phone. I dialed Connor and gave the phone to Slater.
"It's Slater," he said a few moments later. I listened to the one-sided conversation, trying to figure out what was being said.
"Where is she?" he asked, pacing the room. "Are you sure?…I'll be there as soon as I can…sure…okay."
He went to his closet and got a duffel bag. While he talked, he threw some clothes in before he walked into his bathroom.
When he walked back into the room, he ended the call and handed me my phone back.
"I'm leaving," he said, his tone precise and angry.
Even though I had expected this, and perhaps worse, it was still hard to cope with the pain I felt.
I was at a loss for what to say. He strode to the door of the bedroom. As he reached the doorway he stopped and looked back at me over his shoulder.
"I don't want you here when I get back." With one last intense look from him, he left.
His words cut right through me. The pain in my chest grew and it became even harder to breathe.
Hurt, I sat down on his bed. My hands touched the sheets where we had shared each other one last time.
The silence was only broken by the sound of the front door slamming closed. A few minutes later I heard his car start up.
I had no one to blame but myself. I had to take responsibility for my actions. I reminded myself that if I hadn't done what I had, he would have continued to believe his sister was dead and would have lived with the guilt of that forever.
Chapter Twenty-Six
I sat there for a good couple of hours, just staring into the distance. The silence was only broken by the sounds of the birds chirping as the sun rose.
Feeling tired and unsteady, I picked up my clothes and then called for a taxi. Going to Taylor wasn't an option for me. I wasn't ready to open up about what had happened between Slater and me. It would entail revealing I went digging into his background and it wasn't something I was proud of.
Besides, I didn't know if Slater wanted anyone else to know. It wasn't my story to tell.
While I waited for the taxi, I got dressed and walked downstairs.
There were so many memories of us in his place. I ran my fingers over the counter briefly before I picked up my duffel bag where Slater had put it the night before. I gazed around one last time, allowing myself to remember everything before I left.
When I closed the door behind me, I leaned against it briefly, overwhelmed by my heartache, but I managed to hold back the tears.
* * *
One day rolled into the next. To everyone around me, I pretended everything was fine even when Levi threw me disbelieving looks. Taylor wasn't convinced either. They were all watching me like I was going to flip out at any minute.
But I didn't. I put one foot in front of the other. I carried on, I went to classes, did my homework.
My curiosity was driving me nuts but I refused to call Connor to find out what was happening.
The couple of times I had spoken to him I hadn't mentioned Slater, and he didn't say anything about what was happening with Slater and Shannon.
It had been a month and Slater was still gone. I had no idea if he was ever going to return. It was probably for the best, since seeing him would make the pain worse. I didn't know how I would cope if I saw him with another girl.
The few times I saw Sin, I had been tempted to ask about Slater but I stopped myself. I never asked and Sin never offered, so I had no idea what was going on.
I could have called Connor to find out but I felt I had lost the right when Slater had ended things between us. He had made it clear he didn't want me in his life so his wellbeing wasn't any of my business. I doubted we would even be able to be friends.
Levi walked around me on eggshells. He even got out the chocolate ice cream Matthew had stocked for me, but no amount of ice cream filled the hole in the middle of my chest that felt like a big, gaping wound that would never heal.
It had played out how everyone had expected, including Slater and me. Looking back, I didn't know why I had even hoped it would work out. Was it watching Taylor and Sin together that had given me hope? Regardless, it didn't matter now.
Matthew called regularly but the only information he got out of me was that Slater and I were over.
Taylor never mentioned anything
about where he was so I had no idea if she knew his whereabouts or if she knew about Shannon, the long-lost sister.
I bumped into Steven in the school cafeteria.
"Hey, pretty lady," he said with that confident smile I had found sexy in the beginning.
But now it made me feel nothing. It was difficult not to compare him to the bad boy whom I had fallen head-over-heels for.
"Hi, Steven."
We talked.
"You just seem really sad. Is everything okay?"
"I had a thing with a guy and it didn't work out," I explained with a shrug, giving away as little as possible.
"That bad?" he said, and I nodded.
"Maybe you should go and see someone," he suggested. I gave him a questioning look. Did I look so bad that I needed a shrink?
"I have a friend who went through a tough time. It might help to talk it out."
What did I have to lose? There wasn't much left over. Before, I wouldn't have even considered it, but I had to find a way to cope with my emotions. I knew from my childhood memories that suppressing them was only a temporary solution that had more destructive repercussions.
"Sure," I said, giving him a weak smile, deciding it was at least worth a chance. Maybe I could tackle my childhood abuse and make some sort of peace with it so I could put it behind me. "I would appreciate it."
"I'll get the number for you and message it to you later," he said, touching my shoulder lightly. "Look after yourself."
I nodded before watching him leave. Despite the warnings from Slater and Sin, I still believed Steven was a nice guy.
My phone began to ring and I looked down to see Taylor come up on my caller ID.
"Hi," I said.
"Hi, Jordan," she greeted. "Can you talk?"
"Sure," I said, giving her my full attention.
"Are you free on Friday night?" she asked.
It wasn't like I had a hectic social life; in fact, the only plans I had included ridiculous amounts of ice cream.
"Yes, why?"
"I want to know if you want to come out with us?" I felt a tightening in the pit of my stomach. Did the 'us' include Slater? I rubbed my temple. I had no idea if he was back in town.
