Falling: A Love Story

by lesley,allyn

  “Shoot.”

  “Why do you call her Sissy?” It’s just one of many questions about her, but specifically Chelsea, that’s plagued me.

  “Chelsea was too long for me to say over and over as a kid, and I was so happy to finally get a sister so that’s the reason for her nickname. We may look different on the outside, don’t share anything biological, but the thing that matters most is that my Sissy loves me.” Her shrug would indicate it’s no big deal but the small catch in her low voice tells me what she’s shared with me and her relationship with Chelsea is special. “Can I ask you a question?”

  I nod, too choked up to say much else.

  “Why are you here? I mean I know it’s because Jazzy asked you to drive me, but you could’ve said no.” She turns away from looking out her window toward me. “Why’d you say yes?”

  “Because you needed a ride to get to your Sissy,” I bluster out, but if I’m being honest, I’m here today out of morbid curiosity. For the past eight months, I’ve effectively cleansed my mind, sheets, and dreams of all things Chelsea. I’ve lobotomized all thoughts of her from my brain. No easy feat, but whatever, it was mind-over-matter. Like I told Chuck about the smoking habit I kicked, I’m addicted to nothing, and nothing controls me. When I think about that last night I spent with her, and how it ended, I know she was playing me. I was a sucker for Chelsea’s counterfeit innocent face and come-fuck-me body.

  Innocent, my ass!

  She set me up good that night. I mean, really, who gives their virginity—so, yeah, I figured that out after seeing the blood—to a virtual stranger, and then tiptoes out in the early morning hours? I’ll tell you what kind of woman does that: the kind who wants to be free of her virginity so she can go dick crazy in her college years. Chelsea’s probably fucked her way through the nerds, jocks, and the professors. Maybe she’s now moved on to the university’s cafeteria’s workers.

  The thought of her fucking other men pisses me off. I get an overwhelming urge to strangle any motherfucker who thinks he can dip his dick in my pussy. It’s an irrational thought I know, but I can’t help myself. Her leaving the way she did only reconfirmed what I’ve held to be true over these years: brown-haired bitches can’t be trusted.

  She left me just like Jess and MeMaw.

  “You okay over there?” Emma asks.

  I nod my head, too choked up to open my lips and share actual words. Every time I think of those two, this happens. A deep sense of what-the-fuck and anger... lots of anger. I made a vow to myself that they would be the last people to leave me. Since them, I always leave first. Chelsea reminds me too much of Jess, and that isn’t good. For her sake and my sanity, I have to stay away from her.

  “Dyllan?”

  I hear Emma’s concern, but ignore it until I trust that my voice won’t give anything away. Seconds later, I’m surer of myself and speech, responding, “I’m good.”

  She laughs a little before going on and on about her surprise visit to cheer up her sister, who sounded depressed and didn’t seem to be enjoying the college life. “Every time we talk, she sounds like death warmed over, you know?”

  I don’t actually know, but I keep my lips sealed. Emma looks like she just needs the to ramble, and get whatever is on her chest off. Talking seems to be helping her anxiety.

  “Oh, wow, we’re so close to her dorm,” Emma informs, pointing a finger to my left as I pull into a parking space.

  As we’re both exiting the car, she says, “I like that there’s only freshmen living here.” I say nothing but just listen to her as we walk over to the building. “Those upperclassmen can be horny toads.”

  So can eighteen-year-olds. I don’t say that out loud as Emma walks by me. I take in the low-structured buildings and a tower that shoots up from the center of them all.

  “How do you plan on getting inside?” We’re both looking at the swipe mechanism that would allow us into the dorm.

  “Where is everyone?” she wonders, peering inside, maybe hoping a student is coming out who’d let us in.

  “I don’t know. Maybe in class. It is Friday.”

  “It’s also April’s Fools.” She gives me a look like I’m crazy. “My professors cancelled all of our classes.”

  I shrug, because what I know about the workings of college is so little that offering an opinion about university holidays isn’t worth it. Emma moves away from me, and just then I see a shadow. “Hey. Hey.” I bang on the door, alerting the student, and maybe scaring her a little in the process. “Thanks,” I tell her once she opens the door. Emma goes before me. Before we can ask a question, the girl hurries away.

  “I’m just going to see if there’s someone around to help me find Sissy.”

  I walk over to the empty desk that looks like it’s for security personnel. “I can’t believe I’m here,” I mutter to myself, sitting atop the desk. In another four months, it’ll be a year that my life was turned inside out by her presence in the garage. I shake my head, not wanting to think about that.

  Not five minutes later, the one and only Chelsea saunters through the door, laughing no less, with a blond who’s sporting a mohawk. What the fuck? I stand when I see one of dude’s arms is draped over her shoulders and her hand is around his waist. They look intimate. Too damn intimate for my liking. Chelsea’s head is down, so she doesn’t see me, but this guy... oh, yeah, he sees me. I frown, staring at his arm that has no business being anywhere near a woman who’s supposedly ‘depressed’. I know my face looks like I’ve swallowed something nasty. He stops them from walking any farther.

  “Why did you...” she begins, then looks up, where our eyes connect.

  Surprise registers in her brown eyes. I don’t need a mirror to tell me that I’m wearing a grimace. Chelsea’s jaw slackens, but she quickly closes it before she shares the tiniest of grins with me. Folding my arms over my chest with one of my eyebrows cocked up toward my hairline, I do nothing but stare... at her then at the slimeball’s arm then back at her. Now, her look matches mine. Good, that’s the perfect reaction I want. She’s as disgusted as I am.

  “Oh, there you are,” Emma blurts out, joining us and rushing toward her sister.

  Dude slinks backward when Emma clears her throat, allowing the sisters to embrace. I sure hope she gave him the stink eye, but I’ll never know, because my sight never wavers from the asshole near Chelsea.

  “When did you...” She pauses before she starts back up again. “When did you get here?” She releases Emma from their hug, motioning toward me.

  From the corner of my eye, I can tell Emma is confused, but I continue to look ahead, to look at the one still too close to Chelsea.

  “Not long. Maybe twenty minutes. Right, Dyllan?” she inquires.

  I know what she’s trying to do. Emma wants to draw me into the conversation, maybe to stop my murderous looks at the boy behind her sister.

  “Sounds about right,” I growl low when the bastard places both hands on Chelsea’s shoulders. My blood boils when she doesn’t shrug off his offending hands. I thought she was a smart cookie, but what she does next tells me either I need to stop making assumptions or she’s clueless how close I am to raging on both of them.

  She pats one of his hand and smiles up at him. That move looks protective, but I know it’s really a message for me to fuck off. I can see it in her eyes. It’s clear from her firm grip on his hand and how close she allows him beside her. However, when Chelsea hesitates to speak then kind of stutters, I question what I think I’ve seen.

  “Th-this is Andrew Haynes. Drew, this is Em.” Chelsea never looks my way.

  “And you are?” he asks me.

  “He’s, well, this is—”

  The stuttering bullshit file away at any decency I was raised with. Ma and Chuck would chew my ass off, but they’re not here. I step forward, right in front of them. “Dyllan. Her man.” I shove my hand toward him.

  Around me, I hear gasps. From who, I don’t know, because my focus remains on Chelsea.
>
  She and Drew both yell simultaneously, “What?”

  I’m wearing my fakest smile. “April Fools.” I have to get out of here. I’m trying too hard. And, I don’t need to try at shit! “She’s all yours, dude.” Obviously, I need to get my head examined to even joke that I could ever be hers. I need to stick to my sensible assumptions about Chelsea: she’s just not who I thought she was no matter how innocent she appears.

  Chelsea dry swallows, hey boy toy’s face is tight, and I can feel Emma’s intent gaze on my side profile. The air is filled with uncomfortable silence and nervous energy.

  I step back, realizing I’m the cause of the change in the atmosphere. Enough of this fuckery. “Emma, I’m—”

  She interrupts me with a hand on my arm. “We’re not leaving yet, are we?”

  I can feel the tenseness vibrating through her hand and her pleading gray eyes compel my mouth to open. I drag a deep breath into my lungs, silently reminding myself this day isn’t about me. I step away from Emma. “I’ll be around. You have my cell number right?” Before she’s answered me, I’m stepping forward and forcing Chelsea’s preppy friend to detach himself from her side.

  “I have it,” Emma says.

  I take another step, because he’s still not as far as I’d like. By this time, his face looks like a red tomato, one I’d love to smash, but instead of violence, I opt to do something else. At first, I was only going to play with her, let her know her man—I mean, he has to be her boyfriend, right?—is a pussy, but going near her like this, all it does is put my fucking emotions and hormones into a tailspin.

  I stop beside her. I know she sees me, yet she refuses to look up at me. Bending my head, I turn my lips to her cheek and kiss it. I try my best not to inhale her sweet scent. But, I fail. My head stays in that position as I lower my voice so my words reach only her. “He’ll never make you scream like I did.” I like hearing her hiss. When I pick up my head, the lust rolling off her almost takes me under like quicksand. So everyone can hear me, I say while holding Chelsea’s gaze, “When you’re ready, you know how to reach me.”

  “O-okay,” Emma responds with confusion in her tone.

  I intentionally brush the arm of the woman who has crept under my skin. Before I leave, I decide to throw the pussy beside her a bone. The slap my hand throws on his chest is purposefully hurtful.

  “Ugh,” the man-bitch grunts out in obvious pain.

  I go close to him, whispering, “Your nick name starts with the right letter, but, sonny, you’re not me.” I pat his chest a couple of time. “You’re her weak substitute of the real thing she wants.” I look at Chelsea, who’s now frowning then I focus back at the asshole to my right and grin. “You take care now.”

  Skipping down the stairs, I have no fucking clue what I’ll do to pass the time. One thing I know: I wasn’t going to hang out with those three. Sure, I felt good back there telling that dickhead the lie how Chelsea wants me, will always want me, but I know he still gets to be with her anytime he desires. I’ll probably never be in his shoes ever again, even if I were the last man on Earth. To hell with this shit.

  Trailing behind a loud group, I find myself entering a pub-like eatery with students littering the place as if some classes have just ended. I stroll over, reading the menu posted above the open window where you order.

  “Get the southwestern burger. It’s the best,” a feminine voice suggests.

  Once I turn around, I’m met by a woman almost as tall as me with wavy, blonde hair that ends right above her breasts. This place is getting better by the minute. Giving her the lopsided grin I’m sure came from my father since I can’t remember seeing Jess grin let alone smile. “Really? I’ll only get the best if the best-looking girl here decides to eat with me.”

  She grins widely, which I take as a yes to my invitation. And, that’s how women react to me. I don’t chase anyone; they come to me. The more I think about that, the testier I get about the whole Chelsea situation.

  “My name’s Meaghan. And you are?”

  “Dyllan. Let’s order and get out of here later.”

  Once we’re sitting across from each other, she asks, “Are you transferring in?”

  “How do you know I don’t already go here?”

  She leans over, the tops of her full breasts on display, which I don’t miss. “Because I’d know.” She winks. “So, transferring or visiting?”

  Her name has flown out of my memory, even though she’s told me a few times during our lunch. “This is a short visit, sweets. I’ll be gone in a few hours.” Thank fuck.

  She pouts, drawing my attention to her lips, which is what she meant to do because I see it in her eyes. “Well, what shall we do with you while you’re here?” The gleam in her green eyes is a dead giveaway into her thoughts.

  “I’m game to anything you have planned,” I inform her.

  Over the next few hours, she takes me on a tour of the expansive campus and tells me about upcoming construction projects and the like. I’m not at all focused while she rattles off about legends and university myths. Every now and then, I throw out a few “Uh huhs” to let her know I’m still with her. But, I’m not. I find myself looking at every person who’s around Chelsea’s height, then my heart does this weird racing thing, and my hopes soar, believing I’ll get a glimpse of the woman I can’t get out of my mind. Unfortunately, none of them is ever Chelsea.

  We’re back to where I left Emma and her sister. “This is the Indian Quad. Only freshmen live here.”

  Time to get to the nitty gritty. The daylight’s sun has receded and the dropping temperature puts me in the mood for a different kind of warmth that doesn’t come from a heater. “And where do you lay your pretty head?”

  “In this dorm.”

  I remain silent.

  “You want to come up?”

  I’m glad she doesn’t pretend with me. Any other time, a woman who knows and says what she wants would turn me on. Now, I find myself wishing another girl, one with brown hair, was standing in front of me and inviting me up to her dorm room. Then the blonde moves and all I want, is to seeing her out of those black leggings and top. If I can’t have who I want, I might as well take her up on her offer. “I want to come... up”

  She licks her lips. “Okay.”

  I’ve not heard from or seen Emma. I’m not sure what they’ve done, but I figure girls like to chitchat and gossip, so I still have some time to kill. It’s got to be about six or six-thirty in the evening, the latest.

  “Come on.” She grabs my hand, and we cross the little street toward her dorm. Once on her floor, I press my hard-on into her ass, which makes her fumble with the room key. Lifting her blonde hair to the side, she moans, exposing more of her neck to me.

  “Dyllan, you’ve got me so turned on. I wanted you as soon as I saw you.”

  The door crashes into the wall with force. I briefly note the two twin beds, one on each side of the room. “Where’s your roommate?” I ask, dodging the lips she tries to plant on mine. I run my hand through her hair and bring her closer to me.

  “That mouse? Oh, damn.” She moans, pushing her lower half into my stiff cock. “Um, she’s probably studying. It’s all she does, or talks on the phone with her—”

  “I don’t care,” I mumble into her neck, sucking on her flesh and opening up her jacket.

  There’s grunting, moaning, and then her clothes go flying all over. My pants hit the floor before I put on a condom. We move from the chair to the desk. She comes, screaming like a banshee. Next, my ass hits the bed. She backs me up, straddling me and swiveling her hips on me, chasing the orgasm I’m withholding from her. She had another one since we’ve been fucking on the bed already.

  The doorknob jiggles, but I’ve no time to wonder who’s coming inside. I’m on a mission. I need to come, but it’s fucking elusive as usual, ever since meeting Chelsea. I have no problem getting it up. But, fuck me if I can’t come. Like ever. No damn lie.

  I know what I need to do;
if I see her, then I’ll come. The blonde is too caught up to hear anything as the door opens up a little. I turn my head at the sound. My hazel eyes meet narrowed, astonished brown eyes.

  “Chels,” I breathe out.

  And I come.

  Hard.

  Inside the blonde as she yells my name.

  “Dyllan?” Chelsea’s voice sounds strangled.

  The door slams.

  I push the chick’s hips, who’s all limp and in a daze. “Get off,” I bark out, feeling like shit.

  Chapter Six

  Birthdays usually are a family affair. Today’s my twenty-fifth birthday, and I expect the usual: dinner with the parents then drinks and maybe something more at my favorite club with my brothers tagging along.

  My morning began as it always does: with a dream about Chelsea. Ever since our fucked up reunion of sorts three months ago, she’s starred in my nightly dreams and daydreams. I can’t seem to shake her, and I don’t want to. The strange part was that for the first time since she showed up in my dreams, she wasn’t out of my reach. We were holding hands while we walked through a park. I didn’t know if that was a blessing or an omen. My day takes a strange turn with an unplanned last-minute meeting with the family our secretary informs me about as soon as I get to work. One thing about the Sterlings, we don’t do anything impromptu if it pertains to business.

  As soon as her statement hits my ears, my long legs are gobbling up the stairs, and in five seconds, I’m inside, where Chuck sits in his usual place at the head of the table. On his right sits Ma, JC, and then EC.

  “Good of you to join us,” Chuck says as soon as my ass hits the soft cushion of the chair. “I’ll cut to the chase. I’m retiring.” He grins from ear to ear, clasping Ma’s hand in his.

  There’s absolute quiet until JC and EC starts in, voicing their loud opinions.

  “Stop.” Chuck holds up his free hand, silencing my brothers. “I’m an old man, boys. I want to take your mother on trips and spoil her a little. Well, a lot.” He kisses her fingers. “I don’t want to worry about coming in here bright and early on Monday mornings.”