Living with Regrets (No Regrets book 2)

by Aimee Noalane

  “Sure. Go ahead.”

  I knelt down and petted my new friend while Oliver disappeared behind the door. Enjoying her carefree spirit, I took her ball away from her and threw it as far as I could. We repeated the game twice, but she stopped after I threw her ball a third time. She did her business and then climbed the steps and barked at the door. I followed her in. She was done for the night.

  Regret

  Abbygail

  I could smell Oliver’s body wash as soon as I shut the door. My insides tightened at the sight of him. Beads of fresh water glistened over his chest and rolled down to his plaid pyjama bottoms.

  Focus, Abby, focus!

  “You’re already in?”

  “Yeah, I tossed the ball a couple of times and then she did whatever she needed to do and asked for the door. I guess she didn’t feel like lingering too much outside.”

  He gave me a half smile. “Ok, then. Good night!”

  Really?

  I shook my head and walked back to the guest room to grab medication. By the time I got back to the kitchen, Oliver had left the living room.

  I took the pitcher out of the fridge, and sensed his closeness but refused to look back.

  “Hey, Abs? Are we good?”

  The urge to face him was strong, but I refused to give in. I chose to look out the window instead, focussing on the wind hitting the trees from the mountains.

  “I don’t know, Oliver. You tell me.”

  “Well, I’m good if you are.”

  I plastered on a fake smile and turned around. “Okay. ‘Night then.”

  Idiot!

  “Yup. Good night to you, too.”

  I knew he could see through my lie, yet he decided to overlook my harsh tone. I watched him leave the kitchen and I poured myself some water.

  Fuck this! I’m not going to dwell on this all night...

  I stomped all the way over to Oliver’s bedroom and opened the door. There was a soft light coming from his night table. It was a very masculine room. A mix of gray paint and dark abstract paintings hung on his walls. They fit his personality well.

  I observed him quietly. He was lying on his back with his hands crossed over his head, as though he were looking at the ceiling. When I approached, I noticed his eyes were closed.

  “Abby?” he said surprised.

  “I changed my mind,” I mumbled. “We’re not okay.”

  He frowned.

  I mounted his bed and climbed over him, raising the bottom of my dress a little higher to straddle his body. This kind of behaviour hadn’t been unusual for us in the past—the difference back then was that we were always fully clothed. He inhaled while I enjoyed the pure satisfaction of his stunned face. But what I loved even more was the feeling of his naked body under his thin bed sheet.

  I held his hands over his head.

  “Abs, what are you doing?”

  “How does it feel, Oliver? How do you like being trapped and not having control?

  He raised his knees up making me glide higher up his body. I could feel him grow harder through the fabric. It was the only thing that was keeping him outside my body. My desire for him heightened with the friction.

  He chuckled, “Let’s get something straight, beautiful. You have no control over me. I’m stronger than you are, and if I want you off my body, I’ll lift you off.”

  I pushed myself over his hardness, adding extra pressure as I pulled his hands down over my thighs. I heard him let out a soft moan and smiled. “I beg to differ.”

  I rasped against him, pleasuring myself with his erection. He tried to maintain a certain level of self-control, but as he bucked against my hips I could tell I he was losing his composure.

  “What happened, Oliver, huh? What happened since we spent the night together?”

  He shut his eyes and exhaled slowly, strapping my legs tighter around him.

  “What happened,” I moaned, “to no regrets?”

  The bedsheet was barely protecting anything anymore. Our bodies had moved so much together that it simply slipped off. All I had to do to satisfy my needs was move my hips a little higher and he’d be thrusting inside me. With his hands still on my thighs he took control and guided our every move. He opened his eyes and bucked against me, mastering my pleasure exactly how he wanted me to feel it. He was right: I had absolutely no control.

  “Abby, please,” he whispered lustfully.

  “Please, what, Oliver? Please stop?” I looked into his eyes, and he shut them instantly, almost as if he didn’t want me to read his thoughts. “Or maybe it’s please continue?”

  I took his head between my hands and pulled his face to mine, letting my lips travel along his jaw.

  “Fuck,” he grumbled.

  “I’m sorry. I’m not quite sure what fuck means, Oliver. Do you think you could explain it in clearer terms?” I enjoyed the control I’d regained, and I let my hands travel along his muscular body, tracing the designs that I hadn’t had the chance to admire yet. As my fingers roamed the artistic lines on his chest, my attention focused on one particular tattoo. It was a beautiful black and blue orchid, and instead of a stem, Oliver had my name tattooed over his heart. I teared up.

  He has my name tattooed on his heart? How could I have not seen this before?

  “Abby, stop.”

  I didn’t listen. As I continued to read and trace the letters, my entire world was at a standstill. I let my touch linger over the most recent words written across my name. I knew it was recent enough because the skin was still tender.

  “When did you get this?”

  “Abby, I told you to stop.”

  “And I asked you a question,” I scowled.

  His eyes creased as if he was debating his next move, but instead of talking, he grabbed my hand and pulled it higher around his neck and flipped me over. He hovered over my body letting the tip of his erection graze my entrance.

  “You lost your control,” he taunted.

  “Why won’t you answer me?”

  I looked at his eyes. He was in so much pain. He tried to hide it, but I saw it. I’d known Oliver my whole life. Even with six years of separation he couldn’t get anything past me.

  “You know,” he murmured, “if I wanted too, I could plunge my dick inside you and make you scream my name right now.”

  “But you won’t,” I replied.

  He looked at me surprised. I could tell it wasn’t the reaction he expected. He kissed me roughly, and I lost myself to him. He could win, and he knew he would.

  “I don’t think your mind and your body agree on what they want,” he snickered.

  “You’re right, Oliver.”

  I pulled on his hair so I could whisper in the crook of his neck.

  “My body does crave you, more than you could possibly believe. Regardless of my desires, though, my head wants answers. And my heart needs you to stop. I don’t want you inside my body until you and I talk.” I released my hold on him and pushed my body away from his to face him. I was proud. For once, I maintained my strength and didn’t cave into my desires. Unfortunately, my reaction backfired when Oliver pulled away and slipped on a pair of sweatpants. I was alone in his bed and the whole room felt as though it had dropped a hundred degrees.

  I didn’t want him to leave. I just wanted answers.

  “Oliver.”

  “I got this,” he pointed to the flower and my name. “March 7, 2010 when I turned seventeen years old. You remember that date, right, Abby? You made sure I’d receive your letter just on time. Didn’t you? I wonder how many times you rewrote that one, making sure I had every single important detail of your life...”

  I tried to swallow.

  “March 8, 2010, midnight. That’s when you broke my heart.”

  I could feel the lump in my throat.

  “I begged my mother,” he paused as if he was reliving the conversation.

  “She didn’t agree to me getting a tattoo, but I argued that it was the only thing I wanted for my bir
thday. She couldn’t deny me that because I had already lost so much. She didn’t know what I would get, and she flipped when she saw it.”

  He smiled at the memory.

  “She said: You won’t love her forever, you know. Having her there will only cause you pain. One day, you’re going to regret having her name on your body.”

  “I won’t,” I answered. “Because whether I’m in love with her or not doesn’t make a difference. This isn’t about love. This is about friendship. This is about us. I will always need her. And since I can’t have her holding my hand, I’ll have her here,” he pointed to his tattoo, “mending my heart.”

  He grabbed a sweatshirt and looked at me with a remorseful smile. “I was lying to her, and she knew. But in the end, my mother was right.”

  “You regret me?” I whispered.

  I watched him leave, but he stopped mid step before walking out the door. Letting a loud sigh, he opened his empty eyes and looked at me. The only thing I saw was indifference. The fact that I couldn’t read more than what I saw hurt me more than the whole conversation itself. I couldn’t tell what was real anymore.

  “I do.”

  Oliver

  I fled her tears. I didn’t want to hear her break, so I walked off to the sunroom. The day had started to rise, but it was a dark, rainy day. I could tell by the lack of birds chirping that it would be cold. Taking a blanket out from the drawer, I sat on a lawn chair and lost myself to my unforgivable memories.

  ···

  “Well that was intense,” I heard her say when I walked out of the bar.

  “Get lost, Sam. I don’t need your bull shit right now.”

  “Really? Because it seems to me that your little buddy down there would love a little company.”

  I ignored her and walked off.

  “So she’s the infamous Abbygail Evens, isn’t she?” she asked following me to my truck.

  I hopped on my hood pretending she wasn’t there and lay down.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “Nope.”

  “Aw, come on, Oliver. I’m a good listener when I want to be. So tell me: I heard you went back to your hometown a few weeks ago. Did things not go as planned?”

  “Something like that,” I huffed.

  “What happened?”

  I pictured Abby and Tyler kissing in the hospital room and still felt the same pain. “She’s back with her ex.”

  “Mmm. Well, that sucks,” she answered in a teasing tone.

  I raised my back from the hood and looked at her. “What’s your deal, Sam?”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” she responded innocently.

  “You seem pleased.”

  “I’m not happy you’re in pain, Oliver,” she said walking towards me. “I feel bad that you got hurt, but I’m not going to pretend to be sad about it because I miss you.”

  She put her hands on my legs, and rubbed the inside of my thighs. I needed to stop her; I didn’t want her. What I wanted was the girl that was inside the bar, but I couldn’t have her. So as much as I should have stopped Sam, I lost my will as soon as her firm hand fiddled with my unsatisfied balls. I felt good.

  “I want you,” she said seductively.

  “Yeah? How about you show me how much.”

  She licked her lips and unbuttoned my lose jeans, releasing my untamed erection. She smiled, pleased by the power she still had on me. Sam was hot, and right then, gone was the thought of the girl I couldn’t have. She was replaced by the hot piece of ass that was about to suck my dick.

  She engulfed me inside her mouth, lapping my hard tip until I pushed so far inside I hit the back of her throat.

  “Touch yourself,” I ordered. “I want to hear you come while I fuck your perfect little mouth.”

  She tried to back away to undress from her skirt, but I didn’t let her. I pulled on her hair maintaining my dick inside her mouth.

  “You don’t need your hands to suck me off, Sam. Keep your mouth where it is. Lift your skirt and pull your panties down to your knees. I want to see your ass while you pleasure yourself.”

  I watched as her ass bopped forward to backwards while I set the pace, controlling her, moving her head over my dick, exactly like I wanted to feel her. I could hear the sound of her slickness as she rubbed herself. Her moans vibrated around my cock which made me push further down her throat, making her gag, but not enough to stop her from swallowing me whole.

  I heard the footsteps coming from behind my truck. I figured that maybe I should stop Sam and allow her to preserve her pride, but then changed my mind. I didn’t care about her, and I cared even less about whoever would see us, so I just grunted with every thrust.

  “Oh, for fuck sakes, Oliver?” I heard Noah yell. “Really?”

  My eyes shot up to his disappointment.

  “Leave,” I ordered.

  I pulled out from Sam’s mouth. I could tell she was frustrated but I knew it wouldn’t be for long. I unlocked my truck, pulled her to the passenger side, and opened the door. Reaching out for a condom in my glove compartment I pushed her face down on the seat, wrapped up my dick and spread her legs for me, plunging deep inside. I thrusted fast, satisfying myself greedily until I came loud and hard.

  “Are you done now?” Justin bellowed as I pulled out from Sam.

  She lifted herself from the seat and turned to see who our audience was. “Did you like what you just saw, baby boy?” she smiled. “I doubt that chick of yours would appreciate knowing that you just enjoyed watching my ass fuck your little friend here.”

  “Funny. But I think it was the other way around,” he sneered. “It looked more like he was using your ass to empty his dick.

  She glowered.

  “Enough—both of you. Sam you can clean up and clear out. You’ve got what you wanted, now get lost and don’t call me.”

  ···

  Who would have thought I could be such a dick to another human being? I must have been drunker than I thought…

  “Why?” Abby asked interrupting my thoughts.

  I raised my slumped shoulders and saw her broken features. She’d changed her dress for a pair of jeans and the sweatshirt I’d lent her the night she arrived at my house.

  “Why what?” I said pretending like I had no idea what she wanted to know.

  “Why do you regret me?”

  I didn’t have a good answer. I wanted to tell her the truth. I wanted to tell her that it wasn’t that I regretted her. I wanted to tell her that the words ‘my regret’ were tattooed across her name to fill out the scars I inflicted on myself when I said I was okay with letting her go. I wanted to tell her that I didn’t want her to move on. I wanted to tell her that I missed her and that I needed her, but I couldn’t find the right words. Nothing I could say would excuse the way I acted with her that night, so I remained mute.

  She sighed, “Okay, Oliver, how about this? We both have questions and both want answers, but neither one of us is willing to answer. We are going to play twenty questions.”

  I frowned. I sure as hell didn’t feel like playing a game.

  “It’s the only way I know we’ll both listen to what we have to say, Oliver. If you have a better idea, I’m all ears.”

  “What are the rules?”

  “No hypothetical. We both ask the questions we want, and the other one has to answer. No lies, no pull backs.”

  I gave her a curt nod.

  Might as well get over this once and for all.

  She took a seat on the lawn chair beside mine and looked through the vast horizon beyond the cliff. The wind was making the light rain glide against the glass wall. She shivered, so I handed her my blanket. She smiled sadly at the gesture.

  “I can go first if you want. I’ll start with an easy one.”

  I had no clue how this game would possibly end up being easy, but I played along. I knew very well that regardless of how it panned out, both us would end up being hurt.

  “When did you put your house up for
sale?”

  “About two and a half weeks ago, and it’s not for sale anymore,” I admitted. “A buyer made an offer as soon as I put it on the market, and I accepted.”

  “Where are you going to go?”

  I shrugged. I hadn’t thought that far ahead yet. I was losing my mother’s house and couldn’t go back home. All my plans had backfired, and I had nowhere to go. I just pushed away the idea every time it crossed my mind.

  “Seems to me like you’re regretting your decisions.”

  I stared at the glass ceiling. “I already told you, Abby. I don’t regret any of my choices. Ever.”

  “Except me,” she whispered barely audibly.

  I turned my head and raised my eyebrow in anger. I hated when she mumbled her thoughts. “The game consists of asking questions, Abbygail, not making assumptions. If you have something to ask, then ask. Don’t mutter your thoughts.”

  I saw her eyes flare up at my harsh tone, but she remained quiet.

  “Why did you fly all the way to BC?”

  “I wanted to see you and celebrate the New Year with you.”

  “And where did Tyler spend his New Year’s?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know. His mother’s maybe? Why?”

  “Just a question. I guess I was just curious, that’s all. I mean it’s weird.”

  “What’s weird?”

  “That you don’t know where he is.”

  “Why would I? He’s his own person, Oliver. I don’t keep tabs on what he does.”

  Right then. That’s when I knew. That’s when I figured it all out. That’s when I realized that Laney was right, and that I had made the biggest mistake of my life.

  “Where did you go after you left me in the bathroom hallway at the club?”

  “I don’t have an answer for you.”

  “You can’t not have an answer for me, Oliver. It’s not like you vanished into thin air. You had to have gone somewhere, and you can’t not answer me. It’s the rule.”

  “I went to my car Abby,” which was technically the truth. “Why do you care?”

  “I looked for you.”

  Well it’s a good thing you that you weren’t the one who found me.

  “So where did Stephan spend his New Year?”