Who left you?
I rested my head on his shoulder and stared at our questions. We were left behind. Forgotten. Unwanted. Neglected by the people that were supposed to love us. We hadn’t learned to love ourselves because of it, at least not the way we both deserved. The thought of leaving him behind, of ever not wanting him, made me want to prove whoever left him wrong.
I chose to gloss over his question and he did the same.
Why did you talk?
What did I sound like?
Truthfully? Sex on top of gruff and then maybe even a little bit of spank me and take me now.
He raised his eyebrows at me, making me laugh softly for the first time today.
Spanking? You’re into that?
I shrugged.
No. I’m more into escaping. If that makes sense. Whatever works. And if it works I haven’t wanted to change it. I’ve been this way for a long time.
I willed him to understand my struggle. This silent, desperate struggle that didn’t take well to acknowledgement. If I acknowledged it then I’d set it free. I’d give James the right to break me. In my experience if you gave someone that ability they took it more often than they didn’t.
I’ve been the way I am for a long time too, Becca. I thought I wanted to. But I’m learning that maybe I was only that way because I was protecting myself. The only people in my life who wanted me are Kent and Uma. It’s only ever been those two, so I don’t know how to—
He seemed to struggle with his explanation.
Be anyone else. And if I can’t be anyone else then Kent and Uma are probably all I’ll ever get. So I forced myself to only want them. Because falling hurts, Becca. I don’t want to fall anymore.
Maybe my struggle wasn’t the only struggle in the room. Needing to touch him, I reached over and dragged my fingers through his silky hair. His scruff was starting to come back. The rough hair at the base of his jaw scraped enticingly against my palm. He leaned into my touch. The gesture was so intimate. So honest. He wanted to get closer to me, so he did. An overwhelming sense of something tingled in my chest. It was warm and light, slowly burning its way across my body. If I was painting it would spread out from the center of the page and overtake it completely. Reds, golds, oranges, and even shades of white would bloom from the page. A blank canvas coming alive, bursting with color and purpose.
I couldn’t figure out which one I was or which one I wanted to be. The blank canvas or the painting that finally had a purpose.
James resumed writing on the tablet.
I don’t want Tess. I don’t want anyone but you. I can’t stop thinking about you. When you’re not here I’m waiting for you to get back. When you’re gone I think you’re gone forever. That kills me, Becca, when I think you’re gone forever. I’ll take you how I can get you. If you want this your way then that’s how this will be. But you have to want this. I know there’s nothing to want when it comes to me, but I need you to want it anyway.
He couldn’t be further from the truth. There was so much inside of him worth wanting. Rage moved through me as I contemplated who drove that way of thinking home for him. Which selfish, careless bastard told James he wasn’t worth it? Probably the same selfish, careless bastard who told me the same thing. I snatched the tablet from him with shaking hands, seconds from falling.
I could be here all day writing down the things about you I want. It’s like you were the final catalyst in my life to force me to admit that maybe things aren’t fine. I’m not fine right now, James. My world is falling apart. I don’t know who I am anymore. I’m not a sister, a mom, I’m just Becca. Without Rain it’s like I have to start over and be someone else. I don’t know who that girl is. And then there’s you. You make me want to fall, James. But I’m scared. I’m so afraid of hurting like that ever again. That pain—it’s terrifying. It’s only ever been me and Rain and now it’s just me. I’m alone. I—
I couldn’t finish. The tablet slipped from my shaking fingers and his arms were around me, pulling me roughly against his chest. Just as well. I couldn’t see my through my tears anyway. I broke apart like a piece of glass hitting concrete. I had no idea I was this fragile, this capable of shattering. James rocked me back and forth, his warm breath in my ear, whispering things that made the fall worth every second of pain.
“My world’s breaking apart too, Becca. Maybe we have to fall one more time before we get back up again. If you need me to fall with you, I will. I’ll be right there. I’ll help you up this time. And you’ll help me up too, won’t you?” He sounded painfully unsure.
I nodded against his chest.
“I don’t know who I am anymore, either. Maybe I never did. Maybe we were just trying to protect ourselves all these years. No one else ever did it, did they, Becca?”
I shook my head.
“I can help you figure out who you want to be. Because you’re right, Rain’s got her own life to live now. She’ll be your sister forever, but it’s your turn to start living. Can I know the new you?”
My heart was opening, spilling its contents all over him. I nodded.
“You’re not alone anymore. I’ve been alone my entire life. Kent and Uma always had their own lives. I’ve never had someone who wanted me to be a part of theirs. Can I be a part of your life?”
It happened. Finally happened after all these years. I fell hard. The impact was as painful as I imagined. My father was nowhere to be found. My mother wasn’t either. She was someone I didn’t want to be. I did my best to be the opposite. In that method I became someone who sought men for her gain, not someone who wanted them past that. Rain was with her husband, starting a brand new life. I hoped it was magical. And special. And full of so much happiness and joy she never felt pain again. But when I looked up James was there, his breathtaking blue eyes full of his own hurt.
“Yes,” I answered, giving him the answer, the only one there ever was.
I wasn’t alone anymore.
My knees were skinned, my chest was opened, and the loneliness I lived with my entire life was struggling to take me. It warned me how painful it would be when this man left.
How broken he would leave me.
To shut the loneliness up James kissed me, pouring every ounce of himself into this kiss. I succumbed.
The pain wasn’t as excruciating knowing he was feeling it with me.
But it was painful nonetheless.
Chapter Fourteen
James
The moment Becca walked back into my apartment I knew I’d do anything to prevent her from leaving again. Last night I was sure she was gone. It was losing my mother all over again. I wouldn’t be the same after that fall. I’d accepted this life for what it was, endless and lonely. People had no problem leaving me behind, even before I made the realization they were gone. There was nothing special or shocking about Becca leaving.
What was special was she came back. No one ever had. Not my father, my mother, any woman after her, Tess—these people were gone because that’s what they wanted. They tricked me. They made me care about them and then they showed me how pathetic I was because of it. I’d given Becca no reason to come back. But when we locked eyes I could detect every fear and every ounce of pain inside of her. It was identical to my own. There were other similarities between us the naked eye couldn’t pick up on. On the inside maybe we weren’t so different. It was hidden inside of us and only we knew it. We endured it. We were the way we were because of our hurt.
Our kiss eventually slowed. That was twice she’d stopped us from ending up where we both wanted to. I didn’t know the details of Becca’s fears, but I’d seen enough in her eyes and from what she admitted to know they weren’t going to disappear overnight because she finally admitted she didn’t want to be just my friend. There were other admissions still left that neither of us were ready to explore. So I released her lips and kissed down her jaw instead, burying my face in her neck as I tasted her soft creamy skin.
Our fears, though individually diff
erent, were festering.
If anything they had grown. Her body was tense. My own muscles were corded tightly. Her breaths fanned across my cheek, fast and hectic. My lungs struggled in my chest. Her hands were fisted at her sides. My hands gripped fistfuls of her clothes, holding her in place. When I realized how it looked, to hold onto a woman that way, I let her go. The fact that I was losing what little self-respect I may’ve possessed by begging her and holding on to her didn’t bother me as much as one would think.
Those it bothered had never been me. They’d never had to let go of anyone, and know that person didn’t even bat an eye when they left.
Self-respect wasn’t worth scaring her away. I could do this. I could be whatever she wanted. If that meant a man she wanted sometimes, I’d take it. If that meant being the man she wanted all the time, I’d gladly live with it. If that meant being the man she ended up not wanting at all, then I’d deal with that too, even if the thought brought forth a wave of sickening anxiety. To shake it off I moved her hoodie—my hoodie—away from her shoulder and kissed her smooth tempting flesh.
“Relax,” I said across her skin, wanting my sweatshirt off her.
Her fingers were in my hair suddenly. The action felt…uncontrolled, wanting. For most of my life my ability to talk felt more like the ability to fail. I’d known if I continued to be lacking, as lacking as I already was, Becca would find someone who could talk to her, who could earn her reply. I should thank Tess. If it weren’t for her gross display of power last night I never would have learned that maybe my insecurities came from my own self. I knew deep inside I disliked most things about me. I never stopped to think too closely about the particulars, but regardless of what anyone said I knew I wasn’t going to talk a girl’s panties off. But Becca responded to the sound of my voice and I bathed in the shower of relief.
“Let’s take this off.” I reached beneath her sweater but her hands shot down to stop me. I looked up quizzically. Her long black eyelashes were fanned out in a way that matched her tattoo. Elegant dark feathers rimming gold. Her hair was twisted on my new pillowcase, black against blue. The uncertainty and fear in her eyes was so unlike the girl I met the first night at Second Chances.
I had my shell and Becca had her strength. Both had become torture chambers. A shell protects and strength does the same, but after a while being afraid to venture out or being afraid of weak moments began to close you in. Fear prevented change, because it hid the way out. It kept you locked inside.
She reached over and grabbed the tablet, hastily transforming her thoughts into words. When she’d finished she held it up for me to read.
I’m going to go shower. You put a shirt on. And sunglasses. And stop touching me. And don’t talk. Please don’t talk. The sound of your voice makes me want to rip your clothes off and have your babies. I’m not ready to destroy this kickass figure having your messy-haired children, James. Be more considerate.
I watched in amusement when she dropped the tablet and grabbed her duffle bag, closing my bathroom door after her. She was fidgety and unsure now. As I put on a shirt I knew I probably looked the same way. To save myself of images of her naked body, I left her alone.
Josh and his one-night stand, a girl with more hair than brains apparently, was in the middle of sipping a mug of coffee.
I glared at the empty pot and then turned my glare on him. Douchebag ass-face shithead. He opened his mouth to talk but I looked away, starting a new pot for Becca and me. His one-night stand brushed up against me as she placed her empty mug in the sink. I knew he had a girlfriend. She frequented the apartment when his other toys weren’t around.
Straightening up, I watched as she winked at me, hair rumpled from sex and smelling strongly of Josh’s potent dickhead cologne. It reminded me of that frat party Kent dragged me to last year. He’d ended up ditching early with a girl, leaving me alone in a sea of drunken women and men who smelled just like that. I ignored her and stared at the coffee maker, watching the rich dark liquid drip lazily into the pot. Now that Becca was back, my appetite had returned.
The fridge was packed thanks to Raina. I knelt down and searched for the bagels I knew were in there, coming away with them just as the one-nighter did it again. I glanced at Josh, but he was on his phone, engrossed as his date “accidentally” brushed her hand across the front of my pajamas while she ripped a napkin off the roll. She was wearing one of his Miami Heat jerseys, long tan legs jutting out of the bottom. When our eyes met she winked again.
Too late I realized why. Becca’s hickey struck again. This girl had the same branding on her own neck. The difference was she had four small ones, all different shapes and sizes, varying in different hues of purple. Josh probably didn’t give her all of them. For some reason it made me sad for her. I knew what that felt like. Pathetic sex was my usual MO. Her eyes were dark, dark brown, and her hair was golden, offset by her smooth tan skin. She was gorgeous, but on the edge of her gaze was something subtly wrong that made me want to steer clear. There were women like Becca who did what they had to do to protect themselves, and then there were women like this, who did what they wanted to watch the world burn.
My world had burned enough already. So I winked back, not dumb enough to piss off a woman with fire in her eyes. Her mouth moved. By the time I looked up I’d caught the tail end of her sentence. “—phone number?”
Before I could deny her request her head snapped up. My own followed, finding a narrow-eyed Becca on the edge of the kitchen. Her hand was on her hip, and she was dressed in nothing but a camisole and a pair of black cotton shorts. I ignored her moving mouth as my gaze took her in. Her skin glowed, her long black hair was damp and pushed to one side of her head. Her nipples were hard. I imagined pulling her shirt down and taking one into my mouth, sucking on her hard pink flesh as she came undone beneath me.
Tearing my eyes from her body, I forced myself to view the situation for what it really was. Becca’s face was lethal as she interacted with the one-nighter, who seemed to find the interaction, well, entertaining. I looked to Josh for help, but the douche practically had a hard-on.
I did the only thing I could to defuse the situation. I set the bagels down, marched past the one-nighter, and grabbed Becca’s face between my hands. I ignored her startled expression and pressed my lips to hers, kissing her toothpaste mouth as hard as I could.
There, I thought. Problem solved.
I released her and went back to the bagels, taking two out and carefully separating them before putting them in the toaster. Becca sidled alongside me with an amused look on her face, arms crossed over her chest and bottom lip between her teeth.
Before talking I looked around carefully. Just because Becca seemed okay with it I wasn’t willing to risk doing it in front of Josh. “Cream cheese?”
She shook her head yes and then grabbed two clean mugs, filling both with coffee and cream. I joined her at the table and watched as she bit into her bagel ravenously. Where had she been last night? I swallowed the anger my suspicions brought forth. Still, they couldn’t help suggesting images of her with another man. It didn’t help knowing what Tess had done to me. Guilt joined my jealousy, until the food was a lump in my throat. One thing was for certain. Just friends would never be enough.
She seemed lost in her own thoughts, glancing at me briefly here and there. She sipped her coffee and ate her breakfast while I struggled with this new arrangement. She wanted me—she’d said so. But did that mean she’d want other people as well? If she did I’d have to learn how to share her, even if the thought left an excruciating taste behind in my mouth. It wasn’t as if I’d given myself another option. How long would she want this?
How long would she want me before she realized that I wasn’t worth wanting?
Under the table her bare foot tapped mine. I wondered what my face looked like. My eyes flashed to hers as she dragged her foot up my shin, along my inner thigh, and then nestled her toe against my groin. My groin tightened and the lust I always
felt around her chased the bad thoughts away. I’d never had something I wanted in the moment. I shouldn’t think of later when she wasn’t here. I should just enjoy her now. When she left I’d find a way to exist without her. Or I wouldn’t exist…
It wouldn’t be the first time.
“Where did you sleep last night?” Or I could give in to the insecure bastard inside me. That was always an option.
“Max’s place,” she answered, running her toes along the length of my hard-on.
Trying to think around the blood loss was challenging. “Friend?” I asked, watching her expression intently.
She nodded, massaging me harder. “Jealous, James?”
Of course I was jealous. It was time to admit it to myself and to her. Becca was the only woman to ever make me rage-inducing, can’t-think-straight jealous. The idea that she’d do anything to another man what she had done to me made it difficult to think straight. But I wasn’t the only one here who suffered from it. She branded me, she kept me from Tess—Becca claimed me long before I let her. In a way she did it the moment she kissed me for the first time. I knew what I was missing, but I hadn’t known for certain until I tasted her lips.
Until I tasted her.
“Yes,” I answered.
Her eyes glazed over at the sound of my voice. Part of me doubted her sincerity, but another part of me wondered whether deep down it was me who really hated the sound of my voice. The revelation required blood to think. I moved away from her foot and scooted back, feeling nauseous suddenly. What if all this time no one despised my voice? What if I was the only one who couldn’t stand the idea of this new me?
It wasn’t entirely new. I’d been this man since I was a child, perhaps longer. This lost, bitter, forgotten man. Who would want to be this person? This pathetic, unwanted bastard? Becca was beside me, grabbing my face, trying to get my attention. I ignored her, on the edge of something damaging. Somehow despising myself hurt far worse than a stranger doing it. That would mean on top of the world pushing me away, my mother pushing me away, I was pushing me away too. I wanted nothing to do with myself.
My Vicious Demise (Demise #2) Page 19
