Love Wasted

by Shirl Rickman

His smile disappears. “Oh come on, Cassandra. It’s been coming for months now.” He takes a drink of his whiskey on the rocks. “We agreed from the beginning to always be honest.”

  “And I’ve never been anything but honest.”

  “Really? Because I feel like lately, you’re lying to both of us, especially to yourself.” His tone is accusing, and I don’t like it.

  I can feel my face flushing red. “What in the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means this”—he waves his hand between us—“doesn’t work for you anymore.”

  “Did you really just speak for me? Maybe it’s that this relationship doesn’t work for you anymore and you’re projecting.” My words are quiet, but my tone is loud.

  “Cassandra, I’ll be honest, it isn’t working for me anymore, but you need to be honest too.” He gently takes my hand. “You have been skirting around what we’re doing for months. You want more, and I’m not sure I do. I could keep doing this, but you can’t, not to mention…Paxton.”

  I was hearing what he was saying until he mentioned Paxton—then he lost me.

  “Paxton?” I blow out a breath. “Dammit, Richard. I told you there is nothing going on!” My head is starting to hurt because I’m gritting my teeth. My irritation level has never been this high with him.

  “You can say it as much as you want, but there’s something there. Be honest. Shit, you got distant the moment he walked into your birthday party, and it’s progressively gotten worse. Then you got sick, and he took care of you, not me.”

  “That’s your fault!” I interrupted him. “Not mine. I can’t believe you’re going to blame that on me! I’m the one who should be pissed, but no—no, I understood.”

  “You didn’t let me finish. When I walked into your room the next morning to him sleeping beside you, I knew. I will always love you, but let’s be real, you and I as a couple is just comfortable for us. We aren’t together for any other reason, and we’ve let this whole semi-committed relationship go on for too long.”

  I look down at our hands. Mine is in his, and I feel nothing. There are no butterflies, and there isn’t any real sadness. If I allow myself to be honest, really, I almost feel relief. He’s right, I want more, and the reality is I’ve known the more I want is not with him. I’ve been holding on to the dependability of us because I’m scared of what I want and the possibility of it not working out.

  “God, you’re right.” I look up at him with tears in my eyes. A lone tear falls. “I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I-I wasn’t trying to be dishonest. I think I’ve hung on to us for all the wrong reasons.” I take a deep breath.

  “Cassandra, I didn’t think you were, and honestly, we’ve both stayed in this for the wrong reasons. I can admit, I’ve been selfish. Our agreement for this crazy relationship is every guy’s fantasy—no real strings, no questions asked, but faithfulness from a girl who’s beautiful and kind, a girl you love. I do, you know—love you—but if I really loved you the way you deserve, I would’ve asked you to marry me already.” Richard lifts my hand and touches his lips to my palm. It’s the most intimate we’ve been in weeks.

  “Don’t apologize, you’ve been good to me. I didn’t ask for more because I knew there wasn’t really the forever kind of love between us. I’m just finally allowing myself to recognize how I’ve felt for a long time.”

  He reaches for me, embracing me with care and a respectful kind of love.

  We sit and hold one another. Neither of us cares what anyone around us may think. Richard and I respect our unusual relationship. Pulling away, he kisses me lightly on my cheek before throwing back his whiskey and standing to leave. I watch him and think of the sweet moments, the hard moments, and all of the times I knew deep down this didn’t work for me.

  Leaning down, he whispers in my ear, “Be happy, Cassandra.” Then Richard walks away.

  I don’t know how long I sit there after he leaves, but I sip my wine until there isn’t a drop left. Standing, I walk slowly, all the way back to the apartment. The walk home is a blur.

  When I reach the door, I dig through my purse, suddenly realizing I left my key on the bar. I don’t feel like knocking or moving or even attempting to call Paxton, so I slide down to the floor with my back against the door and I cry. I cry for the last five years, and then I sob for all the years I spent hating someone because it was so much easier than the alternative.

  Present

  When I walk up to the front door, Cass is sitting on the floor, leaning against the door. She doesn’t even look up when I’m standing directly in front of her.

  “He’s a fucking dull loser. You do realize that, right?” I squat at her feet, pushing the loose hairs hanging in her eyes behind her ears. When she finally focuses on me, I can see a lot of hurt and confusion. I reach my hand out to her, and she takes it. “Come on, Porter. Let’s go inside.”

  Neither of us lets go of the other’s hand, not even when I unlock the door and we walk inside. Instead, I lead her directly to the sofa. She takes a seat, and I sit on the coffee table in front of her.

  “Look at me, Cass.” She lifts her gaze to mine. “I’m going to repeat what I said a moment ago: he’s dull, a nobody. Do you really want to waste any more time on that mediocre douchebag?”

  “Fuck you!” Her eyes start to blaze, but it fizzles out quickly. I don’t know where that reaction came from, and I’m having a hard time deciphering if it’s meant for Richard or me. Either way, it reminds me of our relationship growing up. I always did or said something, trying to protect or defend her, and bam, she would bite my head off.

  “What happened to you?” I ask her seriously.

  Eyes wide, she stares at me incredulously. “What do you mean? Nothing happened to me. Don’t say those things about Richard. He really was fantastic.” She focuses her attention on everything else in the room but me.

  Squeezing her hand so I can get her to look at me again, I wait until she does before I say anything. “Don’t get mad, but it means you used to have better taste. Cass, sure you fell in and out of love with every boy, but you always stayed true to yourself. You never settled. Hell, you always put me in my place without apology. He wasn’t for you. You deserve more. The Cassandra I know would never put up with this shit from anyone. Did you really want a relationship with no real commitment? It just doesn’t fit.”

  “You don’t understand,” Cass states plainly.

  She stands and begins pacing the room.

  Cass stops in front of the bay window looking out over the city, and it’s reminiscent of my first night back in town. She stood in front of this same window with her back to me, just as she is now. I’m struck with the same feeling of protectiveness for her…and it’s almost possessive. If I’m honest, it’s something I’ve always felt when it comes to Cass. I don’t move. I remain sitting, watching her and waiting, waiting for her to say something, because it’s Cass and I know she always has something to say.

  “It’s been five years, Paxton. Five.” Her voice sounds deflated, almost distant.

  Standing, I walk over to her, leaving very little space between us. “I know.” I take her hand in mine and them hanging between us without looking at her. She doesn’t look at me either. “I know it has to be hard to walk away from him, but dammit, Cass, you deserve better than a back-and-forth relationship with a guy who smiles and is polite when he wants to be, but who we both know is manipulating you to be someone you’re not!” My voice begins to rise. Turning to face her, I see her eyes are glistening with unshed tears. “Cass, you—”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Stop talking. Let me say this. No more excuses.” I speak forcefully, and she flinches. “Cass, you are spirit and fire and boldness. You’re beautiful when you’re annoyed and breathtaking when you’re kind. I know it’s hard to walk away from someone you’ve loved for five years, but dammit, the Cass I know could do it because she is confident enough to stand up and say she’s a better person without this guy.” I’m bre
athing hard when I finish, as if I didn’t take a single breath in between words.

  “You’re right,” she murmurs, her eyes never leaving mine.

  “Huh? I am?” I’m not sure those words have ever left that gorgeous mouth of hers in reference to me.

  “Well, at least about the person I am, but…I wasn’t talking about Richard,” she clarifies. “I meant you. It has been almost ten years since you left.”

  Wait, what? Me? What about me?

  “Me? What do I have to do with any of this?” Shock is apparent in my voice. “How did we go from talking about Dick to a conversation about me?”

  “Because it’s always about you,” she declares, her cheeks flaming red, the tears still hanging on the edges of her lids.

  “It is?” I ask dubiously. Taking a step forward, I stare hard into her eyes, trying to understand.

  “I’ve always…”

  “You’ve always?” I question.

  “It’s the way you’ve acted since you’ve been back, and when we were growing up—antagonizing me, pushing me until I’m crazy with …with…until I’m acting irrationally and trying to beat you at your game.” Cass’s voice is shaking now.

  “You said it’s been almost ten years like you meant something more,” I interject.

  “I didn’t!” She suddenly throws her hands in the air in frustration and begins pacing again. “I just meant you’ve always done this to me and…and it’s basically been ten years since I saw you last. We’re ten years older and yet you’re still doing it. You’re still barging into my life like you have a right, messing with my mind, pulling me in with near kisses and unexplainable attraction.”

  I don’t know why or how our conversation made this turn. Is she right? Have I always done what she is saying? Dammit, she is right. I’ve always pushed things with her because it always felt like she was pulling me with a string I couldn’t even see, pulling me to her, teasing me with something I didn’t want but in some strange way longed for.

  Without thinking, I walk up behind her, wrap my arms around her, and hold her against me.

  “Cass…” There are so many emotions clouding my mind. I turn her to face me, and she abides willingly. When I look into her gaze, there are so many unspoken words there, and I can’t decipher them all.

  She opens her mouth slowly and whispers, “I hate you.”

  It’s obvious she can’t hold her emotions back any longer, and the tears slipping down her cheeks contradict the hate I see in her gaze. Placing my hands on either side of her face, I rub my thumbs across her skin to wipe them away. I can’t take the tears, especially hers.

  “Dammit, Cass, stop hating me.” My voice comes out huskier than I intend as I slide my thumb gently across her plump red lips, caressing them. She shivers involuntarily. “Just stop hating me,” I beg.

  “I can’t.” She breathes deeply as another lone tear slips from her eyelid.

  Moving closer to her, my body takes over and my gaze drops to her mouth. “You can,” I tell her with quiet force. Her head moves from side to side in disagreement as her hands come up, wrapping around my wrists. “You can, Cass,” I insist. She shakes her head again, filling me with frustration. “Tell me why then. Let me make things right between us, please.” Desperation—that’s new, too, like the jealousy. What is she doing to me?

  Her grip tightens around on my arm. I look into her eyes, and there is a new sort of determination as she finds her voice and vows, “I’ll never stop hating you,” just before she pulls me closer and presses her warm lips against mine. Although she has taken me off guard, my body doesn’t need time to react. Touching her is instinctual, like it’s the key to my survival. My arms wrap around her tightly as I deepen the kiss, and she releases a satisfied sigh as if she’s finally allowing herself something she’s been deprived of for years. I feel it too. Finally.

  “Cass.” Her name slips into our kiss.

  Abruptly pulling back, she looks into my eyes. “Shut up Pax…just shut up. We aren’t talking about this because this means nothing. Words are only needed when it means something. All this is about is satisfying a curiosity so we can both move on from this push and pull we’ve been doing for years, got it?” She doesn’t blink, and I only care about one thing: fulfilling the need to be inside her.

  A slow grin spreads across my face. “Got it,” I concur, sweeping her up into my arms and carrying her to my bedroom. Cass wraps her arms around my neck, locking her lips to mine in a passionate kiss.

  We reach the edge of the bed, and I slowly set her down without taking my mouth from hers. Kissing Cass feels so fucking good, I’m afraid I won’t ever be able to stop. Her hands move under my t-shirt, gliding over my stomach and up my chest, the sensation sending chills all over my body. When she moves them back down, Cass catches the hem of my shirt, lifting it up until I raise both arms, breaking our kiss only to pull it over my head. As soon as it’s off, we both begin pulling at the other’s clothes until we’re both standing in front of one another completely devoid of all clothing other than her panties. My gaze roams over every part of her—the ideal roundness of her breasts, the soft curves of her hips, her long, lean legs. Her sun-kissed skin is calling for me to caress it. Cassandra Porter is my kind of perfection. We allow ourselves to take in the other completely before either of us attempts to move again.

  “Nothing,” she whispers when our gazes lock.

  “Nothing,” I repeat just as quietly. I would say anything she wanted me to in this moment.

  Without hesitation, I push her back onto the bed. I lift one of her legs, kissing the side of her foot before moving my lips to the inside of her ankle and up her leg. She moans with each brush of my lips to her skin. When I reach her warm center, I run my tongue over the silk of her panties, enticing my name from her lips as she reaches out, her fingers taking hold of my hair to urge me on. My entire body is filled with so much desire, I might explode. I want release, I need it, and it takes every bit of will I have to keep it at bay. I bite the edge of the fabric, moving it aside with my teeth so I can be closer, feel more of Cass. She whimpers when my hot breath flutters across her most sensitive area. Every sound she makes gets me harder.

  My tongue darts out, swiping across her wet center before I cover it completely with my lips, sucking and devouring it with my mouth, inspiring my name to come louder and faster from her until she’s practically screaming it in between moans. I move my hips and allow my body to take satisfaction from the friction I’m creating with the movement of her leg and the pleasure I’m giving her with my mouth. The need to be inside her is more than I can take and I can’t wait any longer. When I pull myself away, we both moan as if in pain. Stopping is painful, but not as agonizing as waiting a moment longer to fill Cass completely. She lifts her hips as I yank her panties down her legs and off her body. I reach over and pull the side table drawer open, take out a condom, and quickly roll it on my long, hard length.

  Without a moment of indecision, I’m hovering over Cass, allowing one moment of affirmation to pass between us before I swiftly push until I’m completely sheathed inside her. Both of us say the other’s name in a loud sigh of relief. The feeling of being inside Cass is more than I ever imagined, and as much as we said this means nothing, the intimacy of being this close means everything.

  “My god, Cass, you feel so fucking amazing,” I groan as I begin to rock into her, her hips matching every thrust.

  “Paxton, please,” she moans. “Harder.”

  I give in to her demand. Our movements become more frenzied, and I want the sensation to last. I want this “nothing” with Cass to go on forever. In one quick movement, I roll us over without separating our bodies, settling Cass on top of me. She looks down in surprise.

  “You’re in control, Cass. Take what you want,” I say huskily. She bites her bottom lip, rolling it between her teeth. It’s sexy as hell. A sheen of sweat glistens across her breast and my dick twitches inside her, aching for her to move. Delicately plac
ing one hand on my chest, she gently rubs it down my front then back up. When her hand rests at the base of my sternum, her hips begin to rock forward, slowly at first, and then she picks up her pace.

  “Fuck,” I grunt between clenched teeth.

  With my hands cradled between her hip and thigh, I help lift her up and down on top of me until we’re both out of breath and Cass is crying my name out one final time. Falling against my chest, she lays her ear where my heart is still beating erratically. I lean forward and place a breathy kiss to the top of her head, her hair damp from sweat.

  Lifting herself up and looking down into my eyes, Cass’s gaze is searching mine for something; I’m not sure what, but it confuses me. Generally, when a girl and I reach this moment and we look at one another, now clear of our desire and need, the girl searches for something in my eyes they might be able to wrap their hope around. They never find it. I’ve never been able to look at a girl I’ve slept with with anything other than a satisfied look of thanks afterward. Cass doesn’t look like she’s searching for hope though. I wonder if I could I give it to her if she were.

  Even if it’s not hope, Cass is still seeking an answer to a question she hasn’t asked. A full minute passes before she leans forward and sets her mouth against mine, lingering without moving, then gingerly she’s coaxing my mouth to surrender. I shut my eyes and pretend I gave her the answer she was looking for. Then, just as fast as the kiss began, Cass ends it.

  “Good night Pax. That was…even better than I imagined it would be.” She pushes herself up and starts picking her clothes up off the floor.

  Sitting up, I ask, a little dismayed, “Are you serious?”

  Her perfect body swivels in the doorway; her clothes cover her, and an eyebrow is quirked up on one side. “Yes, I’m serious. It was incredible, but it can’t happen again,” she announces with a sort of detached look in her eyes.

  Fuck, is she serious? I can’t tell. The night that transpired between us means nothing more than satisfying a curiosity to her. The question now is how I feel about that surprising little fact.