by Amy Daws
“Seeing him again was—” I start.
“Weird. I know. I’ve run into him a few times.” Hayden looks out the plate glass door that opens to a small balcony off my kitchen. I can see that faraway look he gets in his eyes whenever his mind drifts back to the time that he wouldn’t even let me mention. “What did you say to him?” Hayden asks, refusing to make eye contact with me.
“Not much. I pretty much got the hell out of there. He looked at me like…like I was…a ghost.” I shake my head sadly, a look of disgust smearing over my face.
Hayden hands me his glass of wine and I take it and gulp it down in its entirety, relishing the instant warmth that shoots through my blood. I close my eyes and lick my lips, while handing him back the glass.
“I haven’t seen him since—”
“Don’t say it,” Hayden interrupts.
I open my eyes and see him cringing as if in pain. He sets the glass down and snatches the bottle up off the counter and tips it to his lips. If he’s this worked up over what he already knows, I shudder to think of how he’d react if he knew the full history of my past with Liam. This is exactly why I’ll never tell Hayden. He can’t handle it. And I’m terrified at what he’d do if he ever did find out.
After several swallows, he closes his eyes and lowers the bottle. “Easy there, sport.” My voice has a menacing tone to it. “We both said we were going to cool it on the drinking.”
“You just nicked my entire glass of red!” he retorts.
“You look like this isn’t your first bottle, Hayden.”
He sighs heavily and glares at me. His damaged, hard gray eyes searching my face for further argument. Mindlessly, he glances down to my chest and the lids of his eyes droop as heat flourishes beneath them.
I instantly know he’s no longer angry about the wine.
He begins to stalk slowly toward me—his tall, wiry build gliding silently across the white tile floor. I back up until I hit the half wall beside the fridge. “We said we weren’t going to do this anymore, Hayden.” I hold my hand out, pressing it to his firm stomach to stop him from coming any closer. I want to walk away, but a larger part of me wants to stop thinking about Liam. And there’s only one way to do that.
Hayden sighs and grabs a piece of my hair. He brings it to his lips. “You look sexy as fuck, Rey. I like your hair like this.” He rubs the silky, dark strand against his lips. A playful smirk dances in his eyes.
“Nice key change, Hay. But you should take those fuck me eyes elsewhere.”
He hunches over and nuzzles his mouth into my neck, licking and kissing a trail up to my ear. “Now why would I want to do that?” he whispers, his voice husky.
I can feel him grinning against my skin as goose pimples flare out on my neck beneath his warm breath. I ball up a chunk of his T-shirt into my fist for some semblance of control. His hands move to grip tightly around my waist and I could scream at my body as it arches into his embrace.
This is exactly what Hayden does to me. He makes me lose all sense of thought and purpose. It’s part of the draw. He’s a freaking mess like me and I ache for the pleasure I know he can grant me.
“We say a lot of words,” he mumbles against my neck and nips playfully. “Let’s do less saying…and more fucking.”
His words send an instant shock to all my erogenous zones. Suddenly, he shifts his head and swipes his lips against mine in a painful, biting kiss. The taste of red wine passes back and forth between our lips and tongues. My eyes roll to the back of my head as I let his assault intoxicate me.
His tall frame is at an awkward angle, so he slides his hands down my butt and lifts me up. I wrap my legs around his waist and he slams me back against the fridge. The cozy press of his hard on against my center instantly has my groin thrusting into his.
“God, I fucking love your legs wrapped around me,” Hayden growls and bites at my collarbone with his teeth as he carries me over to my rumpled mattress on the floor in my living room.
Fuck, I can’t resist him. This is what Hayden and I do best. We fuck to forget. We’re a mess of dysfunctional, codependent, sex-starved garbage together. And it is hot as hell.
I’m airborne for a split second as he drops me onto my mattress and stares down at me with those smoldering charcoal eyes. He begins unbuckling his jeans and I quickly ditch my own. I slide my panties off as he takes himself in his hand and slides on a condom.
He lowers on top of me and between my legs. His tongue plunges so deep into my mouth that I can do nothing but suck on it. Hard. I match his moan with my own as he slides himself deep inside of me.
“Make me forget,” I whisper into his mouth.
“Always.” He bites his lower lip and our eyes connect for one painfully hard moment. So many unspoken words pass between us in that one silent moment. So many memories. So much hurt.
We both ache to forget and fuck to ignore.
That’s what we do for each other.
That’s what we’re good for…and nothing more.
Breaking eye contact finally, Hayden growls and begins slamming into me at a punishing pace, over and over. Our bodies making an erotic clapping sound every time he hits deeply inside of me. I slam my eyes shut and focus solely on the climb to the orgasm that I long for. The climb to ecstasy that grants me the oblivion that I need.
The oblivion that allows me to forget.
The worst part of our fucked up arrangement is the fact that Hayden doesn’t even know everything about me. My normally, never-fail, blunt honesty is completely nonexistent with him all because I’m too afraid of losing him. If he knew everything about me, then I really, truly would be alone.
After what feels like only moments, his hands grip painfully on my thighs wrapped around him as we climax at the same time. He drops down beside me, and we both lie on our backs, sweaty, panting, and sated; naked from the waist down. Hayden and I stopped with the foreplay a long time ago. We fuck and we finish. That’s it. No sexy strip teases. No undressing each other. No pillow talk. Just kissing and screwing. And even the kissing has grown nastier the past year in the hottest way possible.
The familiar self-hatred creeps slowly over me as my heart rate returns to normal. “You need to leave,” I croak, my voice hoarse.
In the corner of my eye, I see him nod. He stands, pulling his jeans on as he rises. His sexy happy trail down his lower belly is on full display as he stands above me, his jeans still hanging open.
“You’re still my best friend, Rey.” He’s twitching his jaw from side to side and refusing to make eye contact with me. The self-loathing he feels right now is as potent as my own.
My brow crinkles at his admission. I close my legs, roll on my side, and pull them up to my chest to lie in the fetal position. “And you’re mine,” I utter softly feeling my heart break over and over. “But you know this isn’t good for us.”
He looks down and sucks his cheeks into the hollows of his mouth. “I can’t lose you, too.” His voice cracks and he turns quickly, striding down the hallway and out the door.
I flinch at the loud slam. When I open my eyes, tears spill freely down my temple. I roll onto my stomach, crying myself to sleep, and praying for that freedom once more.
“Bugger! Bugger! Bugger!” Liam shouts, storming into the propped open door of mine and Marisa’s dorm room.
“What?” I ask, my eyes flashing wide. I’m spread out on my bed with a million textbooks.
“My parents are visiting from Kent and I completely bloody forgot. I was supposed to collect them from the station, but I have a midterm. Then I told the bloke I work with that I would cover for him for an hour at the lab desk. Christ, do you know where Marisa is?”
“Gone home to Essex, remember? She had that hen night with one of her friends from primary.”
“Bugger, you’re right.” He rakes a nervous hand through his hair.
“Why are you flying off the rails, Liam? I’m right here,” I say, standing up and straightening my long black shirt
.
“What do you mean?” He looks at me, his brow furrowed.
“I’ll collect your folks.” I slip my feet into my boots.
“God, no. I can’t ask you to do that. They’re really…not easy.”
“You didn’t ask. I’m offering. Actually, I’m not offering. I’m insisting.” I grab my purse and sling it over my shoulder. “They’re a bit older right? Early to mid sixties?”
Liam’s face drops briefly before replying, “Yeah. My mum is sixty-three and my Dad is sixty-four. Why?”
“Don’t worry about it. Betha and Alden, yeah?”
“Yeah, I’m surprised you remembered. But honestly, Rey. They’ll be fine. They can just stroll around the train station until I’m done.”
“Liam! Shut up already. I’ve got this. Text them that I’ll be coming to get them. They can wait here with me until you’re done.”
He huffs with laughter, “They don’t text.”
I stand up straight, eyeing him. “Well, send a carrier pigeon then.”
He chuckles and eyes me curiously for a moment before I wave him off and head outside to grab a cab to the train station. I hate when he looks at me like that. It makes me feel so…exposed. Once I arrive at the station, I dash around frantically looking for an older couple that look lost. Liam said they rarely ever travel and this trip would be a really big ordeal for them. He even warned me that they’d probably be extra cranky because of his muck up.
I find them easily. Liam’s mom is yelling at someone behind one of the ticket counters and Liam’s dad is fanning himself with a newspaper even though it’s a cool autumn day.
“Mr. and Mrs. Darby! I’m Reyna, Liam’s friend. I’ve come to bring you to campus!”
They eye me with indignation, clearly noting my little bit of ink sticking out from the collar of my T-shirt. Liam’s dad, Alden, is a tall, large-framed man with white hair and black-rimmed glasses. His mom, Betha, is short and slim, and dressed impeccably in a traditional British skirt suit. She and the queen would probably be great friends.
I shuffle them into the cab and tell the driver where to take us. “How was your journey?” I ask, attempting small talk.
“Just fine, except for the blabbering prats behind us,” Betha whines. “You should have heard the vile things coming from their mouths.”
I smile sympathetically. “Are you guys hungry? I know a great pub that has excellent food.”
“I’m famished.” Alden pats his small belly seriously.
I redirect the driver to the pub that I’ve been at a handful of times when my mother came to visit. It’s located a bit off campus and features more of the locals from the village and less of a student population. I found it my first year here and fell in love with it because they have a board game or cards at every table.
We walk in and Alden’s eyes grow wide when he spots a cribbage board on one table.
“How about that one?” I ask gesturing to his line of sight.
“A cribbage board, Alden!” Betha’s tone is high and excited.
“This is a right nice pub I’d say.” Alden looks to me and his grumpy expression from earlier morphs into cheerful.
I’m thrilled by their excitement over this…and over the fact that I know how to play cribbage. We order three baskets of fish ‘n chips and I suggest they try the local ale they brew in house.
“I’m not much of a beer drinker,” Betha says.
“You’ll find it really smooth. If you don’t like it, they have a great chardonnay as well.” I smile, feeling a bit jealous of Liam. His parents are so normal. And expressive. It’s refreshing.
We get our beers and I’m pleased to see Betha drinking hers appreciatively. Alden is ordering another before we finish ours, but I can tell they are enjoying themselves.
“Let’s get on with it, shall we?” Alden says pulling the cribbage pegs out of the back of the board. “We can teach you how to play, love. Don’t you worry.”
“Oh, I know how to play.” I smile at their shocked expression. “I learned from a nurse that used to babysit me when I was a kid. He worked with my mom at the hospital and whenever she was called in for emergency surgery, he and I would play. I’ve been playing cribbage for nearly twenty years. I hope you guys are ready.”
Alden’s eyes twinkle with mirth and I instantly see Liam in his expression and a fondness sneaks over me. Shaking it off, we all dig into the game. They’re good, really good. They’ve even taught me a few tricks that I never knew before! Before I know it, over two hours has passed. I shoot a quick text to Liam, telling him where we are and to meet us here. I might need help getting Alden and Betha back. They like the local beer a bit too much I’m afraid.
Liam strides in a few minutes later with a worried expression on his face. When he sees the three of us deep in a game of crib, his wide eyes dart to mine. “I didn’t know you knew how to play cribbage!”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Liam.” I say and offer a stoic nod to Betha.
“This bird is skunking us good!” Betha slurs and hoots with laughter as she takes another sip of her beer.
I purse my lips, silently laughing and hoping that Liam won’t be ticked I got his parents soused. It’s been a great afternoon, honestly. One of the best I’ve had in a while.
“Well, alright then. Finish this game, so that we can start playing doubles,” Liam says excitedly with a determined twinkle to his eye.
And that’s exactly what we do. It’s actually really fun. I can’t remember the last time I’ve laughed so hard. The banter that Liam has with his mother is comedy at its best. Grinning at each other, Liam and I seem to be having a silent conversation throughout most of the game. It’s challenging and playful. Knowing, yet mysterious. It both excites and scares me because I don’t fully understand it. I’ve never had this type of feeling with anyone before. Not even Marisa.
After Betha and I end up skunking Alden and Liam twice in a row, we all decide to call it a night. It’s dark out now and I’m quite certain that if we let Betha and Alden drink more beer, we’ll be carrying them home.
“Reyna, it was such a pleasure to meet you,” Betha says, pulling me in for a surprising hug. My eyes turn wide when Alden wraps his big arms around both of us.
“We hope to see you again soon,” Alden croaks.
“What the bloody hell did you do to my parents?” Liam asks, his tone tight with shock.
Alden pulls back and grins dopily at me. “Bloody fantastic afternoon, Rey. I think I like Oxford. And I know I like you.”
I laugh and hold the door open for them. Liam grasps my elbow and pulls me back into the entry way as his parents fold themselves into the waiting cab. I look up and his serious expression sends butterflies off in my belly. “Rey, I can’t thank you enough for taking care of them today. They’re in such a good mood, I don’t think they even cared I was missing.”
“Liam, it was my pleasure. Seriously, it was fun. Your parents aren’t difficult. They’re cool. I really like them.” I smile, pulling my lip into my mouth and grinning out the window at them.
“Bloody hell,” he says and I glance back to find him shaking his head.
Liam’s face looks completely awestruck, amazed even. By what I don’t fully know. Rubbing his lips together, I can tell he’s about to say something serious and I want to hurry out before—
“Rey,” his voice is husky and low, “I love how you continue to surprise me.”
All good humor from my face vanishes. I feel a coldness prickle over my skin as I snap back to reality. “I said it was nothing, Liam. Just leave it.”
“Reyna, honey? Wake up, my miracle.”
Loving hands stroke down the back of my head and rest at the nape of my neck, massaging gently, and repeat the gesture.
“Reyna Miracle Miller…It’s time to rise…It’s time to shine…For you are a beautiful, miraculous child of mine.”
My mother’s familiar song wakes me from my slumber and I groan loudly in p
rotest. “Just let yourself in, Mom.” I roll over to see her standing above me.
She’s dressed in a white, linen blouse, and a black, pencil skirt. I glance down to confirm that hell hasn’t frozen over and see her Puma tennis shoes planted firmly on her stocking covered feet. She always wears tennis shoes. Even with dresses and tights. I’ve told her how ugly it is, but she claims she does it because she never knows when she might be needed for a medical emergency. Evidently she feels more equipped in comfortable shoes.
I would argue that the skills of a high-risk baby surgeon probably aren’t the best for an emergency response, but I know she would just smile happily at me and ignore my snide comment. Deep down, I’d never say those words though. She’s a brilliant doctor…that I can’t deny.
I crawl off my mattress and realize I’m still naked from the waist down. My mother’s gaze flits down to my bare legs and I see the tiniest crinkle in her brow before she smiles. “Need pants? I’d love to grab them for you!”
I shift my gaze to assess what she’s walked in on. My place is a mess of dirty dishes, empty wine bottles, and yes, even a used condom on the floor twelve inches from her feet. My flat is a studio layout with room for a living area and sleeping area, but I was too lazy to ever buy furniture. A big king mattress on the floor suits me just fine. Most mothers would nag their children until they purchase proper furnishings for a beautiful flat. Not my mother. My mother finds her daughter passed out, half naked in her bed next to a dirty condom and all she has to say is, “Need pants?”
“I can get my own pants, Mom.” I amble over to my closet and rifle through the messy contents. I find a pair of pajama shorts and slip them on. I glance at the clock to see it’s nearly seven o’clock. I must have napped for over two hours.
“I came by to see if you’ve eaten yet. Thought we could pop ‘round to the pub. It’s been ages since I’ve seen Alistair. I want to make sure he’s still keeping an eye on you.” She bends over and picks up the stray wine bottle off the kitchen floor, pausing momentarily as she notices the condom.
