by M. H. Soars
“It seems you already did.”
“And I’m working on fixing that.”
Twenty-Two
SAYLOR - ONE MONTH LATER
The Uber driver stops in front of Mandy’s house and I call to let her know I’m there. It goes straight to voicemail.
Resigned, I get out of the car and march up the front steps. I told Mandy last night the time I was going to come by to pick her up. She knows how anxious I get when I fly. I need to be at the airport hours before the plane is suppose to depart. Saylor Blue Carter is anal when it comes to air traveling. Sue me. I’m a piñata full of surprises.
I ring the doorbell, then I knock on the door hard. Fuck, Mandy. Where are you? Feeling irritated as hell, I use the emergency key that I have to her house and call out her name as I walk in.
I don’t hear anything and my irritation turns into worry. Please, please. Not again. I’m already bracing myself to find Mandy’s lifeless body sprawled somewhere. A quick glance at the living room tells me she’s not there and the TV is off. I continue down the corridor toward her room at the end of it. I push the door open and I find Mandy sitting on the floor in the middle of a heap of clothes. It looks like a Tasmanian Devil was set loose in here.
“Please tell me you are packed.”
Mandy whips her face in my direction as if my presence there is a surprise. Her bottom lip trembles and out of nowhere, she pulls her knees up, hugs them, and hides her face from view.
“I’m not going,” she whines.
Hell and damn. I so did not expect to have to deal with a five-year-old’s tantrum right now. And that’s exactly what Mandy sounds like.
“What do you mean you’re not going?” I walk into the room, ready to yell at Mandy if necessary.
She raises her head and I see tears have already streaked her cheeks. My anger vanishes like fog in the air. I kneel in front of her and brush her ginger hair off of her face.
“Mandy, what happened?”
She breaks into a sob and more tears come. “I can’t do this, Saylor. I can’t be part of such a joyous occasion when I feel dead inside.”
“Mandy…”
“I know I should have said something sooner, but I was hoping that I would never have to.”
“You know you can tell me anything.”
She shakes her head and stares at a point over my shoulder.
“I remember, Saylor. I remember everything.”
It’s funny how some words have the power to knock you off course, to pull the rug from underneath you. My stomach drops through the earth and I find myself falling on my butt. She can’t possibly be referring to…No.
“I killed that monster, I killed him and you took the blame for me.”
I pull Mandy into a tight embrace. “It’s going to be okay, Mandy. I promise.”
“Why did you do it, Saylor? Why?”
“I was protecting you.” My voice falters. “It was my fault that man crossed your path.”
Mandy pushes me back. “No, never say that. I was the one who never told you how uncomfortable he made me feel, how he looked at me.”
“That man was a disgusting predator. I would have killed him myself if I’ve had the chance.”
“But you didn’t.”
“Mandy, sweetheart. You saved my life that day. What I did afterwards doesn’t compare to your sacrifice. I just wish you had never recovered your memories.”
Mandy closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. “I tried to kill myself. That day with the pills and whiskey wasn’t an accident.”
The pressure in my chest becomes unbearable, the pain excruciating. I knew it, deep down I knew it.
“Do you still want to do it? Kill yourself?”
Mandy shakes her head. “No. But I need help. I’m not well.”
“I thought the therapy sessions were helping.”
“They are and that’s why I’m not going to Hawaii. I don’t want to be this shell of a person anymore. I want to be able to feel joy again and not have this dark cloud over my head.”
She stops talking but I sense that she has more stuff on her chest that she wants to say.
“I’m cancelling my ticket. I’m staying. Liv will understand.”
“No! Absolutely not.”
“You need me, Mandy.”
“No, you gotta stop protecting me, Saylor. I know you have good intentions, but I need to learn to fight my own battles.”
I open my mouth to protest, but Mandy cuts in before I can, as if reading my mind. “Connor will be around. I won’t be alone.”
I read determination in her gaze and even though every instinct I have is shouting at me to ignore her wishes and stay, I can’t do that to her.
“Mandy, I’m so, so sorry. You have no idea.”
“I know. Please tell Liv that I wish her and Bas all the happiness in the world.”
She practically has to kick me out of her house and it’s with heavy steps that I walk back to the car waiting for me. I text Connor, just to be safe. He doesn’t know the truth and it’s not up to me to tell. But he needs to keep an eye on his sister now more than ever.
I’m a mess when I get to the airport and I do everything in automated mode. I probably look like a zombie. Mandy’s revelation brought to the surface too many horrible memories. I don’t usually drink while travelling, but today, I’m making an exception.
When Oliver takes the seat next to mine at the bar, I know getting drunk on the flight to Hawaii will not be the biggest mistake I’ll make during this trip.
Twenty-Three
OLIVER
The moment I spot Saylor in the VIP lounge, I notice that something is wrong. She’s alone for starters—I thought one of the bridesmaids was supposed to be here—and her usual confidence isn’t present.
Sebastian bought business class tickets for everyone in the wedding party, and I made sure I was on the same flight as Saylor. After our heart to heart conversation, he stopped riding my ass over Liv’s best friend. So here I am.
She makes a beeline for the bar and orders a shot of something. I had planned to stay away until we were on the plane, but as usual, I can’t keep my distance. It’s fucking crazy how much I miss her. I stand up and ignore the glances of recognition I receive as I cross the lounge area in her direction. Thank fuck I’m not intercepted by a fan. I’m really not in the mood to play the gracious celebrity right now.
I take the seat next to hers and when Saylor glances my way, I smile. “Isn’t it a bit early for shots?”
I expect a sharp reply or complete indifference. I’m not prepared to be hit by the intense storm of emotions brewing in her eyes. Nor am I prepared to be yanked out of my seat and dragged into the loo.
As soon as the door is locked, she attacks me.
I’m shoved against the wall right before her tongue invades my mouth with a fury that matches her stormy gaze. The surprise on my part doesn’t last long, and I quickly get with the program. I give back to her in the same manner, in the same pace, while my hand tangles with her hair. I keep her lips glued to mine because I missed her taste so fucking much.
Saylor’s hands make quick work of my fly, freeing my hard rock erection. I hiss and nip her lower lip when she drags her hand up and down my shaft, and her thumb caresses the sensitive tip. If she doesn’t stop, I’m going to explode. It’s been too fucking long.
With our mouths still fused together, I grab her tiny waist and twirl us around so now she’s the one backed up against the wall. I pull her skirt up and cup her pussy with my palm. Her panties aren’t damp, they are soaked and that drives me even wilder. I push the delicate fabric aside and insert a finger into her burning core.
“I need more,” she says before letting go of my cock to pull her panties down her legs.
Seeing her naked pussy makes me want to get down on my knees and fuck her with my tongue, but Saylor brings my body flush against hers and grabs my erection again, placing it right at her entrance
“I need you
inside of me. Now.”
I grab her butt and lift her up, her long legs wrapping immediately around my hips. I don’t think, I don’t hesitate, I do as she asks, and plunge into her with one precise push. She holds my face between her hands and kisses me hard, her tongue matching the tempo of my hips pumping against her sweet spot.
This woman will be the death of me.
I sense that she’s about to come by the way her moans get louder, by how her pussy is milking my cock. Thank fuck because I’m about to come myself. I pump harder, faster, until her cry of pleasure drives me to the point of no return and the most intense orgasm hits me. I let go of her lips to hide my face in the crook of her neck, waiting for the tremors post release to stop.
I keep Saylor locked tight in my arms. My dick is still hard inside her hot sheath, and if she would give me a minute, I could go for round two. The reality is that I don’t want to let her go. I don’t want to face the fact that she just used me for reasons I have yet to discover. And make no mistake, discover I will.
Slowly, she untangles herself from me, her feet landing on the tiled floor softly. She doesn’t make eye contact when she pulls her underwear up her legs or when she walks to the sink. I watch as she cleans up. We didn’t use a condom again and I should be freaking out right now. The last thing I want is to be a dad. I break everything that I touch and maybe that’s why Saylor and I are a perfect match. She’s just as fucked up as I am. However, I’m not in the least bit worried.
As if sensing my train of thought, she looks up and her gaze connects with mine through the mirror’s reflection.
“I’m still on the pill.”
“I haven’t been with anyone else. I’m still clean.”
Her eyes widen a bit at the revelation I didn’t intend to make. But I’m glad that it escaped my mouth. She needs to know that I’m serious about us. This is no longer casual for me.
“What was this?” I ask.
She raises an eyebrow at me and smirks. “It’s called sex.”
“Ha-ha. Seriously, Saylor. What the hell just happened?”
“I needed a good fuck. I knew you could deliver it.”
I breach the gap between us without breaking eye contact. “Such filthy mouth. I’m hard again.” I grab her by the hips and pull her sweet ass against my erection. “That was it then?” I whisper in her ear. “Only a one time, mind blowing fuck?”
I can tell the word ‘yes’ is on the tip of her tongue, but her body is not immune to our proximity, to the charged atmosphere around us. I wrap an arm around her waist and keep my gaze locked with hers.
“You aren’t done with me, just like I’m not done with you.”
Her lips part and I can practically taste her surrender. But the bloody speakers announce our flight is ready to board. I can’t let her escape like this, not after I felt her on my tongue again.
“One week. Let’s give ourselves one week in paradise.”
To my surprise, Saylor lips break into a smile. “Okay, Phil Collins.”
It takes me a moment to understand what she means, and when I do, I mentally slap myself. Phil Collins, Another Day in Paradise. When did I become this cheesy person?
Twenty-Four
SAYLOR
My heart is flying even though it shouldn’t. Not when I’m the biggest ass on the planet. I cannot believe I attacked Oliver like that in the airport. Big, big mistake on my part because now, I want him again and here in Hawaii, I won’t be able to escape him so easily.
I don’t know what this feeling inside means. That’s how fucked up I am. Is it more than lust? Yes. Is it love? I don’t know.
I purposely asked not to sit next to him on the plane. The flight attendant thought I was crazy. Who in their right mind wouldn’t want to sit next to Oliver Best? The girl who has him and doesn’t know what to do about him, that’s who.
God, I’m such a basket case.
We land on Honolulu airport but that’s not the end of our journey together. The resort is in Kauai island and we have another two-hour flight to catch. The problem is that we find out our flight has been cancelled as soon as we search for it on the airport board.
At the airline’s desk, my frustration only doubles.
“Can’t we get on the next flight available?” I ask the associate, but she’s too busy ogling Oliver to pay attention to me. She only provides the answer when Oliver repeats the same question.
The answer is no. Fuck me. I’m stuck in Honolulu with Oliver. The traitorous butterflies in my stomach do somersaults and back flips. Screw you, imaginary insects.
Oliver looks at me and his eyes dance with glee. He lips break into a bright smile and I can read the dirty thoughts running through his head. My heart flitters against my will. It’s like the entire universe is plotting against my resolve.
I can’t let anyone else get close to me. That would be selfish. Last month, I told my doctor I’m not having the surgery. So that means I don’t know how much longer I have. It could be a month, it could be year.
As we walk out of the airport, Oliver asks what I want to do.
“I don’t know. Find a cheap hotel room, I suppose.”
Oliver glances at me with a frown. “Why? You’re staying with me.”
“No, I’m not.”
Faster than I can blink, Oliver pulls me flush against his body and gives me a little peck on the lips. “Yes, you are. Stop fighting, sugar.”
I want to melt into his embrace, and maybe I do a little bit. If I could see my heart, I would find it covered in bruises. But there’s a different ache there reserved especially for this man.
“Oliver, we can’t.”
“Why the hell not? All I’m asking is for one week.”
I feel my determination crumble like a piece of butter cookie. Why does he keep saying only one week? Does that mean that he plans to go back to London? If he’s only looking for fun times in paradise without expecting more, then I can’t find an argument against that. Honestly, I am looking for a loophole, a reason to give in to this man without drowning in guilt later.
“Fine,” I say before I change my mind.
“Fine? Uh, that was anticlimactic.”
“What did you want? Fireworks?”
“Too early for that. How about this?”
He leans down and kisses me again, this time a real, full of tongue and teeth kiss. And I melt like chocolate under the sun in his arms, needing to hold on to Oliver for support. There’s a furnace in the pit of my stomach, a raging fire only he can ignite.
I pull back and try to get air into my lungs. Oliver’s minty breath fans over my overheated skin when he lets out a throaty chuckle. “I was planning on exploring the island, but I think getting a hotel room first is top priority.”
Two hours later, we’re still in bed wrapped in each other’s arms. Sex in that airport restroom was wild and amazing, but nothing beats being thoroughly devoured by Oliver in a nice, comfy bed. He’s presently nibbling my shoulder, giving me goose bumps all over my body.
“We really should get out of this room. It’s my first time in Hawaii, you know,” I say.
“I didn’t know that. But you’re so fucking delicious, I just want to keep eating you.” He bites me harder to make a point.
“We’ll need real food eventually.”
“Yes, such inconvenience.” He pinches my nipple, turning it harder on the spot. I bat his hand away.
“Oliver, I’m serious.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll stop. Where do you want to go?”
I turn on my side so I can look at him properly. His short hair is as messy as it can get and his lips are red and swollen. There’s a bit of scruff on his jaw and I bet my face is scratched raw from all the kissing. Totally worth it.
“I’ve always wanted to visit the USS Arizona Memorial.”
“For real?”
“I was the biggest history nerd in high school.”
Some indiscernible emotion flashes in Oliver’s eyes, making me curi
ous. “What?”
“Nothing.” He gives me a sweet kiss and pulls back. “We’ll go there.”
“Is that going to be a problem for you? I mean, going to such a touristic place.”
“Nah, I’ll wear a baseball cap and sunglasses. No one will know it’s me. Let’s hop into the shower.”
“Together?” I raise an eyebrow at him.
His lips curls into a sexy grin at the same time he strokes my clit with his fingers. “Yes, I don’t trust you to get clean properly on your own.”
I usually keep my emotions in check most of the time, but even during the short boat ride to the memorial, I’m already choked up. I keep imagining what it was like that day with all the loss and destruction. The lump in my throat only gets bigger once we are inside the memorial building on top of the sunken USS Arizona.
We shuffle along with the other tourists, looking at the many pictures of that day, soaking up the feeling that only being in such place can evoke. I’m humbled, grateful for those men and women’s sacrifices. I’m angry as well that there can be such evil in the world. Next to me, Oliver doesn’t say much, but his presence alone is a comfort I didn’t expect it to be.
It’s when we are looking at a particular heartbreaking picture of the great ship surrounded by black smoke, that Oliver speaks up.
“My great grandfather died in the war.”
“He did? I’m sorry.”
“He was a pilot. His plane got shot down.”
I look closely at his face, but his attention is on the picture in front of us. “I’ve always wondered what would it feel like to go into a situation knowing that most likely you wouldn’t make it out alive.”
“Terrifying would be my guess.” I shuffle on my feet, feeling uncomfortable with the topic of the conversation.
“I know we are all dying, but I think I would go crazy if I had even the slightest indication of when or how I would die.”
A shiver runs down my spine and I feel dizzy for a moment. Oliver places a hand on my lower back.
