by S. L. Scott
I twirl back to the books before I melt into a mushy mess in front of him. He sure knows how to make a girl fall apart in the most romantic of ways. Running my fingers along the spines, I stroll down the aisle. This time he makes his presence known—heavy footfalls, a low whistle, and the gentlest of touches when he runs a finger down my spine sending goose bumps across my back.
With all the romance and hearts swirling around us, it’s the sorrow he carries inside that reaches me in a consuming embrace. Just when I’m emerging from my own shadows, finding long-awaited light in my own life . . . along comes Cruise with the potential to shroud me in his darkness. I must tread carefully. I whisper as I walk, “I’ve experienced stuff I don’t want to talk about. Things that threaten to bury me daily.” I turn back and he stops. “I see your struggles. You try to hide them like I do, but I recognize the pain you carry in your eyes.” Taking a step back, I look down. “I should walk away. I should keep my distance from you because I’m not strong enough for the both of us.”
Touching my cheek, he strokes his thumb over my skin. I lean into his caress just as he says, “I don’t need you to be strong enough. I just need you to be you.”
“I can accept you as you are. That’s not too much to ask, but I ask you to return the favor.”
“I’ll accept the broken pieces of you. Your shards aren’t so sharp that I fear getting close.”
“So maybe together we can feel whole just for a little while?”
Just when I thought we were bonding on a heavy level of sad events, a smile on his face threatens to ruin this depressing conversation, making me smile too. “If you’ll have me a little broken, a lot damaged, but present, living life day by day like you, then I’d like to see you again, Dove.”
Moving even closer, I dare to reach up and touch his cheek like he so fondly touches mine. My heart beats heavier as if it recognizes the something deeper between us. “Who are you, Cruise?”
I watch his chest expand as he takes in a deep breath and leans down. Exhaling long and slow, he then presses his lips against the shell of my ear, and whispers, “I’m the one who wants you to be mine, but I’ll be your biggest regret.”
8
Clara
Regrets are the last thing on my mind when my earlobe is taken between his teeth and he not so gently sucks. Wildfires flame across my skin as our cheeks caress. His rough to my soft. I wonder if that’s how we’ll always be. If two shattered souls are better apart or together.
I’m not sure I can handle more pain, but with my soul taken with his, I know I have no choice but to see this, us, through. Taking his hand in mine, I look at his lifeline. It matches mine in so many ways—straight before it splits. He’s a survivor like me. I bring it to my mouth and kiss his palm. In that moment, I realize we were always meant to meet, in this world or the next. It was determined long before now. With my lips to his skin, his dark melds into mine and together we become a lighter shade of gray.
We ended up in the deep end of the ocean before we learned to swim. I whisper, “I should have walked away.”
The shadow of a beard scrapes against my skin until his lips reach mine. “You should have.” He kisses me, his tongue invading my mouth, mine invading his. A growl deep in his chest vibrates through our kiss and I know it’s too late to walk away now.
“Clara?”
We part with haste, both of us meeting my mom’s surprised expression. Cruise licks his lips as if he can’t bear to leave a drop of our kiss exposed. Our hands find each other in the middle space.
Her eyes dart between us and for a millisecond I see fear flicker across her face before she asks me, “May I speak with you in private?”
Cruise takes a step back, and says, “There’s a book I’ve been meaning to pick up. I’m going to look for it.”
When he’s turned the corner at the other end, I go to my mother. “What is it?”
“Who is he?” Her tone is disapproving and her expression hard, reminding me of how she used to look before . . .
My dark angel.
My soul’s keeper.
My hell.
My heaven.
My savior.
My solace.
My safe place. Is that what he is? “He’s a friend.” He is so much more that friend seems like a disservice to how I already feel about him.
“He looks like he’s more than a friend.”
“We’ve seen each other a few times.”
She comes closer, her shoulders beginning to slack. “Be careful with boys like that.”
He’s a man, not a boy, but I don’t correct her. “Why?”
“When you fall in love you never think you’ll vanish in the process.” Tucking some of my hair behind my ears, I’m reminded how Cruise did this same caring gesture earlier. She adds, “I know it’s tempting to experience everything you never had a chance to, but you don’t have to do it all at once with the first boy you meet. You don’t have to settle. You have a world and a full life ahead of you. Don’t rush into—”
“You know I’m not a virgin.” I look away from her.
Her steady voice is broken by my comment, and she coughs, as if that can erase the pain. “I wasn’t talking about sex, Clara. Oh my God, are you already having sex with him?”
“I don’t want to have this conversation with you.” I finally angle my shoulders back and look at her.
“I don’t want to have it either, but you know firsthand that the world isn’t all rainbows.”
“And yet, you want to take this little joy I’ve found away from me.”
“No,” she starts. “I don’t. Honey, please. I understand that this person—”
“Cruise,” I smart back. “Not person. His name is Cruise.”
“Okay. I understand that Cruise makes you happy and your happiness makes me happy. I want nothing more than that for you. I just want you to be careful. Take things slowly. There’s no rush. That’s all I’m saying.”
Slow? I don’t even know his last name. It doesn’t even matter that I don’t know it. I like the way he looks at me like I can save him. I like his touch though it’s always too gentle. He wants to go slow as well. How much slower can we take things?
Reason sets in, a byproduct of my mom questioning my decisions. Maybe I don’t know him well enough. I can’t think clearly around him.
Is Cruise even his real name? Clara’s not mine. I’m drawn to him in such a raw, vulnerable way, but we don’t even know each other. I stumble over my words, “I need to . . . um, he’s waiting on me.” I hug her quickly. “I appreciate the concern. I’ll be careful.”
Embracing me with both arms, she kisses the side of my head. “I know you will be, but I worry. I love you.”
“I know, and I’ll be okay. I promise. I love you.” I back away, our eyes meeting once more before I turn and search for Cruise. I want to reignite the flame between us before it’s extinguished from playing it too safe. I’ve got to trust him even if it means getting burned.
I’m not sure what brought us together—fate, destiny, right place, right time, my skirt that he couldn’t take his eyes off, or something buried inside us by some evil that has touched us both—but I’m not willing to walk away now. When I see him reading while sitting on a step stool left behind by an employee, our last encounter doesn’t sting any longer, not now that I know the truth. I may have been raised to not trust men, but I won’t let the devil win.
Cruise wears his heart on his sleeve and doesn’t even realize it. I could take it, steal it, and hide it away to enjoy on my loneliest days. But the sides of his lips turn up and the sight of that smile sings to my deepest desires. Maybe love does exist. I have to put myself out there to find out, so I walk to him and lift the book just enough to see what he’s reading. “Cooking to Impress?”
When he looks up there’s a twinkle in his eyes. My heart starts racing because he makes me feel like I’m the reason for that twinkle. “Chicks love when men cook for them. Figured I should l
earn.”
“It’s true. As a chick, I would love that.”
The book is slammed shut, and he stands, towering over me, but not intimidating me. “Then I’ll cook to impress you. How’s Monday?”
“You don’t waste time, do you?”
He slinks his arm around my waist and pulls me against his middle. “I usually go after what I want.”
“And you want to cook for me?”
“I want so much more, but we’ll start with dinner.”
“At your place?”
“How about I cook for you at yours? Then you can relax and do whatever you need to do.”
“Casual or formal?”
“Comfortable. I want to see you in your element.”
I laugh, but catch a whiff of his cologne, momentarily distracting me. God, he smells amazing. “What were we talking about?” I lean my head against him.
“Elements. Dates. Me cooking for you. How’s six?”
“That works. I can work at the table while you work in the kitchen.”
A kiss is placed on my forehead before he releases me and holds the cookbook between us. “Perfect. Plan to be spoiled, Ms. . . .”
And this time, I don’t play games, or hesitate. I answer, “Eckerd.” I want him to know more than my name. I want him to know me. All of me.
“Come on, let’s checkout so I can drive you home. I have a lot of planning to do tonight.”
“But the dinner’s not until Monday.”
“I have other obligations to tend to first.”
We walk hand in hand to the register. “Should I be jealous?”
“No. I have dinner with my family tomorrow night. I haven’t spent much time with them lately, so I can’t get out of it without pissing them off.”
“It’s nice you’re spending time with your family.” I bump against him as we walk. “You know you don’t have to cook for me to impress me. I’m pretty impressed already.”
Bending down, he steals a kiss. “You haven’t seen anything yet.” He winks.
My hand tightens around his to fight this damn swooning that is taking over me. I’ve never felt lightheaded from something good before. I prefer this version.
Cruise lays his credit card on the counter. When he looks back, he’s quick to reach for me and pull me in. I can get lost in his soulful eyes and lose myself so easily in the comfort of his arms.
I’m not sure what’s come over me. Is this what normal feels like? Or is it Cruise that makes me feel this good? I take a long breath, inhaling air back into my lungs, and then slowly exhale. My heart beating rapidly. My emotions getting away from me.
He’s handed back his card and the book. Taking me by the arm, Cruise is careful when he helps me out the door. So protective. Staring at him, I smile because now I know what’s come over me.
Cruise.
“You do funny things to me.”
With a wry smile appearing, his arm goes over my shoulders. “Funny isn’t what I had in mind, but I’ll take it. Are you still up for letting me drive you home?”
I thought I was too damaged to see any man as anything other than a monster, or a predator baiting me. I never thought I could feel anything but contempt for men, but then along came Cruise. It’s too soon to feel this much. I know I shouldn’t, but my feelings are growing too fast for him whether I want them to or not. But maybe that’s how love works. I have no idea. Is this love? It feels like an addiction. He feels like a fix I need.
Damn my heart for being so weak. Or maybe, thank God my heart has begun to beat again.
“I am.” I am up for anything with you. I don’t tell him that, but I feel it because he’s just changed everything, my world shifting into place before my very eyes.
9
Cruise
Standing on Clara’s front porch, I’m tempted to ask if I can come in, but I’m the one who insisted on taking it slow. Fuck slow. “I want to kiss you.”
“I want that.” I like how eager she sounds.
“I shouldn’t stay.” My fingers tighten around her small waist.
When I don’t make a move, she asks, “Are we taking it slow?”
“I’m not sure I can with you.”
“Do you with other girls?”
“You ask a lot of questions, Dove.”
“And you answer very few of them.”
“This is a lot of talking. How about we just kiss?”
She nods, so I lean down, closing my eyes, and savor her lips when they meet mine. She’s so pliable and willing, her mouth opening and welcoming me inside. God, I can’t wait to be inside other parts of her. Shit. I’m hard.
Sloooooow, I remind myself. Monday. That’s not really slow, but it feels like a form of sexual torture all the same. I back away. “Good night.”
“Wait.”
I’m already two steps down when I look back. I notice how her skirt highlights the curves of her hips. Just like the pink skirt, this black one sends my mind to the gutter. She’s got a killer little body under all those clothes she wears. I can’t wait to take them off her. Again. “What’s up, Dove?”
A little huff is heard, making me smile. I think she wants this as much as me. “You left me last time. After—”
“After?”
“After you kissed me and we did more, you left me.”
Like I’m doing now. Shit. “The two have nothing in common. I left because it was too soon for us to go any further.”
Leaning against the door to her house, she appears conflicted when she looks away. She’s vulnerable in ways that make me want to protect her from the world, and me. Coming back to the porch, I lean on the wall next to her and raise her chin until she’s looking at me. “Hey Dove, I have no reason to lie to you. I’m not hiding some truth to later be discovered. I want to spend more time with you before we sleep together. It’s that simple.”
She angles her head, and I drop my hand. “Are we friends with benefits?”
“We are friends. As for the benefits, that’s the part we’re taking slow.”
Her curiosity is getting the better of her. I like that she’s upfront with me though. “Have you ever had friends with benefits?”
I sigh. This could end very badly like last time, but she needs to know the truth. “I’ve been in a needs-based relationship before.”
“You needed sex so you would call each other?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t it become more? Why weren’t you boyfriend and girlfriend?”
“Because I only enjoyed her company some of the time.”
“And the other times?”
“I didn’t. We wanted different things.”
Filling in the blanks, she speaks just above a whisper, “She wanted you, but you didn’t want her.”
“She also wanted my brother. I think she wanted anyone . . .” Fuck.
Can I trust Clara to want me for me and not my last name?
The answer’s found in her eyes when they go wide. “She was using you?”
“I don’t judge people for wanting more in life. I judge how they go about it. I don’t want to spend my life with someone who only wants something superficial from me.”
“You mean money?”
I watch her as a million thoughts seem to fill her head at once. Her lips twist to the side, and she looks down at the space between us. I reply, “Yes. She wants to marry into money.”
“Money won’t end someone’s pain.” She glances to the street. “I can tell by how you dress and the car you drive that you have means well above mine. What I can’t tell is why you’re here.”
Resting my hand on her shoulder, my thumb strokes her neck. “Because you’re unique. Gorgeous and so fucking sexy. Innocent, and a little quirky. I don’t know what you’re going to say next, but I find myself waiting to hear it.”
“I’m messed up, Cruise. What you find cute isn’t on the inside.”
“I don’t find it cute. I find you utterly fascinating. Remember? You can see it in
my eyes. Now believe me when I tell you. You, Clara Eckerd, are enthralling.”
She turns away from me. “What if I’m not so fascinating? What if I’m just a girl who’s been hurt in ways that are . . .” Her gaze returns to mine. “You spoke of broken pieces, that you’re not afraid of getting hurt, but I am. I’m not healed from the past pain I’ve experienced. If you can walk away from the other woman, what makes me special?”
I hate whatever it was that caused her so much self-doubt. She’s fucking incredible, and I don’t know if I can articulate myself clearly. I take a deep breath and give it a shot. “We barely know each other and all I want to do is discover what makes you tick. I want to know everything about you. What brings excitement to your eyes? But also why you seem embarrassed around me?”
“I embarrassed myself when I asked you to have sex with me. I felt rejected when you left. But you weren’t leaving me.”
“No. I was breaking a habit.”
She laughs. “I know a lot about that. I have a few I want to break, too.”
“Look, this is already heavier than I’ve gotten with anyone in probably years, but there’s something about you that makes me want to open up. So do I want to have sex with you? Fuck yeah, I do. But do I want this to be like every other relationship I’ve had? No. I don’t.”
“You mean that, don’t you? You think I’m special? That’s not a line to get me into bed?”
“It’s the truth, Clara.” I kiss her cheek, then walk back to the steps. “So I’ll say good night because if I don’t leave now I’ll be saying good morning and you deserve better than that from any guy who’s lucky enough to spend time with you. Just tell me one thing.”
