by S. L. Scott
As I follow him inside, I stop and drop the towel. I’m shameless. “I’m not fucking leaving, so you can just get that right out of your mind.”
I watch as he walks in silence to his dresser and pulls boxers from it. He tosses me the same pair that I had given him to wear a week ago. He strips his wet shorts off and slips on another pair. Without warning, he demands, “Why the fuck do you have some other guy’s boxers?” He walks back to the second drawer and pulls out two t-shirts and once again, tosses me one and then pulls one over his head.
I remain there dumbfounded by his lack of attention to my nakedness and by his line of questioning.
“Those shorts are mine. They aren’t some guy’s. I like to sleep in boxers at home—”
“By home, you mean Colorado, not Sunny’s?”
It’s clear what he’s getting at. “You knew I was leaving. I’m a senior. I would lose credits if I transferred now.”
He yanks his cargo shorts up and walks over to the door after putting on his flip-flops. He doesn’t look at me, but says, “I’ll wait for you in the car.”
“Fuck you, Evan!” I yell.
He pauses, but then walks away.
I’m so pissed that I throw the t-shirt on haphazardly and storm across the lawn to grab my wet clothes and bathing suit. I stomp my way to the car with my mind reeling in anger. The door is already propped open and he’s sitting in his seat with the car running. Tossing my soaked clothes onto his carpeted floorboard, I make a production of getting in then slamming the door shut. He glares at the clothes that we both know are drenching his carpet and backs out leaving tread marks at the end of his driveway.
I try to calm my pounding heart. I don’t want to fight with him, and garnering some logic, I decide to try a different approach. “Evan?”
Nothing.
“We need to talk about what’s going on here,” I say, trying to stay calm.
“I think we’ve said enough already.”
“Well, I don’t—”
“Well, I don’t want to fucking hear it. How about that?”
I flinch when he yells, the car feeling way too small to contain this important of a conversation. Turning toward the window, the beauty of the crashing waves mimic the way his words hurt my heart. Silence is the best tactic, and I remain that way the rest of the ride.
He slams on the brakes, coming to an abrupt halt when he pulls into the parking space near the apartment.
After taking a slow deep breath, I try again, attempting to keep my voice from shaking. “Your mother started this. You realize that she ruined tonight, don’t you?” He shakes his head before resting it against the window. “You were happy. We were happy. Evan, we were about to have sex until—”
Sitting straight up, he slams his fists onto his steering wheel, and yells, “Fuck, Mallory! I told you not to do this. But you have to push, always with the fucking pushing. My mother didn’t ruin this! You did!”
“I didn’t say she ruined ‘this’,” I correct him, swaying my hand between us while a sinking feeling sets in. Barely above a whisper, I say, “I said she ruined tonight, not us.” I sit there staring at him, waiting for a response, but his emotions are void of true feelings. My voice is trembling as I let the words fall from my mouth. “Are we over?”
He doesn’t look at me, but it’s more that he won’t look at me. I watch him and my breathing catches as everything begins to move in slow motion. He rubs his eyes with the heel of his palms and turns away from me, hiding his face.
I’m confused by how this day took such a drastic and harsh turn. Opening my door, I get out before he has a chance to stop me, needing a cigarette like yesterday. He jumps out and runs after me, grabbing me by the arms. “We’re not over—”
“Then why does it feel like we are?” I lost hope in us, and the stress of my life falling apart makes me crave a nicotine relaxer.
Sounding just as hopeless as I feel, he asks, “Why are we so bad at this?”
This might be a rhetorical question, but I feel the need to respond anyway. “I don’t know, but it doesn’t seem like it should be this hard.” I start walking for the door again. As I near, I can see Sunny and Zach sitting on the couch talking, laughing, and basically making it look so fucking easy.
“Mallory, I only wanted us to talk tomorrow. I don’t want us to be over, but what you said … or slipped up and said, it’s how you feel and it might not be good for me to think that this can be more than it is.”
This is one of those times I wish I hadn’t wanted to talk it out. Why couldn’t I have left it until tomorrow? We wasted so much time not communicating before and now I try and it backfires. Fuck, I hope I have a cigarette inside.
He lifts my chin up. “Get some rest. It’s been a long day. We can talk again tomorrow.”
I feel like I’m going to throw up. He leans toward me with his lips lingering against my temple before he finally pulls back. This is it, I can feel it.
“Goodbye, Mallory.”
I watch, unable to move, as he shoves his hands in his pockets and walks back to his car.
As he gets in, I rush around the corner and lean against the front door, praying he can’t see me. I slide down the door in agony as my heart is ripped from my chest by the string that had bound us together just an hour earlier. The imagery of it dragging behind him makes my chest ache all the more. I drop my head between my knees and cry.
I cry because of this fucked up situation. I cry because of his mother. I cry because I don’t have a cigarette. But mostly, I cry because the only man I’ve ever truly been in love with just left me.
24
Mallory
I give myself all of three minutes before I stand up, dust the dirt off of my ass, and enter the apartment. Zach and Sunny both look up from the couch, surprised to see me.
“Hey there,” Zach says, smiling like his usual happy self.
Sunny takes a second to analyze me before she asks, “Have you been crying?” She stands up and rushes over to me.
I nod, embarrassed to be breaking down in front of Zach.
“What happened?” she asks.
“I don’t …” I stop to choke down a sob not seeming to be able to get out what I want to say. “I can’t talk about it.”
She strokes my hair back off my forehead, and says, “Is it Evan? Did he hurt you?”
I stare at her not sure if she means physically or emotionally. She’s seen the emotional damage from him already, but she should know he would never physically hurt me. Hell, he’s Zach’s best friend, of course, he wouldn’t.
“We broke up.”
“What?” Zach stands up and exclaims. “That makes no sense.”
“Well,” I start, but my voice wavers. “I’m not sure, but I think we did. It’s all just so messed up. We’re messed up.” I throw my hands into the air, exasperated.
Walking back to my bag, I squat down and dig through it, but am still not able to find a cigarette. I go into the kitchen and dig one out of the emergency pack hidden in a coffee mug in the cabinet and grab the lighter from the TV stand.
I head to the sliding glass door and let myself out. After settling into one of the plastic chairs, I light up and inhale the nicotine. Right now, this might actually be better than an orgasm.
Sunny and Zach are mumbling to each other inside, probably debating who’s going to come out and have to talk to me. “Save yourselves the trouble. I don’t want to talk anyway,” I shout to make it easier on them.
Silence fills the air then Zach appears in the doorway. Guess he lost.
“Mallory, I’ve been meaning to catch up with you lately.” He tries for casual, but his body is stiff, uncomfortable as he makes his way out the door. “You know, me and Evan actually have a pretty cool bond for guys. We have similar backgrounds and—”
“So I should warn Sunny to stay away from you before you two end up a complete mess like me and Evan?”
“I’ll let that slide because you and Evan are a
lot alike.” He takes a deep breath and noisily exhales before starting again. “Listen, I want to say something wise and helpful here, but I don’t know what to say other than you have turned Evan’s world upside down.” I sit up, wanting to hear more as the rain picks up to a steady mist. “He’s different with you … since you’ve been here. He’s better somehow and I thought he was pretty fucking cool before. People say some bad stuff about him, but it’s not who he is on the inside.”
“Who is he then, Zach?” I stand up and walk closer, standing under the awning for shelter. Lowering my voice, I plead, “Please tell me who he is because I thought we were good and then I said something stupid. The walls went up and he shut me out.” I feel bad all over again and try to explain. “I apologized, but he wasn’t hearing it.”
“He’s stubborn, but he heard you. Sometimes he just needs time to process stuff.”
“I met his mother.”
He looks at me with a raised eyebrow. “Oh! How’d that go?”
“Not good. I want to blame her, but really, we should have been more open with our expectations.” I smile to myself. “He can be very distracting.”
“Too much information,” he says and then chuckles.
After an exasperated sigh, I say, “All I want is back in, and I don’t know how to do it. I don’t understand how to be in his world and not hurt him.”
Sunny steps outside and leans on Zach’s shoulder as they take in everything I’m saying. I feel good sharing this with people who care about both of us, who’ll listen. “I can’t help that I leave in a month,” I say. “This summer was supposed to be carefree and now I want to be with him and it hurts to think that I have to leave him, but it hurts even more that he’s upset about me leaving. It was supposed to be a one night thing, you know.” My hand covers my mouth to stop myself from revealing anything more, but I can see they heard every word and my slip-up.
Zach whispers even though I don’t know why since we can both hear him. “We all know you two were together the first night—”
“I can’t believe he told you—”
“No, no, no,” Sunny says. “It’s not like that. It’s just through comparing notes that we all figured it out.” She laughs. “Honestly, it wasn’t that difficult. But …” She steps forward and touches my arm. “Maybe it’s time to finally admit that you two are more than just a one night stand. You’re not in this alone. Evan feels the same about you as you do him.”
Zach wraps his arm around Sunny’s waist, and says, “Don’t waste your time on petty bullshit. You should be together whether it lasts a month or a lifetime. You need to give it your best shot before it’s too late.”
“That’s easy for you to say,” I say confused and open to suggestions. “You have each other and go to school together. Evan and I don’t have anything past August.”
“You need to talk to him,” Zach says. “I know talking is the last thing you two are any good at, but you’re going to have to share your real feelings.” He steps inside the apartment and pulls Sunny behind him. “Now, I’m going to take Sunny to my house and make love to my woman all night long.”
I roll my eyes, no smile, but with annoyance clearly attached to my face. “Yeah, rub it in, why don’t you?”
Ten minutes later, I’m alone on my couch, bed, whatever this little torture device is and thinking hard.
After the long day at the sandbar and then being in the pool, I need a shower. I drench my face under the warm water wishing this crappy feeling away, but to no avail.
I hit the shower lever down, turning it off, and jerk the curtain open. I’m pissed! He’s breaking up with me. He broke up with me. We’re. Broken. Up. That was a final goodbye if I’ve ever heard one and I’ve heard a few. I wrap the towel around my body and stomp into the living room digging my panties out of the top drawer. I grab a white tank top and slide it over my head before heading to my bed. I lay there fuming for five minutes before I bolt upright. “No! No fucking way!” We’re not ending like this!
Zach is right. This is petty bullshit and he’s been stalking me or peeping Evan-ing me, and making me fall for him. He doesn’t mean we’re over. He wouldn’t have gone to all the trouble if he didn’t love me. He loves me. Evan is in love with me. I gasp. Evan. Is. In. Love. With. Me.
I toss the blanket aside and grab the nearest clothes—a black cotton mini skirt and slip it on. I run to the door putting my flip flops on and grab Sunny’s car keys off the hook.
Before I have a chance to gather my thoughts and change my mind, I’m pulling into his driveway and parking. I sit there numb to what I’m really doing here and what I’m going to say to him. The rain picks up and to me that’s a sign that it’s now or never. I’m going to follow my heart and screw all reasoning that contradicts this romantic notion.
I get out of the car, duck my head from the heavy drops, and run. Half way down the path, I run straight into Evan’s chest. Looking up into his eyes, I stand there pressed against him, unsure what to do. The rain gets heavier, soaking us completely. My hair glues itself to my face and his usually messy hair presses down against his forehead, but he still looks amazing.
I’m nervous and scared, hesitant and anxious. “Evan?”
In one swift movement, he takes my face in his hands and our lips are together. The passion that initially brought us together ignites between us again. Even though the cool rain pours down on us, the heat between us prevents us from acknowledging its existence.
He pulls back and looks at me through dark eyelashes covered in droplets. “I can’t be away from you. I need you, Mallory.”
I finally drop my guard and let my pride slide away as my tears mix with the rain, covering my face. When I look down, he quickly tilts my chin back up. Through gentle sobs, I confess, “I love you, Evan. I shouldn’t, but I do. I didn’t want to burden you with—”
His body meets mine in a flurry of hands, lips, and legs coming together. His tongue enters my mouth without warning, weakening my body into his.
Mingled with gasping breaths, he moans into my mouth, “Mallory.” Our lips never part, and we don’t need words to express how we feel. This is natural for us. Our bodies have always said what we can’t seem to.
He moves me backward against the side of the house and under the small protective eave of the roof. My hands find purchase against his muscular abs and pull his shirt up enough to reveal his stomach. I need him and he needs me. This is how we find our way back to each other. I know this physical connection will strengthen our emotional one. His hands skim and then stop on my breasts as he attacks my neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses that could melt an iceberg. My hips squirm against him needing more, needing all of him. When his hands slide down my body to the hem of my skirt, they slip underneath. I throw my head back, hitting the hard structure that my body is firmly pressed against. I pull his shorts open in one swift and easy move, and he moans against my neck. “Why does it feel like we haven’t been together in ages?”
I feel the same. Desperation maybe? There is a neediness we have for each other and it’s insatiable.
Lithe fingers slide into my panties and into my own personal downpour, causing me to gasp aloud. He starts kissing me as the sensation deep inside starts to tighten and twist. His fingers slide out and he leans back to look at me. His expression has changed, and the hunger in his eyes ever present as he removes his shorts and rips open the little foil packet.
We come together as the rain continues to pour. Our world engulfed by sighs and moans, frenzied bodies slick and steady, finding a rhythm all our own.
“Mallory, you feel so good, baby. This is … we are … perfect.”
I wrap my arms around his neck and his lips caress mine. My mind starts going fuzzy and I’m lost in the sensations of him.
I kiss from his ear down across his jaw. Not being able to resist anymore, I lick his stubbly jaw and under his chin, lightly nibbling before moving to that smooth spot behind his ear. His head tilts to the side allo
wing me access as he softly chuckles, enjoying the attention. During the most intimate of acts, I discover the sweetness that my surfer boy is ticklish.
When he turns and takes my mouth with his, his tongue swirls with mine, making me forget all about giggles and nips. “Ahh,” stubble, “Ung,” fullness, “Oooh,” rain, “Oh, Evan.” I come apart on top of him, squeezing my eyes shut and get lost in all that is us.
He buries his head into the crook of my neck and groans through his personal bliss.
We stay still, our bodies interlocked and surrounded by heavy breathing. The rain starts to lighten and then stops. Evan shivers then slowly lowers me, asking, “Can you stand?”
I can’t verbalize a response yet, but I know my legs are too shaky from being held against the house. He lifts me up with trembling arms and cradles me against his chest. Turning, he walks down the path, kissing the top of my very wet head, and carries me over the threshold into his place. On a mission, he brings me into the bathroom and sets me on the edge of the large jetted tub. As the bathtub fills, he continues his kisses, pecking them across my cheek and up my temple. His breath is warm and the contact caring, satisfying the desperation I felt minutes earlier.
“You should take off your clothes. The water will warm you up.” The words seem contradictory to the sentiment, but I know what he means.
“I’m warm on the inside,” I say, with a soft laugh following.
He laughs gently as he stands to take his own shirt off. It’s stuck to him since it’s soaked and he has to peel it off over his head to remove it. The sight of his hard body and concern for me makes me feel loved and makes my tummy flutter. “Get in the tub, baby, so you can get warm on the outside.”
He steps in and holds a hand out to me. I pull the soaked, see-through tank over my head, and strip off my black skirt. I take his hand and step in. We don’t talk as he settles into the water and I work my way down onto his lap, resting my back against his chest. My head drops back against his shoulder and I sigh, content as he wraps his arms around my waist under the water. He kisses my head then says, “I’m glad you came back.”
