Make You Mine

by Katy Kaylee

  The thought of it made my stomach twist and I paused, putting my head in my hands and trying to push the negative thoughts out of my head. I knew I had to apologize to her, that we couldn’t go on forever just pretending like it hadn’t happened at all, but I didn’t know when would be the right time or how to approach it. I felt like bringing it up would just remind her of the heartbreak, and I didn’t want to solidify that that’s who I was.

  I didn’t like thinking about it, either. The pain of leaving her. The realization that I never should have agreed to leave, to be gone for so long without being able to see her. Sure, now I had more money than I would ever know what to do with, and I had met Oliver during my time serving, but I would have traded it away in a second for the chance to live my life with her instead, even if that meant struggling through college and getting a low-paying job to start out with. I wanted to do it with her at my side, and I wished I could go back and tell my younger self not to be stupid.

  But it was too late.

  I finally decided on the restaurant I wanted to go to, but I knew that I might need a little pull to get a table on such short notice, so I snuck across the hall to Oliver’s office. On my way, I could see Torryn unpacking things and putting them up around her office, her arms stretched up over her head to hang a diploma on the wall, her ass snug in that skirt…

  I pulled my eyes away, knocking once before stepping into his office. He looked up from a business report, his eyes slightly bloodshot, bags and wrinkles working together on his face to make him look a lot older than he was.

  “Hey, man,” I said, “do you want to take a quick break?”

  Oliver pushed the report to the side, rubbing his forehead and taking a long drink of the coffee on his desk. After a moment, he managed to refocus on me, nodding his head once.

  “Absolutely I do. What’s up?”

  “I’m taking her on a date.”

  “Shit,” he said, looking shocked, “tonight?”

  “Yeah,” I said, in almost as much disbelief as he was, at both the fact that I had gathered the courage to ask her and the fact that she had said yes. I thought back to the look on her face when I asked and wished I was better at reading her, but she had long ago developed the ability to keep her emotions hidden from me. “I’m taking her to Etagê tonight.”

  “Good choice,” Oliver said, lacing his fingers together. “Do you have any plans for what to talk about?”

  “I… I’m thinking I’m going to apologize to her. For what I did, leaving her like that.”

  Oliver made a face like he didn’t envy me at all in having to start that conversation, and I wished that he could take my place. He had always been much smoother than me when it came to situations like that - I had a tendency to be blunt and not communicate what I really meant when I was upset and struggling.

  “I mean,” he said, “I think it’s important that you apologize, obviously. It’s too bad you have that in the way, but that’s the way it is. Just… make sure to take it slow, okay man? You don’t want to rush into anything too quickly here, you want to make sure she knows you really are sorry and not just looking for a quick endgame.”

  Her naked body flashed through my mind and I had to take a deep breath to keep from getting too excited - the thought of her, sprawled out on a bed…

  “Yeah,” I said, putting my fist to my mouth as my voice cracked. Though there was nothing more I wanted in the world than to get her naked and make her scream my name again, to give her pleasure and feel her soft skin under my fingers, I knew he was right.

  I needed her to know my intentions were in the right place.

  I glanced up at the clock and realized I had wasted the past couple of hours at work thinking about the date I was going to take her on, but it didn’t matter. I usually finished my work within the first couple of hours being there, so I had plenty of free time on my hands until five, when most people went home.

  I thanked him for his advice and wished him good luck with the rest of his report, then I worked my way over to Torryn’s office.

  She had apparently finished putting all of her things away and up on the walls because she was taking a seat in the large rolling office chair. I watched as she put the tips of her fingers together, crossing her legs and spinning around like she was the villain in an action movie.

  We made eye contact through the glass and she quickly dropped her hands and uncrossed her legs, tugging her skirt down and standing up, her sheepish look incredibly cute in the situation.

  I opened the door to her office, laughing under my breath.

  “Hey,” I said, “I’ll pick you up at eight, okay? Is it cool if I get your address from your file?”

  “That's fine,” she said, still tugging on the hem of her skirt. “That’s perfectly fine.”

  I grinned at her, knowing I was seeing a little piece of the Torryn I had known from high school in her goofiness and then timidness, wishing I could have seen more of her like that, rather than the new, closed off Torryn that I saw in the interview and around the office.

  At four-thirty, I ended up leaving the office a bit early, and when I got home I quickly picked out an outfit - dress pants and a blue button up that brought out the color in my eyes. Torryn had always been crazy about my eyes, getting me to open them as wide as I could so she could examine them, trying to decide what color they were.

  I pulled the clothes on and examined myself, making sure I looked neat and clean. I brushed my hair back and played with it until it was sufficiently messy, but still put-together.

  It was something Torryn had taught me to do in high school and I had never stopped doing it, thinking about her and wondering if she would tell me it was too much or too little.

  I called about getting a car, ordering a high-end car and driver to pick me up and then collect her, and Oliver had managed to secure us a spot at the restaurant, so we would be pulling up and dining in style.

  I paced for a while, trying to imagine how the night would go, running myself through all the steps and each part of the conversation. I imagined opening the door for her, pulling her chair out for her, brushing her hair away…

  Every stray thought that came along was immediately brushed aside - I forced myself to focus on getting her back, learning about the things that had changed, instead of thinking about her body and her curves, and how she fit into the pencil skirt she had worn to work.

  Even in the car, riding toward the address I’d found in her file, I couldn’t keep the thoughts from running through my head. I couldn’t get the thought about what we’d done in the limo on the way to the hotel out of my head, and in the smooth leather interior of the car I had ordered, I kept thinking about getting her on my lap again.

  The car pulled up outside the building and she walked out right away. I caught my breath, completely taken aback by how beautiful she was. She had only gotten better in the time that we had been apart, and now more than ever, I wanted to run my hands over her body and feel her on top of me.

  She walked up to the car without hesitating for a moment, it was like she could tell I was inside and didn’t need to check. I hurried out of the car and to her side, opening her door for her and watching as she climbed inside. Before I shut the door, she smiled at me, and my heart jumped in my chest.

  I never thought I would see that smile again.

  When we were both in the car, I let my eyes wander over her, noting the smooth material her black dress was made from, and the soft smell wafting off of her, the gentle but powerful presence she commanded in the back, with her feet in wedges and daintily crossed over one another.

  “I have to say,” she said, “I didn’t think I would be climbing into a car like this.”

  I wanted to tell her about my military career, I wanted to tell her about how I had enough money to support us for the rest of our lives if we wanted to just drop everything and go somewhere far away.

  But I didn’t, I held my tongue and said something witty, making her laugh.
A shiver ran down my back at the sound of it, sweet and light, like a wind chime.

  We pulled up to the restaurant and I didn’t miss the way her eyes lit up in appreciation for the big name venue. I hurried around to help her out of the car and told the driver I would alert him when I was ready for him to return and get us.

  We walked inside, and it was almost as though I could hear the collective turn of heads when we did. I knew Torryn looked spectacular, and suddenly, just like when we were in high school, I wanted to put my arm around her and hold her tight, showing everyone who it was that she belonged to.

  I had to remind myself that she didn’t belong to me just yet, but she would. I would get her back if it took me the rest of my life.

  The restaurant was gorgeous, low lit with dark shades of blue and black, a large fish tank illuminating the room and gentle live music coming from a quartet in the corner. The waiters were all dressed in black tuxes and the hostess who escorted us to our table was in heels so high I thought she might have toppled over.

  When we were seated at our table and had ordered our wines, I searched for the courage to apologize to her. I found myself gazing into her eyes, then exploring her face, noting all the things that had changed and everything that was the same. I had missed her so much that my chest was used to aching, and now, for some reason, it intensified because she was sitting across from me. I wanted to reach out and hold her, but I couldn’t. She was just barely out of reach.

  I ran the words through my mind, again and again, practicing how I would start and what I would say, imagining every possible way that she would react, but before I could force it out, she spoke, smiling slightly at me and making my chest tighten.

  “I like that shirt on you,” she said, “it brings out the color in your eyes.”

  “Thanks,” I said, glancing down at the shirt and feeling all the tension drain from my body. It was like we were younger again, best friends, talking because we wanted to and not because we had to. “It’s aquamarine.”

  Chapter 9

  Torryn

  I hated how starstruck I felt with him, I hated how eyes were sticking to us and how I didn’t want it to stop. Beyond the lustrous lifestyle he seemed to live and how much that affected me, I especially hated how easily I fell back into conversation with him as though we had never been apart. I even found that we had reacted to the news and new music the same way since we had been apart, loving the same things and hating overplayed songs.

  It was like returning home for Christmas break when I was in college, something warm and familiar and comforting after hard times. I wanted so badly to embarrass him, to finally bring up the obvious thing between us, but I also didn’t want to. There were two sides to me - one side that was vindictive and cackling, rubbing her hands together and waiting for the moment she could undo him, and the other me, who was so happy to see him again. That was the me that wanted to catch up and find out what he had been doing.

  And both sides of me wanted to know why he’d left me.

  He paid for the meal without me even noticing, and then he was escorting me out onto the street. It felt just like prom again, in our nice clothes and with the expensive food, and I felt the magnetism between our hands hanging at our sides. I wanted to reach out and take his hand, and I told myself that it was just being realistic, trying to convince him that I was in love with him so I could break his heart the way he broke mine.

  “So,” he said, still laughing from the last joke we’d shared, a reference to our government class when we were in high school. “Where do we go from here?”

  “Well,” I said, not believing I was saying it, “you were bragging about that view of yours, why don’t you show me?”

  His eyes widened at that and I grinned at him as the car pulled up in front of us.

  “If it’s really as spectacular as you say, then I want to see it. I know my place has a pretty good view, I want to see what you’re talking about. But if you can’t actually back up the bragging you’ve been doing…”

  “No,” he said, shaking his head and laughing, “I absolutely can one up you when it comes to my place - Oliver helped me to get it. He knew the landlord and managed to slip the lease over to me before someone else could get it. I feel kind of bad for the other guy, but I love the place.”

  “I can’t wait to see it,” I laughed as we climbed into the car, trying to cover my nervousness with the laughter that came so easily between the two of us. My stomach was tight and my hands were cold as I thought about the very real possibility that we would be intimate. I hadn’t been with anyone in a long time… in fact, I hadn’t been anyone since I had been with Lucas. I had been too busy building a life for myself to focus on being with anybody else.

  The car pulled up outside of a formidable looking building on the edge of the tallest clusters of skyscrapers in the city. It was a formidable height, and not for the first time since I’d been in the city, I felt a twinge of fear at the distance from the top of the building to the bottom.

  I saw Lucas noticing my discomfort and I wondered if he remembered my small fear of heights when we were in high school. Sometimes I managed to turn it off, and other times it got to me, making me slightly sick and dizzy.

  He gestured to the door like he was presenting a masterpiece and we walked through the lobby. One of the doormen greeted him by name and smiled at him, then I felt his eyes linger on me. I wondered then, for the first time, if it was common for Lucas to bring people home with him. Was I one of many? Did he lead a parade through the door?

  I tried to shake the thoughts away, telling myself it didn’t matter to my overall plan. Then, I thought that if he was with a lot of other women, he might not fall in love with me again as I had planned.

  The elevator went up and up, and I had to close my eyes for a second to ground myself in reality and tell myself that I was okay - that it was perfectly safe to ride in elevators.

  Then, I felt Lucas’s hand slip into mine, and my eyes flew open. He met my eyes, something comforting and soothing in his, telling me it was going to be okay. This time, my body listened to him, and I calmed down by the time the door opened and we were stepping into the hallway.

  It was beautiful - lined with places to sit and plants and lavish looking paintings that I was sure had to be expensive. We found the door at the end of the hallway (there were only four rooms on the entire floor) and he opened it up with a strange looking key that he just had to hold up to the outside of the door.

  I had to keep from gasping when I walked through the door. It was insanely lavish, incredibly posh. I glanced around at the antique-style crown molding and wallpaper that looked like it was applied the day before, but it was complimented nicely by the modern amenities the place was outfitted with.

  When we walked through the door, the lights turned on automatically and the shades opened so the setting sun was visible through the windows. The kitchen was furnished with stainless steel appliances and they gleamed in the light, giving the open layout a feel of cleanness. The living space had smooth gray seating, a couch, a loveseat, and an armchair all circled around a flat-screen TV.

  “Wow,” I said, turning around and crossing my arms. “It’s a very good bachelor pad.”

  “But you haven’t seen the best part,” he said, gently taking my arm and turning me toward a door on the far side of the room. I let him guide me and open the door to reveal a large bedroom with a California King sized bed situated in the middle. The shades were closed, but with a quick command from Lucas, they opened, revealing a brilliant view of the city.

  The sparkling lights, the sun setting over the horizon, the music and traffic noises from the street, and the orange-red and yellow brilliance of the sunset took my breath away. I had never seen anything so beautiful in my life.

  “Wow,” I said again, turning to him, “I concede. This is amazing. You have definitely got me beat.”

  As I said it, my eyes flicked over to the bed and a rush of heat pooled in my
stomach, swirling and intoxicating me. It turned to electricity in my limbs and shot to my fingers and toes, making them tingle and making me ache for him suddenly.

  I challenged him with my eyes, daring him to do something. Somewhere in the back of my mind, logic was dictating that I shouldn’t have sex with him, that I should be careful with how intimate we were so quickly. Another side of me shouted back that I was planning on breaking his heart, and that it was okay to do so because of what he had done to mine.

  In reality, I was letting my eyes drop to his mouth, then his neck, watching the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as his eyes darted all over my body, drinking in every part of me.

  I wanted his hands on me. I wanted to feel him and for him to feel me.

  “Fuck,” he whispered, stepping forward and taking me in his arms.

  I crashed into the kiss right away, my lips meeting his and immediately parting to allow his tongue access. He dipped it in my mouth, then drew it back, pushing my chin with his own, and I was transported back to the night after Prom when we had made love for the first time. I had discovered myself that night, had discovered the kind of pleasure I was capable of receiving and giving.

  His hands were all over me, running along the fabric of my dress, groping and cupping my body, gliding over the bare skin where it was visible. I shivered at his touch, gasped when he moved away from my lips and to the sensitive skin on my neck, biting and kissing gently. My breath came quickly as he worked, making my knees weak and my vision swim with stars.

  I gripped him tightly and pulled his body against mine, grinding on him through our clothes. He made a low noise in my ear and I reciprocated with a heavy sigh when he slipped his hand between my thighs. He inched his hand up my thighs slowly, and I arched into him when he bypassed my underwear and met my wetness, his fingers playing in it and drawing little moans from me.