Love You...Never

by Francesca Penn

  “Hi,” I greet her once I’m ready to order. “I would like a Long Island Iced Tea, please.”

  Connor orders a Bloody Mary and smiles at her as she floats off. “This must be serious if you need libations.”

  “Has Amy told you anything?” I need to know before I begin.

  “Just that you two were enemies. Oh, and that she used to believe Caris was the third person in you and her relationship.”

  I wait until the server delivers our drinks before ripping the emotional Band-Aid.

  “Okay, settle in for story time. You will get the uncut version. It just might be more poignant than Amy’s truth, because although she is my best friend now, she was my girlfriend during some of this drama.”

  “And you don’t tell your girlfriend everything,” Connor finishes my sentence.

  I gulp some of my drink before I begin the story. “I’ve been infatuated with Caris from the first moment I’d met her in the ninth grade. It was like being struck by lightening. I was too awestruck to even speak to her. I would just sit back, study, and learn about her from afar.”

  “That’s why you’re still able to remember random stuff about her like her food allergy.”

  “Right. I’d felt God sent me my soulmate early. No, I wasn’t a crazy person who stalked her or anything like that; it was more like when she was around, I turned into a sponge. I wanted to take in everything. We’d been around each other in social settings but never alone. The Caris you met today is her normal disposition. I always wanted to be in her glow. It took me until senior year to get the courage to make a move.”

  I pause and take another drink. I’m getting to the painful part. “I decided to declare my love for her on Valentine’s Day. I’d thought if I told her how I’d felt, she’d confess to having the same feelings. It would be my best birthday ever.” I trace the wooden grooves in the table as I speak. “I couldn’t sleep the night before. I’d spent all week blasting the sappiest Spanish love songs I could find to craft the perfect love letter. I just wanted to get the words right,” I confess as I ignore the ache forming in my chest.

  “I wanted to attach my letter to a gift, so I put my best outfit together and got to school early. The student council was doing a candy gram campaign to raise money. I’d taken twenty-four dollars of my own money. Money I’d earned at my part-time job and upgraded her gift from candy to roses.”

  Connor leans in, hanging on every word. He’d been so far into what I was saying he’d finished his drink already.

  “I waited until the third period. Amy delivered the gifts. I’d received three. One was from Amy; her note asked me to prom. I was flattered. I smiled at Amy as she left the classroom. When I turned to see if Caris liked my gift, she was glaring at me like I was the meanest person in the world. It cut deep.”

  “Was she jealous?” Connor probes as he signals the server for another drink for both of us.

  “I wondered about that, too, but she looked at me like she hated me. Like I’d done something to her – personally. It wasn’t jealousy.”

  “Hmm.” Connor looks pensive as the server replaces our drinks. “You’re not leaving anything out from that morning? You got to school, bought her flowers, and nothing else?”

  “No. Trust me. I’ve been reliving that day on some level for the last almost twelve years. I have no idea what caused the sudden shift.”

  “Maybe another person was involved. You know, maybe mentioned something to her that she didn’t verify.” Connor’s brows dip with worry. “You don’t think Amy did anything catty, do you?”

  “I’d considered it for a moment, but she just isn’t that type of person. Plus, she’s been Ms. Kumbaya and stressing that we should have a sit-down.”

  “You should.”

  “Knowing the right thing and doing the right thing are different.” I sigh hard and dive into the difficult part. “The way she looked at me was enough to crush my spirit, but her getting up in the middle of class, balling up the flowers I’d gotten her, calling me a jerk, and throwing them in my face while everyone laughed at me…killed the person I was before Valentine’s Day.”

  “Ouch,” Connor hisses.

  “Amy knows all those events, but here is where we plunge into the never-told-anyone part of the conversation.” I point at Connor and issue a warning. “If I hear this again, I’ll beat your ass.”

  He nods. He gets it. It’s not enough to say it’s a secret; we men have to guard our secrets with threats.

  “She left class after her tantrum. Like I said, it felt like part of me was dying. Everything blurred; I couldn’t speak, see, or hear. I made damn sure I didn’t feel. I grabbed my shit, left school, and rushed home. I had full-blown teenage angst. The moment my body hit my bed, I cried from that moment – Tuesday – to Sunday.”

  I take a deep breath and let the pain of the memory roll through me. I order an appetizer to give myself time to push those feelings away.

  “Oh, man. You stayed home the rest of the week?”

  “Yeah, I came back with a doctor’s note, so no one questioned it.” I shake my head at the memory. “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t face them – her. The roses scene was unfortunate, but it wasn’t an embarrassment. My classmates would find something else to laugh about before the day was over since it was high school. I couldn’t show them how much she’d hurt me. I needed time to fortify my thoughts and get a game face.”

  “I’m sorry, man. That’s rough.”

  “Worst birthday ever; however, it didn’t stop there. She became meaner. That’s how I remember it. Amy claims we avoided and ignored each other. She’s adamant that the arguments didn’t start until I started dating her.”

  “Why? Did Caris hate Amy then?”

  “No. According to Amy, Caris was jealous of us being together.”

  “But…that makes no fucking sense if you told her how you felt in the letter and she didn’t accept it.”

  “Thank you! That’s what I said! Confusing, isn’t it? Apparently, we don’t speak Woman. I didn’t put anything cryptic in that letter. I’d given her every sentiment I could muster.”

  “I get it. You had a terrible birthday and end to senior year, but I still feel like something is missing. Her actions were bad, but you had strong contempt when I mentioned her to you at the beginning of the project. Do you hate her that much for what she did that long ago?”

  This is the answer I’ve been avoiding. Especially with Amy. It’s one thing to know I had Caris on the mind while we were dating; it’s a whole other animal to know my true feelings for Caris while dating her. I wonder if saying it out loud will help me heal if things go wrong with my newly acquired fuck-buddy.

  “No. I still love her despite what she did.”

  If Connor were a cartoon character, his jaw would be on the floor. I’ve rendered him speechless. I don’t wait for a response; I just keep talking.

  “I know it’s crazy, but I can’t change it. I get mad at myself because she has a hold on me, then I get mad at her. Honestly, I’m mirroring her. She started this rift but acts like I did. It’s a frustrating cycle.”

  “Wow. That’s why you’re unavailable to the women trying to get you.”

  “Yeah. I would be settling. I can’t love another the way my being wants to love Caris.”

  “I’m not going to ask you if you’re sure, that would be stupid. But, how are you sure?”

  “I just know. It’s hard to explain, but I feel like my DNA was coded specifically to match hers. To this day, I feel more just looking at her than I feel being with other women. I have nothing to do with all of my emotions but lash out; especially when she picks a fight.”

  “Or, you can fight for her instead of with her,” Connor interjects.

  “You’re right. But the thought of being rejected twice is terrifying. I need confirmation.”

  “How is sex not confirmation!” Connor exclaims incredulously.

  I furrow my brows at him while I take in more of my drink.
Where did Spark find him?

  “Have we met?”

  Connor let’s out a bark of laughter. “That’s right! Sex would mean a lot of women are in love with you.”

  I shrug. “Not that many but a good amount. I know she’s sexually attracted to me because she jumped me the first time, but nothing else.”

  “You must try. If she’s your only hope for love, marriage, and children, don’t give her any more time to find another guy. You heard her; she wants all those things.”

  “That’s where Amy’s suggestion kicks into play. I asked her how I could know for sure. She suggested I see if Caris mood lightens…”

  “Lightens?” Connor scoffs. “It’s a whole new personality. Now, what?”

  “Amy said I should test the waters by paying attention to another woman.”

  “Another woman? What’s that supposed to do?”

  “Well, if she turns back into the battle axe, then we know her mood is triggered by jealousy.”

  “Or, since you’ve seen each other naked a few times, she will be hurt and feel like one of your conquests.”

  “I know; she was giving me a way to build the courage to broach the subject. Like, maybe if she got mad, it’d fortify my resolve to tell her she’s the only woman I’ve ever really wanted.” I look at Connor, so he knows I’m serious. “I’m not all cold. I did try to love Amy. I hate that my preoccupation hurt her. That’s why I never tried to have another girlfriend. I do love her, just…”

  “Not in the romantic sense. I know.” He smiles and reverts to his usual sunshine. “You better not love her like that anyway. She’s my woman.”

  Chapter 16

  Emiliano

  I can’t sleep. I’d be able to sleep decently since my Caris collision, but the version of her I’d fallen in love with a long time ago resurfacing has me shook. She still hasn’t contacted me, even with the good day we’ve had. Then again, it’s the man’s job to do the contacting. Isn’t it? Even if it’s one o’clock in the morning, my dick is hard, and all I can think about is making her moan my name?

  It is Friday night or Saturday morning – depending on how the person looks at it – and I can’t get her, her body, or how perfect she feels out of my mind. I’m still mulling over Connor’s advice from several hours prior, but I can do what I know how to do now.

  Unlocking my phone, I try to think of something clever to send. What do you send a woman you’re pretending not to love to initiate a booty call?

  I type out and erase several options until I decide to stop trying too hard.

  Satan: WYD?

  I reposition myself onto my back. I stare at the ceiling, torn between the two versions of myself. The defensive side hopes she’s asleep, and the love-struck side hopes she wants to play.

  Broom Hilda: Did your grown ass just “WYD” me at 1 something in the morning?

  I can’t help but laugh. She gets on my nerves.

  Satan: Yes.

  Broom Hilda: In my bed like a normal person. My guess is you probably figured as much because there’s only one reason a man would text a woman “WYD” this late.

  Truer words have never been typed. I didn’t need to do the work. It’s only one thing left to say.

  Satan: In or out?

  Caris

  I can’t believe I sent Emiliano my address. I take a quick shower, although I’ve already had one. I want to replace my soothing lavender-scented lotion with a soft, alluring scented one. I brush my teeth once more because I need to ignore the reality of this moment. Emiliano is coming to my house. He’s on his way because he’s horny. I swoon a little on the thought. My body was ready the moment I saw his name flash on my screen. I’d been hoping for a similar scenario when I’d pulled out my vibrator. I’ve been hot for him since I’d straddled him in my office. I’d started to wonder if this would happen again, then there he was sliding into my text messages.

  My doorbell rings three hairstyles and six outfit changes later. I check my doorbell app to verify it’s Emiliano just to be safe. Is it wrong to want to scream like a fan who’s about to meet her favorite rock star? I take a deep breath and exhale slowly to walk calmly to the door. I’m wearing nothing but a purple sheer lace robe because who are we fooling at this point? It’s one of my favorite pieces; it’s long-sleeved but stops just below my ass. I love the scalloped lacing on the sides and hem.

  I see his silhouette through the frosted glass and wood door; my twat and clit pulse in anticipation. We’re doing this again. My home is dark save for the lamp in the entrance. I open the door for him and wave him in like a butler; the door still blocks most of my person.

  “Hey,” his greeting is beyond arousing because his voice is that unused kind of husky. “I’d briefly wondered if you sent me to the wrong address.”

  “Darn, that was a good idea, though,” I offer absently as I look at my driveway. “You even park like an asshole.”

  “What?” He’s part amused and confused.

  I close and lock the door, to lean against it. Emiliano’s hair is clean and free of product; it looks soft and is styled as if he’d just run his fingers through it. He’s wearing a long-sleeved navy t-shirt, jeans, and slide-on shoes.

  “I said you park like an asshole. You didn’t just choose a side of the driveway; you parked in the middle.” His hot eyes roam my body as I speak. “A considerate person would choose a side.”

  “You’re expecting more company at 2 AM?”

  “No, it’s the principle.” He shrugs unapologetically. “What if I said no sex unless you move it?”

  He kicks off his shoes and invades my space. I can smell the soap and feel the heat bouncing off his body. He’s really here. I watch as his finger trace the inside curve of my boob where the robe falls open. I feel goosebumps rise. My body heats up; I’m already falling under his spell.

  Emiliano’s ever kissable lips hover over me. He has yet to kiss me; I want him to, but I don’t have time to dwell because he’s pulling me close. My face is against his hard chest, his lips are near my ear, and his hand is resting on my ass. I can feel his arousal poking me.

  “What if I said, if I have to get back in my vehicle, I’m leaving?”

  It’s a rhetorical question because he picks me up, slings me over his shoulder – like I’m not five-seven – and proceeds to find my bedroom. I don’t help him. I hate that this is arousing. He drops me on the bed once he finds my room.

  “You big barbarian,” I complain without all my usual heat. “You barreled in here, ignoring parking courtesies, then you manhandle me and drop me on my bed…”

  “Do you want to argue or fuck?”

  Both. “I’m sure there’s some kind of rule against inviting evil into your home,” I muse out loud.

  His lips twitch into a smirk. “I thought the same thing about you going to Connor’s house.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t drag me in here by my hair.”

  “I should’ve.” His big hand warms my cheek as his thumb traces my lips. “Why does such good pussy have to be attached to this mouth?”

  I gasp and bite his thumb. I’m nowhere near offended as I should be. I’m literally hot and bothered.

  “You cannot compliment one part of me while insulting another. That’s not how this works.” I get on my knees on the bed to glare at him properly. “My lady garden might not allow disrespectful visitors. Besides, I can also do wonderful things with my mouth. You’re not worthy.”

  “Well, I was going to explore your ‘lady garden’ with my tongue, but if I’m not worthy, you aren’t either.” He’s back in my space. I want to lick him. “And I also do wonderful things with my mouth.”

  I had a comeback. A really good comeback. A zinger. I’m serious. It was going to be epic, but it dissipated when he took off his shirt. Holy Mario Lopez! His body is so edible. I’d known he is fit, and I’d guessed he had a muscle or two, but I had no idea he had a swimsuit-model-slash-aspiring-action-hero-body. Had I known of all the treasures hidin
g underneath his clothes, I would have demanded for him to remove his shirt during our office romps.

  “Oh, wow. You’re I’m-at-the-gym-seven-days-a-week-and-follow-a-strict-diet fit.”

  “Four days and semi-strict,” he admits. I don’t care because my hands are currently exploring his shoulder and pecks reverently.

  His skin is warm, soft, and taut. Emiliano’s heart beats its excited cadence against my fingertips. He’s really here. Emboldened, I let my fingers trace his abs, glide down his happy trail, and dip under the waist of his jeans. He inhales sharply when my fingers find his aroused flesh. I pause just like that. I breathe in his scent and revel in his warmth. He’s the man and the boy who has occupied my brain more than anyone. In high school, I prayed for the moment he’d speak to me. I’d fantasized about him confessing that he couldn’t think of anyone but me. I wanted him to love me; he didn’t.

  We bicker, and his words hurt, yet I find myself in a similar place. I have his attention, sexually, and I still want him to love me.

  “Your body is amazing,” I confess softly.

  Emiliano tugs at the bow on my robe. It falls open to remove the thin barrier between us. I move my hand from his pants to assist him. His eyes devour my naked body. I shudder when his hands begin their exploration. I want him with my entire being. He pulls me close; my excited nipples press against his hard chest; we both moan. His hand returns to the side of my face, and his forehead rests against mine.

  “Your body inspires wet dreams, nena.”

  Speaking of wet, that’s me. Damn him and his accent. Emiliano kisses each cheek, my forehead, and my nose. I want him to kiss my lips. Both sets if I’m being honest. This is our first time being skin to skin. I love it. I want all his skin against mine. I wrap my arms around his neck and lace my fingers in his hair. I kiss his collarbone then rest my forehead on it. I’m hugging him. I know this is a booty call, and we’re supposed to be deep into boning right now, but I can’t help it. I just want to hold him and soak up a sweet moment while I can.

  I don’t know if he feels the same way, or if he’s just willing to go through this part to get to the sex, either way, I’m happy when his strong arms wrap around my waist to return the hug. I keep my emotions in check; I don’t need to get weepy in front of him. I close my eyes and savor the opportunity I may never get again.