355 500 произведений, 25 200 авторов.

Электронная библиотека книг » Emily Snow » The Singles » Текст книги (страница 42)
The Singles
  • Текст добавлен: 15 сентября 2016, 02:02

Текст книги "The Singles"


Автор книги: Emily Snow



сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 42 (всего у книги 45 страниц)

Chapter Twenty-Three

As the days grow colder and the end of the semester gradually begins to creep closer, I discover my feelings for Rhys growing stronger. It’s beautiful and intense, but it’s also terrifying. I’m losing myself to him slowly—piece by piece—and I know that at some point, I’m going to have to let everything out if I want this thing to keep going.

And I absolutely want more of him. When I tell Kendra that he has become a necessity that I can’t see me going without, she laughs at me and tells me to slow the hell down, but it’s true. Rhys Delane has become that presence in my life that reverberates.

“What are you going to do after you finish up here? I mean with working as Professor Cameron’s assistant?” I ask him late one night, the weekend before Thanksgiving break, as he leads me through his dark apartment and into his bedroom. Even though I hadn’t planned to see him until our lesson on Monday, I’d caved and picked him up from Ippy’s after his shift ended fifteen minutes ago.

“Eventually, I’ll teach. My mom has taught music for thirty years, so I guess you can say it’s entrenched in my brain.” He splays his hand over my breast, testing its weight, before groaning and motioning for me to lift my arms over my head.

“Entrenched in your brain. That’s a strong way to put it,” I say thoughtfully as he gives my red long-sleeved shirt a harsh tug up and over my head, messing my hair in the process.

“God, I’m so happy you finally stopped wearing all those stupid hats,” he murmurs in appreciation.

I shiver as the chilly air breathes against my bare skin, but then he drags me to him, warming me with his muscular chest. “You know, I wish I had teachers like you when I was in school.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.” He jerks my jeans down around my hips and palms my sex, ripping a gasp from within my chest. “You’re mine now, Evelyn.”

“That’s an even better word,” I exhale as his finger glides inside of me, and I nearly lose my shit from the slightest touch. There’s so much more to come—there always is with Rhys—but somehow he manages to turn me into a wet, quivering mess before we’re even close to that part.

In perfect sync, we walk backward together, his hand never leaving my pussy, his finger continuing to pump quickly inside of me. Falling back on his bed, a harsh moan escapes my lips. “I love how wet you are.” Shoving my legs apart as far as they’ll go with my jeans still on, he exposes me to him. He rubs his thumb over my clit, flicking the tiny nub deliberately. “I love—”

I close my eyes and throw my head back. Powerless to stop myself from writhing in pleasure against the sheets, I wait for him to finish speaking. And I hope he’ll say those three words that I’m absolutely terrified to say to him first.

I love you.

Because that’s what this is, isn’t it? If it’s not, I don’t know what the hell is.

But then he shoves my jeans and panties down to my calves, and I finish kicking them off. I hear them fall to the floor. Leaning over my body, he strokes his free hand gently over my flat belly and up to my breast. Licking my nipple greedily through the soft cotton of my bra, he says, “I love everything about you.”

The bed creaks slightly when he climbs on beside me. He touches my skin gently as his fingers continue to work inside me, but the moment he sees that I’m close to going over the edge, he pulls them free. I barely have time to catch my breath between him putting on a condom and pulling me on top of him, positioning the head of his erection between my folds.

“I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want you,” he admits, squeezing my breast.

“Anything?” I demand, and he lifts his hips a little, his cock squeezing into my opening. I close my eyes and count to five in an attempt to regain some of my self-control. “That’s a strong word.”

When he sits up abruptly, he fills me completely. I bury my face into his shoulder and cry out, but he laces his fingers into my hair and forces my gaze to his. “More than I’ve ever wanted anything,” he says once more in a low growl.

From that point on, everything is a slow, delicious blur. From the way his fingertips presses gently against my hips as he rocks me against his erection, to the soft kisses he drags all over my sweaty body after we both come and I’m still shaking all over. And then to the way his hands frame my face, touching my skin like everything about me is brand new and I’ll suddenly break at the slightest bit of pressure.

After we’re both clean from a shower, he pulls me to him. He twists strands of my damp chestnut hair through his fingers, and I listen to the steady beat of his heart.

“I love everything about you, Evelyn,” he tells me again before drifting off to sleep.

For now, I’ll take this. I can accept it. Because maybe—maybe he’s just as scared as I am.

***

I need to pick up a few of my books for an English assignment that’s due tomorrow and a few clothes, so Rhys goes with me to my room first thing the next morning. We’re quiet as we tiptoe into my suite. Hannah and Lara’s door is open just a bit, and I can hear the sound of Top 40 pop and smell lemon-scented cleaner as they perform their usual Sunday morning cleaning ritual. Expecting Corinne to be sound asleep with her ear buds in, I touch my finger to my lips and lead him into my room. I’m surprised to find it empty, but there’s a note from my roommate sitting on my desk by my laptop.

Decided to go to Farmville with Ella. If you need me, you know how to find me. XOXO

I refold the note and slip it on the giant stack of papers already littering my desk. “This shouldn’t take long,” I promise Rhys as I rummage through my drawers for clean underwear and clothes.

“Take your time. I love watching you.”

There’s that word again—love. A sweet pressure pools in the pit of my stomach, and I shoot him an impatient look. “I’d rather get you back to your place.”

Still, he continues to study me from my computer chair as I fold my clothes neatly and shove them into my duffle bag. After a few minutes, though, he finally casts a dark look in the direction of my suitemate’s room and releases a breath from between his teeth.

“Alright, change of plans because I can’t listen to the shit they’re playing anymore. Either hurry up or put on something good.”

“Now who’s being impatient?” I tease. Tossing my wavy hair back away from my face, I stuff a handful of underwear into my bag before nodding at the laptop on my desk. “The password is ABCD95.” He gives me a look that screams how incredibly lame he thinks that is, and I lift my shoulders guiltily. “It was easy to remember—the first four letters of the alphabet and the year I was born. Nobody’s figured it out yet.”

Grinning, he opens the screen and starts typing in the password. “Until you just handed it over to me on a silver platter,” he drawls, and I press my lips into a smirk.

“I think I’ve been doing that a lot here lately.”

“Don’t worry, as soon as we—” But then his words catch in his throat. Cocking my eyebrow, I look up from my bag to see him staring at my computer screen, unblinking.

“What’s wrong—” I start, taking a few steps in his direction, but then I stop as he silently turns the laptop toward me so I can see the screen. Suddenly, I have a clear view of what has affected him so much.

It’s the smiling photo of me with my sister.

A dull pain settles on my chest as he comes to his feet and backs away from my desk, shaking his head. “Miller,” he whispers harshly. “Miller.” He drags his hand roughly over his face, as if he’s forcing what he’s seeing into his brain, and then he turns his gaze on me. I’m struck by the look in his eyes. “You know—knew—this girl?”

“Yes,” I whisper.

“Who was she to you?”

I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe, and I’m suddenly shaking, but I finally let out, “She was my sister, Rhys. Lily was my older sister.”

He turns toward Corinne’s bed and his shoulders are hunched as he takes in heavy breaths. “And you already know who I am, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I say, and he releases a broken noise that reaches into me and breaks me apart.

“Did you know before you fucked me? Or did you figure it out when you let me spill all my shit to you?”

I take a hesitant step in his direction, and when I reach out and feather my fingers over his shoulder, he rips himself away from my touch. “Rhys, I—”

He turns to me, his face a mask of anger and pain, and he leans away from me. “Don’t dance around the goddamn question, Evelyn. Did you know who I was when you came over that first night?”

Hanging my head in shame, I stare at the floor. I should’ve known this would happen. Hell, I realized he would eventually have to find out that I’m Lily’s sister, but I didn’t want it to be like this. This is just ... wrong.

“I figured it out the first day we met in Professor Cameron’s office. That’s why I didn’t—” Clenching my hands into tight fists by my side, I release a tremulous breath. “That’s why I didn’t come to lessons with you at first. Because I was angry and afraid. I thought being around you would make me think of nothing but my sister.”

He reaches out as if to touch my face, but then he winces and fists his hands. “And you didn’t say a word?” he demands. “You didn’t think that it would be important to me? All this time I let you avoid telling me anything about yourself. I let myself believe you had a good reason. But this—” Closing his blue green eyes, he lets a rush of air filter from his flared nostrils. “I never expected this. I’m a fool.”

“I didn’t want to make things awkward,” I explain, and I feel the first tears start to race down my cheek. “We weren’t supposed to end up like this. I didn’t want to hurt you anymore than you’ve already—”

“Evelyn.” This time he touches my face, his fingers warm and gentle, comforting, in spite of his anger. “My brother killed your sister. I was the reason why he was back out on the streets to begin with, and yet you’re talking about hurting me? What about you? What about your family?”

“I don’t blame you,” I blurt out. “I don’t blame you because I’m just as guilty. If it hadn’t been for me she wouldn’t have been walking home. I told her to walk home because I was pissed at her, and then she died.” The last word is practically screamed, and I’m trembling so much that I have to fold my arms around my stomach to still myself. “I. Don’t. Blame. You.”

“I wish you would.” Dropping his hands from my face, he backs away from me slowly, each step breaking my heart into tiny pieces. I don’t want him to go. I don’t want us to end this way. I don’t want us to end at all. “I wish you would’ve told me the truth because maybe—” But he cuts himself off with a harsh laugh that pierces me to my core.

“Maybe it would’ve changed things?” I ask softly, but he moves his head from side to side. His eyes burn in to mine as he reaches for the doorknob.

“No,” he tells me, “I would still be in love with you. So telling me wouldn’t have changed much of anything.”


Chapter Twenty-Four

My pride, and the fact that harsh, broken sobs rock my body, keeping me firmly rooted in place, stops me from going after Rhys. I sink down on the edge of my bed. There are so many more things I want to say to him. I want to tell him that I have fallen in love with him too. That I don’t want to let him go because I haven’t felt anything like this since before Lily died. I want to tell him that since I met him, he’s woken me up, breathed new life into me—made me feel alive.

I want to tell him everything, but as the pain clouds my vision, I can’t.

My chest hurts, like someone has reached into it and given my heart an angry twist. And as I lie curled on my side with my knees pulled against my chest, I know this is a mess of my very own making.

I won’t screw up this year. I won’t. I will not wreck things this time.

Somehow, I had done exactly what I swore I wouldn’t do. I have fallen headfirst in love with the one person who could wreck me—the only person I can wreck just as easily.

When Corinne returns to our room, she’s chattering about how ridiculous Daniel is, but she stops short, her breath catching at the sight of me crying. “Evie?” she finally whispers hesitantly, and I hear the door ease shut behind her. I see the toes of her pink and white Chucks as she comes over to my bed. I close my eyes, and when I open them, she has kneeled down in front of me so that her bright green eyes are level to mine.

She tilts her head to the side, her red and brown curls falling against her shoulder as she looks at me in concern. “Do you want to talk?” she asks. “I can listen. Or I can just stay here with you. Just let me know.” When I don’t say anything and only shake my head, she touches my wrist, her small hands oddly comforting. “I won’t leave, okay? You stayed with me when I needed you, so I won’t leave.”

She keeps her word, sitting on her bed and listening to music until I finally sit up. I brush the strands of hair that are clinging to my face away and flick my tongue over my dry lips. “I should start from the beginning,” I say before I answer every question she’s ever asked, every question I’ve successfully evaded. As soon as I’m done, she crosses her arms over her small chest thoughtfully.

“You just have to talk to him, Evie,” she tells me.

So, I do.

***

On Monday afternoon, Kendra tells me the exact same thing when I return her call after I finish showering. For the second time this semester, I’ve skipped Sight Singing and Dictation to try and regroup my thoughts, but it hasn’t helped. If anything I just feel worse.

“I tried to call him.”

Kendra sucks in a breath. “Well then try again. You messed up before by not telling him the truth but you can fix things. You can always fix things if you just suck it up and put everything out there.”

Of course that’s always easier said than done, but I agree with her. “I should have told him.” I squeeze my eyes closed and I can still see the hurt look on Rhys’ beautiful face when he discovered that Lily was my sister. No wonder he doesn’t want to answer my call—he feels betrayed. “He blames himself just as much as I’ve been blaming myself.”

“You shouldn’t be doing that either.” My best friend is quiet for a long pause before releasing what sounds like a sob, and I realize that she’s crying softly. “Evie, listen to me. I loved Lily like my own sister, but you can’t keep blaming yourself. You can’t change it. You can’t go back. The only thing you can do now is try and move on with your life. Tell Rhys everything. If he doesn’t want to hear you out—if he can’t see that you two might be good for each other—he’ll never deserve you.”

“I’m going to go to our lesson this afternoon,” I say in an effort to convince myself to make a move. Scooting off my bed, I pace my room from corner to corner, pulling my towel tighter around my body. “I’m going to get dressed and tell him everything, and if he doesn’t want me—then I’ll be alright.”

Saying those words aloud, though, doesn’t feel alright. They make me nauseous, and I tilt my head back to stare up at one of Corinne’s ceiling stars and release a heavy breath.

“Exactly,” Kendra soothes. “Everything will be alright.”

But when I get to our usual practice room at four PM on the dot, Rhys isn’t there. He’s not there on Tuesday either, and because he hasn’t answered the text or email I sent, I find myself standing outside of Professor Cameron’s door.

She looks surprised to see me, her eyes narrowing for a moment behind her designer glasses, but instead of telling me to send her an email to schedule a time to meet following Thanksgiving break, she gestures for me to come inside. “Please have a seat.”

As soon as my butt makes contact with one, I open my mouth to speak. “I’m just wondering if—” I flick my tongue over my lips, attempting to come up with the best way to ask her about Rhys without ruining his reputation with her. Finally, I squeeze the edges of her desk and ask, “Do you know if Delane will be around next week for lessons after we come back from Thanksgiving break? Exams are right around the corner and then I’ll be singing for y’all again. I just want to make sure...”

My words trail off. I just want to make sure that, wherever Rhys has gone, he’s coming back.

Rubbing her palm over the back of her neck and ruffling her short hair, Professor Cameron appears to give my question a lot of thought before she responds. “Rhys had to return home to Roanoke because of a family emergency, but he will be returning as soon as he has everything sorted out.” Her eyebrows pull together when my face falls, and she scoots her seat closer to the desk. Leaning in close to me, she offers me a sympathetic tilt of her bow-shaped lips. “I can assure you that Mr. Delane’s emergency is genuine—he’s helping his mother maintain custody of his young niece.”

Remembering Rhys’ words about Stacey’s mother, I nod. “I understand.”

“I know you were depending on him for your finals, and I’m more than happy to schedule an extra private lessons with you. I believe, though, that at this point you’re either ready or your not.”

“Yes, that would be perfect,” I say numbly. “Thank you for your time.”

When I get up to leave, she clears her throat. I turn to face her to find that she’s still staring at me understandingly. If Mac could only see Cameron right now, she’d drop to the floor convulsing.

“I have dedicated many years to this music department,” Professor Cameron begins carefully, linking her fingers together. She rubs her thumbs together, drawing my attention down to her red-painted fingernails. “I like to think that I know just about everything going on here. With that being said, I’ve been aware of your relationship with Mr. Delane for some time now. While I don’t approve—and Rhys knows that I don’t support it—I would advise you against bringing your relationship through those double doors.”

I don’t deny what she just said. She’ll only call me out immediately if I do, and besides, I doubt there’s much of a relationship left between Rhys and me. “He’s not going to get in trouble, is he?” I ask, terrified of the possible consequences.

Leaning back, she smiles in surprise. “You’re not a child and Rhys isn’t your professor. Will I look at him differently?” She lifts her shoulders. “Probably not.  He doesn’t go into anything lightly. He was one of my brightest students, and he’s easily one of the most talented musicians I’ve ever met. That was why I asked him to work with you. You have that same talent, even if you don’t realize it. I give my best students the hardest time.” Then the corner of her mouth twitches. “Like your friend Mackenzie.”

This time as I start to leave, she doesn’t stop me, but I turn at the door and give her a grateful nod. “Thank you for seeing me today.”

“My pleasure,” she says and despite the detached tone that’s returned to her voice, I believe her. “That’s what I’m here for so never hesitate to come see me. If it looks like Rhys will be delayed next week, I’ll send you an email to let you know what days I’m available for practice.”

I leave Professor Cameron’s office feeling both relieved and heartbroken—relief because Rhys will maintain his position despite our relationship and heartbreak because he had left without telling me goodbye.

He is gone.

And I have screwed up everything.

***

I go home for the holiday a miserable mess, and my mother seems to notice as soon as I walk through the door because she studies me carefully with a frown marring her smooth face. After she hugs me to her, she holds my shoulders on either side.

“We need to sit down and have a talk as soon as you get settled in,” she says, her face suddenly void of any emotion. Her voice, however, sounds slightly off—just like it has the last couple times we spoke on the phone.

There’s a part of me that’s terrified of what she might say, but I nod. “I’ve got a couple things I need to say to you too.” Glancing up the stairs and then back to her, I give her a questioning look. “After I shower and unpack my bag?”

“That sounds ... perfect.”

When I find my mom an hour later, she’s sitting in the kitchen at the circular table Lily and I used to eat breakfast at every morning. She’s slowly sipping from a coffee mug, and there’s a copy of her book club’s current read open in front of her. As soon as she sees me standing in the doorway, she dog-ears the page and sets the book aside. “Will Dad be home from work soon?” I ask. I’m not sure I want to tell him everything I’ve resolved to say, but Mom presses her glossy lips together into a close-lipped smile.

“Sit down, Evie.”

As I take the chair right next to her, she pulls in a deep breath before informing me, “Your father and I are getting a divorce.” My mouth drops open and I struggle to find my words, but she quickly shushes me. “I’ll go ahead and let you know right off the bat that I am the one who filed. I have done a lot of soul-searching over the last several, but it’s for the best. I realized that when he moved back home and I couldn’t find anything to be happy about.”

I dig my fingernails into my palms. “Mom ... I’m so sorry.”

“Believe it or not, I’m okay. I know that it’s the holidays, and news like this isn’t something you want to hear when you’re trying to be festive, but it needed to be said. I wanted you to understand why your dad might not be around this Thanksgiving.”

“Is that why you’ve been so upset the last few times you’ve called?”

Her lips quiver into a smile. “Yes.”

A heavy weight settles on my chest, numbing me. “This is my fault, isn’t it? If I hadn’t told you that Dad was having an affair, you would still be happy and—”

“And I’d still be stupid. I’d rather deal with pain than false happiness.” Rubbing her hand over her heart, she lets out a coarse laugh before drawing back and narrowing her hazel eyes. “You’re taking this much better than I thought. You and your dad have always been close, and—”

Now it’s my turn to cut her off. “I don’t like cheating. It doesn’t matter how close Dad and me were, I wasn’t going to let him cheat on you and get away with it. If I hurt you when I told you what was going on, I’m sorry. It just needed to be said.”

Mom squeezes her eyes shut, and when she opens them she’s staring directly into mine. She doesn’t look away, and there’s a painful catch inside my chest. “Thank you for looking out for me, Evie. It ... it means a lot to have someone on my side.”

But now, I can’t help but wonder how she’ll feel after I’ve said what I need to tell her. I had hours to think on my way home from Richmond to Bristol, and I decided to come clean with my mother. From Rhys to the role I feel I played in my sister’s death—I was going to tell her everything.

“You might not like me very much after this, but here’s everything,” I whisper, and she stares at me confused. As I tell her about my relationship with Rhys, she listens without saying a word. She’s still staring into my eyes when I finish, and I wish I knew what emotions are pummeling through her. It might help me decide what I should say next. “Say something, Mom.”

“What do you want me to say?” Her voice is barely a whisper, and yet it seems to echo all around us.

“I don’t know. That you’re angry. That you hate me. That you think I betrayed Lily by wanting to be with Rhys.”

Mom races her hands over her face and through her brown hair. “Oh, Evie,” she sighs, “I’m not mad at you if that’s what you’re thinking.” She tilts her face down to look at me, revealing the tears threatening to spill at any moment. “It hurts—I’m not going to lie and say it doesn’t—but only because it makes me think of your sister. I am not angry at you, though.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway. We broke up, so I think you’re safe,” I choke out, and before I realize what’s happening, Mom is out of her seat with her arms tucked tightly around me. It feels right, comforting, and I return her embrace, letting my mother hold me like she used to when I was smaller.

When Lily was still alive and nothing was a mess.

Cupping my chin, Mom bends her face close to mine. “I could never get any kind of satisfaction in you being unhappy. Surely you know that already.” When I nod, she clears her throat. “You said you have something else to tell me?”

Panic washes over me, but I force the words out before I’m unable to say them. “The day Lily died—it was my fault. She called me to pick her up, and I refused to do it. I told her to walk home.”

Mom blinks several times, and the next thing she says obliterates me. “I already know what you told her.”


    Ваша оценка произведения:

Популярные книги за неделю