Текст книги "Losing Her "

Автор книги: Mariah Dietz

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

When we arrived at the bar, I felt a little on edge. Perhaps it was because you had changed into that black dress that formed a deep U-shape on your chest and hardly had a back to speak of, leaving my mind and body both feeling anxious. Perhaps it was just being out of our comfort zone. Either way, my eyes kept flicking to the crowd to find you every few minutes as you danced with Sarah and my cousin Christine.

Eventually, one of you was ready to go further out onto the dance floor and I watched as your eyes tracked the bar, scanning over the faces until you saw me. Each time you left me, even if it was just to go to the next room, you used to look at me and give me the same smile you gave me then. It wasn’t the smile I had worked so hard to gain from you, and received on a daily basis, but it was still one of my favorites. It held so much emotion. With that single smile I could see your disappointment in being away from me, the adoration you had for me, and the excitement to return. I stopped receiving that smile after I kicked you out of my house following our fight. God, each time I think of that night—that day—and what happened, I hate myself a little more. Please tell me you don’t think that moment, Ace. The moment that I stopped deserving that smile.

The place was pretty full, making it difficult for me to see much of you, but I’d watched you so many times, I knew without being able to clearly see you how your calves constricted with each step in your heels, and the way your hips slightly swayed.

I had the urge to follow you as I watched several heads turn. Whether you want to hear it or not, Ace, your mother was right. Everyone watches you.

You’ll remember this part. I don’t know at what point you actually saw what happened so I’ll start from the beginning. Hank had come over and slapped me on the back. “So how in the hell did you talk her into dating you?”

I gave him a half smile before draining the remainder of my beer and dropping it to the bar.

“Hey, are you interested in doing some body shots?”

I turned my head, keeping my body forward on the stool. Hank of course laughed and took a long pull from his beer before he shook his head and made his way over to a couple of Billy’s old friends.

A girl with long brown hair had sidled up to the bar beside me, close enough that I couldn’t see what she wore without appearing to checking her out, so I didn’t.

She placed a hand on my bicep and slowly curled her bright red nails around my arm.

“No thanks,” I said, glancing at her hand and then to the bar as another beer replaced the one I had just finished.

“No strings attached.” You probably think … shit, these days I don’t know what in the hell you’re thinking, but at that time, you probably thought I would have been flattered. I wasn’t. Hearing her proposition made me fall for you ten times over again.

“He already has strings attached.”

My lips pulled into a smile as I took a long drink from my beer. Hearing the blatant jealousy in your voice only made me fall harder.

“So what you’re saying is, he’s ready for an upgrade.”

My mouth opened to object to the response the dark haired girl made, but your hand gripped my bicep and I turned to see your chin raised, eyes wide, and lips pursed, but curving upwards. It was a conflicting mix of amusement and anger, and it was ridiculously sexy, slowing my thoughts down, and before I could reply, you did. I don’t remember exactly what you said, but it left me laughing.

“I’m sure your boyfriend will be there, begging me to do what you can’t.” The only reason I recall her words is because after that, I couldn’t keep my mouth shut.

“I wouldn’t beg you to lick my shoe,” I stated.

She looked a bit wired, like a bar fight was what she was expecting versus the one night stand she’d proposed, and you looked a little blitzed, which sometimes made you a bit more daring—not as daring as Kendall, but nearly as mouthy.

Still seated, I wrapped my arm around your waist, pulling you closer to me. Your heart was beating so fast and hard, I could feel it against my chest. For the second time that night, I settled a situation with kissing you. Without hesitation, you responded, your body curving closer against mine. My hand settled on the bare skin of your lower back and reveled in the fact that you took it all away. Everything was gone for those few minutes, including the dark haired girl.

I don’t remember what pulled us apart, because neither one of us seemed ready as you leaned your forehead against mine. “Do you need some water, baby?” I asked, as you pulled away and I noticed your eyes were bright.

“That’s alright, I’m good, watch …” You held both of your arms out, and placed one foot in front of the other in a mock sobriety test.

“Yeah, I bet Caulder taught you how to cheat that!” I laughed, but I watched. As your body moved, I swear it spoke to mine. You turned around with a huge smile, and it knocked some of the air out of my chest. That easily you could take my breath away, can you understand what you’re doing to me now?

Then, my breath returned when a girl’s voice spoke over the nearby laugher and conversation. “Hey, do you want to dance?” I looked over to see a girl with dark-blonde hair standing beside me in a tight, sheer dress.

“Are. You. Serious?” Your loud tone surprised the girl and me. I loved it.

The girl quickly backed away, apologizing as she retreated.

You weren’t ready to admit it, hell, neither was I, but I think I knew you loved me then. I think I had an idea of it when you stayed with me when I was sick, but at that moment, I knew.

You approached the bar, signaling for the bartender. It only took him a second to notice you, which wasn’t surprising at all.

“I need something strong. A double of something strong.”

The bartender smiled and opened his arms, gesturing to the many bottles around him. “Do you want a chaser?”

He grinned as you shook your head. “A woman after my own heart.” He lifted a clean tumbler and set it on the bar with a distinct clang. “Rough night?” He was oblivious to me; you have that effect on people. “It must be girl troubles,” he concluded, ignoring a group of people trying to catch his attention at the end of the bar.

Your face was slightly guarded but revealed the slightest trace of humor as you accepted the glass from him. “What makes you say that?”

“Because a guy would have to be out of his fucking mind to dick around with you.”

You drained the glass in one drink which had my eyes widen with disbelief. “I think that stems more from my boyfriend. He can be … intimidating.” You slid the empty glass toward him and dropped a twenty dollar bill on the counter.

I’m pretty sure my eyes closed because I don’t think you even realized what you were doing to the poor bastard who muttered, “I bet.”

“If you see him, tell him I’ll be ready for some crazy soon.” You turned to face me and winked. I don’t think I’d ever seen you wink before that—it made my head shake and my lips slide into a smile before you headed out to the dance floor again.

“And that is why I fucking love my job. How many other guys can say they get to talk to girls that look like that?”

“A lucky few of us,” I replied, turning to see that he was also watching you descend into the crowd, raising my need to stake a claim. “Granted, I’m the one that takes her home.”

“Lucky bastard,” he said, shaking his head.

I couldn’t help but smirk as I gripped my beer and glanced into the crowd to find you again before making my way over to where my brothers and the other guys converged.

I hung out with the small group for a while. Tyler and Greg, friends of Billy’s made me laugh and reminded me a lot of Jameson. I was glad he had made some good friends that seemed more level headed than him.

“I think that girl’s stalking you,” Greg said, inclining his head.

I glanced over and saw a girl in a silver dress, it was the dark haired girl that had hit on me at the bar. “She’s all yours,” I said, turning so my back faced her.

“So you and your girl are pretty serious, huh?”

I looked at Greg and raised my eyebrows, as I took a drink to gauge where his question derived from: interest in you, pure curiosity, or interest in the brunette possibly?

“Yeah, I don’t plan on fucking things up. Especially not with another chick.”

“Hey, boys, you see my woman around?” I looked over to see Trent nearing us and felt my jaw tense. Do you remember Trent, Kiefer’s older brother? They’re both douchebags, so I hope you don’t.

“I haven’t seen them in a while, but I’m sure they’re out there shaking their asses,” Billy said, coming up behind Trent with Hank flanking him.

“Come on, Millers, let’s go see what kind of trouble they’re causing.” Hank wrapped an arm around mine and Billy’s shoulders and we headed to the dance floor.

My eyes scanned the crowded bar. It was dark and the purple lights bouncing off every surface provided little illumination the further we get from the bar.

“What the fuck?”

I turned and watched Billy push his way through the crowd, making my eyes scan over the crowds in the direction he was headed. I saw Molly dancing with a couple of men and one of her bridesmaids. The back of her dress had slid up so high I wouldn’t doubt that the guy was seeing some cheekage, or more like feeling it, since his hands were the reason that it was up so high.

Hank shook his head as we watched Billy push the guy away. “Hell on wheels,” he repeated. “What about you? Any wedding bells in your future?” I could tell by the grin on his face that he was trying to be a dick, but this was probably the hundredth time that someone mentioned marriage to me and the word had been creeping into my thoughts far more than I’d ever care to admit.

He started moving forward, further proof that he was just giving me a hard time, and I tried to shove the thoughts away as we approached you and Sarah, dancing together with a couple of my cousins’ wives and a bridesmaid.

The wedding was simple, walking a fine line between being casual and trashy. Most of my family looked out of place and overdressed in suits and dresses, while Molly’s side wore mostly Wranglers with thick circle patterns worn into their back pockets and massive amounts of plaid shirts. Grandma Miller was ready to raise hell and start tossing people out of the church when she saw a large group of men sitting together, all wearing their cowboy hats. I could see her and knew the tangent she was silently cursing them with, educating them on how you’re supposed to dress nice when you go to someone’s house, let alone God’s house. My brothers and I had been on the receiving end of that speech one too many times. My mom and Uncle Lenny sensed it too because they each reached out and held her hands tightly in their own. She didn’t argue but looked contemptuous each time she braved a glance across the aisle.

As the day progressed, so did my stress. Every time I turned around, someone was there to ask me about when I was going to propose? How? Had I picked a ring? Would it be in California? How many children did we want? Thank God most of them had at least enough sense to not ask me while you were around, because the times that occurred only made the situation that much more awkward. By the time the night was over, I felt tense and agitated with questions that I didn’t have answers to, swirling through my brain.

We ended up back at the hotel room where I took a shower, hoping the time to myself and hot water would calm me down.

You were in bed when I opened the bathroom door, your dress was still on, but your hair was wavy from being up all day. I should have kept my mouth shut. I don’t know why I didn’t just kiss you and tell you I was exhausted and go to bed. There are a lot of should haves these days, and like the rest, this one is answered with, I didn’t.

“What are you reading?” Seeking the comfort you bestowed upon me so easily, I stretched my body against yours. For the first time, it didn’t dull all of the restlessness I was fighting with.

I hadn’t foreseen receiving all of those questions when I asked you to come, and I was contemplating if I was regretting asking you. I had no idea how to handle any of them, because as much as we talked and as much as I knew you cared about me, I had concerns about the large topics we never brought up. Like why I allowed all of the rumors about my “overactive sex life” from high school, or the fact that you dated nearly half of the student body yet never slept with any of them. Those questions suddenly made the air seem heavy.

“I’m reading a book about two crazy people having a very carnal, sexual relationship.” You lifted the book to show me a nearly naked couple on the cover. “Your aunt Louise heard I like to read, and would really like to discuss it with me.” Your lips folded in as you pressed them together.

When I didn’t give a reaction your eyes grew. “Discussing this book with her is going to require some kind of therapy! Read this!” You swung the book toward me and stabbed the page. I looked up to see your eyes focused on mine, waiting for me to actually read it.

My eyes quickly scanned over the words and then I looked back to you, feeling the first traces of humor of the night. “You can’t talk to my aunt about this!”

“I know, right?”

“I mean this book is practically written about us! Hot sexy guy with rippling muscles taking the young, very beautiful girl to his bed and fucking her brains out. This is so us!”

You closed the book and hit me with it, making me laugh. “I’m serious! I’m going to be mortified!”

“I’m serious too,” I insisted.

You dropped the book and quietly sighed before you looked over to me. Your face was full of inquisition, and I felt my smile fade and my muscles tighten. I could tell you were about to ask me a question and I prayed it wasn’t along the same line of questions my mind had been thinking of. The last thing I wanted to discuss was our pasts with how I was already feeling.

“Do you think someone can fall in love with another person in a three-day period when they’ve only been around said person for like five hours?”

That route of conversation didn’t offer relief. The L-word hadn’t been used up to that point in our relationship, and averting the question seemed dangerous. I’d come within nano-seconds of saying it to you numerous times, and somehow the word seemed to stumble and trip as it attempted to roll off my tongue. I wasn’t sure if I should just casually drop it into conversation, or say it before going to bed, or if I was supposed to say it following a big romantic gesture? I was in new territory with all of those feelings, and confirming them aloud made it even more real.

My attention had drifted to the wall with my thoughts, and when I returned it to you, you were staring back at me, your brown eyes wide with patience and thought. I wondered how many other guys had professed their love for you, and the thought made my muscles convulse again.

“I don’t know, maybe?” I clipped.

“I don’t think you can. I mean you might be in love with the idea of loving that person, or possibly even feel the beginning of love because you’re really attracted and click well, but full-on love? I don’t know, maybe it’s just that this book makes sex sound like something we’re doing because we’re animals, rather than choosing who we have sex with, and doing it because you care deeply for that person.”

“Sometimes sex is just sex,” I spat the words. “Sex isn’t a promise or expressing your love for another person. That’s not why people do it. People more experienced realize that sex is something you do because it just feels good.”

Every inch of you recoiled, leaving cold air to sting where your warmth had been mere seconds ago. I watched as your eyes went vacant, processing my words a thousand times over, and I felt like I could punch myself. I knew I needed to apologize and take my words back and replace them with the truth and assurances. Pleas should have been flowing, however the thought of you returning someone else’s love, dislodged the words from my throat.

As you stood up, I saw the hurt you were trying to hide, but you turned and went into the bathroom without forcing me to validate the shit I was spewing. My chest burned from causing that hurt, not only with my tone and my words, but with the fact that I had just told you that sex was something we do just to feel good, when with you, it really was a promise.

The shower turned on and I pushed off the lumpy hotel pillows and headed to the bathroom door to find you had locked it.

I laid in bed, waiting for you to come out, trying to fight the exhaustion of the day. I stayed awake for a long time, but my exhaustion won out and I fell asleep before you came back out.

The next morning we flew back to San Diego and arrived home with an awkward silence still hanging between us.

“Hey, do you want to go to the gym?” Jameson asked as I stepped through the front door carrying our bags.

I wasn’t in any mood to go to the gym and was about to decline when I looked over to see you still closed off, intentionally several feet back from me. I knew I needed to release some of the pent up frustration I still had before I could try talking through things, otherwise my words wouldn’t come out any better than they had the night before.

I told him that I’d change, and watched you slide in behind me without even glancing in my direction.

Kendall flew from the couch and nearly knocked you over in greeting, earning a small smile that she couldn’t see was forced. As you both sat on the couch, your smile grew. No one would’ve suspected that anything was bothering you and that you’d spent the morning ignoring me.

“So how was the trip?” Jameson asked as he pulled his car out, making a wide turn and earning a well-deserved middle finger from a driver that was forced to stop.

“Fine.”

“You seem … sort of …” I turned to look at him as his eyes appraised me. “You seem like things didn’t go so well …” he said slowly.

My head fell against the head rest with a sigh. “I don’t know what’s going through her head,” I admitted with a growl.

“Come again?”

“I don’t know what she’s fucking thinking!” I repeated, running a hand over my hair and then down my face. “She started telling me about this book last night that my aunt gave her, and she was talking about love, and how she doesn’t believe people can fall in love in a short period of time. I don’t know why, but I started telling her that sex doesn’t mean love, and that she’s too inexperienced to understand.”

“So you’re saying we should go back, because you need to talk to her.” He didn’t wait for an answer, pulling over to the shoulder of the road.

“I don’t know what to say to her!” The words exploded from me as I hit the dash with my fist.

“No need to take your frustrations out on Shelly,” Jameson said, stroking the dash above the steering wheel. “Dude, I don’t get it. You and Ace love each other. Neither one of you actually says the words, but you love each other. Really, it’s more important that people show their love than say it, because anyone can say they love you. Not many people can show you, but I understand you need confirmation. Why don’t you just tell her?”

I sighed, dropping my head back against the leather again because my thoughts weighed too much.

“Dude, don’t let your pride fuck things up,” Jameson said, sounding less like a friend and more like an agitated spectator as he turned the car around.

“I just need to know how she feels.”

“Then stop being an asshole, and ask her.”

When we pulled up to the house, I was relieved to see your car still parked beside my Jeep.

Jameson and I stopped in the living room where you still sat beside Kendall who was reading the book that caused all of this mayhem.

“What’s with this chick crying every time they have sex? That’s not normal! Is it?” Kendall asked looking at you with genuine interest. “Do you cry during sex? I don’t.”

“Can we not be that open with all of that, babe?” Jameson shifted, his chin dropping as he stared at Kendall.

“Wouldn’t you rather hear what I have to say, as opposed to doing it behind closed doors? Because it’s going to happen, one way or the other.” I smirked at Kendall’s honesty.

“You don’t just start a conversation like that about sex!” Jameson cried.

“Like you guys don’t talk about sex, please!” She’s right. The week before, I threatened to break Jameson’s nose if he wouldn’t shut up about a blow job Kendall gave him. Probably not something you ever wanted to hear either, huh?

“Yeah, isn’t sex just sex? Something we just do because it’s our primal instinct? We are animals.” I don’t know what brought the salt to that injury, your words, your indifferent tone, or the fact that your eyes only stopped on me for a second.

I noticed Jameson wince, and Kendall stare at you in confusion. It was obvious she had no idea you were pissed with me.

“And with that, I think you’re done reading this book.” Jameson grabbed the book from Kendall’s chest and tossed it across the room. Your eyes follow it to where it landed in the kitchen with a thud. “Something tells me they need to talk.” He took Kendall’s hand and pulled her up.

“Here’s some good advice, don’t repeat whatever it was you said before,” Kendall instructed before they both disappeared down the hall into Jameson’s room.

Without looking at me, you got up and headed to the stairs, reminding me that my time was running out.

“How long are you going to freeze me out?” I asked, skipping multiple stairs to be behind you.

“I’m not freezing you out.”

“The hell you’re not! You’re pissed at me for what I said, and you’re trying to make me pay for it!”

“Pay for it? You think I’m trying to make you pay for it?” Your eyes swung to me. Usually I noticed your lips when you spoke to me, as I’ve said, you have the greatest lips. But your eyes were round with accusation and anger making me focus solely on them.

“People have casual sex all the time! I’ve had plenty of it; sex isn’t always about emotions and deep-seated promises, tying two people together. It’s naive to think that!”

Hurt resonated in your eyes as they narrowed, and the skin between them wrinkled. Then you wiped it clear and grabbed your backpack. That’s when I realized it was your indifferent tone downstairs that had hurt. You were acting so nonchalant and detached, it pissed me off even more.

“You always want to run away when shit gets real!” I accused, holding onto the doorframe to prevent a clear path to the hallway. “You have to stop running!”

“What am I supposed to do, Max?” Your bag dropped on your arm, and for a second, I thought you were going to stay even though your eyes were still hard.

“Fight. Tell me that’s not what it means. Tell me how you feel!” The words came out angrier than I intended; in my head they were a plea.

“Are you kidding? You want to completely demean me and our relationship, and now you want me to profess my feelings for you?” Your hand tightened around the strap of your bag again, and your eyes became slits.

I waited to see something else besides anger to help me calm down so my hurt didn’t lead the conversation.

You wanted me to say something, I just didn’t realize how much until you lifted your bag and yelled, “Move!”

“What is running away going to accomplish?”

“What is being here going to accomplish? All I want to do right now is get away from you! I’m disgusted with you!”

Your words hurt. I’m sure you had been disgusted with me before this moment, like when the whole Felicia kiss in the garage happened, but at that time your happiness wasn’t my responsibility, even though I had wanted it to be. But last November, it was, and I felt like a complete failure and unfortunately masked my pain with anger once again. “You’re disgusted with me for having casual sex?”

“I’m disgusted with you for pretending to care!”

“That’s bullshit and you know it!” I yelled.

“I thought I knew that, but right now …” your head hung as it shook, “… I don’t know what I know, other than I need to get out of here.”

Without giving me a chance to say anything, you pushed past me and disappeared down the steps.

I grabbed my keys and watched your car turn north rather than south in the direction of your apartment. I hopped in my Jeep and followed, allowing a short gap between us. You never looked up at your rearview mirror to see if I was following, not even once. I stayed close to you so no one could merge between us, traffic was busy and I didn’t want to lose you. After following you for ten minutes, I realized you didn’t know I was behind you. You weren’t looking up to see if I was there because you didn’t expect me to be. It made me wonder how long you had been running from people? And how had they never followed you?

You turned into a small, familiar parking lot that was desolate like always while I stayed several feet back, working to wrap my head around a new list of thoughts that were popping up. For so long, I thought you were looking for your perfect Ken doll as you bounced from one guy to the next in high school, standing beside them with a smile that I only realized a few months prior wasn’t anything close to genuine. It was nothing like the smile I got to see, the smile that I put there. Had you just been waiting for someone to finally catch you?

I looped around and parked beside you, extracting a flashlight from my glove compartment. When I made it down to the sand I saw you in the distance. You had already made it a decent way down the beach, your face turned toward the ocean.

“How could no one follow you?” I whispered to myself and set off after you.

I considered calling out to you several times as I tailed you, fearing what thoughts were going through your mind. We never discussed what you were thinking as you walked, but I’m sure it was of my negative traits. I wanted to be fair to you and allow those thoughts to process, you deserved to weigh my bad with my good.

You finally stopped, and stared out at the ocean with your back to the world for a few long moments before I interrupted you.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I hurt you again.”

You girls obviously didn’t get the same satisfaction from scaring the shit out of one another, because all of you Bosse girls were ridiculously easy to startle. Your head whipped around and your body jerked at the sound of my voice.

I tried to hide my smile, but I know you saw it. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to startle you.” Thankfully, you didn’t move when I took a step closer to you.

“Why are you here, Max?” Only your head moved but as you looked back to the ocean, I could see the faint traces of emotions that were still absent from your voice.

Why was I there? Where else would I have been, babe? I shoved that admission aside and tried to explain where my mood swings derived from.

“All weekend I kept hearing how great we are together. How it will be our wedding that everyone’s gathered at next.” I still didn’t know if you were relieved or annoyed that I was there, so I forced myself to allow a small gap between us.

“I’m not giving you any ultimatums or pressuring you into anything!” You turned to look at me thankfully, because your voice was defensive, but your eyes revealed other emotions. Emotions I understood and was familiar with.

You handled this well so I think you understood what I was thinking even though my words felt so far out of reach. “I know,” I began, turning my gaze to the surf and then to you, contemplating if I should just say those three words that are so much bigger than anyone gives them credit for. You have no idea how afraid I was of you, and what your thoughts were of me at that time. I took a deep breath, and shook my head once. “I’d almost prefer you did! I never know what in the hell is going through that damn head of yours! I don’t know what you’re thinking or how you feel! You’ve dated so many guys, and yet you were a virgin! And you weren’t reluctant to sleep with me at all, even when you thought …”

Your chin tilted and your eyebrows scrunched in confusion. I was sure you heard my words and how much they contradicted so many things because I’d learned how to read you fairly well, so well that you’d made multiple comments about the fact. There were times when I felt like I knew you so completely, so entirely that I could watch your face and know exactly what you were thinking. Yet, when it came to me, I felt lost. I stared back at you, silently demanding to know your feelings for me, willing you to tell me that I was enough.

“You think I’m using you for casual sex?” Your words were quiet, and your gaze unfocussed, revealing you were thinking aloud rather than forming your words carefully like normal.

“Max, I’ve had a crush on you since the day you moved in next door.” My heart felt like those damn jumping beans you get as a kid. You rolled your eyes in an exaggerated fashion, one that still I receive often from your sister, and it made me feel almost nauseous. Then your eyes became distant again and I watched thoughts race through your mind. Slowly, your eyes focused on me, and there was a familiar warmth, hiding behind a thin curtain of frustration. “Max, I love you.”

The words reverberated through my head like an echo as I pulled you close and kissed you. A relief washed over me that was so strong, I felt nearly weak. It didn’t take but a second before I felt you relax under me, your lips matching my same need. Your hands snaked around my waist, securing yourself to me though I had you pressed so tight against me, there was no need to do so.

“I love you,” I whispered, kissing you softly once more before pulling back so I could see your face. I ran my thumb along your jaw line, watching your lips. A loose strand of your hair blew across your face, and I gently tucked it behind your ear, studying your entire face so I could watch my words. “I love you so much.” Your eyes filled with an adoration that I not only saw, I felt it.

People say you fall in love. That the fall can be fast or slow, sometimes easy and other times painful; but I never fell. I never even had the choice. I didn’t even get to think about it, or decide, I just was. I was in love with you.