Gravity: A Novel (9 page)

“Well, I should go,” I said, as I set my glass on the marble countertop.

Drew came up behind me, setting his glass next to mine; he grabbed my wrist and turned me until I was facing him. Without warning, he leaned down and kissed me, while drawing me closer with his arms wrapped around my lower back. Unable to process what was happening, my body took over, and I kissed him back as my hands found their way around his neck. He kissed me with such intensity, his tongue weaving around mine, that a moan escaped my lips. My entire body came alive under his touch.

He lifted me until I was sitting on the counter
, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, my hands in his hair. For a mere thirty seconds, my hazy thoughts drifted to Ryan. I hadn’t kissed anyone but him, like this, in so long that Drew’s tongue in my mouth should have felt foreign, but there was something so right about the moment. Ryan’s indiscretions filled my bitter heart, and I kissed Drew back with more determination. I could feel the hard definition of his chest pressed up against mine, his warm, strong hands on the bare skin of my back where he held me underneath my shirt. Desire pooled in my gut, heat building in my core, as I lost myself in him.

It wasn’t long before he was walking toward the master suite with my body still wrapped around him.
He laid me down on the bed, and my legs untangled from his waist as he pulled away from me. I felt the sudden loss of heat the moment his body left mine. I watched him in anticipation of what was to come as he pulled his shirt over his head and unbuttoned his jeans, letting them fall to the ground. I was mesmerized by the sharp cuts of his chest and abdomen, and the defined V that led to his man parts beneath his boxers. The man before me was more amazing than the teenage boy that I remembered, and I ached to reach out and run my hands over his body.

I sat up on the edge of the bed as he grabbed the hem of my tank top and began to pull it off.
I raised my arms slowly over my head as he lifted it from my body. He interlaced our fingers and pulled me to stand in front of him. Tenderly sweeping my long hair from my neck, he slowly kissed me behind the ear, trailing gentle kisses along my neck, collarbone, and finally the top of my breasts, where they spilled out of black lace. I felt his hands reach behind my back and unclasp my bra, peeling the straps down my arms—one at a time—until it fell to the ground. His warm hands cupped my breasts firmly as his tongue found my mouth once again. My legs were shaky from the sensations that Drew’s touch evoked, so I wrapped my hands around his neck to steady myself. My cropped skinny jeans were next as he pulled them from my body before pushing me back gently against the bed.

My thoughts were incoherent at this point.
I was all body, all sensation, relishing in the way Drew made me feel. His hands and mouth worshiped every inch of me until I was reduced to a panting, pleading bundle of need, practically begging to feel him inside me. The incredible sensation I felt when he finally was inside me nearly sent me over the edge. He hovered above me, whispering my name with the first few penetrating thrusts, the passion between us escalating from slow and gentle to rough and urgent and then back again as he made love to me for hours. I lost sight of everything beyond Drew. Aware of only him as he moved our bodies from one place to another; shifting seamlessly from above me to beneath me and then behind me, taking and giving, his movements tender and yet demanding. His touch reminding me of what my body could do, what my body could feel. It had been too long since I had felt like this.

Sixteen

I awoke in the morning, my heart pounding in my head.
The sun was streaming in through the tall windows, and it took a moment to remember where I was. My location was made perfectly clear when my eyes found Drew asleep next to me. The sheet was barely covering his manly parts. I took a moment to watch his chest rise and fall with his breath; even in sleep he was beautiful. My spotty memory from last night filled my mind, and I jolted to a sitting position.

“Oh
, my God,” I muttered to myself. I suddenly felt sick and not because of what I had done, but seriously sick. I ran, completely naked, to the bathroom. Barely making it in time, I threw up in the toilet. I splashed water on my face and rinsed my mouth.
Ugh, why did I drink so much last nigh
t
? I thought. I wrapped a large fluffy towel around myself before returning to the bedroom.

I found Drew sitting on the edge of the bed with his face buried in his hands, the sheet wrapped around his waist.

I moaned and crawled back into bed, pulling the down comforter over me.

“I am so sorry, Gemma,” he
groaned.

“For what?” I asked
, rolling onto my side, staring at his back and the way he was hunched over.

“For last night
,” he said, turning to face me, gripping his hair in his hand. “You’re married, and I’m not
that
guy. I just . . . I don’t know what came over me.”

I propped myself up with my elbow and looked into his eyes.
“Drew, don’t apologize. Please, don’t apologize. Last night was amazing, from what I remember anyway.” Sighing out loud, I slumped back down on my back, my head sinking into the plush pillow and added, “My marriage is . . . complicated right now.”

“What do you mean by complicated?” he asked
, lying down next to me.

I looked up at the ceiling, contemplating how much to tell him.
“I left Ryan. I walked in on him having sex with a woman from his office. In our bed.” I rested my arm across my face, feeling ashamed and embarrassed.

“What did he have to say for himself?” Drew asked, his voice tense, tinted with anger
as he leaned toward me.

“Nothing.
I literally walked out on him, and I haven’t spoken to him since.” I peeked at Drew’s face from underneath my arm. His jaw was tense, but his eyes were soft, etched with sadness.

“I’m so sorry, Gemma.
You deserve so much better than that.”

I slowly brought my arm away from my face and turned on my side to face him. “That’s just it.
As angry as I am, it’s just as much my fault as it is his. Our marriage has been strained for some time now.”

“Do you still love him?”

“Yeah. But I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know if I can ever erase that image from my mind, the image of him with another woman.” I rolled onto my back again, feeling guilty for what I had done with Andrew. “And look at me. I’m no better.”

Drew swept the hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear
from where he now hovered over me, propping himself up with his arm. “Gemma, you
ar
e
better than this. Last night was my fault. You had a lot to drink, and I should have left you alone. I just can’t help the way I feel when I’m around you. I was too weak last night to fight it.”

I looked up into his blue eyes, his gaze so full of love and adoration.
Drew pulled my heart in two separate directions. Part of me loved him, loved him in a way that I will never understand, the way a person loves someone who once shared her heart and soul, someone who knew all a girl’s faults and still loved her in spite of them. And the other part of me feared him. I feared what he represented, the painful memories that awakened in my mind in his presence, the resentment I had felt toward him for years threatening to resurface.

“I should go,” I said, suddenly feeling overwhelmed.

“Don’t go, Gemma. Stay with me, please. We can’t take back what happened last night. Can’t we just enjoy it a while longer?” He pulled me into his arms and held me.

I couldn’t deny how natural it felt to be lying next to him, our bodies molded together.
His touch ignited a fire inside me that had been burned out for too long, bringing the realization of just how dead I had been inside. I longed to feel alive once more, to see the world in color, to breathe again. I lay in his arms, feeling every beat of my heart, every breath that filled my lungs, fully aware of every newly awakened piece of myself . . . until I fell sleep.

Seventeen

I watched the dark beer bottle spin in the dirt, visible in the glow from the bonfire as I crossed my fingers in hope that it landed on me.
It stopped, its long neck pointing toward Krista, a local girl with large breasts and a reputation to boot. I held my breath as I watched Drew lean forward and press his lips against hers. She was a little too eager to kiss Drew for my taste, and I felt confused by the jealousy that burned through my blood. Drew gave her the subtlest peck on the lips before pulling away. Her disappointment was palpable even from where I was sitting. Every kiss so far was subtle and innocent among the six of us who had dared to play spin the bottle, which was surprising with the amount of beer we were drinking.

It was my turn.
I twisted my wrist and released the bottle, watching it spin around and around, hoping that it landed on Drew. I was desperate to kiss him and watching him kiss Krista had only made me want him even more.

“Oooh,” the girls swooned as the bottle pointed at Logan who sat to the left of me.
I sat waiting for a friendly peck but soon felt Logan’s hand on the back of my head, drawing me closer as he devoured my lips with his own, prompting my mouth open. I felt his tongue slip inside and caress mine with expert skill. I got lost in his kiss until he pulled away moments later. I looked into his eyes as he sat back down in the dirt beside me, stunned that my friend had just kissed me like that.

I was abruptly pulled from the trance that I was lost in when Drew stood up, mumbling, “What the hell?
” He kicked dirt our way as he stomped off.

I immediately stood and chased after him.

“It’s just a game,” I heard Logan yell at us.

“Drew?
What’s your problem?” I asked when I caught up to him at the tree line. We were at a party in the clearing, a popular spot for a bonfire and a night of drinking. It was surrounded by the forest and very secluded, only accessible in an SUV by a narrow dirt path.

He stopped to
confront me, his face red and laced with anger. “What’
s
m
y
problem? What was that all about?”

“It’s a game, Drew.
And that was all Logan. Not that it matters.”

“You kissed him back.
And it does matter,” he shouted.

“And you kissed Krista, so what’s the big deal?” I shouted back.
I was so confused by his anger, my anger—the whole conversation.

“I didn’t kiss her like that,” he said
, pointing toward the bonfire where our little game was being played.

“So what?”

He stepped closer to me, lowering his voice just a notch. “Don’t you get it, Gemma? Don’t you see what’s happening here?”

“What?” I asked, feeling angry
at him for shouting at me and causing a scene.

“Forget it.
I’m leaving. Why don’t you ask Logan for a ride home? I’m sure he’d be more than happy to give you one.” Drew stormed off, climbed into his Bronco, and disappeared into the trees, leaving behind a cloud of dust. I started to cry. I wasn’t sure why I was crying. I was so confused. I wasn’t sure if I loved Drew or hated his guts. I stepped into the forest, surrounded by darkness and leaned against a tree. I just needed a few minutes to compose myself before returning to the fire. I could hear the voices of my friends fading in the distance as nature engulfed me, offering the privacy that I needed in that moment. Why was Drew so mad at me? What was happening between us?

I heard a branch snap behind me, but
, before I could turn around, a hand clamped down over my mouth and a warm body pressed up against my back. The scream that escaped me was muted by his firm grip, but the fear swelled inside me—suffocating me as I struggled to breathe, fighting for every breath . . .

***

“No, . . . no, . . . no . . .” I screamed.

“Gemma, wake up,
baby. Wake up.”

I snapped
open my eyes at the sound of his voice. Drew was shaking me awake. My body was covered in sweat, and I was trembling uncontrollably. He held me against his chest, rubbing his hand up and down my back, trying desperately to soothe me.

“It was just a dream, Gem.
Just a dream.”

My s
obs erupted from his words; it wasn’t just a bad dream. It was real, and my dreams were a vivid, detailed reminder of the nightmare that I had already lived through. He held me tighter while I cried. I was thankful for his comfort in that moment, but I knew that he was the reason it was all coming back again. His presence was too much, being here at the lake too much of a reminder.

When my sobs subsided, leaving behind only hiccuplike bursts of air
—always the ugly aftermath of an emotional breakdown—I pushed Drew away.

“I’m sorry.
I have to go,” I whispered, as I frantically searched for my clothes that were strewn throughout the room. I pulled on my pants—not bothering with my panties—and my wrinkled shirt that was in a heap on the floor. With my bra and shoes in hand, I raced out of the bedroom, grabbing my purse along the way as I left Monroe Manor. I ran down the driveway toward my cabin, my bare feet aching from the sharp rocks in the road. I didn’t let it slow me down. I reached my cabin—out of breath—and threw myself on my bed, hiding, in fear that Drew would follow me.