Keep From Falling (Markson Grove Series Book 1) (62 page)

“Are you still feeling sick, hun?” Adrienne asks, squatting down beside him and rubbing her hand over his back in an attempt to comfort him. “When he’s sick, he likes his back rubbed,” she says to me.

“Stop acting like you know me so well, Adrienne,” Evan mumbles.

“There’s the charmer I know and love,” she says with a smile. “Do you want me to stop rubbing your back?”

“No.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Do you feel like you still need to be sick?” she asks him in a singsong voice, almost as if she’s speaking to a child. It makes me want to giggle even though I know I shouldn’t.

He shakes his head.

“Ok, well, Bree and I are going to help you into the bed then. Think you’re going to be ok with that?”

It’s blatantly obvious that she’s taking far too much pleasure in making him feel uncomfortable. He doesn’t want either of us taking care of him right now, but we are all he has and she’s making sure he doesn’t forget it.

He nods.

I move to the other side of Evan and put my hands under his arms to lift him up while Adrienne does the same with his feet. After quite a struggle, we manage to get him upright and into the bed.

He takes in a few steady breaths before finally drifting off into the land of sleep.

Evan

I don’t fall asleep right away, even though it’s clear to me that both Bree and Adrienne think that I do. I’m very much awake and able to hear everything they are whispering to each other beside me.

Adrienne continues to rub her hand over my back and the feeling of it is incredibly relaxing. She knows how much I can’t resist a girl running her hands over my back, it’s my
kryptonite
, and she’s taking advantage of it. I want to keep hating her, I want to tell her to get lost and leave Bree alone. I want to call her out on what it is that I see she’s doing. But I don’t because this feels so good, and it makes me not want to puke, and right now I need that so much more than being able to tell my ex to shove it.

“Is he asleep?” I hear Bree ask.

“Yeah, I think so,” Adrienne replies.

I feel the bed dip slightly, letting me know that Bree has taken a seat next to me. She begins to run her hands through my hair. The knowledge of two beautiful girls—both of whom I’ve slept with before—touching me at the same time, makes my body react unintentionally. But thank God I’m lying on my stomach and they are both completely unaware of it. I can’t even imagine how embarrassing it would be trying to explain that without coming across as a pervert.

“Are you ok?” Adrienne whispers to Bree.

“I feel empty,” Bree replies. The words sting. I hate that I did that to her.

“You don’t think he’ll change his mind when he’s sober?”

“I don’t know… I’m not even sure if I want him to. Everything he said wasn’t wrong.”

I knew she’d realize what I said to her was the truth, but I honestly wasn’t expecting her to accept it this soon.

This sucks.

“What did he say?”

There’s a long pause as Bree stops running her hands through my hair and readjusts herself on the bed. “He said that he’d never be what I need.”

Adrienne seems to ponder Bree’s words. “I don’t know,” she says finally. “He’s a pretty perfect guy. What is it that he thinks you need?” I can’t help but smile in spite of myself. For someone who’s cheated on me our entire relationship, she really does seem to hold me in high regard. Maybe she actually does feel bad about what happened between us.

“He
is
perfect. Honestly, I couldn’t ask for better.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“He’s not a girl.”

“Oh.”

There’s a long silence between them. Adrienne continues to run her hand along my back, and without the sound of their voices distracting me, I begin to drift off.

“So what you said to me on the bus wasn’t true?” Adrienne says eventually, and it pulls my conscience back to the conversation.

“I just don’t like labels. But I really do love him, you know?”

“Um… ok, I guess.” Adrienne takes her hand off of my back and I feel her crawl over my body in order to sit right in front of Bree. “So even though you don’t like labels, and you say that you love Evan, you are admitting to me that only a girl can give you what you need?”

“I’m attracted to girls.”

“You’re not attracted to Evan?”

“I am. It’s hard to explain; I don’t understand it myself, really. He’s the only guy who’s ever made me blush by smiling at me. His voice makes me weak in the knees. Everything about Evan is an enigma to me, my body responds to him. It’s never happened with any other guy. But girls… So many girls affect me… you… affect me.”

It takes all the willpower that I have not to open my eyes and walk out of the room right now. I don’t want to hear this. I can’t hear this. It hurts way too much. I attempt to keep my breathing steady as I continue to listen to these forbidden words that were never meant for me to hear.

“I do?” I hear Adrienne’s words catch in her throat and I can tell that she’s surprised by the confession.

Bree doesn’t respond directly to the question, so I assume she nods because she continues on about me instead of replying. “He knows I love him, he just doesn’t think it’s enough.”

“What do you think? Is it enough?”

“Today it is.”

“And tomorrow?”

I feel the bed shift slightly, and after a few moments of silence, I open one eye just a sliver to see why Bree hasn’t responded. But the instant I see their mouths pressed against each other’s, my heart feels like it literally stops beating in my chest.

What the fuck are they trying to do to me? Why does the universe hate me this much? Is there something written on my forehead telling girls that I’m a complete idiot who they should destroy the first chance they get?

Their kiss seems to last forever. Both of their eyes are closed, and even though I notice them taking turns pushing their weight into one another, neither one of them actually pushes it any further than that. It’s visibly clear that they both want this first encounter to be soft, and explorative.

And… my dick is getting hard.

Yeah, because that’s exactly what I need, to get turned on by the worse thing that’s probably ever happened to me. I have to focus on something else, anything else.

A chair. A lamp. Walls...

War. Carnage…

Dead puppies.

Yep, dead puppies did it.

Finally their kiss ends and I watch them open their eyes once again. They keep their gaze on one another, letting all of their emotions linger between them. Adrienne smiles first and then Bree smiles back.

I can’t keep watching this. I close my eyes once again and attempt to continue my steady breathing so that I still appear to be sleeping. This is torture… pure torture.

“You really do taste like cherries,” I hear Bree say and I can imagine the beautiful smile on her face as she says it. I cringe.

Adrienne laughs. “I’ll keep in mind that you like it.”

“I’m not sure…”

“Shhhh,” Adrienne hushes her, “we don’t have to talk about it tonight. Let’s just enjoy it. It was perfect, let’s keep it perfect for now, ok?”

“Ok.”

“Feel like getting some sleep? I mean, we might as well, he’s already all tucked in.”

“Ok,” Bree replies again.

I feel Adrienne roll me over from my belly to my side. “Here, you can sleep between us, I don’t think he’ll want to be waking up next to me.”

Bree laughs, but I can hear the uneasiness in it. She’s uncertain about how I’d feel waking up next to her too, but she crawls into the bed beside me anyway. Naturally, Adrienne strips down to her underwear and crawls in beside Bree. She isn’t shy, that girl, she never was. She shuts the lamp beside the bed off, and I finally open my eyes completely. Bree’s body is pressed right against mine and all I can seem to think about is touching her. I want to wrap my arms around her and pull her close to my body, keeping her far away from Adrienne. I don’t want anyone else to have her. But instead, I keep my hands off of her body completely.

I watch Bree place her hand over top Adrienne’s resting palm. Slowly, Adrienne spreads her fingers apart and Bree intertwines hers between Adrienne’s. Once she does this, Adrienne curls her fingers downwards, locking Bree’s in between hers, and they both smile at each other.

In this moment, it’s obvious to me that being with a girl is completely natural for Bree. She’s comfortable with Adrienne, there’s no second-guessing, there’s no uncertainty. Seeing her hand intertwined with Adrienne’s like this makes it clear to me that I’ve made the right choice for her. This is Bree; this is her true self, her
free
self. She deserves that. As much as it kills me to see it, I know she deserves it.

I close my eyes once again, taking in a few deep breaths. Then, after a minute of trying not to think about the two beautiful girls holding hands in the same bed as me, I begin to drift off into the land of dreams where my heart isn’t broken, and I don’t feel like a complete idiot for going after a lesbian in the first place.

Skylar

Spencer and I reach the red brick building Isabelle described for us relatively quick. Her directions were pretty good, making it not very difficult to find the place at all. But she wasn’t lying when she said that the place would look abandoned. For anyone walking by, they would never think twice that anything might be going on here.

All the windows are boarded up, and the covered wooden porch on the front of the building is rotted black. There is yellow caution tape wrapped around the porch to keep people away from the deathtrap. The stairs alone could harm someone.

“You sure it’s the right place?” Spencer asks, uncertainly.

“It’s the right place. Come on.” I take the lead and cut through the narrow alleyway to the back of the building. Once we reach the solid black door, I knock on it four times like Isabelle instructed, and take a step back, waiting for a response. There isn’t any. After a moment, I step toward the door again but Spencer grabs my arm and pulls me back.

“She said four times, babygirl, not eight.”

He’s right. I stay where I am, biting my lip impatiently as I wait for someone to respond.

About a minute later, a small slot slides open near the top, revealing to us that the sturdy door is of the speakeasy variety.

“Password,” a small female voice demands as her hazel eyes peer out at us.

“Zeus,” we reply in unison, and she slides the speakeasy slot closed. After another minute of waiting, the door finally opens and we hurry inside.

“Welcome to
The Onyx
. Please name your house membership,” a man standing behind a very posh looking desk says without looking away from his computer screen. He’s wearing a business suit and his dark hair is slicked back. Everything about him looks important.

When neither of us answers him, he looks up from his screen and shoots us an annoyed look. “Judging from your attire, I have a pretty good idea which house.”

“
Misfit
,” Spencer says, seeming to catch on.

The man types something into the keyboard. “Alias?” he asks.

Spencer hesitates. He doesn’t want me to know. “
The Forsaken
,” he says eventually in a hush.

What? Did he say The Forsaken?

I’m shocked by the response. I’ve never known what Spencer’s persona was before this very moment and out of respect, I’ve never asked. But I’ve heard of
The Forsaken
and what he does. And what I know doesn’t match up with who I know Spencer to be.

He can’t be
The Forsaken
, it doesn’t make sense.

I look to Spencer with astonished eyes, but his guarded glance tells me that now isn’t the time to talk about it.

The man smiles a toothy grin and motions for someone off in the shadows to approach us. “He’s clear,” he says to the tall, bulky guy. He turns to me next. “House?”

“
Misfit
,” I reply quietly.

“Alias?”

“
The Goddess
,” I say, and his brow arches up as a smirk emerges on his face. He’s heard of me. I can’t say that I’m surprised, although I have to admit that I’m a bit embarrassed.