Long After (Sometimes Never) (12 page)

23

In Too Deep

Annie

“My mom likes you,” Loden says as he merges onto the highway. “The word ‘love’ may have been used, actually.” He looks sideways at me, grinning proudly. “She’s probably planning the wedding already.”

I arch a brow in surprise. I mean, we talked about this. Someday. Marriage, kids. All of it. But later. In the future. Like, way, way into the future. After school. After we’re established. So his little offhanded announcement has my stomach twisting with panic and my h
eart fluttering with…excitement.

Because he wants me. We’ve had so many ups and downs, I was beginning to worry. But this is…this is
great
news. Great, great news. My nerves are just a side effect of all the excitement.

“Hey,” Loden murmurs. He brushes the backs of his fingers across my cheek, capturing my full attention. “You look anxious.”

Anxious. A startled laugh bursts from my lips in a very unladylike manner and I close my mouth immediately, glancing quickly at him. His brow furrows, but he doesn’t call me on it.

“I’m not anxious,” I say softly, making sure my voice doesn’t quiver.

His hand slides down, entwining with mine. He sighs loudly. The sound fills the quiet car and my limbs stiffen in response. “She knows I want to pass the bar first. She’s just excited. You can relax.”

“I’m not anxious,” I repeat, this time more adamantly. Because it’s true now. Now that he confirmed it’s still a
while off. I almost laugh at myself. I don’t even have a ring yet. These are just future plans so we know we’re on the same path, heading in the same direction. I still have years.
Years
.

I smile over at him and he returns the gesture. “You had me scared there for a minute,” he says with a chuckle. “I wouldn’t want to start a new search.”

“A new search?”

He winks at me. “For the perfect girl.”

I don’t know what he was going for, but I have to turn away. I focus my attention out the window, counting the mile markers. It’s not that he would consider looking for someone else. It’s not even the way he admitted he was looking for the perfect girl to play wifey. It’s mostly the way I wished, for just a second, he
would
find someone new.

And that’s so messed up.

He can give me everything I want out of life. I can have it all with him. I repeat it in my head until I can look at him again.

“You tired?” he asks. His fingers are on my face again. Soft and smooth.

“A little,” I admit.

“Almost there. Am I dropping you at your dorm, or do you want to come back to my place for a
while?”

I understand what he’s asking me. We haven’t had sex yet.
We had broken up before that had ever happened and I’ve tried to keep the pace slow this time around as well. He’s been asking for several weeks now, getting tired of waiting on me. I have a rule about sex. I won’t give it away to just anybody. I made that mistake before. But Loden isn’t just anybody. If I’m in it, then I’m in it.

There is only so long I can hold him off with blowjobs and lame e
xcuses.

“Your place,” I decide.

He grins at me, happy with my answer. And it feels good. Good to make him happy. Good to know he wants me. Not just right now, but long term.

~*~

Loden’s new apartment is nice. He chose to live alone when he got back from summer break because he likes his privacy, which I can understand and relate to. It’s been so long since I’ve had my own space. I roomed with my little sister, then Hope, then I came to college and have had roommates ever since—dealing with someone else always there, or their mess even when they’re not.

I like neat. I like order.
I like privacy.

His da
d paid for this apartment. His mom furnished it. I’m not sure he’s earned anything he owns. I don’t hold it against him, but I can’t stop myself from thinking it either.

“Do you want to go to the bedroom?”
His eyes meet mine and I feel like he’s testing me or challenging me, maybe. That’s what we’re here for though, right?

“Lead the way.”

He pulls me behind him. I take a deep breath as he pushes the door open, revealing a large bed taking up most of the room.

Loden steps
up behind me as I move inside. His hands slide around my waist, gripping my hips as he draws me back against him. Quickly skimming my hair off my neck, he places his lips there, kissing his way down to my shoulder. He pulls the collar of my shirt, giving himself better access.

Sex is healthy. It’s done every day, by millions—billions of people. It’s natural. This is no big deal. The tightness in my chest is nothing to worry about. That urge to pull away can be attributed to my need to be in control.

This is fine.
I’m fine
. I want this. I want to give this to him.

I turn in his arms and find his mouth. Closing my eyes, I kiss him.
This will change everything. Make us more solid. Our future more secure.

I pull away long enough to remove my shirt, tugging it over my head. He watches me intently, desire evident in his eyes. It makes it easier to stand here. To not cover myself, hiding my inadequacies from his view.

He strips off his own shirt, throwing it onto the chair in the corner. And then he steps closer to me, chest to chest, and I know this is it.

“Are you on the pill?” he asks as his fingers trail along my spine, working their way toward my bra clasp.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Since I was sixteen.”

He unhooks my bra and I stiffen. I’m not sure if it’s his questions, or my insecurities, or just the fact that we’re really about to do this.

“I’m clean. I get tested every year, but we’ll use a condom until you can set up an appointment.”

He’s clean, but I must not be?

“Okay,” I whisper. He plucks the lacy material away from my body. I shiver, holding my breath. He continues onto my jeans, unbuttoning them. I help him slide them off before he slips out of his own pants. Then we’re lying back on his bed and he’s opening a condom.

I tell myself it’s because he can’t wait. The anticipation is too great. He wants me so badly he can’t wait another second.

But even my biggest sexual mistake took more time than this. Even in high school and even though all he wanted was an easy lay, he still took time for foreplay.

I shove the thoughts away as Loden positions himself over me. The urge is back, that need to pull back and run. But I don’t. I press my lips together and close my eyes. It hurts when he pushes into me. My body is too tense. I’m not turned on at all. There is no natural lubrication whatsoever.

He moans. I feel my eyes tear behind closed lids. I keep them sealed tight. It’s not dark enough to hide it and I can’t explain it. This just feels so wrong.

And I realize it’s because
, no matter what I’ve been telling myself, I don’t love Loden. Not even a little bit.

Maybe I
can learn to love him.

I repeat this to myself as I grip his shoulders and try to get into the moment. I will my muscles to unclench. I attempt a deep breath, but his weight is pressing down on me, making me feel constricted, smothered.

I bite the inside of my cheek and pray he finishes soon. I just want this over. Next time—next time will be better.

Eyes pinching tighter, I try to think of something—anything—to help pass the time. And, God, I know this is bad. I
know
it, but I feel trapped. Not just by his body on mine, but in my mind. In my decision. In this relationship.

I think of Chase and I don’t know why. I don’t know why I turn to him to help
me through this moment, but I do. I picture his face. His smile. His laugh. And that way the light catches his eyes, making them glow. And I think of how much I love it when that happens.

Loden moans again, long and loud. His body shudders and he goes limp on top of me. I run my hand over his sweaty back and wonder if he noticed my response to him—or lack of one. How could he not notice?

I wipe my eyes before he can see the tears that managed to escape. And then I wait for him to get off me. I just want him off. I just want to go home.

“That was incredible,” he rasps.

I watch him pull back and I wince as something catches along the way. It feels like it rips along my insides, but I hold my breath and ride it out. He discards the condom and heaves himself to lie down beside me. Thankfully he doesn’t touch me again. I don’t think I could handle it. Not yet.

I know I was a willing participant, but it
almost doesn’t feel that way.

I sit up and start getting dressed as quickly as I can without being obvious.

“You taking off?”

I clear my throat and nod. “Yeah. I need to study and unpack.”

“Okay,” he says. He sits up and presses his lips against my back. I freeze.

“Make an appointment,” he says.

I shift away, picking up my shirt. “Okay.”

“I want
to feel you without anything between us,” he continues.

I nod.

“Next time you don’t have to be so shy.”

Shy
. I nod again. “Sorry. I was just a little nervous.”

“You don’
t have to be nervous with me,” he replies as he pushes off the bed. He pulls his pants on and wraps his arms around me.

“I know.” I press a kiss into his cheek and pull away.

“I’ll call you later.”

“Okay,” I say as I head to the door, trying hard not to run.

24

Say You Like Me

Chase

I get back to school Sunday night. I spent the weekend hanging out with Heaven and it was fun. Easy. She’s awesome. Great sense of humor, superior taste in music, and when we went out to eat, she sat on her own side of the table. She’s a vegetarian, so she didn’t get a burger, but she ordered a shitload of fried appetizers and that just might be even better.

I like being around her. I spent a lot of ti
me laughing and that felt good as hell. And she’s hot, which is the best kind of perk. Finding a girl that’s attractive and funny—that’s my perfect combo.

It sucks she lives over an hour away, but we decided to see what happens. She’s coming down on Friday and I’m actually excited to introduce her to Guy. Now I need to figure out what to do about Kayla. We’re not serious—there was never a relationship established, but I know I need to make a clean break.

It’
s close to ten and I’m lying in bed listening to music when my cell vibrates on my chest. I pick it up and stare at the screen. Annie. I was going to call her because I wasn’t expecting her to call me. Not after how I left things…

“Hello?”

“Hi,” she says softly, followed by a quiet throat clearing. “I’m checking in.”

She sounds off. Something’s wrong. I don’t know if it’s me—because of the song—or if it’s something else entirely. I’m afraid to ask because I’m glad she’s talking to me. And I didn’t realize how much I missed her these past few days until I heard her voice.

“All right. How was your long weekend?”

She’s quiet. One beat. Two. “It was good. Yours?”

She’s lying. I know she’s lying. I can hear it in the pitch of her voice. I close my eyes, trying to decide what to say. My other line beeps and I glance quickly at the caller ID. Heaven. Damn. I don’t even think about answering it. I like Heaven, but Annie’s upset about something and she’s been my friend longer.

“You okay?” I ask.

She laughs darkly, but doesn’t answer and it’s all the confirmation I need. “My mom actually didn’t screw up the turkey this year. Did Guy tell you?”

“I haven’t seen him yet.” Annie obviously doesn’t want to talk about it, so I try to respect that. “I hope he brought
me back leftovers.”

She laughs. “You’ve been to my house how many times? You know how many people live there. There were no leftovers.”

“Damn,” I sigh. “I’m hungry, too.”

“Want to go to Manton’s?”

“With you? Now?” I ask, surprised.

“Sure. Why not?”

“Okay. I’ll come pick you up?”

“Give me five minutes.”

What the hell is going on?

~*~

I glance over at Annie, still trying to figure out why she’s in my car. Why we’re headed to Manton’s. Why she called me. This seems like more than honoring our agreement.

I checked her immediately when she got into my car, my eyes flicking over her quickly, looking for any bruises. I didn’t see anything, but I do a more thorough inspection once we sit down in a booth. She looks fine. Pretty. Maybe a little sad.

“How’s Loden?” I ask, probing. And there it is. Her shoulders stiffen, her eyes drop to the table top, and she bites down on her lip.

“He’s fine. Good. Um, I met his parents this weekend. They’re nice.”

“Mm. That’s good. He went home with you?”

“Uh, yeah. We did the whole meet-the-family thing.” She runs her finger over a groove in the table and my eyes trail the movement.

“How’d he handle that? Thanksgiving with the clan. Twins tear him apart?” The twins are the youngest. Dinner with four-year-olds still going through their terrible twos is kind of like venturing into Hell.

With a sigh, Annie shakes her head. “Can we not talk about him?”

I cock a brow. Oh, now I really want to talk about him. “He’s your boyfriend,” I say, raising my hands, palms out. “If he’s that boring of a subject then why you with him?”

Not even kidd
ing, she flinches. My thumb strums against my leg, tapping a beat out while I wait for her to answer me. The longer she sits there, quietly staring out the window, the more pissed I become.

“What did he do?” I demand. What the fuck did he do to her this time? I’m done playing games.

“Nothing,” she utters. “He didn’t do anything wrong. I just don’t feel like talking about him.”

Bullshit. Bull-motherfucking-shit. “Did he hurt you again?” I hiss. If he did it again…

“NO,” Annie says adamantly. “No. God, Chase. Calm down. He didn’t do anything. I swear.”

I stare at her, holding her gaze and trying to decide if she’s telling the truth. I can’t tell. “Why don’t you want to talk about
him? The romance fading?” That comes out shitty, so I try to soften my expression.

She leans her head back and closes her eyes. “I just want to hear about your weekend. Just talk to me.”

She doesn’t open her eyes, so I watch her for a moment. She’s so pretty, especially when she doesn’t try too hard. Like right now, with her hair loose, slightly damp from the shower, minimal make-up—she looks perfect.

“I met this girl,” I say. I don’t know why I tell her, but it just comes out. Annie’s eyes open and she blinks. “Met her waiting for the store to open for Black Friday. Her name’s Heaven.”

“Is that her street name?” Annie asks. She says it in this light tone, making it impossible to tell if she’s joking or being judgmental.

“That’s her real name,” I say.

“I bet it helps with tips, though.”

This time there is a distinct bite to her words. She pushes the hair off her shoulder and begins twisting her straw, stirring her drink. I laugh lowly. Is that
jealousy?
“She’s not a hooker or a stripper. She’s in school and she’s really nice.” I grin as I pick up my drink. “I think you’ll like her.”

“You’ve never been real good at that,” Annie clips out.

“Thinking?”

“Exactly.”

Oh, I missed this. I missed her rapid and flawless delivery of shitty retorts, the smartass mouth, and fiery attitude. How quickly she comes out to play at the mention of another girl. And now I’m wondering what tonight was really about.

Why is she acting like she’s
resentful when she has the ideal, does-no-wrong, shits-rainbows-and-sunshine kind of boyfriend. (I may be paraphrasing.) Why does she care who I meet, or who I talk to, or what Heaven’s name is?

“What happened to our truce?” I inquire casually.

“I haven’t called you an asshole,” she states. “Yet.” She narrows her blue eyes on me and smiles icily. “But there’s still plenty of time.”

Damn—jealous is sexy on Annie. She wears that shit well. I like this so much more than the quiet, melancholy girl from just minutes a
go. I like it a lot. And I know I shouldn’t find jealousy hot or even condone it, but I don’t feel bad about it. It doesn’t feel wrong. In fact, it feels really right.

“
Calm down there, sparky,” I say through a chuckle. “Heaven is very likable. And hot,” I add just to provoke her. Which it shouldn’t since there is the boyfriend.

“I’m perfectly calm,” Annie replies. “And I’m sure your prostitute girlfriend is attractive. Thanks for sharing.”

“She’s not my girlfriend,” I say seriously, wanting to make that clear. “We’re just taking it slow. Seeing if there’s anything there. I have no idea where it’ll lead.” Annie watches me silently, her eyes raking over me slowly as she weighs my words. I sit back and look at her evenly. “I’m keeping my options open. You never know if the right person will end up right in front of you.”

Her blonde brows rise and he
r cheeks ignite. “Do you think that exists? That there’s one right person meant for us?”

“I don’t know,” I say honestly. “But I think we all have that person we connect to on a higher level than with anybody else. That one person that
makes us feel safe. That feels like home. Ya know?”

Annie flicks her eyes away.
“No,” she says flatly.