Authors: Marquita Valentine
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Coming of Age, #Contemporary, #Military, #Multicultural, #New Adult & College, #Holidays, #Multicultural & Interracial, #Romance
“Because I love you,” I repeat, pulling out of her snug warmth. Though I hadn’t planned this out, her response is not what I’d thought it would be. “Or you could live with me.” I want the possibility out there. I still have to tell her about the move and about how recently I quit my other job. Dread fills me. I might lose her if I tell her the truth.
Maybe it would be better to wait. Maybe once I knew she loved me.
“But if you love me…” She smashes her lips together and looks away.
I grab her chin. “You can tell me. There’s nothing you can say that will send me running.”
“I don’t want to live together.”
Except that. Anger mixed with rejection surges, and I untangle myself from her sweet body and stand up. “Why the hell not?”
Brooklyn shrinks away from me, grabbing the quilt at the end of the bed and wraps herself up with it. “Because if I’m good enough to live with, then I should be good enough for more than that.”
I stare at her in disbelief. “You want a fucking marriage proposal?”
She shakes her head, but I can see the truth in her eyes. I run a hand over my face. “That’s a big commitment.”
“So is having sex,” she says quietly.
“It’s not the same.”
“For me it is. I’m sharing the most intimate parts of me with you—that was a big step for me to take.”
Shit. I know she’s right. I know that her experience isn’t like most people’s. “Is it some religious thing?”
She flinches. “What if it was? If you love me, then it shouldn’t matter.”
I throw her words back at her. “If you love me, then it shouldn’t matter to you either.”
Turing away from me, she lays her head on the pillow and becomes silent. But I can’t mistake the hurt that I saw in her eyes. I start to go to her, but my condom starts to slip. With a grunt, I stride to the bathroom and take care of business. This is so fucked up. I never should have admitted my feelings to her. I’ll just go back in there, get my shit, and leave.
She’s never said that she loves me, only that she cares, and even that was said in a offhanded way. Fuck it.
“I don’t need this.”
When I come back to the room, Brooklyn is still laying where I left her. I kneel on the floor at the edge of the bed. All it takes is one look at her face and my heart breaks. Tears run down her cheeks, silent tears that she wasn’t planning on letting me see or hear, because her fist is practically stuffed in her mouth.
“Don’t cry, sweetheart. Please. I wasn’t thinking. Okay? What I feel for you is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. I can’t explain it, I just knew it as soon as I met you, and I’m still trying to figure out the best way to deal with it.”
I shake my head. “Not deal with it. Do something about it, before it’s too late.” Damn it. I need to shut up. There’s no need to tell her I’m leaving at the end of the summer—at least not right now.
Instead, I take her in my arms, and at first, her body’s tense as hell…until she realizes that all I’m going to do is hold her. Stroke her hair and tell her about my day. About the times I got in trouble with Cole—too many to count.
I don’t stop talking, even as I share things about my life that I’ve never told anyone, not even West.
“One of my mother’s boyfriends beat me with the buckle of his belt for spilling his beer…until Cole got a hold of him and broke his wrist. I still have the scar from that particular beating. It’s why I have a tattoo on the left side of my back.”
Her small hands tentatively touch me there and caress the spot.
“Growing up, Cole and I never had a real home, never had a place to call our own. We were either shipped off to our uncle’s house, slept in a car, or moved at the last minute because Crystal didn’t have the money for rent. Things really didn’t change for us until after Kelly was born, but in other ways, things got worse.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I didn’t know.”
“Why should you?” I press a kiss to her forehead. “It’s not your fault, and I wouldn’t wish that life on anyone.”
Rain pours down on the roof now, lulling us to a semi-drowsy state. I stroke her head, the pretty brown curls that smell so good fele like silk. I shift slightly, and Brooklyn makes a little noise of protest.
“Don’t go,” she says.
“I’m not.” I tighten my arms around her and close my eyes, ignoring my needs and wants to comfort her instead.
Sometime during the night, I wake up to Brooklyn moving restlessly against me. I cup her, finding her wet and hot. She parts her legs in invitation, and I roll her onto her back, entering her in one hard thrust.
There’s nothing frantic in our pace, no hurry to get to the orgasm at the end. I make love to her slowly, gently… holding myself back to prolong her pleasure. She squeezes me so tight that my eyes water. I capture her mouth with mine, our tongues tangling together like our bodies.
I know I’ll never find someone as perfect and precious to me as Brooklyn. I know I’ll never find someone so forgiving and understanding, and I don’t plan to search the world to prove myself wrong.
The woman in my arms is more than enough for me.
She gasps, her body convulsing around me as the start of her orgasm hits her. I reach between us, rub her clit, and make her moan.
“
Parker
.” The sweetest sound. How could I ever contemplate running from her, from this… from what we have? When I’m with her, I have no past. There were no other women. I wasn’t a whore.
She makes me feel like a man. She makes me feel wanted and needed.
I quicken my thrusts, and throw both of her legs over my shoulders. Her back arches, sending her tits into my face. I kiss the tips and tongue them, making her shudder against me.
Jesus. I have to pull out of her.
“Brooklyn, are you,” I begin, but my orgasm hit me and I surge inside of her, coming so hard that I see stars. Somehow, I pull out of her midstroke and finish on the sheet under us.
Her small hand runs down my chest and back up again, but she’s silent. Too silent, and I start to panic.
“You don’t have to move in with me. I’ll do whatever you want. We have time. Hell, I’m taking you out on a proper double date this Thursday with West and McKenzie. You’ll—”
Before I can say finish, Brooklyn is kissing me. I roll over, bringing her to straddle me. This time she’s frantic. Her hands are everywhere, nails scraping at my skin. I grab her wrist when she starts to get too rough.
“Stop it. I don’t know what you’re doing, but stop.”
She looks at me, hair hanging over half her face. “I don’t know what I’m doing either. I…I need time.”
Though I’m panicking inside, I keep my voice calm. Steady. “Whatever you want.”
She lays down on top of me, and I hold her until we both fall asleep again.
“Some of it,” I admit. “But my reaction to your offer—you won’t like the explanation.”
“Try me.” He sits down in the chair beside me, instead of across from me, and I wish he hadn’t. I need some distance right now.
“When Braden and I first met, we had a whirlwind courtship.”
He frowns and eats a bite of eggs. “I’m listening.”
Wringing my hands, I try to gather my thoughts. “Everything was fast with Braden. The pursuit, the dates, the proposal…
everything
. It was like he couldn’t wait for the final result. He had to have it now—me, the house… Gunnery Sergeant designation. Don’t get me wrong, he was diligent, not reckless. Sometimes, you remind me of him.”
Parker’s brows crash together. “And he had more respect for you than I do—in your eyes at least.”
My stomach twists up into knots. “I’m not saying that.”
“Then what are you saying, because all I hear is how fucking good he was compared to me.” Parker mutters a curse and slams his fist on the table, making the plates and me jump. “Damn it. I swore I wouldn’t be jealous of a dead man, because I’m here, and he’s not. I’m the one making you cry out in pleasure, and he’s not. I’m the one who’s in your bed, in your body, and in your fucking life while he’s not. Yet,
he’s
still the one that has your entire heart. There’s nothing left for me, not even a slice. Every time we get close you push me away. Every fucking time.”
“Don’t say that.”
He jumps up from the table. “It’s true, isn’t it? You can’t get past your love for someone who isn’t even here, to see the man standing before you. You’re so damn worried about your in-laws coming that we couldn’t even fuck without fighting.”
“Stop saying that word,” I say tightly.
“Why? It’s what we do. You don’t love me, don’t want to move in with me, so I’m nothing but a fuck. A damn good fuck, but that’s it.”
“We’re not fucking,” I shout, and I fling my plate against the wall. Eggs and toast slide down the wall. “I’m scared, because I love you just as much as I loved Braden. And now I have to deal with his mother and father coming to my house to talk about him, about us, and all the good times we had. I have to relive his death, his life, and the life I can’t have anymore. A life that I’m trying to put behind me so I can move forward, but it’s hard and I’ve never tried before you.”
Parker looks at me in surprise, then hands me his plate. “Here.”
“You want me to do dishes?”
“No, baby. I want you to throw the damn thing at the wall.”
I look at him, and then at the plate. With a scream, I hurl it at the wall and it shatters. “I
hate
him for leaving me. And I hate
me
for hating him so much.”
“Again, sweetheart. Get it all out,” he says encouragingly and steps behind me. “Hit the motherfucking wall with every last dish.”
With a deep breath, I allow all the insecurities and feelings that I let stay hidden for so long come out. I grab a glass, hurling it, as tears stream down my eyes, and my stomach starts to ache. It hits the wall with a satisfying noise. “I hate how much I’ve missed out on. I hate that I’m such a miserable human being that I can’t even accept the love and help you and Rowan want to give me.”
My legs give out, and I plop down in the chair. My entire body is racked with sobs I can’t stop. “I hate him. I hate me more.”
Parker lifts me and carries me into the living room. “Don’t you dare look around this room.”
“It’s a memorial,” I sniff.
“Braden wouldn’t have wanted you to live like this,” he says. “A stand up guy like him would have wanted you to be happy, to live life, and find a man worthy of you.”
I fist his shirt. “What do I tell his parents when they come tomorrow?”
“What do you want to tell them?”
“That I can’t rehash his death every month, in person or over the phone.”
“I know you don’t want to miss work, but I think you need to take today off to get ready for tomorrow,” he says, and I look at him through watery eyes.
“I don’t want to take down my Christmas tree. I love it.”
“Not the tree. I think it might be time to give Braden’s parents his stuff.”
Brooklyn nods. “What if his parents don’t want it?” Her eyes fly to mine. “Yes, I have someone who can help me.”
Smiling, I go back to scrubbing the kitchen wall. She did a number on it with the jelly from my plate. Funny thing, I kind of understand my mom a little bit more by watching Brooklyn. Crystal would yell, scream, and throw shit all the time because she was so frustrated and helpless, but she never put a hand on us. In fact, she went overboard with loving on Kelly and me while ignoring Cole. Something that I still don’t understand, but maybe we’ll get answers once we’re out there visiting her and my
dad
.
“Mom and dad are in Kentucky—renaissance fair. No, they can’t make it. I don’t know when I’ll see them.”
I hear Brooklyn sigh. “That’s not fair. You know it was their dream to travel the country.”
Her parents are travelling the country instead of helping her? What kind of parents—oh, right, mine would. Then again, Brooklyn barely speaks of her parents, but I assumed she had a normal childhood. Hell, anything that differed from mine was normal.
“I know. Right. Yes. I won’t. Love you, too.”
Out of the corner of my eye I watch Brooklyn rub the heel of her hand against her head. Her pretty eyes are hidden from me, as is most of her face. I stop scrubbing the wall and rinse off my hands before walking to her and taking her in my arms.
“What did Soon Lin say?”
“That you’re right.”
I rub my chin on top of her head. “I didn’t want to be right.”
“I know,” she says quietly. “Soon Lin said you could do it
for
me, but I don’t want you to.”
My heart sinks. Jesus. When will someone tell this girl that it’s okay to move on? Someone besides me, that is?
“I want you to
help
me, Parker.” She leans back in my arms and gazes up at me. There are pale purple shadows under her eyes, making her look fragile as hell, not too mention exhausted.
“I’ll help you however you want, Sunshine.”
Her cute nose crinkles. “Sunshine?”
“Trying it out. Don’t like it?”
She giggles. “Not really. I had a yellow lab named Sunshine, so it would be really weird for you call me that when we’re…
together
.”
I make a face. “Can see why you wouldn’t like that. Back to the drawing board.”
“I could make you a list,” she teases.
There’s nothing I’d like more than to continue this playful flirting, but I know that she’s partly doing it to stall for time. “You could, or we could get to work. It’s after two. What time will your in-laws be here tomorrow?”
“Right after lunch. They want to take me to dinner tomorrow night, too.”
Which meant she would have to spend at least six hours talking about Braden. I have to think of a way to save her from that. Letting go of her, I grab one of the boxes she’d saved from moving, and hold it out.
“Do you want me to do the honors or…?”
She visibly swallows, her face paling. “I can do it.” Slowly, she looks around the room, like she’s trying to memorize. Then she moves to the table by the sofa, the one I’d bumped into and made Braden’s picture fall to the floor. Taking it by the frame, she tilts her head to one side and just gazes at it for the longest time. “Thank you for loving me,” she says. A tear rolls down her cheek, followed by a second one.
Then she kisses his picture and puts it in the box, facedown.
Damn, if I don’t feel like crying myself.