by Ella Fields
Thomas had walked me home, but he didn’t kiss me, didn’t so much as touch me, and left with a stilted, “Until next time, Little Dove,” hanging in the humid air between us.
I’d watched him walk down the street and stood there as people bustled by long after he’d vanished around the corner.
“Hi.” My greeting was cautious when I opened the door to find a strung-out looking Miles.
His hair was messier than usual as though he couldn’t keep his hands out of it, and his eyes were rimmed in red as though he hadn’t slept in days. His shirt was wrinkled, and it was one he often only wore around the house. Never in public.
“Babe,” he rasped, collecting me to his chest in two quick strides.
Lost in the smell of him, the sunshine and sweat that lingered on his skin, it took me too long to step out of his embrace. When I did, he scowled and reached for me again.
“What do you want?”
“That’s obvious, isn’t it?” he snapped, then shook his head. “Sorry. You, I need you. This is driving me crazy.”
“Miles—” I started, but he cut in.
“No, don’t say it. Don’t say any of whatever it is you’re thinking. Just …” He drew in a loud breath, his huge body shaking as he set it free. “Come home. I’ve given you space, and you’re on summer break now. You can come home. We don’t need to talk, touch, or any of that shit. I just want you near me.”
The sound of footsteps in the stairwell had him spinning around and bracing.
My peripheral snagged on Thomas, who’d paused at the top of the stairs, assessing Miles as if he’d arrived at the zoo and had never seen such a creature up close before.
Oxygen vanished. My throat constricted. And still, the two males stared.
“Hey,” I called to Thomas.
Finally, he removed his gaze from Miles and skirted around him as though the predatory menace radiating off Miles was of little concern.
I forgot Miles. His anger. His betrayal. His eyes on us. Thomas swallowed up the space without even trying, and all I saw was the blue of his eyes as he stopped right in front of me, the tips of his black boots kissing my bare toes.
“You forgot this.” He handed me my phone, then bowed his head. Heat escaped his mouth and met the skin of my collarbone as he exhaled out, “Don’t let him touch it again.”
The words were whispered so low, it took me a few seconds to make out what he’d said, and then he was gone. His footsteps echoed up the stairwell, followed by the sound of the door below booming closed.
Staring at the empty stairs, I wondered if he was talking about my phone or me.
Then I remembered Miles, who seemed ready to chase and kill. But when he looked at me, it disappeared, and he looked like he wanted to puke as fear rounded his eyes, and they fell on my phone.
After a beat, he cleared his throat. “The guy from your school? The, uh, that dad?”
My head moved, nodding once.
He nodded too, eyes still on my phone. “I’ve gotta go, but I’ll be back.”
He raced down the stairs, taking them two at a time by the sound of the thudding.
Then I was left on my own, reeling, barefoot, and more confused than I’d ever been in my life.
The next day, I left the bakery to the feeling of eyes on me, and when I glanced over my shoulder, I swore I saw a flash of Miles’s red gym shirt and his unruly hair.
I’d planned to go home for the summer, but something kept me here, so I stayed.
But as the first week of break rolled into the second, the second about to meet the third, I gave up hope I’d hear from Thomas, and Miles’s behavior was starting to rattle me. He never came back to my apartment, but he’d decided it was okay to follow me?
In the drugstore with a box of tampons in hand, it might’ve been my hormones, but I’d decided I’d had enough. The box slipped from my fingers as I ran outside and went back the way I saw him. Some minutes later, I found him half standing in an alleyway.
“You’re following me, aren’t you?”
He tried to look like he was relaxing against the wall, typing on his phone as though he usually hung out in alleys. “Hmmm?”
“Cut the shit, Miles.”
“Okay, maybe I am.” He straightened.
I nearly growled. “Why?”
“Because … shit, Jem.” He groaned. “I can’t explain it all right now, but you need to come home.”
I rolled my eyes, about to storm back to the drugstore. I needed the freaking tampons, dammit. And a butt load of chocolate.
“Jem-Jem,” he said, his hand grabbing mine before I could storm off. “Have you seen that guy again?”
“His name is Thomas, and no.” I sighed, my blistering frustration falling away at his soft touch. “I haven’t.” Which bugged me more than I’d like to admit. Especially to my ex-fiancé.
“You can’t trust him.”
“Oh, like I can trust you?”
His eyes flashed with warning. “I’m serious. You need to stay away from him. I’ll explain why when I can.”
“This is getting ridiculous, Miles.” The heated wind knocked hair into my face as I turned to go.
“Yeah? Then why are you still here in the city and not at home with your dad? Huh?”
A hollow sounding laugh left me, and I shoved my hair out of my face. “What? Did you think I’ve been hanging around, waiting on you to grovel harder?”
“Fuck, your smart mouth makes me want to bend you over and fuck you senseless.”
“Well, you’ve blown any chance of that happening again, haven’t you?” Tears gathered, and I exhaled, trying to gain control of my whacked-out heart.
He saw them. “Hey, hey. I’m sorry. Are you okay?” Miles asked, crowding me against the brick wall.
“Just fine.”
He smirked, and I wanted to punch him. “You know I love it when you lie to me.” The humor dropped. “Really, though. Talk to me.”
I wouldn’t and couldn’t do that. “I’ve got my period. I’m tired and grumpy.”
His nose crinkled, but to his credit, he didn’t shy away. He leaned in, arms caging and lips brushing dangerously close to mine. The scent of cherry gum smacked into all my senses, and my stomach roiled.
Did he chew that same gum before he’d slept with that other woman?
The smoothness of his bottom lip hit mine, and my eyes squeezed shut, my body dissolving into the hard bricks behind me as I let him pry my mouth open.
Stubborn claws tore at my psyche. The need for a different flavor took hold and made my hands push at his chest before I kissed him back. “Enough. I’ll drop the ring off before I head home.”
While he stood there stunned, I ducked out of his hold and stormed back down the street.
It was time to go home.
“So, this weird guy, Tommy, you’re considering shacking up with him?”
I balked at the word shacking up, my feet pausing on the scuffed floor. “Firstly, his name is Thomas.” Though he must have a nickname, surely. “And secondly, I’m not shacking up with him.”
Hope snorted. “Sure you’re not. What are you doing then? Because I know I’d want revenge on Miles’s cheating ass too. There’s no shame in your hating game, sister.”
I huffed out an incredulous laugh. “God, stop it. Really, it’s not like that.”
“Hayden! Get that out of your nose right now.” A pause, then, “Because otherwise it’ll get stuck in your brain, and they’ll need to cut your head open to get it out.” Hope sighed, and I bit my lips, more laughter bubbling in my throat. “Great, now he’s crying.”
“Of course, he is. You scared the shit out of him.”
“Dad said it to you when you were four, and you turned out just fine.” She stopped and laughed. “I guess.”
I tore off a chunk of my peanut butter sandwich, chewing. “Shut up.”
“Anyway, what’s this guy want with you if he doesn’t want between your legs? If he knows about Miles, then he knows there
could be a bit of a wait time.”
I choked, belting my chest as I wheezed, “Jesus fucking Christ, Hope.” Scrambling for the fridge, I broke my own rule and drained the last of the milk from the carton, trying to push the bread down. “Okay, I’m alive.”
“Dramatic much?”
“I can’t even with you.”
“You love me, and I gotta go. Hayden’s still crying about his brain.”
Smirking, I tossed the milk carton into the recycling. “He’s probably going to have nightmares, you know.”
“Nah,” she said. “I’ve said worse, and he’s slept fine. Keep me posted on the weird dude and Miles. As much as I wanna kick him in the ass, I love hearing a good grovel just as much as the next girl.” She sighed. “Your life, Jem. Seriously. Wanna trade for a day?”
Laughing again, I hung up.
As soon as I walked away from my phone, it started ringing again.
With laughter still coating my voice, I answered with, “Oh, I forgot to tell you, I already kneed him in the balls.”
Silence.
“Hello?” I looked at the screen, realizing it was an unknown number and not my sister calling me back to say she’d forgotten something as she sometimes did.
Shit.
“Jemima.” A quiet question layered around my name.
“Sorry, I thought you were my sister.”
Thomas coughed a little. “Who did you knee in the, ah …?”
“Balls,” I supplied, feeling the counter bite into my back as I leaned into it too heavily. “And Miles, of course.”
“Of course,” he echoed. “And when was this?”
“When he told me he’d cheated on me, then said I’d have to wait for him to be able to explain everything.” I peeked at my chipped nail polish. “Which makes total sense.”
Silence arrived again, and I was about to ask him why he’d called, especially after he’d said not to call him. Though I suppose that was before we’d kissed and had tea.
He spoke first. “As much as I’d love to listen to such gory tales of your ex, I need you to meet me somewhere.”
“Sounds ominous,” I joked.
It went right over his head. “It’s a park.”
“I was joking.”
“Oh.”
He told me where and what time, then promptly ended the call.
Feeling a sense of whiplash, I stared at my phone for a solid minute. Then I finished my sandwich and fixed my hair.
Lou Lou wrapped her arms around my legs as though she hadn’t seen me in years instead of a few weeks. I squeezed her back, loving the fresh scent of cinnamon on her hair, then watched her run to a seesaw where another boy sat waiting. His mother sat on the other side of the park, reading a book.
I took a seat beside Thomas on the small bench, and he eyed the tiny gap I left between us.
“What do you do in the summer? With work and Lou Lou?”
His eyes were on my legs as I crossed them, his hands fidgeting in his lap a moment before he stilled them and turned his stare to his daughter. “I manage just fine. She knows when I’m busy, I’m busy.”
“Well, if you need any help, I’m happy to take her a few days a week.” I tucked some hair behind my ear. “I’m heading to my dad’s for a little while, but Glenning isn’t that far from here.”
“I know.”
Feeling kind of stupid, I shook my head. “Okay.”
I was about to ask him which part of the city he lived in, realizing he’d never said over tea. Come to think of it, he’d mainly just talked about Lou Lou and listened to me prattle on about growing up in Glenning.
He spoke before I had the chance. “I have an assistant, but thank you for the offer.”
Something about his tone had me surveying him again. Closer this time. He was stiff, stiffer than usual, and his demeanor cold. “What’s wrong?”
He didn’t answer, barely even seemed to breathe.
I prompted again. “Thomas?”
“I don’t like it, okay?” he finally snapped but did so in a quiet, controlled way compared to most. His chest rose and fell faster and faster the longer he stared at me, his eyes wild and glowing.
“What?” I asked as softly as possible.
“That you were with him.”
“Oh.” I frowned. “Hang on … how did you know?”
“That’s irrelevant.” He made a disgusted sound. “I hate it. After what he did to you. Not when he’s—”
His mouth shut when I laid my hand over his. “We haven’t been together, together.” My cheeks reddened. “Not like that. Not since I found out about the other woman.”
“Other woman,” Thomas repeated with a slip of an irritated smile.
There was no way to stop my heart from wincing at the reminder, and Thomas noticed, his hand folding over mine, fingers like velvet as they stroked. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
I waved at Lou Lou when she looked over, and she smiled as she turned to run into a tunnel.
“I needed to see you because”—he paused, groaning—“I don’t know how to say it …”
“You were upset?” I offered.
His phone chirped, and he pulled it out, inspecting it with a sigh. “I’m afraid it’ll have to wait. I need to go.” Putting his phone away, he turned to me, erasing the gap between our bodies. “But first, I have to do this again.” He leaned in, lips capturing mine as his hands gently grasped my face.
I slid even closer, losing sight of our surroundings and only seeing him, smelling him, tasting him, and feeling him. He kept it chaste, even as my tongue pushed at the seam of his smooth lips, even as he made a quiet groaning sound when he inhaled, my top lip pressing between both of his.
One of the kids on the playground squealed, then laughter followed.
He tore away and practically fell from the bench with how quick he moved. Righting himself, he mumbled, “Just … be careful, Little Dove.”
I was slow to take in his actions, his words, and my next breath as he traipsed over the grass and collected Lou Lou, who waved at me as he marched her to his car.
I stood as he helped her in but otherwise couldn’t move. I didn’t know whether to smile from the vibrations his mouth had left in its wake or wonder what the hell I’d done that had him running away like a boy who’d just stolen a kiss on the playground at school.
We’d done it before, after all.
A mixture of both settled while I watched his car speed off down the busy side street.
A blackbird cawed high above the street, hidden by the glow of the fading sun.
My duffel weighed a ton, so I left it for last and took my other two overnight bags down to my car. I unlocked it and shoved them into the trunk, my stomach flipping as I spun around and saw Thomas standing outside the drugstore next to the same door that led to my apartment.
His plain white shirt billowed in the breeze, then pressed against his lean chest as he straightened the leg he’d bent, his boot joining the other one on the asphalt.
Smiling away the shock that’d frozen my heart, I shut the trunk and walked over to him.
“You’re going home now?”
“Yeah, just have another bag to grab, then I’m off.”
His tongue poked the side of his cheek, his perfect combed back hair shifting as he ran a hand over it. Idly, I wondered how deep my fingers would sink if they were to touch it, to burrow down. How long it’d take for my nails to scrape his scalp.
Jesus, I needed a glass of water or something.
For as much as I’d floated along the unpredictable river that was Thomas Verrone, I’d never actually fantasized about him that hard. Until now.
“I’m sorry I ran off yesterday.” The words carried no sincerity, but I allowed them to mollify the kernel of worry that sat deep.
“That’s okay.” I slipped my hands into my jean short pockets, shrugging. “I guess you had places to be?”
“Unexpected work.” His eyes finally met min
e. “That, and you simply unnerve me, Little Dove.”
I swallowed my shaky breath, my chest rattling as I basked in the honest words aided by the serious set to his sharp jaw and hard eyes.
“The feeling’s mutual,” I said, not sure if he’d even heard the soft words as the noise of the city street drowned out most things, including my stampeding heartbeat. “But I, um …” I hesitated, worried that he’d take what I was about to say the wrong way but knowing I had to let him know. If he didn’t already. “Well, it’s been a crazy month. I need some time, patience, but I’d like to maybe …” I stopped talking when a woman stepped outside the drugstore, huge glasses on and familiar red hair.
Thomas unstuck his eyes from me and looked over.
Amelia glanced at us, then dug around in her purse for something.
When Thomas still didn’t look at me, I followed his gaze to where she’d stopped, talking on the phone a little farther down the street.
Thomas smirked at her, making her bristle.
“You know her?” I asked.
“Oh, she wishes I didn’t.” Thomas took a step forward, his hand settling over my hip. “Listen, I was supposed to arrange this with you yesterday.” My thoughts gathered and dissipated, too distracted by his touch. It was the first time he’d held me, even if it was a loose hold, and he did so to bend down and whisper, “Meet me tonight, eight o’clock. There’s a small bridge in Glenning that runs over the creek.”
“I know the one.” My eyes shot to his.
Seeing the questions in them, he rushed to say, “Not for that. I heard what you said, even if I already knew.” A sigh left him. “But still, we have much to talk about.”
His scent rolled into my nostrils as he leaned in, his lips gliding over my cheek. I listened to the sound of his drawn-out inhale, felt the way shivers wracked down my spine, and watched as he stepped away and walked by the drugstore where Amelia had been standing moments ago.
The time on the dash read 7:15.
Thomas’s words had nestled deep inside my brain, unwilling to budge, not after he’d said we had much to talk about. Reasons as to why we had to meet in such a place, at that time, flitted through my mind, then left without a trace as I cast them all aside as ridiculous.