Beautiful Oblivion

by Jamie McGuire

  "You got cigarettes?" he asked. I handed him my pack and he pulled out two. He lit them both, and then handed one to me.

  I took a drag and blew it out, watching him do the same. The tension was thicker than the smoke swirling between us. Tiny bits of ice began tapping at the windows and the metal frame of the Smurf, then the sky opened up and the sound of ice tapping against the car intensified.

  "You're right. I did go home with girls," Trenton said, raising his voice over the noise of the sleet. "More than just the ones you saw at the Red."

  "You don't have to tell me."

  "I needed to get my mind off of you." When I didn't respond, he turned to me. "I would let a girl rescue me from that torture every night of the week, but even when I was with someone else, all I thought about was you."

  "That's not really . . . a compliment," I said.

  Trenton hit the steering wheel with the heel of his hand, and then blew out another puff of smoke. "I'm not trying to compliment you! I thought I was going to go out of my damn mind thinking about you being in California. I swore to myself that I wouldn't call you, and when you got back, I was going to accept your choice. But you drove to my house. You're here. I don't know what to do with that."

  "I just didn't want to miss you anymore," I said, not knowing what else to say. "It's so selfish, I know. I shouldn't be here." I breathed out all the air from my lungs and sank back into the ratty passenger seat as far as I could. Being that truthful made me feel so vulnerable. It was the first time I'd even admitted it to myself.

  "What the fuck does that mean?"

  "I don't know!" I yelled. "Have you ever wanted something that you knew you shouldn't have? That it was wrong on every level, but you knew you needed it? I liked where we were, Trent! And then you . . . we can't get that back."

  "C'mon, Cami. I couldn't keep going like that."

  "I know that it wasn't fair to you. To no one else but me, really. But I still miss it, because it was preferable to the alternatives: to be with you under false pretenses, or to lose you altogether," I said, wiping my nose. I opened the door, put my cigarette out on the runner, and then tossed the butt on the floorboard. "I'm sorry. This was such a shitty thing to do. I'll go." I began to step out, but Trenton grabbed my arm.

  "Cami, stop. You're not making any sense. You came here. Now you're leaving. If there wasn't . . . the thing, whatever it is . . . what would you do?"

  I laughed once, but it sounded more like a cry. "I walked away from you in the airport. And then I spent the next two days wishing I'd stayed."

  A spark of happiness lit his eyes. "Then let's--"

  "But there is more to it than that, Trenton. I wish I could tell you so it's out there, but I can't."

  "You don't have to tell me. If you need me to say that I'm okay with whatever I don't know, I'm okay with it. I don't give a single fuck," he said, shaking his head.

  "You can't say that. You wouldn't if you knew . . ."

  "I know there's something you want to tell me but can't. If it comes out later, no matter what it is, I made the choice to move forward without knowing. That's on me."

  "For anything else, that would be enough."

  Trenton flicked his cigarette out the window. "That makes zero fucking sense. None."

  "I know. I'm sorry," I said, fighting back tears.

  Trenton rubbed his face, beyond frustrated. "What do you want from me? I keep telling you I don't care about this secret. I'm telling you I want you. I don't know what else to say to convince you."

  "You need to be the one to walk away. Tell me to fuck off, and end it. I'll quit Skin Deep, you find a different bar. I can't . . . you have to be the one."

  He shook his head. "I am the one, Cami. I'm it for you. I know because you're it for me."

  "You're not helping."

  "Good!"

  I watched him, begging him with my eyes. It was such a strange feeling, hoping for someone to break my heart. When I realized he was going to be just as stubborn as I was being weak, a switch inside of me flipped. "Okay, then. I'll do it. I have to. It's better than you hating me later. It's better than letting you do something I know is wrong."

  "I'm so tired of this cryptic shit. You know what I think about right and wrong?" he asked, but before I could answer, he grabbed each side of my face and planted his lips on mine.

  I immediately opened my mouth, letting his tongue slip inside. He grabbed at my skin, touching me everywhere, as if he couldn't get enough of me, and then he reached across me for the seat lever. The seat leaned backward slowly, and at the same time, Trenton climbed over the console in one smooth movement. Keeping his mouth on mine, he grabbed each of my knees and hiked them up to his ribs. I planted my feet on the dashboard, and lifted my hips up to meet his. He groaned into my mouth. His shorts didn't conceal his excitement, and he pressed the hardness against the exact spot where I already wished he was.

  His hips moved and rolled against mine as he kissed and nipped my neck with his teeth. My panties were instantly soaked, and just as I slid my fingers between his shorts and his skin, his kisses slowed, and then stopped.

  We were both breathing hard, staring into one another's eyes. Every window of the Jeep was fogged over.

  "What?" I asked.

  He shook his head, looked down, and then laughed once before raising his eyes to meet mine. "I'm going to hate myself later, but I'm not doing this in a car, and definitely not in fuzzy slippers."

  "Take them off," I said, planting a dozen tiny kisses on his neck and shoulder.

  He half hummed, half sighed. "I'd be just as bad as every other dick who doesn't treat you the way you deserve." He leaned away from my lips, giving me one more sweet peck. "I'm going to go warm up the Intrepid."

  "Why?"

  "I don't want you driving home in this shit, and the Intrepid has front-wheel drive. Handles better. I'll drop off your Jeep before you wake up in the morning." He pulled the door handle and jumped out, running into the house for a few minutes, and then reappearing, this time with sneakers, a hoodie, and keys in his hand. He started the Intrepid, and then ran back to the Smurf, hopping in and rubbing his hands. "Shit!"

  "It's freezing," I said, nodding.

  "That's not it." He looked at me. "I don't want you to leave."

  I smiled, and he reached over, running his thumb along my lips. After a few moments, we reluctantly got out of the Smurf and climbed into his car.

  As happy as I thought I was lying in T.J.'s bed a few weeks before, sitting next to Trenton in his dilapidated Intrepid while he drove me home was so much better. His hand was on my knee, and he wore the utmost satisfied smile all the way to my apartment.

  "You sure you don't want to come in?" I asked when he parked.

  "No," he said, but he clearly wasn't happy with his answer. He leaned over and kissed me with the softest lips, slow at first, and then we both began to tug at each other's clothes again. Trenton's shorts were standing at full attention, and his fingers tugged gently at my hair, but eventually he pulled away. "Damn it," he said, breathless. "I'm going to take you on a proper date first if it kills me."

  I let my head fall back against the headrest, and I looked up, frustrated. "Nice. You can take a random girl home from the Red forty-five minutes after you meet her, and I get shut down."

  "This isn't you getting shut down, baby. Not even close."

  I looked over at him, and my brows pulled in. I wanted to pretend that everything would be okay, and I could forget what I knew, but I had to warn him one last time. "I don't know what this is. But I know if you knew the whole story, Trenton, you would walk away from me and never look back."

  He leaned his head against his headrest, and then held his palm against my cheek. "I don't want the whole story. I just want you."

  I shook my head, tears threatening to well in my eyes for the third time that day. "No. You deserve to know. Certain things in our lives are so fragile . . . and you and me, Trent? We could ruin it all."

&nb
sp; He shook his head. "Listen to what I'm saying, Cami. If it keeps me from being with you, I know what it is."

  I looked over at him, my heart slamming against my chest, louder than even the sleet hitting the windshield or the Intrepid's rumbling muffler.

  "Oh, yeah? What is it?"

  "It's in the way." He leaned over to me, and touched my cheek with his hand the same time that his lips touched mine.

  "Just remember later that I'm sorry for whatever happens after this, and I'm sorry that when you walked away like I asked, I didn't let you go," I said.

  "I'm not, and I never will be." The skin around his eyes tightened as he stared straight into mine. He truly believed in what he was saying, and it made me want to believe it, too.

  I ran into my apartment, shut the door, and leaned against it until I heard the Intrepid pull away. It was irresponsible and selfish, but part of me wanted to believe Trenton when he said that what he didn't know wouldn't matter.

  *

  Just before the sun rose, and before my eyes opened, I felt something warm running along the length of my body. I moved just a centimeter toward whatever it was, just to make sure my mind wasn't playing tricks on me.

  I blinked a few times, and then focused, seeing a shadowed figure lying next to me. The clock on my nightstand read 6:00 AM. The apartment was dark and quiet, the same as it always was at that time of the morning. But the second the memories from earlier that morning crept into my mind, everything felt different.

  Oh, God. What had I done? A boundary had been crossed, and there was no going back or going forward without real consequences. I thought from the moment Trenton had sat at my table at the Red that I could handle whatever he threw my way, but he was like quicksand. The more I struggled, the deeper I sank.

  I was right on the edge of the bed, and tried to inch over without success.

  "Why are you in my bed, Ray?" I asked.

  "Huh?" Trenton said, his voice deep and raspy.

  A jolt ran through my body, and I squealed as I fell off the bed. Trenton scrambled to the edge, reaching for me, but it was too late. I was already on the floor.

  "Oh! Shit! Are you all right?"

  With my back pressed against the wall, I quickly brushed my hair from my face. When recognition sunk in, I hit the floor with both of my fists. "What the hell are you doing in my bed? How did you even get in here?"

  Trenton winced. "I brought the Jeep back about an hour ago. Brazil happened to be dropping off Raegan, and she let me in."

  "So you just . . . crawled into bed with me?" My voice was high-pitched and bordering on a screech.

  "I said I wasn't going to come in, and then I did. And then I told myself I'd sleep on the floor, but then I didn't. I just . . . had to be next to you. I was just lying there awake at Dad's." He leaned over, and reached for me with one hand. His muscles danced under his smooth, inked arm. His hand grasped mine, and then he pulled me onto the bed next to him. "Hope that was okay."

  "Does it matter at this point?"

  Half of Trenton's mouth turned up. He was clearly amused at my early morning tantrum.

  Raegan rushed down the hall and then whipped around the corner, her eyes wide. "Why are you yelling?"

  "You let him in?"

  "Yeah. Is that okay?" she said, breathless. Her hair was wild, and her mascara was smudged under her eyes.

  "Why is everyone asking me after the fact? No! It's not okay!"

  "Do you want me to go?" Trenton asked, still smiling.

  I looked at him, at Raegan, and then back at him. "No! I just don't want you sneaking into my bed when I'm asleep!"

  Raegan rolled her eyes and walked back down the hall, shutting her door.

  Trenton hooked his arm around my middle and pulled me against him, burying his face between my neck and the pillow. I lay still, looking up at the ceiling, caught between wanting desperately to tangle my arms and legs with his, and knowing that from that moment forward, if I did anything else but kick him out and never speak to him again, no one would be to blame but me.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  With one ear against the phone, and the other ear being kissed and licked quietly by Trenton, I tried to schedule a three-thirty outline. Normally Trenton behaved a little more professionally at work, but it was Sunday, we were painfully slow, and Calvin had taken Hazel to lunch for her birthday. Trenton and I were totally alone.

  "Yes. Got you down. Thank you, Jessica."

  I hung up the phone, and Trenton grabbed my hips and lifted me up, planting my ass on the counter. He hooked my ankles at the small of his back, and then slid his fingers into my hair, combing it back just enough to provide a clear path to run his tongue up my neck until it reached its destination: my earlobe. He took the tender piece of skin into his mouth, applying the tiniest bit of pressure between his top teeth and tongue. It had become my very favorite thing . . . so far. He'd been torturing me that way all week, but refused to undress me--or touch me anywhere fun--until we went to dinner Monday night after work.

  Trenton pulled me toward him and pressed his pelvis against me. "I have never looked forward to a Monday so much in my life."

  I smiled, dubious. "I don't know why you have these strange rules. We could break them ten feet away in your room."

  Trenton hummed. "Oh. We will."

  I turned my wrist over to check my watch. "You don't have anyone for an hour and a half. Why don't you start outlining that shoulder tattoo we've talked about?"

  Trenton thought for a moment. "The poppies?"

  I hopped down from the counter, opened a drawer, and pulled out the drawing Trenton had created the week before. I held it up to his face. "They're pretty, and they're significant."

  "You've said that. But you haven't told me why they're significant."

  "The Wizard of Oz. They make you forget."

  Trenton made a face.

  "What? Is that dumb?" I said, immediately defensive.

  "No. It's just that your Oz reference reminded me of Travis's girlfriend's new name for Crook."

  "What is it?"

  "Toto. Travis said she's from Kansas . . . that's why he got that breed in the first place, blah, blah, blah."

  "I agree. Crook is better."

  Trenton narrowed his eyes. "You really want the poppies?"

  I nodded an emphatic yes.

  "Red?" he asked.

  I held up his artwork again. "Just like this."

  He shrugged. "Okay, baby doll. Poppies it is." He took my hand, leading me back to his room.

  I undressed while Trenton finished his prep, but he paused just long enough to watch me pull my shirt over my head, and then slip my left arm out of my black, lacy bra strap. He shook his head and smiled wryly, amused by the G-rated striptease I'd just given him.

  By the time the tattoo machine had begun to buzz, I was completely relaxed against the chair. Trenton tattooing my skin was so extraordinarily intimate. There was something about being so close to him, the way he manipulated and stretched my skin while he worked, and the look of concentration on his face while he permanently marked my skin with one of his remarkable pieces of art. The pain was secondary to all of that.

  Trenton was just finishing up the line work when Hazel and Calvin returned. Hazel had a sack in her hand when she walked into Trenton's room.

  "I brought you both a slice of cheesecake," she said, noticing my shoulder. "Oh, that's going to be fucking amazing."

  "Thanks," I said, beaming.

  "It's been that slow, huh?" Calvin said. "I don't suppose you coulda picked up a broom?"

  "Uh . . . she's not dressed, Cal," Trenton said, dismayed.

  "She ain't got anything I haven't seen before," Calvin said.

  "You haven't seen Cami before. Get the fuck out."

  Calvin simply turned his back to us, crossing his arms. "She can't find something to organize when we're not busy? I'm paying her by the hour."

  "Everything is organized, Cal," I said. "I did sweep. I even dusted.
"

  Trenton frowned. "You bitch because she doesn't have tats, and now you're bitching because I'm tatting her. Make up your damn mind."

  Calvin craned his neck at Trenton, snarled his lip, and then disappeared around the corner.

  Hazel giggled, clearly not worried about the boys' confrontation.

  After Trenton doctored my tattoo site, I slipped my arm through my bra strap--carefully--and then pulled my shirt back over my head. "You're going to get fired if you keep pissing him off."

  "Nah," Trenton said, cleaning up his workspace. "He's secretly in love with me."

  "Calvin doesn't love anyone," Hazel said. "He's married to this shop."

  Trenton narrowed his eyes. "What about Bishop? I'm pretty sure he loves Bishop."

  Hazel rolled her eyes. "You'll need to let that go."

  I left them both and walked to the counter, noticing a buzzing noise coming from the drawer where I kept my cell phone. I pulled it open slowly, and looked at the display. It was Clark.

  "What's wrong?" Trenton asked, coming up behind me to kiss a small section of my shoulder that wasn't angry and red from the needle.

  "It's Clark. I love him, I'm just not in the mood to be in a bad mood, ya know?"

  Trenton's lips touched the outside edge of my ear. "You don't have to answer," he said softly.

  Holding the phone in the palm of my hand, I declined the call, and then tapped out a text.

  @ work. Can't talk. What's up?

  Family lunch today. Don't forget.

  Can't today. I'll try next week.

  Bad idea. Dad's already pissed about you missing last week.

  Exactly.

  Ok. I'll let them know closer to time.

  Thx.

  Trenton's one appointment was the only customer we had all day. The sky was full of lowlying gray clouds; winter threatened to throw up on us at any moment. With at least an inch of sleet and ice already on the roads, not many people were braving the weather. The shop wasn't far from campus, so we usually saw a steady stream of vehicles passing in each direction, but with the crap weather, the traffic was nonexistent.

  Trenton was drawing doodles on a piece of paper, and Hazel was lying in a straight line on the floor in front of the brown leather sofa that sat next to the entrance doors. I was typing out a paper for class. Calvin still hadn't come out of his office.