Shameless

by Storm, Zee Shine

  Ziad seemed to have materialized out of my thoughts because he was sitting right there on the edge of their field with a soccer ball between his feet. He didn't notice me at first, seemingly lost in thought as he stared at the ground. But then he looked up and I'm not sure why but my heart gave a tiny little jump.

  I hadn't seen him since the night of my birthday. He had stopped coming around and I'd been relieved because that little moment we had shared in the hallway had been disturbingly intimate. And now he was here in front of me bringing back unwanted thoughts and feelings. When did my interaction with this boy start to become so complicated? I'd watched him grow up with my son but these days, he felt like a completely different person.

  Someone new and exciting. Looking at him made me feel like he was a mystery needing to be solved. There were things about him I didn't know and felt like finding out because ever since Cole and Jasper, no other guy had ever been able to slowly seep into my thoughts this way. What was it about him?

  "Hey. What're you doing out here?" Zi questioned me as he got to his feet.

  His voice was deep for an eighteen year old. It was the first thing you would notice about him if you didn't look closely enough. And when you did look, you'd notice things that would capture and hold your interest as a female for quite some time.

  "I was just out for a walk," I replied with a shrug. "Didn't expect to see anyone."

  He approached me slowly, dressed in shorts and a soccer jersey. "I like training at nights. When everything is quiet. It helps me focus on my weak spots without anyone else pointing it out to me."

  I felt nervous. This eighteen year old boy was making me, a grown woman with three teenage kids and so much life experience, nervous. Just by standing in front of me.

  "That's...really nice," I managed to say.

  He smelled like sweat mingled with some cologne. It was quite potent. This encounter seemed even more intimate than the last time because now, we truly were all by ourselves in the dark of the night and it was easy to get carried away during such surreal moments.

  "I should head back," I said a little breathlessly when I realised he was standing far too close to me once again.

  I knew Ziad would never try something with me. He was much too respectable for that but it was still a dangerous situation.

  "I'll walk with you," he offered casually and fell into step beside me as I turned around to leave.

  "Oh no. You don't have to. It's not even a minute's walk," I said quickly.

  My house was in plain view and the path was so clear. He didn't have to accompany me at all.

  "Please. I insist.” Zi placed the ball a few feet away and then kicked it towards the field behind us.

  I watched the ball sail across the air in a perfect arc before hitting the net at the far end. Even if you weren't a soccer fan, that kick would've impressed anyone. I'd watched Jacob play for years and I knew he couldn't make a goal from this distance even without obstructions.

  "Wow," I said without thinking and he chuckled.

  "Shall we?"

  I turned to see him waiting for me on the path with his hands in his pockets. I knew he wouldn't let me walk back by myself. Zi possessed those old world traits that you didn't see much in young men these days. Things like politeness and chivalry.

  I smiled a little as I walked beside him, neither of us saying a word. It was so strange. I was a married woman and yet, I felt like I was being escorted home after a date. I didn't think I'd ever felt this way about any guy back when I had been in high school and had dated a couple of boys. They'd all been such jerks.

  Zi was such a nice guy. So...protective.

  The direction of my thoughts made me suck in a breath as we neared my house. He was Ziad Qureshi, my son's best friend and someone who'd been a kid just a few years ago. What was wrong with me? I never imagined I'd start behaving like a cougar in my forties. My husband and kids were sleeping in the house for God's sake.

  "You shouldn't walk alone this way at night, Mrs. Sawyer," he suddenly spoke up, bursting my thought bubble. "You can never trust the men around here. Especially those feisty Italian guys who love the sight of a beautiful woman a little too much."

  I was pretty sure that I blushed at his words. I could feel my face heating up and my heartbeats accelerated too. He thought I was beautiful? He really thought that way about me? Thought that even at this age I could turn a man's head that way?

  We stood at the edge of my property and Ziad folded his arms across his chest and said, "Go on. I'll walk back when you're safely inside."

  I did the most shocking thing then. I actually giggled. Like some schoolgirl. The way he was acting...

  "I'm the adult here, you know. I'm supposed to make sure that you're safely inside your house."

  He looked down at me, being almost a head taller. "Yeah but...I'm not a little boy anymore, Skye."

  I must have frozen. He called me Skye. Jesus. That sounded too intimate as well. Something shifted in the air between us as we stayed glued to the spot and kept our eyes on each other. His tone was low and sleepy and his eyes hooded. Shockingly, I felt the first tell-tale signs of arousal stir within me. It made my nipples grow hard and I swallowed a few times as an illicit thrill ran through my body.

  He stepped closer to me and I didn't move back this time or push him away. He was so close that the silk of his jersey brushed against my arm.

  "Ziad," I whispered, half-warning and half-wanting.

  I needed to step away before we crossed a line but I glanced up at him instead. His face was only inches from mine, his sweaty scent triggering some deep, feral feminine response in me. We were both breathing fast. Quick, nervous breaths fueled by anticipation and desire. God, I wanted to steal this kiss from him. I wanted to know...

  Acting purely on instinct, I raised myself up on my toes and captured his lips with mine. I think I might have surprised him a little because he didn't respond at first. But then he let out a soft moan and kissed me back while one of his hands crept in my hair and the other clutched at my waist.

  It was a desperate kiss. Something we knew we weren't supposed to share so we snatched the moment and made it ours. Tendrils of desire ran across my spine and pooled at my core, making me want to grab his jersey and press myself against him harder.

  But I stopped myself. Right in the middle of kissing, I put my hands on his chest and pushed just a little. He made some kind of frustrated sound but he let go of me almost at once, allowing me to step away from him.

  I regarded him with wide eyes as he breathed heavily in the night air, shoving his hands inside his pockets.

  "God. I'm so sorry," I whispered and backed away, feeling perversely thrilled and ashamed at the same time.

  "Wait," he said, his eyes running over me as if he was trying to take all of me in, his chest still rising and falling visibly. "Don't feel bad," he whispered back. "I wanted it. I've been thinking about it for almost three weeks now."

  No. No, he couldn't say that to me. Didn't he realise that made it even more complicated? We had already broken enough rules. He couldn't let me know how long he had been thinking about kissing me.

  "Goodnight, Zi," I said dismissively and went inside the house.

  ...

  That had happened three nights ago. And every time Cole made a move to touch me after that, all I thought about was that forbidden kiss I had shared with the boy next door. So I pushed my husband away in whatever way I could when he got too romantic.

  It scared me. I didn't want to be one of those women who fantasized about other guys while their husbands made love to them. Cole deserved so much better from me.

  But the woman I was becoming, the one who was slowly clawing her way up from somewhere deep inside me, seemed hell-bent on leading me down a path a destruction.

  ****

  Chapter 5

  Skye

  Jacob came to my room that night an hour later. I was still up, reading a book when he knocked softly on the door
with a solemn expression on his face. Tall and with a commanding presence, Jacob was that child of mine who had retained many of his core qualities from childhood.

  The seriousness, the quiet and brooding demeanor and all that restless energy which he now dealt with by playing soccer like a pro. He wasn't someone who laughed often or smiled just to be polite. Apart from the blue eyes which he got from me, he resembled Jasper in so many ways. The older he grew, the more evident it became.

  I sometimes dwelled on how I'd stupidly refused to tell anyone who his father actually was all those years ago. The way Jacob looked and behaved now, even a blind man would be able to tell that Cole hadn't fathered this boy.

  "Hey. How was the carnival?" I asked my son with a smile.

  He looked towards the bathroom, over at my mini bookshelf, then focused on the foot of the bed with a frown and said, "Mum, I'm really sorry. I know I've been acting like an as-" He stopped and blinked at me then continued. "I know I haven't been good to you and I'm just really feeling bad about that. I'll do better. I promise."

  Putting the book away, I slid out of bed and walked over to him, unable to keep the smile of amusement off my face. My hand reached up to cradle his jaw.

  "And how much of that did you father actually ask you to say to me?" I asked him, trying to keep the laughter at bay.

  He was so adorable. I knew Jacob and my son didn't apologise if he believed he was right in his anger. Unless someone he looked up to more than anyone else somehow convinced him to do so. Upon my question, he appeared sheepish and rubbed the back of his neck, choosing not to answer me.

  "It's okay, honey. If you say you'll do better, then I'm going to assume that you will," I told him, folding my arms and regarding him affectionately. "I love you."

  "Hmm," he said in response and it made me want to laugh even more. That was another thing about him. He hardly ever used the word 'love'.

  Once Jacob had left, I picked up my phone and called Jasper. He answered on the fifth ring.

  "Madison," he said and hearing that voice say my name after so many weeks felt kind of good.

  "Thank you for talking to him," I said in a flat tone. "What's your secret? How do you make him do something that nobody else can?"

  He didn't bother to answer me but came back with a response I hadn't expected. "Stop being mean to my little boy when I'm not there, okay."

  I frowned at that. "I’m never mean to him, Jasper. He's the one who needs to be disciplined."

  "He did nothing wrong. What's going on with you? Why are you accusing him of having an affair?"

  I realised a few seconds later that he had been talking about Cole while I'd been referring to Jacob.

  "Are you there?" Jasper demanded impatiently. "He was crying, for God's sake. He told me not to say anything to you but I can't ignore this. Is there something you want to tell me?"

  I might have stopped breathing for a minute. The way he asked me that question sounded so...perceptive. As though he knew. Which was ridiculous. He was in Australia, busy with his camera and his arm candy.

  "What exactly do you mean by that?" I asked him in a haughty tone.

  "Don't use that tone with me," he countered and I could picture the slight sneer that was probably on his face at that moment. "Cole tells me you've been asking him for space lately. What's that all about?"

  I rolled my eyes at the wall. "I don't have to answer to you, okay."

  He was quiet for a while. "Send him to Australia," he said at last.

  "Who? Jacob? I already told you-"

  "Not Jacob. Cole," he cut in abruptly. "He's got two weeks off. I asked him to come but he's worried about you and the kids. Tell him you'll be fine. Get him a ticket."

  I absently looked towards the open doorway and thought about it. Cole did miss Jasper a lot and maybe it would be a good thing if he went to see him. It was only for two weeks, anyway.

  "You know, I don't like you ordering me around like this," I said to him airily. "He's my husband, not yours."

  He snorted at that. My words didn't even faze him. Jasper and his thick hide. He didn't even need a label to achieve validation in his relationship with Cole. I wanted to kick him sometimes simply for that arrogance.

  "You need space from that husband though, right?" Jasper asked me in a low voice. "Let me take him off your hands for a while. Sort yourself out. Whatever it is."

  Again, I had that uncanny feeling that he somehow knew exactly what was going on with me. This really was ridiculous. My guilt was making me paranoid. He wasn't God.

  "Fine," I said flatly.

  "Fine. And don't call me without texting first. I'm not in your time zone in case you've forgotten. I get it though. It's hard remembering stuff with old age catching up with you."

  He hung up and I had to say it. I just had to because I'd go mad if I didn't.

  "Asshole," I muttered vehemently before stalking off towards my laptop to book a ticket for Cole online.

  ~~~

  Zi

  I was doing my homework at the breakfast bar in our kitchen while listening to music. Actually, I was doing both mine and Jacob's homework. He was falling behind in his schoolwork and if he didn't make the grade in this latest homework assignment, he wouldn't be able to play soccer anymore.

  Soccer was the most important thing in my best friend's life. He trained very hard and deserved so much glory but he hated schoolwork. He hated that he had to do well in exams in order to be deemed worthy of playing for the local team. We were picked based not only on talent but on our school coach's recommendation as well so Jacob really needed to show some improvement on the academic front. This was the last assignment of his I was going to do since it was due tomorrow but after that, he had to catch up on his own. I couldn't help him when it came to exams.

  My father walked into the kitchen to get something from the fridge then and I slowly slid Jacob's assignment under a Math textbook before working on my own. He was unusually quiet and I glanced up at his face after a while only to find him looking very troubled. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair all disheveled and his movements agitated.

  "Abbu? Are you okay?" I asked slowly, putting my pen down.

  He leaned against the fridge and watched me with a dejected expression. "Yeah. I'm fine," he answered dryly.

  He didn't seem fine at all.

  "Anything you want to talk about?" I prompted gently.

  My dad let out a sigh. "Nope. Nothing at all."

  I heard someone snickering behind me. "Aww. Did Jasmine make you cry again, Abbu?"

  Shifting in my seat, I threw my sister a warning look. She just winked at me.

  "What did she use this time? Whips and chains?" Aali went on shamelessly, smirking at me while directing the question at our father.

  There was no cure for people like her. I turned back around and regarded my dad with concern. Why was he so upset?

  "We had a fight," he finally confided in a low voice. "I got mad at her and said some really mean stuff. I...made her cry."

  Both Aali and I let out a long, "Ohhhh," when he said the last part.

  Abbu frowned at us. "What?"

  I smiled at him kindly. "Nothing. Don't worry. Aunt Jasmine's tough. She'll be okay."

  "Yeah," Aaliyah piped up. "And I'm sure she'll get back at you and even the score later."

  God. This girl.

  He didn't respond to either of us but went upstairs after pouring himself some watermelon juice. Amusement and sympathy both lingered within me as I thought about him. My dad usually started to cry when someone else cried. Especially if that someone else was aunt Jasmine. I'd discovered that was something known as emotional contagion. By now, all of us were used to seeing him respond in such a manner but it still made me feel sorry for him.

  "I wonder what he did to make the bitch cry," my sister was saying as she flitted around the kitchen. "Do you think she cries actual tears?"

  "Aali," I said slowly. "Stop."

  "What? I'm just curious,"
she replied, taking out her baking supplies from a cupboard. My rebellious, wicked little sister had one taming quality. She loved to bake.

  I didn't say anything more as I went back to my homework. After a minute, footsteps sounded behind me and then Jacob's voice followed.

  "Zi. You done with my homework?" he questioned as he came up beside me. "I need to show Mum I finished the thing so she can let me practise."

  Sliding his paper out from under the textbook, I skimmed through it. "Almost," I mumbled and scribbled a few more formulas on the side.

  He waited while I finished it and when I finally looked up at him, I was a little stunned by the sight that met my eyes. Jacob's neck was exposed and contained a good number of hickeys. He wore a round neck white t-shirt and his skin was bare, pale with those tiny red bites so conspicuous. He gave me a questioning look when he noticed me staring so I gestured to his neck with my finger.

  Jacob just shrugged at me. "It happens during sex, my friend. You should try it sometime."

  I simply handed him the paper without responding. Whenever Jacob came over to my place, he seemed to turn into this bold, overtly sexual teenager as if he was trying to prove to people that he had a working dick or something. At his own home or even at school, he made sure to be careful though. For example, I could see him carrying a hoodie and his hair was ruffled so it seemed as though he'd just taken it off before entering my house. Like he wanted people to notice. Or maybe just one person in particular.

  "Ready for camp this weekend?” I asked him as he stood there studying his homework.

  "I can't go," he said curtly.

  "What? Why?"

  Jacob scowled at the paper. "Cole's gone to Australia to see Dad and there's nobody at home to help Mum so...I have to be there."

  The way my heartbeats sped up at his statement, I was afraid the whole world could hear. I can help her, I almost blurted out. With whatever she needs. How about you go to camp and let me stay over instead? Then I sucked in a controlling breath to curb my wishful thinking. She'd left so abruptly after that mind-blowing kiss, I bet she never wanted to see my face again.