Be Your Downfall

by Lizzie Fox

  “Really?” He grinned. “I’m surprised. We could have been friends, then.”

  I clicked my tongue, shaking my head. “Not so much. When I was a senior, I don’t even think you were in junior high,” I said, poking him squarely and playfully in the chest, trying not to grin at the lithe muscle I touched under his shirt.

  He flinched. “Damn that makes me feel…”

  “Old. I feel old,” I said with a dry laugh.

  “Don’t. All my bandmates are your age or older. It’s just a number. I feel like a baby half the time compared to them, especially since they’re like…” he trailed off, gaze turning downcast.

  “Like?” I prompted.

  “You know, like… adults. Houses. Paying bills. Having kids. And here I can barely stay afloat sometimes,” he said, with a sullen sigh. I started to protest about him buying all that food but he held up his hand. “I’m fine, really. But I feel so… behind everyone, I guess.”

  “Ha! Hell I’m having to start completely over again, and I’m your bandmates’ age,” I retorted, pulling a sour face.

  “Heh. I guess we’re both a little lost, huh?” He said, nudging me gently.

  I smiled up at him with genuine affection. The feeling was so sudden and overwhelming to me that it nearly took my breath away. “Guess so.”

  A looming rumble in the distance announced that our time outside was probably running short. Seth stood and looked out over the lake. “We should probably go. I’d rather not get caught in the rain.”

  “Agreed,” I said, as he held out his hand. I slipped mine into his as he curled his long fingers around mine, and graciously helped me up. He continued holding on, only letting go to help me slide down a hill or climb over a rock. The thunder began to roll more loudly as we hiked, and lightning darted across the clouds. Seth’s grip tightened the louder it became, and we were barely to my yard when the sky opened up and started pouring. I slipped and skidded on the lawn in my crappy shoes, but Seth’s grip never wavered, and he never once stopped looking out for me. And for some reason, even as the rain poured, chilling us to the bones, my skin flushed and heated not only under the weight of his stare, but the promise of things to come.

  We managed to get into the house just as the hail started to fall; little pea-sized balls of ice, and the thunder rumbled loudly. Seth jumped slightly, and shivered, as we shook ourselves off like dogs upon entering. Cringing, I peeled the sweatshirt off my skin and tried to wring it out, kicking my sopping wet shoes off, and trying to avoid slipping in the new puddles that accumulated on the floor. “I’ll grab some towels,” I said, starting off towards the bathroom.

  “Shit, that surprised me; I didn’t think it was that close!” Seth said, wide-eyed, running his hands through his sopping wet hair. I stopped briefly to look at him, swallowing thickly. The droplets of rainwater slid down his neck, and his red t-shirt clung to the rough edges of his chest, arms, and shoulders. I had to force myself to walk away, because watching him and imagining just what was teased under that shirt was almost too much to bear. The heat inside me increased, permeating my arms and pulsing the tense nerves between my legs, that hadn’t had much reason to be awakened in the past few years—at least. All this from watching him wipe water off of himself.

  Jeez, I was getting it bad for this guy.

  I retrieved a handful of blue towels from the downstairs bathroom, and nearly stopped dead when I’d emerged. He’d stripped off his wet t-shirt and was currently shrugging out of it. And holy shit…

  He was on the thinner side, yes, but his upper body at least was a work of art from the inches and inches of ink, to the defined lines—not bulky—of his shoulders and chest, down to the distinct angles of his biceps, down to a hint of abdominal ridging that sloped and disappeared into his jeans. Which, by the way, were still dangerously low on his hips. Like, any lower and I was pretty confident I’d get a personal showing of the supposed YouTube video he mentioned.

  “Umm…” was all I said stupidly, my brain too befuddled to find words.

  “Oh, sorry,” he said, sheepishly glancing down at himself. “I forget where I am sometimes, I guess.”

  “It’s okay,” I said softly. Rather, I probably squeaked it, as I forced myself to step forward and hand him a towel.

  “Thanks,” he said, his hand brushing over mine caused my skin to tingle, and I shivered, almost violently. “God, you must be freezing!” He said, as he wiped down his chest and stomach with the towel, and I’m pretty sure I almost fainted watching his hands roam over himself—regardless if there was a towel in them or not. I could almost feel his skin under my fingertips… I bet it felt warm and smooth, even being damp from the rain. Swallowing nervously, I felt my neck flush with heat, despite being out in the pouring rain. I about needed to fan myself, but I couldn’t because if I did…

  “Jessie? Are you cold?” He asked again carefully. Nope not cold… feverish actually… still I shook anyway from the nerves, not from the cold.

  “Um…” I said again, like a blubbering moron. Seth took one of the towels from my hands and leaned over me to wrap it around my shoulders, pinning it in front until I clutched it closed.

  “You should get out of that wet stuff,” he instructed, seriously at first, but his eyes darkened realizing the implication of what he said.

  But he was quickly distracted by the sound of a loud crack of thunder, followed by a bright flash of light, almost immediately afterward. He nearly jumped about five feet in the air, and he tensed, fisting the towel in his hands so hard his knuckles turned white.

  “Shit,” he muttered, trembling and wincing. “Sorry, I really don’t like storms. Like… at all.”

  “It’s okay,” I replied with reassurance.

  “No, I mean I really don’t like them.” He drew in a sharp breath, closed his eyes briefly, and let it out. “Okay. You really need to change, and so do I. I really don’t want to be upstairs though with all this—” On cue, a crack of thunder rattled the house. I reached out to clutch his arm; the hair was standing totally on end.

  And judging by how his jaw clenched… he really wasn’t exaggerating. “I can get you something upstairs if you tell me where it is?”

  He thought momentarily, before grinning slightly. “Hey, what kind of a guy would I be if I let a girl travel alone to her doom?”

  I snorted, rolling my eyes. “Come on, you,” I said, tugging on his arm.

  “Do I get a show, then?” He asked playfully. His hand squeezed mine as another lower rumble sounded.

  I tossed him a playful look over my shoulder. “Maybe…”

  “I’ll risk death then,” he said, with a wide grin, and followed me upstairs.

  17

  Seth

  As much as I wanted to, I didn’t actually follow Jessie into her bedroom. It would have been the perfect opportunity to make a bold move, but I promised I would go slow—well, slowish—and I would. At least as long as I could. And, despite the fact that the storm was making me as nervous as a fly caught in a spiderweb, my dick was still painfully reminded of how slow I was going. Because when I caught her staring at me after coming out of the bathroom, my skin heated about five hundred degrees, and I had to think about gross things like super hairy beer guts or rotting corpses to stop from picturing stripping off her wet clothes, pinning her to the wall, and kissing her senseless.

  Why was I doing this again? Oh, yes… because I was going slow. Right. If that’s what it took, that’s what it took. But it was torture. Tor-ture. Apparently, I was a glutton for punishment.

  I changed clothes quickly—just some pajama pants and a tank—and quickly went back downstairs. Storms made me nervous as hell. It was completely irrational; hell, I knew how they worked. Still the irrational fear, coupled with my bipolar or whatever the hell I was using as an excuse this time made summer a bit difficult. Wisconsin was no stranger to bad weather, complete with straight line winds, tornadoes—and what scared me the most, lightning. So I just paced in the gr
eat room, waiting for Jessie to emerge. And when she did wearing tight black shorts and a green t-shirt that said, “Don’t piss me off I’ll kill you in my next novel,” I barely even heard the crack of thunder across the lake. She was running a brush through her long brown hair as she came down the stairs.

  Yeah, not sure how long I’m going to last at this at all. All her curves were hugged and displayed, even though besides legs, she didn’t show much at all—though the legs were enough.

  “You okay?” She asked uncertainly, her gaze tracked downward. I noticed my fists were clenched at my sides, and I loosened them, laughing sheepishly, shaking them out.

  “Yeah,” I said, chuckling uneasily. “Just the storms.”

  “Well, it’s probably quieter in the basement if you want,” she suggested. “Though there isn’t much down there yet, I could give you my laptop to watch movies on.”

  I cocked a brow. “You won’t come with?”

  She snickered. “Your fear is storms? Mine is basements. More specifically—being underground.” Jessie shuddered hard.

  Slapping my hand against my face, I feigned a grumble. “Well crap then! No, really, being bored downstairs would just make it worse, because even though you can’t hear it as well, you can still feel it. You know?”

  She nodded in some sort of understanding. “TV then? I only have the basic cable package but there has to be something, right?”

  “Sure. Going to grab something to drink first. Want something?” I asked, and she nodded.

  “Just water, please.”

  I retrieved a bottle of water and can of pop from the fridge, and sat back on the sofa, not too close to her—didn’t want to appear overeager. Though I certainly was. Eager, I mean.

  “So, why storms?” She asked, mindlessly flipping through the channels of the big screen TV, attached to a stand across the room.

  Sighing, I popped the can open and took a long swig. The sugar and fizz was heaven in my mouth, and burned a little as it went down. Since I didn’t drink alcohol on the meds—and really never liked it anyway—the scalding feel of the carbonation down my throat and sugar rush was the next best thing. “Um, well… when I was little—even before Lily was born, lightning struck our yard. Some metal thing; it was a big open yard. And I felt it…the hair on my neck and everything just stood up. I can’t explain it, it was just…wrong. All our power went out, too. No lights, no clocks—nothing.” I grimaced at the thought.

  “Crap,” Jessie said, with a frown.

  “Yeah. Well, being I was young—five I think? Storms just scared me period. Totally normal. But all the noises and then everything like sort of triggered something in me. It didn’t help that my parents were in the middle of arguing. Not just a little fight but a drag out, knock down fist-fight.”

  She cringed. “Jeez. That’s… awful.”

  I nodded in agreement. “I think that was the first time I had a panic attack,” I said, scowling. “And of course instead of understanding my parents just yelled at me. ‘Go back to bed’ or ‘shut up it’s no big deal.’” I glowered at the can I held in my hand, just because I could. Because, that wasn’t the only time storms freaked me out, but it was the only time I felt comfortable divulging right now.

  “Dang. I can understand why you’d have issues, then.” Jessie’s expression was sympathetic when I looked to her, and I smiled appreciatively. Especially when she didn’t give me a strange look, like I was some sort of odd freak when the house rumbled and shook again, and lightning flashed only a moment later. I shivered, feeling a sickening sensation crawl up my neck and down my spine.

  “I sort of dubbed that the point and time where my brain screwed up,” I said, with a dry laugh.

  “Hey.” She reached over, and softly slapped the side of my leg. “Your brain is not screwed up.” She gave me a stern look, complete with pinched forehead and mellow scowl from the side of her mouth that had she been wearing glasses, and rapping a ruler on my desk, she totally would have reminded me of a naughty school teacher.

  Shit. That image wasn’t helping my erection situation any, and these pants were ten times worse than the jeans because they didn’t hold anything in. What was I thinking?

  “Seth?”

  Oh yeah, I was supposed to be talking or something… fucking dick I swear…

  “Sorry, my brain went somewhere else for a minute. Told you it was jacked up.” That wasn’t the only thing jacked up. I reached for a blanket draped over the back of the sofa; like that would do anything. But it was better than nothing.

  She rolled her eyes. “Stop it. I’m messed up too, then. Still pining after a guy that’s been gone for thirteen years.”

  I shifted until I faced her, the blanket still in my lap. “That is completely different.”

  “How so? I’m afraid to move on, right?”

  “Stop. Would he really want you to keep being alone just because he was gone?” I asked carefully, I was probably treading on thin ice.

  She gave me a wry look. “Now you sound like Victoria.”

  Another large clap of thunder sounded, and I shook, feeling the nausea roil in my stomach, and my bones ache. God I hated these things. It was so stupid too. I knew there was nothing to be worried about—usually—but the noise and the feel of the ozone and electricity in the air just wouldn’t let me relax.

  “Seriously, are you okay?” Jessie asked, sliding closer to me. For a moment, my mind hardly registered that she reached out a hand and brushed her fingers over my jawline. I felt my pulse beat out of control as her fingertips carefully traced over the side of my throat. Her green eyes regarded me with what started as worry, but slowly they darkened and narrowed; the pupils gently dilating, and her chest rose and fell rapidly under her shirt. I pretended not to notice every time she breathed in, her breasts brushed over my thigh with the way she was angled.

  Well, this was one way to forget about the weather.

  “Fine,” I breathed, barely able to speak. The air grew heavy between us, and I swallowed gently, trying to avoid staring down her shirt as she leaned over me. My cock was already fucking aching, any more and I would be beyond the point of turning back.

  I wouldn’t obviously force myself on her… but I would have to leave for the bathroom for about ten minutes.

  An insanely loud crash of thunder made me flinch and jump. Jessie quickly moved away cautiously. Goddammit.

  Normally I’d take something for the anxiety, which was quickly sinking in. But it would knock me out, and I didn’t want to be asleep just yet. I could have sworn she was thisclose to kissing me. And mother nature had to go and fuck it up. Obviously, she fucking hated me.

  “Getting bad huh?” Jessie frowned.

  “Yeah…” I reached around and rubbed at the back of my neck; the skin grew clammy, along with my hands. As the rain pounded on the window outside, and the lightning flashed, my nerves began to get the best of me. It was a rotten feeling that wore in the pit of your stomach, and made your bones feel like they couldn’t fit in your skin. Everything felt tight, and the room would start spinning and become blurred, like looking through a foggy kaleidoscope.

  It didn’t help that the entire front of the house was almost all windows, and everything outside was visible. I supposed it would be cool, if I could get the fuck over it—such a stupid fear, my god.

  Twenty-six-year-old man, afraid of a fucking thunderstorm. How’s that for sexy?

  “Seth?”

  My mind must have been wandering because Jessie sat nearby, looking incredibly concerned as she knelt on her knees, leaning back on her calves. Her hair tumbled over her front, and she anxiously ran her hands through it. “Are you going to be okay? It doesn’t look like it’s letting up any time soon.” She nodded towards the TV; at some point she had turned on the local weather. The entire state of Wisconsin seemingly was covered with a storm front, and half of Minnesota. Why didn’t my weather app go off? It probably did, but the raging hard-on in my pants didn’t let me notice. Dammi
t.

  “I’m fine, really. I just need to take something. I really didn’t want to, but if it’s going to be any longer…” I started to rise, feeling off balance.

  “Hey, sit.” She promptly urged me back to my seat. “I’ll get it. Where is it?”

  “In the nightstand.”

  “Okay. Be right back.” She gripped my shoulder gently before tearing off upstairs. Her touch was warm against my clammy skin, even on my shoulder, and I suddenly missed it.

  The hell? I’ve been through hundreds of these and suddenly the touch of one single person makes it better? Now I was getting scared, and not just of the thunder

  I didn’t have much time to ponder, as I scratched and tensed my limbs, because Jessie was back in a flash.

  “This the right one?” She inquired, handing me a brown bottle. “I didn’t ask, but I recognize this.”

  “Yeah, this is it.” Unscrewing the cap, I poured one into my hand, and quickly downed it with a gulp of the pop Jessie had handed me from the nearby table. I closed my eyes tightly, willing the room to stop spinning, clenching my fists in my lap.

  I felt Jessie’s soft body sidle up against me, her arms wrapped around my waist and she set her chin on my shoulder. I shivered again—this time for another reason. I cocked my head and glanced at her curiously. Yeah, I was still jumpy, and shaking some, but feeling her steadfastly next to me had a definite calming effect. She shifted gently, and her hair tumbled and grazed over my arm. God she was beautiful.

  Why am I not kissing her? Why the fuck am I not pinning her to this couch and stripping off her clothes and finding all of her sweet spots, kissing them over and over until she calls out my name and begs for more? The hell is wrong with me…?

  Perhaps the meds were already kicking in. It didn’t take long, and it wouldn’t be long before I was totally spaced out. Her eyes were still wide with worry, but those pupils told another story. So did the lower lip caught between her teeth. And I felt that…electric pull. All night long I’d wanted to be next to her, to feel her under my hands, and taste her lips.