“Don’t. Please.” She shifts up, her fingers pressing against my mouth to silence me. “There’s no need to say anything. I know how you feel.”
The hell she does. I part my lips, fully intending to forge on, but before I can get a word out she replaces her fingers with her mouth and kisses me.
Just like that, I’m lost. In the taste of her soft, hungry mouth, in the feel of her warm, slender body. I roll over onto my back and she follows, lying on top of me, our mouths searching, our tongues seeking.
“Make love to me,” she whispers against my lips. “One last time, Colin. Please.”
One last time? If I have anything to say about it, this is just the beginning. I want to tell her that. I need to tell her how I feel but she’s kissing me again, long, hot, drugging kisses that push all rational thought out of my brain, and I’m done for.
Jen
I know I shouldn’t do this, but I want just one more chance with him before I go. That’s all I’m asking for. I know that together, we’re not going to work. He can’t deal with my past and what I’ve done. I can barely deal with it, so how can I expect acceptance from him?
I’d lain awake forever, unable to sleep, my body too restless, my brain too busy with my thoughts, my worries. I heard him yell, though I couldn’t understand what he’d said. He sounded so angry, though. Until I heard him call my name.
And then he just sounded sad. Pitiful.
Unable to resist, I’d gone to him just like all the other nights I snuck into his room. He lay in bed clad in just his underwear, the sheets twisted around his legs, baring him to my gaze. His golden hair an absolute mess, the strain and worry his dream was causing him written all over his gorgeous face.
Without thought I slipped into bed with him, untangling the sheet and pulling it over the both of us. He turned to me in his sleep, as if he knew I was there and sought me out. My heart flipped over in my chest and I snuggled close to him, desperate to offer him the comfort he needs one last time.
“I love you,” I whispered against his chest, feeling safe knowing he wasn’t awake. “I wish you could see that and accept it.”
When he finally wakes up, he looks so pleased to find me in his bed that I know we’re going to have sex. I want it, literally crave feeling him move within me.
His kisses set me on fire. His hands are all over my body, touching me reverently, as if I am special. I believe that in his eyes, his mind, I am special, and the thought fills me with so much warmth, so much love, I almost want to cry.
I focus instead on him. On his beautiful body, the way he looks at me when I put my mouth on his in a hard, hot kiss. I kiss him everywhere, memorizing his every line and muscle with my lips, branding him as mine.
Because he is mine. We will belong to each other forever, even if we can’t be together.
I strip his underwear off with trembling fingers, touching him everywhere I can. His stomach, his legs, his erection. His hands shake when he reaches for me and helps me shed my clothes. Within minutes we are a tangled mess of arms and legs, our mouths fused, our bodies connected, as he pushes inside me. So deep, I cry out in pure, exquisite pleasure.
I asked him to make love to me, and God, he does, so perfectly. This isn’t a fast, hard coming together for us. He takes his time with me, as do I with him. His touch, his mouth and hands and fingers, are gentle, reverent, searching as they skim over my body, paying particular attention to all the right places. The spots he knows arouse me, give me so much pleasure I’m afraid I might fall completely apart far too soon. I feel worshiped, beautiful, loved.
Loved.
Maybe I’m reading too much into it. Maybe I’m projecting my own feelings onto him, but I feel so completely connected to him in this very moment. As if he understands me and I understand him. That we’re able to toss aside all past hurts and mistakes and are both finally ready to focus on the here and now.
Wishful thinking, I suppose, since I know it’s not true. But I can’t help it.
And when he moves inside me so deep, deeper, until he’s a complete and total part of me, my orgasm slowly takes over, washing over my skin, through my veins, pulsing through my bones. It feels like an awakening. A realization. My breath lodges in my throat, my belly flutters, and my heart threatens to leap out of my chest.
I’ve never felt so lost, so found, so utterly . . . confused.
So fitting. I’ve been confused when it comes to Colin since the day I met him.
“I hate that I’m taking part in this,” Fable whispers to me when I meet her at the curb in front of Colin’s house. She’d driven Drew’s truck over to pick me up. I’d texted her hours ago, basically begging her to do it. She agreed, no questions asked, but now she’s balking. Can I blame her? It’s five in the morning, the sun isn’t even up yet, and I’m leaving like a thief in the night.
For good.
“Well, I really appreciate you taking part in this because I don’t know how I’d get out of here otherwise.” I throw my one suitcase into the backseat of Drew’s extended-cab truck and climb into the passenger seat, looking at Fable expectantly. “You ready to go?”
She’s sitting in the driver’s seat, looking exceptionally tiny in such a huge vehicle, her small hands gripping the steering wheel. Her long blond hair is piled on top of her head in a sloppy bun and her sleepy-looking face is devoid of makeup, but she’s still beautiful. She wears Old Navy sweats and a T-shirt, fake Uggs covering her feet. I’m wearing almost the same damn thing in different colors, though I don’t bother pointing out that we’re practically twinsies.
Now is not the time for cutesy-type stuff. I need to make my escape. And Fable is uncomfortable enough already with the situation.
“You should tell him you’re leaving,” she blurts out, her imploring eyes meeting mine. “It’s the least you can do.”
“I left him a note.” I tear my gaze away from hers, staring at the dark, quiet house. That was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, walking away from him. Leaving his bed while he lay there sleeping peacefully . . . I’d wanted to slip right back beneath the covers and hold him close. Never let him go.
But I didn’t. I had to go. It was best for both of us.
At least, that’s what I tell myself.
“A note is a really chicken-shit thing to do,” Fable says softly. “Trust me, I hate notes. It’s much better to pour out your feelings to someone in person.”
“You love Drew’s poems,” I point out. “And he’s always pouring his heart out in those.” A big, buff football player with a romantic heart, the guy is downright swoon-worthy.
My overprotective, sort-of-demanding Colin is swoon-worthy too. I just refuse to think about him like that any longer. It’s too hard. My heart hurts, I miss him so much.
And I haven’t even left him yet.
“Yeah, I love his poems now. But when he first left me, he left behind a note that both broke my very soul and filled me with so much hope that I knew he’d come back to me.” She smiles, but it’s sad. “He didn’t.”
“What?” I’m incredulous. “What are you talking about?” I thought they were perfect for each other. That they had the perfect relationship. Yeah, I knew they had some trouble and things were rocky at first, but I had no idea he’d bailed on her and didn’t come back.
“Remember that night when the frat boys were having the party and Drew was there? And he almost got into a fight with that one asshole?” Fable shudders at the memory.
“Yeah, of course I remember.” That had been quite the drama-filled evening. It had also brought Fable and me closer together. I realized then that she could become my friend.
And she did. She’s now my very best friend and I’m leaving her, too.
“That was the first night I saw him after over two months,” Fable admits.
Here I thought their relationship was the ideal we should all aspire to. “Fable, I had no idea . . .”
She waves a hand, dismissing my words, clearly uncomfortable w
ith my sympathy. “Yeah, yeah. It was a mess, but eventually we figured everything out and made it work, so look at us now. We’re getting married.”
Jealousy clutches at my heart, makes me wish I could have that easy acceptance from Colin, but I know it’s never going to happen. He will forever hold what I did in the past against me. I can’t blame him.
I hold it against me too.
“Whatever he did,” she says softly, breaking through my thoughts, “whatever you’ve done, none of it matters if you love each other enough.”
I really hate when she pulls the mind-reader stuff. “I wish I could believe that,” I mutter resentfully. “You make it sound so easy.”
“It is easy when you face all your problems together. Easier, I should say. Fighting your battles separately won’t work. Trust me. The battles just grow larger and longer.”
“Please don’t lecture me and try to keep me here,” I whisper, my voice nothing but a ragged rasp. “We need to go, Fable. Now. He might wake up and realize I’m gone.”
Her lips disappearing into a thin line, she shifts the truck into drive and pulls away from the sidewalk, driving slowly through the neighborhood I’ve lived in for little over a year. Tears threaten as I stare at the houses that we pass by and I don’t hold them back, letting them flow freely down my cheeks.
“Why, Jen?” Fable’s sad voice makes me turn and look at her. “Why are you leaving when you so clearly don’t want to? What’s so bad about this place, huh? You have me, you have Drew, you have everyone who works at The District, and you have Colin. We all support you and care about you. So why won’t you stay?”
I rub the back of my neck, my fingers tracing over the stupid, beautiful tattoo. Colin cares for me. Perhaps he even loves me. Can he accept what happened? What I did? I don’t know. We may have had sex and shared a beautiful moment together, but we didn’t talk about anything.
Before I give myself—and my heart—to Colin completely, I need to make sure he’s ready. And I don’t think he’s there yet.
So it’s best to get it over with now, right? Leave him before he can really break my heart . . .
“There’s more going on than you know,” I admit to Fable, my voice shaky, my stomach roiling. I feel sick; I’ve hardly eaten anything since lunch yesterday and I think I might puke. Closing my eyes briefly, I try to stop the tears, searching for some sort of inner strength. “I’ve done things in my past I’m not proud of.”
“I thought he knew you were a stripper?” she asks gently.
Nodding, I brush at the tears still streaming down my cheeks. “There’s other stuff, too. Bad stuff I couldn’t tell you.” I take a deep, shuddering breath. “Really bad stuff, Fable. You might hate me for it. I know he does.”
Fable pulls over the truck and puts it into park, then turns to look at me. “Whatever you’ve done, I don’t care. It will never, ever bother me because you’re my friend and I will never judge you. You can choose to tell me all about it or keep it your secret—I totally understand and respect your decision.” She pauses, her gaze gentling, so full of genuine concern it makes me want to cry harder. Just collapse in her arms and absorb some of her strength for awhile. “But if you want to talk about it, I’m here for you. I want you to know that.”
I nod, hardly able to speak, too overcome by her kind and easy acceptance. “I—I let men pay me money for sex,” I blurt out, needing to tell her, needing to get everything off my chest.
She doesn’t blink, doesn’t react whatsoever, though I see sympathy fill her gaze. “Oh Jen . . .”
“I know, right? I’m nothing but a whore. Not that I got paid for having intercourse with anyone, but I handed out blow jobs for cash.” I shake my head, disgusted at the words, at the realization of what I’ve done. I cheapened myself. Sold my body like a common slut. I’m so ashamed, I wish I could crawl inside a hole and never, ever come out.
“You did what you had to do, I’m sure.” Fable reaches for me over the center console and I go to her, letting her envelop me in a hug. She holds me close, patting my back, making soothing noises as I start to cry in earnest on her shoulder. I can’t believe I’m falling apart like this. Talk about embarrassing.
But it also feels good. Liberating. This secret has boiled within me for so long, I thought I might burst. I believed I could forget all about it. Just push the dirty memories from my mind and pretend it never happened.
It did happen, though. I can’t forget it. Everyone thinks I’m good, sweet, and kind Jen, but I’m not. I’m a fraud.
“I don’t know how Colin found out, but he knew everything. Everything.” My voice chokes up and I shake my head. “God, I hated the way he looked at me. Like I was the most disgusting thing on this planet.”
“I doubt that. I’ve seen the way he looks at you and it’s more like you’re the sexiest, most beautiful woman on this planet in his eyes,” Fable says. “He loves you, Jen. He has to. I’m sure he can look past your mistakes and forgive you.”
“Yeah, well, I doubt that,” I mutter, wishing what Fable said were true.
But wishes are for fools. So I guess I’m one of them.
Chapter 22
Colin
“She’s gone, and I think you know where she went,” I growl into my cell phone, not giving a shit who might hear me. “So you’d better fuckin’ tell me.”
I’m at work, the place is bustling, and I’m hiding out in my office, seeking privacy though I keep the door wide open. Maybe one of my employees will overhear me and offer up some information about Jen. I have my suspicions. I’m guessing she fled to Sacramento early, but I want confirmation.
And then I want to go to Sac and find her so I can bring her back here. To her home, where she belongs.
With me.
“Don’t you dare curse at me, Colin. I know you’re my boss, but that gives you no right to talk to me like that.” Fable sighs, sounding completely put out that I’m calling her, but I really don’t give a shit. “Listen, it’s my day off and I don’t have time to deal with you right now. I’m exhausted. Maybe we can talk about this tomorrow.”
She’s being just as rude as I am. I can tell when she’s trying to avoid something and she is most definitely trying to avoid me. The little sneak. She knows everything—I can feel it in my bones. “Did you help her leave this morning?”
Finding Jen gone, her stuff packed up and her bedroom empty, made me lose my shit. As in, I threw a framed picture of Danny and me against the wall, the glass shattering all over the floor. I’d felt only a hint of satisfaction at destroying something before the remorse kicked in.
And the sadness. Then the anger.
Jesus, I really know how to fuck things up.
Fable is silent for so long I’m afraid she hung up, until she finally says one, simple word.
“Yes.”
Okay. Now we’re getting somewhere. “Tell me where you took her, Fable. I need to know. I need to find her.”
“Why, so you can chase her down and force her to come back to work for you after you fired her? Pretend that everything is exactly the same? Because it’s so not and you know it.” She pauses. “I know what she told you, Colin. What she did. She admitted everything to me. And you’re being a complete jackass for not accepting her in spite of it. It shouldn’t matter. It’s all a part of her past. You need to forget about it and focus on the present.”
Damn it, she sounds just like Danny in my dream. I know Fable is right, but I can’t help myself. It both breaks my heart and fills me with uncontrollable rage, what Jen’s done. How she cheapened herself when she’s worth so much more. “I know. You’re right,” I murmur. “So if I’m going to accept what happened and fight to bring her back here, I need to know where she is. I need you to tell me.”
“I took her to the bus station,” Fable admits grudgingly, her voice soft. “She was going to Sacramento. She got it all arranged with her new roomie and she’s moving in early.”
Just as I thought, but I need more.
“And where does her new roommate live? What part of the city?”
“That I’m not sure. She mentioned Citrus Heights, I think, but I don’t know. One of those suburbs out there that’s close to Sacramento. That’s as far as it went, though, information-wise.”
“And what about her address? Did you get that?” It’s a long shot, but I have to ask.
“No.” Fable sighs. “I told her to text me when she got there and she said she would, but she hasn’t. And she should’ve been there by now.”
Worry claws at my throat. Jen bought a new cell; she’d picked it up yesterday afternoon before work. I already tried to call her. Text her. Multiple times. I left her a few pleading, desperate voice-mail messages. She hasn’t responded to any of them. And that stupid, useless note she left on my pillow, for the love of God, had been nothing. Just remembering it pisses me off.
Thank you for everything you did for me. You mean more to me than you’ll ever know. I’ll miss you.
Take care,
Jen
She signed it fucking Take care. What the hell? I don’t even merit a Love, Jen. She didn’t even acknowledge me by name.
“Have you talked to her? She hasn’t answered any of my calls or texts,” I say, running a hand through my hair.
“I’ve tried. She hasn’t answered my calls or texts either.” She sounds downright exasperated. Great. The feeling’s mutual. “I’m worried too, you know. I didn’t want to take her to the bus station. I tried my best to convince her to stay.”
I know Fable’s telling the truth. She didn’t want Jen to leave either. “Let me know if you hear from her, okay? And I’ll do the same for you.”
“Okay. Yeah, that sounds good.” She sighs. “I’m sorry I yelled at you, Colin. I’m just worried about her.”
“So am I.” I hang up before I say something really stupid and pitiful, glancing up at my open doorway to find my dad standing there, looking almost afraid to come inside.
Great. He’s the absolute last person I want to see. “Weren’t you leaving to go see Mom?” I ask.
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