Toxic

by Rachel Van Dyken

  Saylor sniffled against my chest, not raising her head. “I’m so sorry. I just—”

  “What?”

  “You found the one. At the right time. The girl you loved. The girl you wanted everything with. You were so brave, so… raw. You gave her everything and…” Saylor’s breath hitched. “Looking at pictures of you guys together… it destroys me, Gabe. It’s not fair.”

  I closed my eyes and held her tighter. “I know.”

  “It’s not fair,” she repeated. “It’s not fair that I’m here and she isn’t. It’s not fair that you have to show me your house and that she can’t be the one to make cookies for you every Christmas. She’s never going to come through those doors and walk into your embrace. That is never going to happen.”

  I fought the tears clogging in my throat. “I know.”

  “I feel unworthy,” Saylor whispered. “To see this. To be with you. It should be her.”

  “You’re not unworthy.” I stroked her arm. “I’m sharing this with you. You, Saylor.” I pried her away from my chest so I could look into her clear blue eyes. “The thing about life? It never goes as planned. But, right now, in this moment, with you in my arms. I wouldn’t want it any other way. Please believe me when I say that. This moment — it’s a gift. Just by being here, you’re making that pain a little less sharp.”

  A tear slid down her cheek.

  “Number four,” Saylor whispered.

  “What?” I watched her lips as she spoke.

  “Tear number four. You just made up for it.”

  “By making you cry more?” I touched my forehead to hers.

  “No.” Saylor cupped the back of my head. “By understanding the tears in the first place.”

  With a shaky voice I answered, “They weren’t because of me.”

  “No.”

  “They’re for me.”

  “Yeah. A tear for a tear,” she said softly. “Isn’t that what you said?”

  I didn’t trust myself to speak. I could only nod as I watched the flames lick wildly in the fireplace.

  After a few minutes of silence, I looked down at Saylor. Her hot little dress and high heels were still on.

  We were alone in an amazing house that I hadn’t visited in four years.

  And we were sitting on a couch.

  Depressed.

  “Am I the worst date ever?” I blurted.

  Saylor’s head jerked up, a watery smile appeared, “Well…”

  “No more tears.” I got up and marched toward the kitchen. “You’ve seen the house. You know the story. Now we’re going to be awesome.”

  “Oh?” Her eyebrows shot up as her gaze followed me into the kitchen.

  I didn’t really know my way around anywhere, but I did know that the staff had stocked food in the pantry and that a few menus for takeout were lying around just in case we got hungry.

  “Next person who cries has to run around outside naked,” I declared, lifting the menus into the air.

  Saylor tilted her head. “You do realize that just makes me want you to cry right?”

  I smirked. “There are easier ways to get me naked, honey.”

  She blushed and looked down at her hands.

  “Aw, the pink pony’s making a comeback,” I teased.

  Saylor crossed her arms, and lifted her head, eyes sparkling with indignation. “It was purple.”

  “A pony’s a pony — you still ride it.”

  Saylor’s face flamed red.

  “Gotcha.” I winked.

  “You’re too confident for your own good.” She scowled.

  “Does the fact that I slept with my rat next to my bed until he died make me any less confident sounding?”

  “No.”

  “I hate spiders?” I offered. “And I’m slightly terrified of them?”

  Saylor took a few steps toward my spot in the kitchen. “How afraid? Like if a small spider skittered across the floor, what would happen?”

  “I’d scream and squash its hairy ass.”

  “Hmm.” She tapped her chin and took a few more steps, “And if I put a spider in your bed?”

  “I’d weep,” I answered honestly. “Honest to God tears. And then I’d scream and squash its hairy ass.”

  She flashed a grin and leaned against the counter, which meant her entire body was outlined by the back glow of the fireplace. I swallowed the dryness in my throat. “And if I was dressed as a spider?”

  My eyes didn’t leave hers when I answered, “I’d pin you against the floor, strip the costume off and then attempt not to squash your very pretty, gorgeous, infuriating ass.”

  I wasn’t sure who reached for whom first.

  But all of a sudden our bodies collided, our mouths met in a frenzy. I lifted her onto the countertop as she wrapped her legs around my waist. With a moan, her body trembled beneath my touch. I cupped her face with one hand while I steadied her body with the other. I wanted to kiss her until my lips were sore, until my mouth was swollen, until my body was spent, so basically I wanted to kiss her until forever.

  This kiss was different.

  A lifetime of kisses — and nothing compared to her mouth, her touch, her taste.

  It was shattering to realize how incredible of a pull another human being could have on someone — just by touching them.

  But Saylor wasn’t just touching me, she was enveloping me with her body, she wasn’t just kissing me, she was sharing her soul with me. Saylor was showing me what words couldn’t express.

  Her tongue drove me wild as it swirled around mine — I dug my hand into her hair grabbing a fistful of it as I tried to pull her tighter against my body.

  Saylor’s arms tightened around my neck as the sensation of our bodies colliding, rubbing against each other, nearly had me passing out.

  Every touch was like getting permanently branded.

  She pulled back, her eyes glazed.

  I stared at her.

  She stared at me.

  Weird how people can communicate without saying one damn word. Saylor, slowly, pried herself from my body and hopped off the counter, then grabbed my hand and dragged me to the couch.

  I followed. There wasn’t any other option.

  When we reached the couch. I didn’t hesitate to pull her into my arms and fall backward onto it so that she was on top of me.

  We started kissing again.

  This time slower. I took my time tasting her, exploring every inch of her mouth until I thought I was going to go insane. She responded to my every touch, with little sighs.

  It was killing me.

  “Say…” I nipped her upper lip.

  “Don’t stop,” she whispered. “New memories, Gabe. In this house, just you and me.”

  I pushed the ghosts of Kimmy away from my mind and focused on the present. Focused on Saylor, and only Saylor, as we kept kissing. I pushed my hand against her stomach, brushing my knuckles against her ribs. Saylor gasped. I tore my mouth away from hers, making eye contact with her briefly before she tangled her hands in my hair and pulled me hard against her mouth again. Another kiss, this one stronger, hungrier, deeper. Her mouth moved from my mouth to my ear, her hot breath giving me chills all the way down my spine. I was consumed by her, each touch and kiss made it harder for me to keep clothing between us — when all I wanted was to make her mine.

  My hands pushed against her bare skin, inching higher and higher, a soft moan escaped. My body cried out, and I slowly pulled back the pressure of my kiss, because as hard as it was, each kiss also reminded me that I wouldn’t be giving Saylor everything I had — because I wasn’t in possession of everything right now.

  Because how could I truly take from Saylor? How could I truly give myself to her? When part of my heart was still missing?

  And that was the problem.

  My heart had never been engaged with other girls and one night stands. But with Saylor? I was pretty sure had I had my heart in the palm of my hand I would have handed it to her then lain prostrate on
the floor. Just hoping, begging, for her to accept it even though it didn’t look like other hearts. Even though it was damaged.

  Saylor’s hands dug into the sides of my body as she moved on top of me. H-o-o-ly shit. This wasn’t going to end well.

  “Say—” I was cut off by another kiss. “Saylor, we can’t. I can’t sleep with you.”

  She pulled back, a smile forming at her swollen mouth, “Who said anything about sleep?”

  “No.” Why the hell was my face heating up? “I mean we can’t have sex.”

  Her smile returned. “Did I tell you I was going to have sex with you?”

  “Well… no.” Damn it.

  “So?” She leaned down until her breasts were brushing against my chest. Hell. Turn on the AC already. Great plan, Gabe. A fireplace? What was I thinking?

  “So.” I licked my lips. “I’m confused.”

  “You ever make out?” She kissed me softly. “Do you ever just kiss to kiss?”

  “No.”

  “You should.” She brushed another kiss on my neck. I groaned, grabbing her body and pulling her hard against me. “Sometimes, the appetizers are better than the main course.”

  At that, I laughed. “Oh yeah? Prove it.” I put my hands behind my head and winked.

  “Rule number one.” She traced the outline of my jaw with her finger. “Never let your guard down.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because I may just take you up on your offer.” With a smirk she pushed up my shirt and started licking.

  Licking.

  She was licking me.

  And I was liking it.

  Way. Too. Much.

  “Say—”

  And then she bit me, right where she’d licked me. There was sucking, something that I could only describe as swirling even though I knew it sounded insane. And more kissing.

  I fought to keep my hips from driving toward her — from making this more than just kissing.

  Her teeth nipped at my lower stomach where my jeans met skin, and then that damn tongue of hers went to work again.

  I couldn’t focus on anything because my vision kept going blurry, so I closed my eyes.

  Her hands dipped behind me, gripping my ass and then gripping harder as her fingers dug into flesh and then started to slowly massage.

  Erotic, yes. Relaxing, even more so.

  And before I knew it. I was getting sleepy. Not because I wasn’t as turned on as hell, but because she was just — everywhere. I felt her everywhere. I was like a fat happy cow before getting sacrificed. No doubt about it, I was going to most likely explode from want.

  But in that moment… I savored every damn touch.

  And allowed myself to succumb — to her.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Funny — I’d never realized how stressed out Gabe was until I finally saw him resting. His face was slack, his jaw unclenched. He was male beauty personified — and all mine. For now, at least. For now, he was mine. —Saylor

  Saylor

  The bastard fell asleep.

  I laughed softly and tucked my body next to his on the couch. My stomach was grumbling, but I decided to nap for a bit with him before ordering food. The minute my head fell against his chest, he wrapped his arms around me.

  Gabe’s mouth found mine again.

  We kissed, lazily kissed, neither one of us reached for each other, we merely lay there and let our lips graze and nip at one another.

  It felt beautiful.

  If our first kiss was a chaotic symphony exploding with all the wrong notes in the wrong places — our third kiss? Our fourth? Were a song. A very pretty, perfectly played, song.

  “I miss her,” he whispered against my hair. “I miss her so much. How can I be so happy to be with you, to be in your arms? How can I want you so badly? Yet still miss her?” Gabe’s eyes didn’t open, if anything he squeezed them shut tighter and pulled me against him.

  “Because…” I played with his golden hair, in the firelight it looked like a halo. “She was your first love, and every day you see her face you’re reminded that although she’s still here — she isn’t.”

  Gabe sighed. “I feel like my heart’s getting ripped in two. I feel like one day you’re going to wake up and realize that this drama isn’t worth it. That I’m not worth it. Saylor, tell me tomorrow things won’t be different.”

  “But they will be.” I sighed and tucked the hair behind his ear. “Because the skeletons are finally gone, the scales from people’s eyes are going to eventually be lifted, and you’re going to have to make a choice.”

  He shuddered. “I would never choose her over you.”

  “But Gabe…” I felt the tears well in my eyes. “You already have. Even if it wasn’t on purpose — you already have.”

  His eyes flashed open. I could tell he wanted to argue with me just by the way his eyes bored into mine as if pleading for me to take it back. But that’s the thing with truth — once you speak it out loud…

  It’s out there.

  He kissed my forehead. “I could love you.”

  “So you keep saying.” I offered a sad smile. “But for what it’s worth. I could love you too.”

  We didn’t eat.

  We spent the rest of the night kissing, falling asleep, only to wake up kissing again. I had no idea what time it even was. The house felt like a fairy tale. I imagined if we stayed there forever we’d be happy — we’d still be kissing — and we’d be happy, but that wasn’t life.

  The universe must have heard my thoughts because Gabe’s cell started buzzing in his pocket.

  With a curse he pulled it out. “Hey, Wes, sorry… fell asleep.”

  Gabe closed his eyes and let out a long sigh.

  “What channel?”

  Dread exploded all over my body as Gabe slowly rose from the couch, walked over to the large flatscreen, and grabbed the remote.

  Color invaded the living room.

  The picture on the screen took my breath away. It was one of Kimmy before the accident, so full of life, so gorgeous it hurt to look at her. And then a photo of Ashton Hyde.

  And finally a photo of Gabe’s family with the caption. “Devastated Father finally reaches out to long lost son.”

  “He’s finally come home!” Gabe’s dad said on the TV screen. “The prodigal has returned after our insistence that he allow us to be a part of his life again. We’re so saddened that he felt the need to go to such extremes to push us and the rest of his beloved friends and fans from his life. But know this, Ashton Hyde.” His dad stared through the TV screen. “Nothing will ever be the same. Now that you’ve returned — we won’t ever let you go.”

  Gabe sank to the floor on his knees.

  I ran to him, wrapping my arms around him as I rocked him back and forth. “It’s going to be fine,” I whispered. Even though I knew it was a lie. The thing about lies? They only work if the other person doesn’t know the truth. And we both knew.

  Nothing. Would ever. Be the same.

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Life was passing me by. I was alive, but not awake. I hadn’t been awake in a really long time. Funny, I thought the prince was supposed to wake Sleeping Beauty. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined that I wasn’t the dragon or the prince. But the one in need of a rescue so epic — that my world shattered. The scary thing about waking up? You’re reminded how much of your life was a nightmare — and again remember why you went to sleep in the first place. —Gabe H.

  Gabe

  The lights had never bothered me. They flashed in my face, made me feel like I was going to have a seizure, but it was a necessary evil. People had a fascination with pictures — because then they could fantasize about what it would be like to be with me, to see me in the flesh.

  I swore to destroy every last picture of myself. But when that didn’t work. I destroyed the perfect image they had of me. It was the only way.

  And now I was regretting it.

  Because the Ashton Hyde th
ey wanted to take pictures of? He didn’t exist anymore.

  But for the first time in four years, I was okay with that. I was okay with myself… who I was.

  I gripped Saylor’s hand in mine as we drove toward the group home. After watching the morning news show. I knew things would get crazy with the media. I needed to make sure that everything would be set up to protect Princess from reporters.

  Wes, being Wes, said he was already on top of things, which I could only assume meant he’d called his dad and brought in the US Army or something equally huge. He didn’t do anything half-assed. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if the SWAT team was standing outside the group home with Tasers set.

  Saylor didn’t say much, but I kept squeezing her hand. I wasn’t sure if it was because I needed comfort or because I was trying to comfort her. Her lips were drawn into a smile, but I could tell she was putting on a face for me.

  Which sucked, because how many times had I been on the offering end of that same smile? Giving a fake smile in order to make people feel good? Felt like hell.

  “We’re here.” I pulled the BMW into the parking spot. Both of us were still wearing our clothes from the night before. When Wes had called it was five in the morning and I’d wanted to get to the home right away.

  “We are.” Saylor looked around.

  The sun was just beginning to rise over the Sound. There were only two or three reporters in front of the Home. No doubt, hundreds would be staked out later.

  “I want to stay in the car,” I admitted. “I want to turn around and go back to the house and lock myself in there with you.”

  Saylor turned and looked at me, her fake smile turning real, revealing her perfect pink mouth. “Let’s pretend.”

  “Alright.” I wasn’t sure what she was getting at.

  “We met at college,” Saylor began, licking her lips. “We collided in the hallway and immediately hated each other.”

  “Because you were snarky.” I smirked.

  She giggled. “Only because you were cocky and made fun of me.”