by April Smyth
I flip my body over and raise my eyes to meet his. Oliver wipes away the stray tears with his thumbs then rests a hand on my shoulder. ‘Talk to me, Cassie,’ he says but I don’t want to talk anymore. I want to succumb to the desire which rises with every breath I take.
I clasp the neckline of his shirt and give him a knowing look. I am done with words. I am ready to taste his lips again. He shoots me a confused expression. He asks me if this is what I want with his eyes; I run my fingers along his collarbone and slide my teeth across my bottom lip as confirmation. I watch him gulp and it makes me smile to know how nervous I am making him. The vulnerable look in his brown eyes only makes me want him more. I push my face closer to his but pause, teasing, to let the warmth of our mingling breaths entice him. It works. He moves his hand from my shoulder down my arm and rests it on my hip then he lets out a shaky breath of anticipation. I grin at him then press my lips against his.
At first our lips move in perfect unison. It’s gentle, not passionate like kissing Maurice, not hungry and hopeless like kissing Gabe. It is sensually slow as if we have all the time in the world. His hand moves from the safe position on my hip and starts to explore my upper thigh. The jeans I am wearing feel constricting. I want them off and I want to feel his fingertips electrify my bare skin.
My hands wander underneath his shirt and they glide across his solid body. The kissing builds as his tongue and mine meet. My temperature rises. There is no way he is teasing me then letting me go this time. I won’t allow it.
Quickly, I tug off his jeans and throw them off the bed. He pulls mine off with ease. His legs are stalky and I squeeze a brilliantly muscular thigh. I love the way he feels underneath my fingers. His fingers are slipping underneath the elastic waistband of my pants. My lips stray from his mouth and onto his neck. I am overcome with longing. It has been months since I have felt the heat of a man and the intensity is doubled as I know it is real this time. Every fiery look and every shudder down my spine is my own emotions and not manipulated like it had been with Maurice.
His hands move away from the waistband. Tease, I think scornfully. They make their way underneath my top and his fingertips make small circles on my fleshy stomach and up to my breasts where they linger. I would normally feel nervous at someone feeling the bits I’m most insecure about so intimately but I am too lost in the moment to care and I get the impression that he likes these bits I hate. He grunts with pleasure.
There is a small pause between my kissing and his touching while he adjusts himself. His body moves even closer to mine. He is hanging over me like a cage and I can feel his desire pulsating against my body and suddenly I feel sick.
‘This isn’t right, Oliver,’ I blurt out with a twisted expression on my face.
Why am I saying this? What am I doing? I can’t remember the last time something ever felt this right. My head knows that I want this and Oliver wants this. We may not have known each other for long and it might be ridiculous but it is natural and it is wonderful and I want it so badly but my heart is saying another thing. I remind myself of the guilt, of how I would feel if I knew Gabe had his lips pressed against another girls and I want to cry. Gabe isn’t my boyfriend. He doesn’t even know my name but I am bound to him and I won’t be unfaithful.
‘What do you mean?’ Oliver asks. I can still feel how ready he is, he is pushing his hard body against me and it is making it difficult to keep Gabe at the forefront of my mind. His breathing is still hot and heavy from the build up. He wants this. Was this really the right time for me to go all noble?
I make a poor endeavour at explaining myself, ‘I mean one minute I am crying and I swear I can hear my heart breaking then the next I am like this this predator and all I want to do is jump on you,’ I speak quickly. ‘I miss Gabe so much. I love him. I am in love with him...’ I’m not sure if it is Oliver I am telling this to or whether I am reminding myself.
Oliver’s body deflates and he pulls away from me. His face is stony. I can understand why he is angry. Hell, I’m mad too. All this flirting and teasing since we met. I wasn’t alone in this. He is to blame too. We both knew from the outset how fucked up I am yet he continued to flash those boyish grins my way and lace everything he said with a sexual innuendo.
‘I really like you, Oliver,’ I say softly but I know my affection is a consolation prize at the moment. I can’t bear to see the sad look on his face in case I change my mind again. I know I couldn’t live with myself if I was to give myself to Oliver today. It’s just not right.
‘I really like you too, Cassie,’ is all he says before he gets up in a swift movement, pulls his jeans up and walks out of the room.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. I mash the heels of my hands into my eyes to stop the tears. Stop crying. It’s my turn to storm out of the bedroom. Stupid. I should never have made a move on Oliver but wasn’t I going to do it all along? I throw myself at every guy that comes my way. I say I don’t depend on men, on their affection, but it is all I crave. I fell into Maurice’s haunting, vampiric eyes, into his strong arms and ultimately into his bed without a second thought about his vampirism and how it would affect me. What about Gabe? I have devoted so much of my life to a man who I barely know and who doesn’t know me at all anymore. Smart move, Cassie.
Now Oliver? I met him four days ago and he has given me some hope. He has made me laugh and made me trust that there are good people out there but I have already hurt him and hurt myself in the process.
I have lost track of where my feet have taken me and I am back in the cabin in the woods. Oliver hasn’t followed me. Understandably, I’ve upset him. I am glad I can’t see the rejected expression on his face and know that I lead him and hurt his feelings.
In my heart, I know I am right. I want to be with Gabe and I miss him. I am misplacing all these intense emotions and instead of allowing myself to grieve I am focusing my attention on Oliver. In my head, I know that it wouldn’t hurt to feel warm and wanted again. I really do like Oliver. It is insanity to say that after knowing him for such a short space of time but I always knew I was crazy for Gabe from the moment I met him but it took me such a long time to admit it. I am afraid of letting feelings pass me by again because sometimes you don’t get the chance to make up for lost time.
EIGHT
I lie crying in the bed that I have shared with Oliver every night since I arrived but this time he isn’t around to comfort me and even if he was I don’t think he would offer me much solace. He is half the reason I am crying at all. Isn’t he? Perhaps he is just the catalyst which has made me realise how truly pathetic I am? I always thought I was a strong woman, or at least I always aimed to be one, but I feel like I’ve failed myself. I’ve spent the last year swinging from the arms of one man to another’s. Can’t I just be happy with myself and stop pining after boys to cure the pain?
I wanted to travel the world, drive fast cars, seduce vampires wearing long gowns and deep red lipstick. I guess I always dreamed I could be like Rose. When I first met her I envied her obvious beauty, her elegance and charm and her cosmopolitan lifestyle. I learned that it wasn’t all that it was cracked up to be though. Rose lost the love her life to her perilous lifestyle, her parents were dead and her only brother was disabled and needed her financial care for the rest of his life. Not to mention the fact that she devotes all of her time now to fixing my problems.
Right now, I long for stability. If I am going to feel sad I wish I could just feel it or if I’m going to be happy I wish my brain would just let me embrace the happiness. Instead I am stuck in a perpetual wave of emotions. The tide comes in and out; the heart wrenching sorrow of losing Gabe and worrying about my family ebbs and flows. Lust replaces sadness which is then overthrown by rage. I just want to feel the same thing for more than ten minutes and understand how, and why, my life has come to this.
Although I know it’s awkward and I don’t really want to see him, I did expect Oliver to make sure I am okay. We may be letting stupid feelings get in th
e way of the fun we have been having but Oliver still has a job to do: to keep me safe and happy. Rose asked him to look after me while Maurice is on the loose and caring for someone is more than just making sure they don’t die. Maybe that is all he should do, I wonder, he won’t want to check up on me because that deepens this bond that has already gotten too complicated. I resolve to a distanced relationship being a good idea after all. The friendship is nice in theory but my emotional instability prevents it from being ‘just friends’ so if he can just focus on keeping me alive, keeping the vampires at bay, and not coming near me in the process, then it is better for everybody.
My stomach growls loudly which is surprising because I had totally gorged myself with June’s chocolate cake. The fridge which looks like a time machine is surprisingly well stocked. This cabin feels like the land that time forgot so it is hard to imagine being able to live in here but obviously Oliver and June prepared for my arrival by putting food in the fridge. I shiver. I just wish they could have fixed the heating too.
I grab a yoghurt and sit on the bed with a huge sigh. I feel empty now. Am I supposed to miss Gabe and Rose and my family? Am I supposed to be afraid of Maurice and fearing that my life is going to end soon? Am I supposed to be embarrassed about throwing myself at Oliver in such a plight of desperation then rejecting him at the last minute? I am completely void of all these thoughts and feelings that maybe I should have and instead I focus on taking small spoonfuls of strawberry yoghurt.
When I hear the door of the cabin open with an eery creak, I am prepared for an awkward conversation. Oliver has been in my life for less than a week and already we have shared a bed, kissed, almost had sex, shared some secrets, laughed more than I’ve laughed with anyone and now I’m going to have to have an ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ talk. But it’s the truth! It’s not Oliver, no matter how much I’d like to put the blame on him.
I look up and elation explodes inside of me to see a familiar face. ‘Rose!’ I yell. I bound up off the bed, discarding my yoghurt on the ground, and wrap my arms around my old friend.
She embraces me tightly and I start to sob as I take in her unchanged perfumed scent and the familiar curves of her body. It has been half a year since I said goodbye to the only best friend I’ve ever had. I can’t believe she’s really here.
We pull away and take a few seconds to stare at each other with wide smiles on our faces. Can this be real?
‘I can’t believe you’re here,’ I say breathlessly.
While I am an emotional wreck, Rose remains composed. I wouldn’t expect anything less from her. She is a beacon in the worst situations and, although she’s been through a lot of tough situations in her life, she remains the most optimistic person I know.
‘It’s so good to see you, Cassie,’ she smiles at me. ‘But you look like shit.’
The harmonious sound of our laughter brightens the dullness of my day. I can’t wait to talk to Rose and finally explain to someone how I am feeling, how conflicted I am and, most of all, how much I’ve missed her. She has always helped me see the positive sides of bad situations and calmed my frayed nerves. She helped me see sense when it came to Gabe and Maurice so maybe she can do the same with Oliver. She guided me when I was more lost than ever. Being with her now I know that those phone calls over the past six months have not been enough. I needed to see her beautiful face and feel her radiating optimism.
‘Thanks,’ I laugh through the joyful tears.
‘I suppose you have an excuse,’ she cocks her head to the side and smiles. A part of me wishes she showed the hardships of an awful year in the same way that I do but she still looks effortlessly beautiful. I might be a Healer, I might not wrinkle or bruise but there is a haunted look in my eyes that no amount of my special blood could cure. Meanwhile, Rose is radiant. There are caramel highlights in her dark wavy hair which glimmer even in this dimly lit room. Her skin is still soft and like coffee with extra cream and her figure still to die for dressed in another stunning dress. How does she find time to shop when she is trying to capture and kill a vampire?
Once the initial shock of seeing my friend wears off reality kicks in. She has a lot to tell me. Where is Maurice? Are the witches going to help? Has he found Claire yet? What about Gabe? Oh Gabe. A part of me wants her to tell me everything about him. I want to know how he looks and if he’s enjoying his newly blissfully ignorant life but the question lodges in my throat as usual. I can never bring myself to ask her when I’m so terrified of the answer.
‘How are you keeping, Cassie?’ She pauses. ‘Do you like Oliver?’
There is an element of knowing in her voice as she asks the second question. Has she spoken to Oliver yet? Has he mentioned our flirting to her on the phone when I’ve not been around? Does she sense that something has happened? Maybe the question is purely innocent but Rose has a way of sniffing out gossip wherever she goes especially when it comes to me. She has a Cassie-radar. She knew about my strong attachment to Gabe long before I did.
I hesitate to answer and become unnerved quickly. I want to tell her about my crazy feelings for Oliver but I don’t know how. I need to get them out in the open because Rose will know what to do, right? Then I feel sick at the thought of seeing my words painting a horrid picture in front of me. How do I tell her that I want to sleep with a man I’ve only just met when her whole life revolves around just keeping me alive right now? Won’t it sound selfish? How do I explain that, while she is supporting the idea of Gabe and I being made for one another, I am considering that maybe he’s not the only one for me?
‘He’s nice,’ I nod. I resolve that we can talk about Oliver later. T§here are bigger topics to discuss. ‘Why are you here? Not that I don’t want you to be... I’m so glad you’re here but how? Why?’
She smiles at me, ‘God, I’ve missed your worrying and your insanely fast speaking pace, Cassie.’
I frown. Now isn’t the time to tease me. She and Gabe had a way of turning any opportunity into making me feel ridiculous. Being around Rose reminds me of him so much, I think with a sigh. When she smiles, I see his smile at the back of my mind. The murky vision of his eyes that I was losing grip of suddenly become clearer with her presence.
‘Arrow is in America with the other witches. I went with her for a while but I’m not much use there. Apparently, they have Maurice on a tight leash and they know where Claire is too. Luckily for us, he’s no where near her. Yet.’
‘That’s amazing,’ I grin. Is it possible that we could win this? That I might come out of this alive? I had resigned myself to a horrible outcome. My only question had been how long it was before everything I know and love was destroyed but Rose’s words are giving me hope.
I watch Rose carefully as she tells me about the progress she and Arrow have made. She tucks her hair behind her ears and waves her hands around emphatically. I have missed her and the way she brings happiness into every room no matter how dismal it is. The only thing I resent about her being here is how much she reminds me of him I associate them so closely together and it is difficult to unbind them and know that she’s here but he is not.
For a while, I have no time to think about Oliver. I am consumed by Rose’s presence and thoughts of Gabe. I want him back. Even if he has lost his memory I still want him in my life. To, at least, know that he is okay. Maybe I could see him and tell him our whole story and help him realise that we are supposed to be together. Maybe I could help him regain some memories. He is still Gabe and I have to fight for him, don’t I? I can’t just give up because of this. That’s what Maurice would want. Right?
Rose notices that I have gone off into a daydream, ‘I think I know what you’re thinking about, Cassie, or should I say who...’
There is a potent sadness in her usually cheerful voice. Are we really ready to talk about this? I haven’t been able to really talk about Gabe since I left him. Once or time I’ve been able to verbalise what haunts every minute of every day but most times that Oliver has mentioned him
the words stick in my throat. There have been countless times I’ve wanted to ask Rose on the phone how Gabe is but I have never been able to. It hurts too much to vocalise the torment I’ve been feeling inwardly for the past six months. Six torturous months where I have pretended to be normal and held the hand of a boy I never think about when all I have wanted was to be wrapped up in Gabe’s arms and laughing at his silly, broody expression on that lovely face of his. I dig my nails into the palms of my hands as I think about running my fingers through that shaggy dark mop of hair of his and kissing his cheek goodnight.
‘We can’t ignore it forever,’ she says and she holds my hand.
‘Why not?’ I groan. I’m not ignoring it. There is no way I could ever ignore Gabe. His memory is omnipresent; it haunts me and fills me with more dread than the fear of Maurice does. No life at all seems less terrifying than a life without Gabe in it.
‘Because you love him and you miss him and so do I and I’ve called you on the phone for six months and not once have you mentioned his name.’
‘Neither of you,’ I choke.
Hearing her tell me I love him leaves a stabbing sensation in my chest. I do love him so, so much. I loved him even when he was a vomiting mess. I loved him even when he was a total asshole to me, even when I thought he had mowed me down with his car for the fun of it. Because I knew there was more than just the bad boy with a sarcastic, acidic tongue in a black leather jacket. I knew beneath that he had was capable of the greatest love. I believe love is more magical and powerful than any vampire, witch or werewolf I will ever encounter. It has seized me, controlled me, bewitched me far more than any not-so-mythical creature ever could.