eyond Desire Collection

by JS Scott, M Malone, Marie Hall, et al

  “I’ve been here every day.”

  Every day? My heart stutters at that. “How long have I been here?”

  She crosses her legs and taps her finger on mine. I noticed her doing that at the bar the other night. She does it when she’s nervous. Is she nervous now?

  “Five days.”

  I frown. “What?”

  “The doctors had to give you so much blood.” Her voice breaks and I have a terrible thought.

  Please God, tell me she wasn’t…

  “When I found you,” she continues, “you lost so much. You needed a lot, Ryan.”

  I focus on only one thing. Closing my eyes, I pull my hand out of hers. It’s one thing to try to off myself, it’s another to have a stranger know one of the darkest secrets about you.

  She wraps her hands together and clenches them to her chest.

  “You found me?” My voice is dead, flat. But inside I’m angry.

  I can’t even die right.

  “Why would you do that?” she asks me, as if she has a right to know.

  And maybe she does. Maybe the person who brings you back from death has the right to know why they did it in the first place. But if she knew the truth, she’d have let me die. Nothing like me deserves to live.

  I roll my face to the side.

  Sighing, she gets up from her chair. I can hear her pacing. I’m so aware of her every move. I can close my eyes right now and describe her down to exacting detail.

  From the tiny cleft in her jaw, to the green eyes, to the thick dark hair, even to the three freckles she’s got scattered across the bridge of her nose, and how when it gets cold in a room, her nipples bead up into tiny points. Points I try hard to not get caught staring at, but I can’t help it. They’re perfect. She’s perfect.

  Fuck.

  I’m a mess.

  “Alex told me you’re going to have to go under psychiatric evaluation.”

  I laugh. Been there, done that. It’s why I got politely booted from the damn Marines to begin with.

  Too much baggage. Not worth saving. Get the hell out.

  Of course, the military could have gone the route of a dishonorable discharge, but I’d had a sergeant who cared. Told me it would have gone on my record and screwed up any chance I had on the outside to get a decent job. So they did everything they could to make sure I didn’t walk out with that mark against me.

  Because even though I’m a fighter, no one likes to spar with a psycho nut job. Who knows what they’ll do next? Right?

  “Yeah, I figured,” I finally say, knowing I’m in for twelve weeks of psychobabble shit that won’t fix a damn thing. It never does.

  She walks back to me and when she stares down, I can’t explain it, but I feel longing and hope and am so damn confused I want to suck my thumb and cry like a baby.

  Then she runs her fingers through my hair. “Get better, Ryan. He really loves you. You have one life, whatever happened to you, whoever did that to you… Don’t let them win.”

  I still, every ounce of oxygen in my body literally seems to seep out my pores. She’ll never know just how close to home she’s hit.

  “You’re worth so much more than this.”

  With those last words, she exits my life.

  I know I’ll never see her again and that thought is crippling.

  Chapter Six

  Liliana

  May

  Everything’s changed since the night I found him. And yet, things stay the same.

  It’s been three months.

  I know because I count them down on the calendar. I’m not obsessed with him.

  Or maybe I am, but I don’t really think that’s it either. Ryan and I had a convergence; we met in a place and time that would forever leave an indelible mark in the road map of my life.

  It’s more than just my attraction to him. He’s mentally unstable—that’s clearly obvious and not something I need to bring into my life, or Javi’s. But I haven’t been like this about anyone. Ever.

  Not even Javi’s dad—which, at fourteen, feelings can be pretty intense.

  I thought I’d loved him. And he’d sworn he loved me. Until the baby came. Then it was hasta luego, it’s been good knowing ya. I cried rivers for nine months straight. I’m sure the pregnancy hormones didn’t help. But with time and age I realized what a little loser I’d slept with and am now happy he’s no longer a part of our lives.

  I haven’t even been back to Chai Time. Maybe that makes me spineless. But that night haunts me. Seeing him in the tub, slumped forward, all that blood everywhere.

  And then that morning in the hospital room, his voice soft, his eyes troubled, and I’d asked him why. I saw the flash of hurt, the agony of a memory that plagued him still.

  I don’t think it’s a girl.

  A broken heart doesn’t do that to a person.

  When Javier’s father had finally dumped me, I cried and wouldn’t eat and hid in a dark room, but I didn’t want to kill myself. When I crawled out of there, I came out stronger.

  But Ryan’s demons are dark and dangerous and something I’m terrified to get involved with. Problem is… I think I already am. Because I can’t stop wondering, can’t stop trying to make sense of the madness that was that night. Why had he done it? What had forced him to a point in his life that he really thought he had no other choice?

  Why?

  Why?

  Why?

  Stepping out of the shower, I run my hand across the steamed-up mirror. My cheeks are pink; hair clings to my face.

  And maybe part of the reason I can never seem to forget him is the fact that I always have to shower. Though my bathroom is full of butterflies and flowers, I don’t see any of those things. All I see is a white fluttering curtain, wet tile, and blood.

  “Apúrate, mija,” my mother calls, urging me to hurry. “You’ll be late for class. Ade made tortillas.”

  “Coming, Mama.” Turning my back on the mirror, I hurriedly dress in a pair of white shorts and a light yellow halter top.

  After breakfast I turn to my son. He’s dressed, sitting on the ground, and flipping through a comic book. My heart pitter patters at the sight of his soft wet curls around the nape of his neck.

  Thank God he looks nothing like his father.

  A half-eaten peanut butter sandwich sits on a plate next to his booted foot.

  “Baby, you ready for school?”

  He stops turning the pages and looks up, his eyes halting at my chest. Javi never looks in my eyes.

  Putting on a brave face, I turn to Ade and Mom. “Okay, I’m off. Wish me luck. Today I get to articulate a skeleton.”

  “Didn’t you do that before?” Mom asks.

  I shrug on my backpack. “Yeah, but I did that freshman year. I think they want to make sure we haven’t forgotten. Anyway.” I kiss my fingers and blow the kiss at them.

  “C’mon, baby.” I hold out my hand to Javi.

  Standing, he grabs his comic, unzips his book bag, and gently slides it in. He ignores my hand completely.

  Hand hanging in midair, I bring it slowly back to my thigh and smile like it doesn’t bother me. But it does, it always does.

  Three hours later, I’m done articulating the bones. But I hadn’t liked it. I nailed the test, I know it, but it was an infant skeleton. It felt macabre. Some of the guys in my class had laughed, calling the bones cute.

  To me they weren’t cute. They were the bones of a child a mother had lost. So when I step out onto the campus lawns, I’m grumpy.

  The day is warm. Hotter than it has been the last few weeks with temperatures soaring past one hundred an hour ago, and that only makes me crankier.

  I need a drink.

  And I know immediately where I’m going.

  There’s a good chance he’s not even there.

  My stomach flutters.

  Really I have nothing to worry about.

  But if I’m being honest, I knew I was going to go there this morning. It’s why I’d taken such
care to look nice. Why my hands have been shaking all day. Biting down on my tongue, I cross the street, smelling the coffee long before I open the door.

  I moan in appreciation.

  It’s so bright outside it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust.

  When they finally do, he’s there.

  Not Alex.

  But Ryan.

  ***

  Ryan

  I’m not ready to see her.

  Maybe ever.

  She walks into the coffee shop looking better than I remember. Her hair is pulled back in a messy bun and she’s wearing a yellow crop top that shows a flash of belly at the bottom.

  Gorgeous.

  Knockout.

  I close my eyes. Last time she’d seen me she’d seen the loser. The asshole who’d tried to off himself because he just couldn’t deal. I’m getting stronger every day. But I’m still not ready for this.

  She looks over her shoulder, back at the door as if debating whether to leave. Like maybe I haven’t seen her yet.

  “Damn me,” I mutter under my breath, knowing I should just let her pretend, make it easy on her and myself, but I don’t. Getting up from the table, I go to her.

  She trembles, staring at me wide-eyed, hugging her hands to her chest. Just like last time. Will I ever get her out of my head?

  Slipping my hands into my pocket, I stop a safe distance from her. “Hey.”

  Worst line ever.

  But it seems to work.

  Her entire body inhales, then exhales, and a smile slips across her features, lighting her face. “Hi. Nice to see you again.”

  My lips twitch as I debate how to respond.

  Grabbing my arm, she gives it a gentle squeeze. “You look good. Healthy.”

  Healthy. Fan-fucking-tastic. Just what a man wants to hear.

  Tunneling my fingers through my hair, knowing it makes it stand up every which way and not giving a damn, I nod. “Every day. Going through the twelve steps. In fact, I finish tomorrow.”

  “Oh. That’s good.”

  Rocking on her heels, she looks over my shoulder. This is starting to get awkward—not good. She wants to leave, I can sense it; I feel her thoughts shiver through the air. A muscle tightens in my jaw; now that she’s here I don’t want her to go.

  Hell, half the time I don’t know what I want anymore.

  “Yeah, umm…” I scrub my chin. “One of the twelve steps is to you know, apologize and crap.”

  Those pink full lips I can’t stop obsessing about quirk. “Really?”

  I lick my own. “Yeah.” Being bold, not sure why, I take a step closer.

  She tenses, and again I know she’ll bolt if I push too far. Taking a trembling breath, I stare down at her face, memorizing each exotic line and plane of it. She has cat eyes, so green they remind me of spring. It’s hard to tell, but I’m pretty sure they aren’t contacts. I’ve never seen eyes like hers before. Not on someone of her skin tone.

  I smile when I see the freckles. I’d dreamed about them last night. Kissing each perfect dot along the bridge of her nose as she’d panted, grabbed my ass, and the rest had been a blur of moans and skin. I woke up so hard it’d been a miracle I hadn’t shot off in my sheets. Hadn’t had one of those things happen in years. But the intensity of the dream had felt so real.

  The shower hadn’t helped either, because I couldn’t go in without remembering how she’d held me.

  Alex had told me everything. How, when she called, he’d immediately run home to find her still in the tub, her legs spread apart and me cradled between them.

  I would give anything to have seen that for myself.

  Which is probably pretty fucking disturbing on my part, but it’s the truth.

  To my surprise, she doesn’t flinch or look away. In some ways she reminds me of a timid lamb, but in others, a fierce lioness.

  She fascinates me.

  “I’m sorry.” I say it slowly, drawing out the words, letting her feel the sincerity of them. It’s surprisingly easy to do.

  When I’d had to do it with Alex, he’d given me shit about it for three days. Cold shoulder, cold food, and monosyllabic answers. Which I guess I deserved.

  Her lashes flutter like a tiny paintbrush upon the tops of her cheeks.

  “I still dream about it,” she admits in a quiet voice.

  Green eyes swallow me up, look straight through me. I hate it. But I need it too. When I’m around her, I feel alive.

  “Finding you. Holding you.” She clamps her lips shut and something in the region of my heart shakes.

  Inhaling deeply, she gives me a grim smile. “Yeah, so. Thanks.”

  She’s slamming the proverbial door, angling to get away. Taking a side step to the left, I know I’m a masochist. Why can’t I just let her go?

  “Have you had lunch yet?” My knuckles pop when I flex my fists.

  I should just let her go. Let her walk out of my life forever. But for three months all I’ve thought about is her. Why she did it? Why she cared? I have to know.

  “That’s actually what I was coming here for.”

  “I know a better place.”

  Her smile holds so many mysteries, unfathomable like the Mona Lisa’s smirk, and I can’t help but return it.

  “Better than the world’s best coffee?” There’s a note of doubt in her tone.

  “I’m pretty sure the place I’m thinking has the market cornered on that. You like sushi?”

  Pursing her lips tight, I can see the indecision warring on her face. “Coffee and sushi? That’s like my kryptonite. Gross, but true.” She laughs. “You drive a really hard bargain. Fine. But…” She holds up a finger. “This isn’t a date. Got it?”

  Grabbing it, I gave it a quick squeeze. Her eyes widen and my blood thrums at the nebulous heat that zips between us.

  “I never said it was.” I grin like I hadn’t felt it. Like I hadn’t noticed she’d felt it too. Like the world hadn’t just titled on its axis from the point of contact.

  “Lili Bean?” A familiar voice calls from over my shoulder, ruining the moment.

  Her eyes tear from mine and a huge smile stretches across her face, looking almost like relief. She runs to Alex, jumping into his arms the moment he spreads them for her.

  Their hug is quick but fierce, and it’s a hammerblow to my gut.

  Alex gives her a quick peck on the cheek and I’m seconds away from bum rushing my cousin. Thankfully, she moves out of his arms before I act on the impulse.

  “Venti mocha latte soy with no cream?” Alex says, walking behind the counter and throwing a white dishtowel over his shoulder.

  “Actually, no.” She glances back at me and the smile she’d given Alex is no longer there, but there’s something else. Something that makes my breathing hitch. “Ryan’s asked me out to lunch.”

  Dammit, the second she says it I know Alex is going to give me the look.

  He whips his head up, and his eyes say clear as day to stay the hell away from her. Any other girl, Alex doesn’t care. But there’s something about Liliana that makes him crazy.

  I take a step back.

  Bro code says you don’t hit on the girl your buddy wants. Alex swears there’s nothing there, tells me that over and over. But maybe I shouldn’t. She’s seen me in a horrible way, she knows something about me I wish she didn’t. Maybe I should stay out of her life, be content with the dreams and the possibility of what might have been.

  “Don’t let him give you crap,” Alex cautions, never looking away from my face. And I know he’s giving me the green light, even if he doesn’t really want to.

  “Don’t worry.” Lili tosses me a flirty grin and my heart almost stops beating. “I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself. Besides, I can never turn down sushi.” Glancing at her wrist she says, “I’ve got almost an hour and a half before I have to get back. Is it close?”

  “Yeah,” I nod and gesture toward the door. “Let me pull the car around.”

  The minute she’s out
of earshot, Alex walks back around the counter and grabs a fistful of my shirt. His jaw’s clenched so tight it’s like it’s made of granite.

  “I’m not going to tell you no,” he mutters, “but don’t screw with her. You got me? She’s a good girl, Ryan, and she doesn’t need your shit. I’m serious.”

  Shoving his hand off, I straighten my shirt. “You like her. That it?”

  Running has hand over his head, he nods. “Yeah. A lot. But there’re things. Things I know damn well I can’t handle. So out of respect for her, I stay away.”

  I cock my head. “What things?”

  Alex shakes his. “She wants you to know, she’ll tell you. Play nice, Ryan, and no more crap.”

  I look back at the door. She smiles at me. All soft and sweet and I know I’m screwed.

  “I swear.”

  Chapter Seven

  Liliana

  “So you really eat sushi? I’m shocked.” I shove another spicy tuna roll in my mouth, moaning with two parts pleasure and one part pain as the wasabi fumes hit the back of my throat and crawl up my nose, bringing tears instantly to my eyes.

  Laughing, he nods. “Yeah. I do.”

  To prove his point, he pops another unagi roll into his mouth and chews.

  “I’m a fighter. Lean protein, clean carbs. It’s what keeps this body moving.” He winks and my stomach dips.

  Who is this guy?

  Not the same one I remember from months ago. He makes me laugh, forget about the stress of time, of homework, of work, of Javi or Mom.

  The place is a dump. The carpet is stained and ripped in spots. The tables are nothing more than the fold-out kind and there are cracks in the window. I keep expecting a health inspector to walk in any minute, tape a closed sign to the door, and tell us to run and never look back. But at least there aren’t bugs and the fish does taste fresh.

  But the coffee sucks the big one. It’s old, bitter, and so gross I’d only managed two sips before having to set it away.

  Ryan’s eyes twinkle, his skin looks flushed and healthy, and for the first time I see hope in him. My fingers curl. I want to hug him, to make sure he’s really real. That this is real.

  “So how’d they take the whole incident? Your,” I say, shrugging, “coach?”