It Goes On

by Ashley Claudy

  He put his arm out to stop me. “Wait. Will you at least answer my calls?”

  “Let her go,” my father ordered, entering the foyer.

  Ethan took several steps back, keeping his gaze locked with mine. “I apologize, sir.”

  “It’s okay. I was just leaving.” I didn’t want him to think any worse of Ethan.

  “So am I. You can walk out with me.” My father held the door open for me to go through.

  Ethan silently watched me as I walked away, and the stern lines of his face gripped my stomach. I wanted him to be happy too. But we hurt each other. I looked back at him once before my father closed the door between us.

  “Do I need to talk to him? Is he bothering you?” He asked as he walked to his car waiting to take him to the airport.

  “No. Thanks for the offer though.” I hugged him, and he stiffened in surprise before gently hugging me back.

  I walked away more confused than ever. It seemed I could accept everyone else’s past and faults except Ethan’s. Maybe because I’d mistakenly thought he didn’t have them and put all my trust in that lie. But was that his fault or mine?

  ~Carly~

  She weighed the package with her hands. It was heavy for the size, something solid. Turning it, she checked the white box for a sender’s name and found none.

  Carly took the package into the kitchen. It was a much smaller space than the condo in LA. Carefully cutting open the tape, she emptied the box. Inside was a dark leather box, a little less than a foot in length, and a card.

  She opened the card, and a gift card to a design store was inside. Eileen’s large, but tidy, signature was immediately recognizable. She’d sent a housewarming gift.

  Her phones ring interrupted her while she read Eileen’s note. Checking her phone, shock ran through her as she saw Connor’s name on the screen. She debated sending it to voice mail but curiosity won out. She hadn’t talked to him since his engagement.

  “Carly, I’ll be in town for the weekend and wanted to see you. My plane lands in an hour; meet me at the airport.” His voice was soft and encouraging.

  “I can’t.” Carly faltered on her words and cleared her throat. “Congratulations on your engagement. I wish you two the best, but this is where I say goodbye.”

  “Why does anything have to change? I thought we had a good arrangement.”

  She sucked in air. “No, you had a good arrangement, but it’s over now.” She ended the call.

  Returning to the package on the table, she opened the leather box. A Bible laid snuggled within. Flipping open the card once more, Carly reread the note with a satisfied smile.

  Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path – Psalms 119:105

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  We lose ourselves in the things we love, we find ourselves there too.

  Kristen Martz

  “Kate, wake up.” Lexi shook my arm.

  “What?” I asked blinking away my bad dreams. The room was dim, the sun only just rising.

  Lexi shuffled away from my bed. “Ethan's here. Deal with it. Quietly. I'm going back to bed.”

  I choked on my heart as it leaped to my throat, and I scrambled out of bed, following Lexi out of my room. She disappeared through her bedroom door, leaving us alone in the living room.

  “I like that shirt.” He pointed to me with a little laugh, and I knew immediately he’d been drinking by his slight sway.

  My stomach clenched. I’d forgotten I put his shirt on before bed, hoping to feel the same comfort his embrace usually gave. It hadn’t worked, and there was nothing calming about his presence now. He seemed too large for this tiny space, and I couldn’t breathe.

  I walked past him to the front door.

  “Whoa, are you kicking me out already?” he asked, shocked. “You're not even going to talk to me?”

  “Lexi's sleeping; let's talk outside,” I explained, holding the door open for him.

  He slowed as he walked past me, hesitating in the doorway, and a shiver rippled through me at his nearness.

  I walked to the picnic table in the courtyard of the apartment complex. Scanning the parking lot, I asked, “How did you get here? How are you getting home?”

  “An Uber. I can call them again if I need to.” He stepped closer to me. “If I can't stay.” His large, warm, hand gripped my hip.

  “Don't” I stepped back, not trusting myself when he touched me. “You're drunk. You need to leave.”

  “I’m drunk.” He nodded. “And I want you. But in the morning, I won't be drunk, and I'll still want you. I've wanted you since the moment I saw you. I'm sorry for who I used to be, but that was before I met you.”

  I took another step back, away from him, trying to maintain my resolve.

  “I can't stand this. You're supposed to be my future. You gave me something; you made me whole. And now you've taken it away. You're destroying me.” He rubbed his hands over his head, and his eyes glowed in the dim light, a look I’d previously trusted.

  “I'm destroying you? I gave you all I had, but you didn't trust me with your past. If you would have just told me, it could have been different. But you didn’t. You broke my heart.”

  “I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.” His broken voice squeezed my heart. “I would have told you in time. But please, tell me we can work this out. I'll apologize every day; just tell me there's a chance. I'm going crazy.” He pointed at me. “I thought you had moved. You let me think you moved, but you've been here.” His hand swept over his head. “Fuck. Am I wasting my time? Are you ever going to forgive me? Just tell me how to fix this, please.” His voice rose, thick with emotion.

  I shook my head, uncertain anything could but wanting desperately to fix this.

  He stepped close, and his hands cupped my face, gentle and warm. “Remember how we felt together. How we feel together now. Tell me you don't feel this and I'll leave.”

  “It hurts.” Tears stung my eyes.

  He shook his head, dropping his hands to my waist. “Only because you're fighting it.”

  “I'm fighting for me,” I said, no longer sure what part of me I was fighting for.

  “So am I.” He dipped his face towards mine. “I'll always fight for you,” he whispered into my mouth.

  Air escaped me as our lips met in a desperate kiss. Two people trying to breathe life into their future. My arms circled around him as I fell into him, my fragile walls crumbling.

  His confidence strengthened with my response, and he sunk into me as his tongue dipped into my mouth.

  I slipped my hands under his shirt, wanting to feel him, to connect with him, to believe him.

  He pulled back and asked, “Your room?”

  I nodded, decision made.

  He grabbed my hand, stilling me from moving as he searched my face, “Wait. Are we going to try to work this out?”

  I nodded, smiling as I realized it was true. We would work it out. “We still need to talk, but that can wait.”

  His face lit up with relief and then clouded with desire. He held my hand as I led him back to the apartment. When I opened the door, he picked me up, easily cradling me in his arms. Kissing me softly, he walked me to my bedroom and laid me on the bed.

  I didn’t move, captivated by the sight of him stripping off his clothes. His solid, lean muscles promised strength and agility, and my body hummed with desire just looking at him.

  He crawled over me with a sexy smile. His soft, full lips enveloped mine and then dragged over my chin to my neck, teeth scraping my skin as he nipped and licked his way to my collar bone. Delicious chills spread through my body as his hands slid up my thighs and over my cotton shorts. Sliding them down, he moved with them, tasting the skin on my legs.

  Needing to touch him, my fingers ran through his hair and over his broad shoulders, my nails digging into his muscles when his hot mouth kissed between my legs, my panties gone.

  His tongue opened my folds and slid in and out of me, lighting my desires on fi
re.

  I wiggled underneath him and tried to pull him back up to me. I needed his body on mine. I needed him in me. I wanted to kiss him and feel him.

  He ignored my pulls on his arm, his tongue licking and swirling.

  “I need you,” I pleaded.

  He sprang over me and his mouth crashed into mine. His heavy weight pressing me into the bed.

  I could feel his heartbeat over mine, but it still wasn’t close enough, and I pulled him to me, tasting the skin on his shoulders.

  His hands moved down my side, to the edge of the shirt I still wore, and he lifted it over my head. He paused looking down at my naked body and breathed, “You are perfect.”

  “Only with you,” I responded, my heart beating wildly as the walls surrounding it crumbled, leaving me exposed.

  Eyes bright with emotion and desire, he slid on a condom and then braced his weight on one palm as he positioned himself and then thrust deep inside me.

  My breathing strained as a delicious warmth curled in my core.

  His movements quickened as he drove into me unrestrained. He filled me, surrounded me, consumed me. He was all there was. All I could see, taste, feel.

  He grabbed my headboard, thrusting into me harder than before. With every movement, he went deeper, and the heat increased.

  I was shattering beneath him.

  One of his hands left the headboard, stroking the sensitive tip between my legs, liquefying me.

  I shook and cried out beneath him as he kept up his unrelenting pace, and then he shuddered with his own release.

  Lowering himself beside me, he gave me a light, lingering kiss before dropping his head to the pillow, staring at me. “I may be drunk, but that was the best I ever had. Every time with you has been the best, but that was the best of the best.”

  I shook with a combination of laughter and aftershocks from my orgasm. I pressed my lips to his, silencing him.

  “Can I stay the night?” he whispered against my mouth, wrapping his arms around me.

  “Hmm. Please do.” I made myself comfortable, curling into him, wishing there were more hours in the night. The room glowed with early morning light breaking through the blinds.

  I laid still, looking at him, memorizing him. Even in sleep, his eyes were beautiful with his thick brows and long lashes. His short beard only highlighted his strong jaw and full, talented mouth. Afraid I’d wake him and break the spell of sleep, I resisted the urge to smooth down his dark hair sticking up in tufts.

  But he woke up anyway. One eye slid open, and he squinted against the bright sunlight. Then he looked at me, his lips sliding into an easy smile as he wrapped his arm around me and pulled me to rest on his chest.

  “Good morning Beau—I mean Kate. Good morning.” His smile faltered, but he held me tighter.

  I trailed one finger along his stomach, and it pulled in, tightening at my touch. “It is. And how are you feeling? Do you need a drink or aspirin?”

  He shook his head slowly. “No. I don't need anything, but you. Stay just like this.”

  I relaxed my head on his chest with a breath of laughter. “You and those lines. You're very good Mr. Brenner.”

  He tilted his head, looking down at me. “I only say them to you; you bring them out of me.” His hand covered my hand, stopping the trail I was tickling on his stomach. “You have to stop that. I don't have any more condoms, and that's turning me on.”

  I stilled my hand, laying it flat on his chest. I didn't want to burst the bubble of contentment, but I did have a lot of questions. We needed to talk.

  “Can we promise to be honest with each other?” I asked.

  His arms circled around my back, holding me to him. “I’ve been honest with you. Everything I've said has been true, and I'll continue to do that. Please don't doubt what I've told you. I know I should have revealed more about my past, but I didn't lie about any of it.”

  I nodded, wanting to believe him. “Have you been with anyone else since Liam's party? I mean, you had a condom on you last night.”

  He rolled his body so we both laid facing each other, our eyes connecting and his hand resting on my shoulder. “No. I wasn't with anyone else. I grabbed the condom before coming here. Drinking made me confident.” The corner of his mouth raised up. “I can't believe it actually worked, and you didn't kick me out.”

  “You're persuasive. And stubborn; you wouldn't let me kick you out.”

  His hands lightly caressed my arm, a look of concern lining his face. “Do you feel pressured? I want to be with you, but what do you want?”

  “This.” I stroked his cheek and brushed his lips with mine. “I want us. I only fought it because it's easy for me to believe people don't really care, even when you were saying otherwise. But you fought for me and made me believe. I needed that.” I kissed his lips again. “I still have questions, but whatever the answers are, we can work through this as long as we're honest.”

  “That’s what I wanted to hear. Talk to me if you start doubting me. Let me explain. Trust me.”

  “I want to trust you. That night, everything was happening so fast, and I was drunk. I felt like everyone was against me, and I was breaking. I couldn't separate anything; I couldn't think.”

  He kissed my forehead, and I breathed him in, his mild minty scent comforting me.

  “I’m sorry.” His fingers ran through my hair. “I never wanted my past to hurt you, and I was never against you. I’ll always be on your side. That's what relationships are. From now on, it's us together. Don't let others break that.”

  Part of me knew that. I shouldn't have pushed him away so quickly without talking to him. “So what was your past? Explain this to me.”

  He rolled onto his back and stared at my ceiling. “It started with Taylor before my parents died. We were in our junior year of high school and she and I had been dating for a couple months.” He glanced over at me and his hand found mine, our fingers lacing. “We went on a field trip to Paris, and Liam hooked up with her. He was my best friend, and he slept with my girlfriend.” He shrugged a shoulder. “But after talking and fighting about it, we decided girls weren't worth it. If they’d sleep with both of us, then they weren't worth it. It became this thing, we tested our girlfriends. If they easily gave it up to the other, then they weren't loyal.

  “After my parents died, I stopped dating. That’s when the game changed and we started keeping score.” He shook his head then met my eyes. “You slept with him first. He told me that before I met you. But that first day I met you, he saw us talking. We decided not to count your first night with him because you were drunk and told him you wouldn't do it again.”

  My throat constricted. “Was that what that night on the beach was about, you wanted to see if you could score?”

  He lifted my hand and traced it with his fingers. The light, tickling touch eased the tightness in my chest. “Honestly, at first it was. But then you started ranting about life and I couldn't. You had a fire in you, and I wanted to protect that. I wanted you to be mine.” He smiled widened, reaching his eyes. “When you told Liam to go fuck himself, I think I fell in love.”

  I choked on a short laugh, and Ethan rubbed my back.

  “I think Liam knew I liked you,” he continued. “He would rag on me about our workouts. But when everything went down with Tristan, I told him it was done. I didn't want him trying anything with you.” The pressure of his hands on my back increased as he spoke. “I should have ended it sooner.”

  I stroked his cheek, trying to ease the tension that showed in his face. “I wouldn't have done anything with Liam. But that explains why he started acting so different towards me.”

  He shook his head, his eyes cast down. “That and he blamed you for ruining one of his connections. He did coke with Tristan. But he got over it.”

  “Okay.” Things were starting to make more sense. “What about Taylor? Liam said you two didn't pass girls back and forth, but is she an exception?”

  “Hell no.” His ey
es narrowed as they scanned my face. “She uses me to make Liam jealous, and I let her. It’s more to remind Liam that she’s not the one. But I haven't been with her since high school. I probably let girls hang on me too much; I'll stop them now.”

  I leaned back as I recalled what he said at my father's house. “You don't like country music?”

  His chest vibrated with suppressed laughter. “I like your reaction to it.” He gripped my hips, his fingers pressing into my skin. “Especially when you shake your ass to the music.”

  We still had so much to learn about each other. “What music do you like?”

  He shrugged. “A variety. Mostly rap, R&B, a little bit of rock. Anything else you want to know?”

  I was absorbed in his gaze, in everything about him. “Probably. But I can't think of any questions that matter right now.”

  His hand rose to caress my hair again. “Just know, whatever the question is,” he moved his head closer to mine, till the tips of our noses touched. So close I could feel the smile spread across his face. “You're my answer.”

  I giggled into his mouth, drunk with happiness.

  “I thought you might like that one,” he said, and our laughter mingled and abated as our kiss deepened.

  With his lips on mine, it struck me. This was the moment, my new favorite memory, when I embraced what made me feel alive. And this is the part of me I would fight for from now on.

  His hands gently brushed through the tangles in my hair as he pulled back from the kiss. “I have a question for you.” His eyes connected with mine. “What made you stay? Did you stay for me?”

  I laced my fingers with his, staring at our connection. “You were part of it.” I took a few breaths, trying to put words to my inexplicable feelings. “If I had never met you, I would have moved. But you helped me to find me. Even these past couple of weeks, without you, I kept thinking of what you said about building our own lives. That's what I'm doing.” I gazed into his eyes. “I want you in my life. Everything's easier with you by my side. I feel more with you, good and bad. It's all heightened, and I love that. I love you.” It had always been true, but saying the words out loud helped it to take root in me. I cupped his face in my hands. “But I stayed for me.”