Fighting to Forget

by J. B. Salsbury

  What. The. Fuck.

  Mac’s eyes swing to mine and back to Caleb’s.

  A slow smile spreads across his face. “No pressure, babe.”

  Babe?

  “Just figured it’s only fair, darlin’. I mean you know so much ’bout me; I’d like to return the favor.”

  Is it just me, or did his hint of a Southern accent just turn into some full-fledged good-ole-boy shit?

  He’s fucking flirting with her. Pain throbs in my jaw and my stomach muscles contract. I was making out with her ten seconds ago, and already I feel some kind of proprietary claim on her. Caleb’s my best friend, but I don’t want his fucking country ass anywhere near Mac. Or his hands and lips. Shit, I’m halfway thinkin’ I’d gouge his eyes out just for looking at her.

  Visions of my worst dreams flash behind my eyes. Shame weighs me down like a mudslide over my thoughts and reminds me of what I am.

  Perverted. Dirty. Sick—a total contrast to Caleb’s perfect family, ideal upbringing, and southern charm. He’d be able to touch her without getting sick, invite her into his home, his bed. Fuck!

  “Dude, you okay?” Caleb’s voice went from sweet to parental, pulling me from my thoughts.

  I lift my head not even realizing how far I’d dropped my chin to my chest. “Fine, man.”

  He tilts his head, studying me. “You sure? I know you’re dropping weight, but you’re making sure to eat, right?”

  Oh, for fuck’s sake, I’m surprised he doesn’t sprout damn wings and a halo.

  I feel Mac’s eyes on me, but I keep mine on Caleb. “Yeah, I’m good.” I make sure to hold my head high, despite the urge to bow out and leave him and Mac to plan their future together.

  He nods, seeming to buy my bullshit, and pulls out his phone. “Mac, go ahead and put in your phone number.” He hands her his phone. “We’ll hook up sometime. I’ll take you out so someone else can bring us beers.”

  “Oh, um . . .” I watch in horror as she grabs his cell and hits a few numbers.

  It was bad enough when I thought he would be better for her, but she actually likes him? And to hand out her number to my best fucking friend after she had her tongue in my mouth?

  With all the women I’ve hooked up with, chicks that would get on their knees to suck me off then move on to the next guy in a matter of minutes, that shit never bothered me before. Why the fuck is it making me damn near violent now?

  I don’t deserve her, but I’m selfish. I want her.

  “Here ya go.” She hands him back his phone.

  Without taking his eyes off her, he shoves his cell into his pocket. “I’ll call you later this week.” He winks—fucking winks—at her and walks away, slapping my shoulder.

  I stare down at Mac, who’s staring right back at me. “What the fuck was that?” The words come from behind my still-clenched teeth.

  “No clue. Why don’t you tell me?” Her jaw ticks and she’s breathing through her nose. She’s mad at me? Hell no.

  “Please.” I motion down the hallway in the direction Caleb left. “Don’t let me keep you.”

  “You told him we were talking about bikes.”

  “What was I supposed to say? Hey, Caleb, just dry fucking Mac here against a wall. How’s the game?” I don’t want to tell her that Caleb’s interested in her, not that she doesn’t already know that now, but confirming it feels like tapping out before the competition even begins. “Nice to see that the cowboy thing works for you. Next time we hang out, I’ll be sure to wear my chaps.”

  Her narrow eyes soften and a slow smile spreads across her face. The look she’s giving is sexy as hell and has me itching to touch her. She leans back against the wall, finding the exact spot I had her pinned earlier almost as if on purpose. “You’re jealous.”

  I take a couple steps toward her, close enough that my height and width keep her to the wall, but without touching. “You just gave my best friend your phone number. Not jealous, darlin’. Pissed.”

  I thought my jab at her Caleb-issued pet name would ignite a fire behind her eyes and maybe send her away. It’s what I deserve. But instead, she bites her damn lip while staring at mine. My body responds immediately, and it’s all I can do to keep from rubbing up against her.

  “Jealous.”

  I step closer. “You want me jealous.” It’s not a question; my reaction to her with Caleb is getting her off.

  Her eyes flare with the heat of hunger. “I do.”

  “Why?”

  “Because now you know how it feels.”

  “You’re jealous?”

  Her confidence slips a fraction, and she flashes a smile that borders on embarrassed. “I have to watch girls throw themselves at you all the time.”

  “But . . . you’ve been watching me?”

  The whites of her eyes show around their sandy irises and her lips part. She nods, two quick bounces of her head.

  “How long?”

  “A while.”

  Fuck if this little piece of crazy should send me running, but instead it pulls me closer to her like a magnet of instability that anchors us together.

  I reach out and slide another long strand of her hair through my fingers, watching the natural waves straighten against my draw and bounce back. “You ready for our date?”

  “Yes.” The sound is all breath, and I have to wonder if she’s feeling the same thing I am.

  “Let’s get the fuck out of here.” I grab her hand and drag her down the hallway, the sound of her laughter speeding my steps.

  The more I get to know about this girl, the more I feel connected to her in some way. Our nightmares, panic in small spaces, no family, and now the crazy.

  She’s not all that different from me. Maybe I don’t have to hide who I am when we’re together.

  It makes me wonder what else I’ll learn if I dig a little deeper.

  Ten

  Let myself fall

  There’s so much to gain.

  Let myself fall

  Past the fear and the pain.

  Let myself fall

  It’s out of my hands.

  Beyond my control

  I don’t care if I land.

  --Ataxia

  Mac

  Rex is dragging me through the expanse of Jonah and Raven Slade’s enormous house, and I’m giggling like a damn teenager. Having him touch me, show interest in me at all, is something I never dreamed would happen. I don’t remember the last time I felt this kind of happiness. No, not happiness—joy.

  We move through to the kitchen where Raven is perched on the counter and Layla’s on a barstool and they’re diving into a plate full of nachos.

  “Ladies, thanks for the hospitality, but I’m taking Mac out.” He’s smiling one of those smiles that I’ve seen him aim at his friends.

  Layla coughs as if she choked on the cheekful of whatever she was eating. Once she catches her breath, her eyes find mine. “No problem. She’d probably have more fun with you anyway. We aren’t getting much done here beyond stuffing ourselves into a food coma.” In the brief moment that Rex turns his head, she winks at me.

  When I first met Layla, she’d assumed I had feelings for Rex. At the time, I wasn’t sure if she was interested in him or not, so I did what I do to every girl in the bar who asks me about him. I told her he was taken. It wasn’t completely a lie. I mean he’s not exactly free with all the shit he has to deal with on a daily basis. At least, that’s how I justify it.

  “Where are you guys going?” Raven’s gaze moves back and forth between us with concern. She cares about Rex.

  This is the closest thing to family he has. I understand their desire to protect him. More than anyone, I understand.

  What started as a need to alleviate the guilt turned into an obsession to be near him and, now, an undeniable, unconditional, all-consuming love for him.

  My heart leaps in my chest. I’ve always loved Rex. But ever since the night he woke me up from a nightmare, I felt a shift. Like sliding a lock into pla
ce, we bonded in that moment. Forever.

  “Mac?” Rex’s voice is close to my ear. “Did you hear Layla?”

  I look at Layla, whose smile falls when I face her head on. “What?”

  She narrows her eyes. “Nothing important. Just . . . call me tomorrow.”

  Rex turns to say goodbye to Jonah as he walks into the room, and Layla mouths, “Are you okay?”

  A quivering excitement builds in my stomach. I nod and smile so big my teeth get cold.

  She points at me hard and mouths, “I knew it.”

  We stifle our giggles, and I look over to see Raven smiling, having probably caught on to our semi-silent conversation.

  I grab my jacket while Rex makes a quick stop off at the bathroom. After a few more good-byes and a very put-off look from Caleb, we head out to Rex’s truck. He opens the door for me just as he did the first night. He prowls around the front of the truck to the driver’s side, and I keep my eyes on him as he climbs in.

  “Where to?” He fires up the truck and looks at me.

  His bright blue eyes stand out in contrast to his dark hair, and his skin is the perfect color as if he’s just spent a few days at the beach. Pretty. And just like that the memory of what Rex being so pretty meant for him as a child comes rushing back.

  “Mac, baby, you okay?”

  “Huh?” He’s called me baby before, and just like the first time, I’m struck stupid.

  A soft but worried smile plays across his lips. “You keep zoning out.”

  He doesn’t know of our history; if he did, I’m sure he’d find his mind wandering off to the past. Will I ever be able to spend time with him without going there? Maybe if I just tell him, get it all out so that we can move past it, maybe then things will get easier.

  “Shit.” Rex rubs his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “You’re into Caleb.”

  “What! No!” On instinct, my hand moves to rest on his thigh. “Rex. No. I don’t want Caleb.”

  His blue eyes search mine.

  “I’m . . . I’ve got a few things on my mind, but they have nothing to do with me not wanting to be here with you.” I squeeze his leg and a tight hiss leaks from his lips. Afraid that I’d hurt him, I pull my hand back. His eyes stay fixed on the place where my grip held his leg. “Rex, I’m sorry. I—”

  His hand darts out to grab mine and he pulls hard, tugging my upper body over the center console. Our lips meet in a hungry kiss. The metal ring on his mouth bites into my flesh. His tongue lashes against mine, stirring my blood in a violent rush. I shove my weight up and over, needing to feel more of him. The warmth of his chest brushes against my nipples, sending shockwaves of need down my torso.

  On a quest to consume him, I rasp my teeth against his lower lip and bite. He groans and tangles his hands into my hair. My scalp stings as he pulls me back. He wants me to slow down, or ease off, but I’m not in control anymore. The culmination of everything I’ve ever felt for Rex is crashing together, whirling around in a chaotic tornado of need. I delve in deeper, pressing myself against him until my breasts ache. My hand roams his body. The soft cotton of his shirt feels like sandpaper to my over sensitized palm. I push the fabric up to slide my hand beneath it. I’m met with the warm solid muscles of his abdomen. So hard and smooth like—

  “Fuck!” He pushes me back so hard that I drop down into my seat and my shoulder knocks against the door. “I can’t.” Burying his head in his hands, he scrubs them through his hair.

  I’m breathing heavy, trying like hell to understand what just happened. “I’m sorry. Did I . . . What did I do?”

  He sits back and fists the steering wheel so tight it squeaks under the pressure. “I don’t—Fuck.”

  I reach out and rest my hand on his back, hoping to comfort him, but he jerks away. I tuck my hand in my lap and curl around it as a bitter wave of rejection washes over me.

  “I really like kissing you.” His voice is so quiet that if I weren’t paying close enough attention I would’ve missed it.

  “Is that bad?” All I want to do is fix it, make whatever he’s going through better. Take his pain away.

  “It is for me.”

  Finally he turns toward me, and I fight the urge to recoil at the war raging behind his eyes. Every instinct tells me to pull him into my arms and hold him, but he threw off my touch earlier, and I don’t want to make things worse.

  “That kiss was different from the others.” He turns away from me, looking out the window.

  Different how? I guess I was a little more aggressive than I was the other times we kissed. Up until the hallway, our kisses have been nothing more than soft pecks. My mind goes back to the kiss at Jonah’s. He pushed me back against the wall, pinning me there with his hips. What was so different about then and now? Other than . . . I was the aggressor. He felt attacked, and considering what he’s been through . . .

  I gasp then quickly cover my mouth. The sound and movement draws his eyes back to me.

  “Rex, I’m sorry. Everything happened so fast and I wasn’t thinking. My feelings just took over and I lost control.” My words are rushed as they pour from my lips with the hope that they’ll make him stay. “I need to be more careful with you. I understand that now. It won’t—”

  “Careful?” The blues of his eyes almost disappear between the tight slits of his lids. “Why do you say that?”

  Dammit, I’m fucking it all up!

  My head is a jumble of shit, half scrambled from the kiss and half desperate for the right words. “Things are moving too fast.” I force myself to sound casual even though I’m feeling anything but. “You’ve saved me from a dark alley, kept me from slipping into a coma after I got cold-cocked by a biker, and rescued me from a supply room.”

  Recognition clears some of the pain from his eyes at the mention of the supply room.

  A small smile pulls at my lips. “All that and we haven’t even been on a date.”

  The sides of his lips tick up, and he blinks away the last of the hurricane of emotion he wore on his face.

  I tap my lips with my forefinger. “You know I’m pretty sure every good superhero takes the girl out after he rescues her.”

  “That’s not true. You’re watching the wrong cartoons.”

  “Yeah, you may be right, but in my fairytale he does. That would mean you’d owe me . . .” I make a show of counting on my fingers. “Does you saving me from Caleb count?”

  He blinks and shakes his head. “I didn’t save you from Caleb.”

  “Ah, but you will.” I lean forward to whisper, grateful to see that he leans in to listen rather than away. “I gave him your phone number instead of mine.”

  He turns to me, and this time there’s no hint of a smile or shadow of humor. This time he’s grinning so big that I can see all his teeth and the cute way his eyes crinkle at the sides. “No shit?”

  He falls back into his seat, his chin tilted high as the deep bass of his rolling laughter bounces around the truck cab. My eyes fall shut, and I allow myself a few seconds to bathe in the beauty of the sound. When I open them again, he’s still chuckling and looking straight ahead.

  “Caleb’s going to be shocked when he calls to hear your sweet voice and gets mine.” With the truck still idling, he knocks it into drive.

  Did he just call my voice sweet? My stomach flips and there’s a warm swell in my chest.

  “Wait a minute.” He turns toward me. “How do you know my phone number?”

  Uh-oh.

  I clear my throat, thinking fast. “I uh . . . got it from Mario after the whole flat-tire thing. I was going to call you to apologize for . . . you know, but decided it needed to be done in person.”

  “Really?”

  No, I stole it from Mario six months ago and sometimes call just to hear your voicemail. “Yeah.” I give my most convincing smile.

  He shrugs and doesn’t look too concerned about the fact that I not only have his phone number but that I also have it memorized.

  “About t
hat date.” He pulls out of Jonah’s long driveway and into the neighborhood. “Do you like rollercoasters?”

  And with that simple question all the tension is gone. “Hell yeah, I do.”

  ~*~

  Rex

  That was close. I almost broke down and told Mac everything. Confessed that I have issues with sex and that I only hook up with sluts that’ll take what I give and then walk away and that I never hook up with a woman without alcohol as a barrier between what my body has to accomplish and how my thoughts respond. At least, until Mac.

  Thank God she didn’t push the issue. I’m not sure why she didn’t. Instead, she diffused the whole conversation by redirecting it to our date.

  She says I’m the one doing all the rescuing, but she took a hit for me once, and then another by changing the subject of our conversation.

  “Are we going to the strip?” She looks out her side window to the Las Vegas landmark just off the freeway.

  It’s not dark out, but even under the sun, the strip stands out against the bland desert backdrop.

  “Yeah, I’ve ah . . . There’s a place I go to, and I thought you might like it.” My face heats at how awkward it feels to share this part of me with another person. I have two sides, the public side that acts for a crowd of screaming fans whether that’s from a stage or a cage and the darker side that I keep to myself. Most of the guys I’m close to have seen glimpses of my fucked-up psyche, and the few hookers I’ve paid for relief have witnessed the aftermath of it, but to willingly bring a person in on it? Yeah, this is new.

  “Sounds intriguing.”

  “I figure if you ride a motorcycle then you’re a bit of a thrill seeker. We’ll see how brave you are on Insanity.” I’m off the freeway and headed to the Stratosphere, which advertises the three most terrifying thrill rides in the world.

  “Insanity? What is it?” She’s pressing her cheek up against the passenger-side window, trying to look up to the top of the casinos that are coming into view.

  “It’s a ride that hangs you 1,000-feet high facing the street and spins you ’til you puke or pass out.” I bite down on my molars, waiting for the screaming girl freak out.