by Shey Stahl
“They’re good tears.”
His brow pinches together, and he nods, but there’s no smile. His body shifts and he draws me closer, our chests touching. “I didn’t say it to hear it back.” His words tremble with the shake of his body. “I said it to make sure you knew.”
“I love you,” I whisper in his ear as he enters me, filling me with so much more than himself. “Not because of this, but because of you,” I tell him, my mouth moving across his shoulder.
His body shudders, his movements halting. He pulls back slightly, his eyes finding mine and then his mouth. It’s not the same kisses as before. These are slow and consuming. They promise and assure.
I’m the first to break away from the kiss, and when I do, Asa’s mouth finds my neck. “Fuck,” he pants, his movements slowing. “I love you so much.”
And I say, over and over again, that I love him, even when it doesn’t feel like the words will ever be enough to convey my feelings for him. He holds me close, cradling my head in his hands, his chest sliding against mine as he rocks against me. The friction, the pressure, it’s just enough that I think maybe I know what’s coming if he keeps this slow but precise motion up.
He smirks, and I think, yeah, he knows what he’s doing.
I grip his shoulders tighter, my hips squirming, searching for just the right spot. And when we find it, he’s staring down at me with such intense need it makes my entire body heat to levels almost unbearable.
“Fall apart for me,” he begs, rocking into me.
I shudder beneath him at the same time his hips jerk forward faster than before. “Don’t stop,” I moan, praying he doesn’t in the middle of what I think is my first orgasm while having sex.
“I won’t,” he promises, keeping his movements sure and steady. He grunts against my lips, “Kiss me.”
His words, the tone, the way they course over my skin, salty and ragged, I kiss him. God, do I kiss him. I kiss him like he did to me, promising, assuring, and trying to convey everything he means to me. When I do fall apart beneath him, it’s everything and so much more.
I wrap my legs around his waist, tighter, holding on to him anywhere I can. His movements speed and just as mine ends, his begins, jerking inside me, groaning as he rides through his. He holds himself up on his hands, pushing into me and shudders, his eyes heavy-lidded, emptying himself into me. It’s everything, and I think he’s giving me everything good inside him. It’s seeping into my soul, bringing out the good in me.
He rolls off me and to the side, his breathing still heavy. That’s when the darkness creeps in. I only feel whole when he’s inside me, and I know just how unhealthy that is, but I can’t stop it. It traps me there, tightens my chest and holds every other emotion hostage.
I breathe in and stare at the jar on my nightstand Asa made for me. My very own starry night. It’s fading, the light not as bright but read the quote on the side again.
“For my part I know nothing with any certainty but the sight of the stars make me dream.” —Vincent Van Gogh
Asa kisses my shoulder, his breathing slowing. I look over at him and he seems so content I smile. Even if my mind won’t stop, at least I have this. Someone willing to see me through the darkness.
I’m studying with Roman for our statistics class. I don’t usually study with him, but we’re taking the class together and I need desperate help. We’re sitting on my bed with our backs against the wall, our feet hanging off the edge. There’s a pizza box between us, and he’s telling me about Cadence and him and how they can’t seem to stop fighting, but yet, he can’t walk away from her. Their situation is very much like mine and Asa’s, only completely different. As couples, we’re wrapped around each other in a lot of ways, holding onto memories from the past.
Asa and Roman were friends first when we were younger. They met playing youth football. I actually dated Roman for a short time. If you can call a third-grade romance dating. We legit thought we were too. Serious stuff back then. Anyway, when I noticed Asa Lawson, I let Roman down gently in a note that said: “I’m breaking up with you. Sorry.”
Roman being Roman, gave me a cocky response. “Cadence is prettier.”
He’s always been a dick.
After Asa left, Roman looked out for me, but I’ll admit, my relationship with everyone I know, even my parents, has changed.
When I look over at Roman, he’s staring at his textbook, a slice of pizza in one hand and a beer in another. “I just don’t get it.” Roman groans, drawing me from my thoughts. I feel bad, but I’ve missed what he was just saying. “She fucking acts like my mother at times.”
He’s talking about a fight he had with Cadence the other night. Believe me when I say everyone on the floor heard them in her room. I don’t have much I can offer him that he doesn’t know already. “If you’d stop cheating on her, maybe she wouldn’t be so untrusting. You’ve brought this on yourself.”
“I never told her I was going to see just her. That’s just crazy thinking I can be held to those standards in college,” Roman says conversationally, never breaking his eyes from the textbook in his lap.
“You’re such a pig.” I roll my eyes as he reaches for another slice of pizza. “Who’s that cheerleader you’ve been with again? I think the whole floor heard her name a time or two.”
He knows what I’m talking about. He cheated on Cadence with Lydia. I’ve never seen Lydia, that I know of, but I’ve definitely heard of her now. “It is what it is, B,” he says, angling the slice of pizza into his mouth. “Women love me because I have a dick and I fuck like a boss.”
“That’s disgusting, Roman. You’re so crass.” I level him a serious look and smile. “You’ve got nothing on Asa.”
Crap. Why’d I just say that?
Roman huffs, lashes fluttering, closing in annoyance. His jaw works back and forth in what I can only assume is irritation. He hates it when I mention Asa. They got in a huge fight after that night because he claimed Roman should have been looking out for me. “Whatever.” And then his eyes shift to mine, narrowing. “How would you know?”
I shrug. “No reason.”
“Bullshit. You fucked him, didn’t you?”
I slap his shoulder. “Don’t be nasty. I’m not telling you.”
“Though I can’t believe you gave it up to that fool, I’m not surprised if you did.” Roman twists his head, his eyes wander to mine. “You know, he’s never with any other girl. Ever. Even the cheerleaders. Never touches them. Guess you got him pussy whipped.”
I shove his shoulder. “Stop being gross.” Though I know I have absolutely no say in anything Asa does, it’s refreshing to know he’s not interested in anyone. Especially girls like Eva or Bethany, two cheerleaders I know who are obsessed with him.
I think about Roman’s words. I can’t believe you gave it up to that fool. They used to be friends and I don’t know how or why the shift happened. In my heart, I know it has to do with me and that night. “Why are you so mean to him? You used to be friends.”
“Mean to him? This isn’t kindergarten, B. It’s fucking life, and he’s the one who acts like a king around here. And yeah, we were friends before he pushed everyone away. You’re just too nice to remember he did the same to you.”
“He does not act like he’s king,” I defend, my heartbeat quickening. Yeah, Asa pushed me away when we were younger, but I can’t forget that he was taking care of his mom. He was fifteen and his mom was dying. He wouldn’t have been Asa if he didn’t give 100 percent of himself to helping her. He’s the most selfless person I know. “He’s nothing but humble.”
Roman snorts, smiling. “Yeah, humble, sure. I gotta say though, I’d probably be the same way with you.”
“With me?” My words shake, and I fidget with my pillowcase. “What are you talking about?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You’re Barrette Blake. Every guy’s wet dream for sure.” His eyes lift to mine and there’s a sudden edge to him I’ve never seen bef
ore. “Remember when we made out?”
Nausea rolls through me and I laugh around the feeling, trying not to look as uneasy as I am. “Don’t remind me.” I want him out my room in an instant. My throat tightens and tears sting my eyes. I breathe in through my nose, then let it out slowly, trying to rid the feeling inside my chest. The ones that scream and suffocate, the ones that tell me to withdraw and hide away from everything.
Roman lets out a gruff laugh and pushes the pizza box away, his mood lightening a touch, but there’s still a change in his demeanor. “I can’t believe I ate two pizzas.”
I pick through his pieces of crust he never eats and nibble on one. My stomach rolls when I take the first bite. My body isn’t craving food. It’s craving Asa and I hate that he’s not here, and Roman is, but I have to pass this class.
Roman reaches for the beer he brought over with him. “Do you remember it though?”
“Yeah, I remember.” I look over at him tossing the crust back in the box. “Why?” I remember the night. Sophomore year of high school. I was so confused and had no idea what I was doing. I remember thinking to myself, I should feel something when a boy is kissing me, right? I felt nothing.
Roman takes a slow drink from his beer, his eyes heavy on mine. “Why did you stop me?”
“Your sister was in the other room.”
“So?” he presses, still watching my every reaction. His eyes slide from mine to my lips.
Fear pricks my skin and I tremble. “She walked in on us.”
“If she hadn’t, I would have tried to fuck you,” he says, point-blank.
It feels like a bullet hits my chest with his words. Something about them doesn’t sit right with me. My hands start shaking and I don’t know why. I look at the clock, then my phone on my desk and think of Asa. I look at the door to the bathroom and think of Cadence on the other side of the room. We may not be much of friends anymore, but I hate what he puts her through and now here he is working on me. And then my eyes drift to the mason jar on my nightstand and Roman’s use of the word try. I don’t like it.
Roman’s quiet beside me and I wonder if he’s fallen asleep when I glance over at him. His eyes are on his beer. He’s concentrating, deep in thought with the way his brow is scrunched. “Would you have let me?”
I raise an eyebrow, curling my legs up and wrapping my arms around them. “Have sex with me?” I don’t like this conversation or how it makes my stomach ache.
“Yes.”
“That’s a weird question to be asking me.”
“Answer it,” he demands, his voice harder than before.
I blink, unprepared for his harshness. “Answer what?”
“Stop avoiding the question.” Roman stares at me, his expression completely serious as he draws his brows together, piercing blue eyes narrowing. “Would you have let me?”
I draw in a quick breath and then slowly exhale, trying to make sense of his mood and my reaction to it. “No, I wouldn’t have.”
“Why not? Because I’m not Asa Lawson?”
My hands shake, my voice wavering. “Because I’ve never felt that way about you.”
He nods, a smirk on his lips. “Is that so?”
“Yes, I wouldn’t lie to you about that. We’re friends. We should just keep it that way.”
He shifts slightly, his eyes searching mine when he asks, “If I were to kiss you now, what would you do?”
“Tell you to stop.” My words are shaky, the nervousness in my stomach rolling. “I… love Asa.”
He snorts and twists his body away from me. “Everyone loves the golden boy. Their favorite football hero.”
I don’t reply. I don’t think he’s looking for a reply. I do think, jealous much? It’s a known fact Roman has always been jealous of Asa. He’s not the only one. I swear in middle school, if there was ever a poll for most loved, and most hated, Asa topped both lists unanimously, and was feared by just as many. To me, he’s always going to be the boy who saved me, but to others, they see him differently. He’s that guy, the one with the intimidating presence yet the smirk that draws you in and teases, tempts, only for him to ignore you completely. I know very well the clout he has around school. I just don’t see that side of him. I see the one holding me in the early hours of the morning and promising to see me through it regardless of what I can’t give him.
We’re quiet after that. Roman concentrates on his phone and then looks at me. I glance at his phone. He’s texting Codey, but all I focus on is the last reply from Roman that says, She’s not up for it I tried, bro.
What? He tried what? My eyes drift to his. He’s breathing heavily and I notice he’s lifted his leg, his foot flat on my bed. I don’t know why, but my stare hits his hands. My heart races, my stomach twisting. It’s one memory I have of that night. The man’s hand next to my head. I remember he had a tattoo on his hand. Roman doesn’t have any tattoos.
With an aggravated sigh, Roman leans forward and tucks his phone in his back pocket. Standing, he tugs at the front of his jeans. My throat feels tight, knowing why he’s doing that. Had our conversation made him hard? But why? That’s weird, isn’t it? “I gotta head out. Practice first thing in the morning.”
I nod, and he leaves without another word. When he closes the door behind him, nausea hits me. I reach for my pillow and curl my arms around it. The idea of Roman wanting me, I don’t like it. I feel disgusted with myself and angry for no reason. I’m glad I didn’t have sex with Roman back in high school. I know I would have regretted it.
My skin crawls to the point I start itching my skin obsessively.
She’s not up for it I tried, bro. What did that mean and why didn’t I have the guts to call him out on it?
I take a shower thinking it will help, but it doesn’t. I sit on the floor and cry, unable to stop the depression from taking over. You don’t realize how much strength it takes to pull yourself out of a dark place mentally, and tonight, I don’t have it in me.
I want Asa here, and I want so badly to tell him what Roman said to me, but I know if I do, he’ll go after him. He can’t. I can’t let him ruin his career over me. If he knew Roman had been in my room, alone with me, he’d be angry. Furious. And maybe even betrayed, though it meant nothing.
IT’S 4:00 A.M. I know Asa has his workout at five and him still being here means he’s running late. He texted me an hour ago and said he couldn’t wait another minute to see me. After what happened with Roman, I knew I needed him here more than anything, erasing the uneasiness with his body next to mine.
His breath expels in a gasp when I arch my back against his chest. He’s gripping my sheets and whispering words I can’t make out but sound like fuck and something else. With him cursing in my ear, I don’t feel dirty. I feel complete and needy, sexy and irresistible to him.
I push the palms of my hands to his face and bring his kiss to my lips. I’m searching for comfort and he’s the arms I need. I bleed and he tries to compress the wound. I crash, and he catches me, trying to hold the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“Jesus.” He grunts. Sitting back on his knees, he brings my legs over his shoulders, his hands on my upper thighs driving me into each thrust.
I cry out in pleasure, pleasure only he gives me.
Asa’s body slumps forward. My legs part and his forehead rests against mine, sweat-covered and panting, we make eye contact. “I never want to go three days without you again,” he whispers. His thrusts come faster now and he’s louder than before, panting and grunting with each movement, his chest sliding against mine.
I can feel when he’s close, but he stops for a moment, attempting to hold himself off but he can’t. He comes, unable to stop, the sudden fullness inside me as he swells, twitching as he releases. But he doesn’t pull out; instead, he mumbles against my lips, voice like gravel ripping my wounds open, “One more…” and goes for another.
I want that too. I want more I just don’t know how to give it, so I wrap my legs around him, drawin
g him in deeper. He groans at the position as his lips finally find mine. “Does it hurt?” he asks, always concerned if he’s hurting me. “I’ll stop if it hurts.”
I shake my head, my hands threading through his wet hair. “No. Don’t stop. It’s so good.”
A shiver works its way through me when he gives me more of his weight, his hands moving to under my bottom, driving himself into me a little harder. “Still okay?” He breaths heavily against my lips, his voice trembling.
I nod. “Harder.”
“What?”
“Do it harder,” I beg.
His body goes rigid, every muscle tensing. His eyes lock on mine. “No,” he says, sternly.
Tears flood my eyes. “Please? I know you want to.” My words are broken and frantic. I don’t want to lose the connection we have, but I need him to do this. If I was ever going to be okay, I had to have this. Or at least I thought that. If I had the good inside him, maybe the bad consuming my thoughts wouldn’t be so hard.
He touches my face, his thumb brushing over my cheek and the permanent reminder I have from that night. “I can’t hurt you. I won’t.”
“I’m not asking you to. I just want you… in that way. I want to see the man I know is in there. The one I know wants to fuck me.” I used Roman’s words. I’ve never said anything this crass to him before. Ever.
Shock hits his face, his brow furrowing, but his movements don’t stop. He stalls, yeah, for a fraction of a second. I see the emotions working over his face. The confusion. The need. The love. All of it. He’d give anything to make me whole again. Even… this.
Giving me intoxicating kisses, he’s searching for an answer, one I can’t give. But then his movements change and become more forceful. His grip tightens and his mouth moves to my neck, his lips at my ear as he breathes. “I love you. Never forget that.” And then he slams into me harder than before, my breath expelling in a gasp.