by Lea Coll
“Yeah, just some kids from school.” His eyes were on the floor as I tried to assess whether he was telling me the truth.
I grabbed a bag of peas from the freezer and handed it to him as he slouched onto my couch. I was relieved he was here but scared he’d gotten into something he couldn’t handle. “Why did they beat you up?”
“They give me a hard time. Nothing new.”
“Zach, tell me what happened,” I said firmly.
Zach’s shoulders slumped. “They caught me studying in the library, so they gave me a hard time.”
That’s right. When we’d first met, he’d mentioned how it wasn’t cool to study at his school. That he had to hide his books and pretend not to care. I didn’t want him to give up though. “I’m sorry, man. That sucks.” When he was silent, I continued, “I know it’s hard. Just keep doing what you're doing. After graduation things will get better. You can go to tech school or college and get a job. You just got to stick with it for a while longer. They’ll probably drop out soon.”
“I hope so.” Zach muttered. “Don’t forget my mom wants me to quit.”
“That’s not happening. We’ll figure something out.” The worst thing he could do was walk away from his diploma.
“You can’t help me.” Zach’s voice was resigned.
I waited until he looked at me and said firmly, “I will.”
I knew he hadn’t heard many promises in his life or if he did they probably weren’t kept. I knew what it was like to grow up without hope for anything better. I couldn’t let him quit. I’d figure something out.
Could Taylor help? Would she have any ideas? No, she was too naïve. She had no idea what it was like to grow up the way we did. I couldn’t talk to her. There was still this fear in the back of my mind that she’d go to family services.
“Are you hungry?” I reverted to our best method of communication. Keeping him fed. He could count on me for that. I couldn’t help with much else and not for the first time, I hated the fact I’d screwed my life up when I was younger. That my conviction would forever be on my record. If only I could save him from the same fate.
I fed him dinner, packed a container of leftovers for him, and told him to keep ice on his eye. As part of our routine, I made him promise to stay home tonight.
The entire evening at work, my mind remained on Zach and his situation.
“You see your girl showed up to help?” Isaac tilted his head toward the end of the bar where Taylor now leaned, her breasts spilling out of her tight blank tank top.
“She’s not my girl,” I murmured but I was already making my way toward her. I forced myself to meet her sparkling blue eyes.
I took the order slip out of her hand, leaned my elbows on the countertop, and spoke into her ear. “Are you doing this on purpose?”
She smiled. “Is it working?”
My cock twitched in my jeans. “It’s having the desired effect.”
Her eyes widened.
“Now’s not the time or place, babe.”
Her cheeks turned pink. “Sorry,” she said softly.
“I don’t think you’re sorry at all.”
“I’m not.” She gestured at her top. “This really helps my tips.”
I growled.
Smirking, she flounced back to her tables and I couldn’t stop watching her ass in the tight jeans she wore. I wanted to know if she’d put panties on. I could only assume she had since she seemed like a good girl but I wanted to dirty her up—make her bad.
“Are you going to make those drinks?” Isaac grabbed the slip out of my fingers.
“All yours.”
“Nope. Taylor’s all yours.” Isaac slapped the slip down in front of me. I wanted to protest, but suddenly the thought of Taylor being mine didn’t sound so bad. She fit in at my bar. The customers liked her. She worked without complaint. Maybe we had more in common than I thought. But was it enough to start a physical relationship? I very much wanted to find out, even if it turned out to be a bad idea.
The bar was hopping tonight, and I didn’t have another second to think about Taylor until later when she asked to take a phone call in the office. When she didn’t come back after ten minutes, I asked Anna to cover for me while I checked on her.
The door was slightly ajar so I pushed it all the way open. Taylor sat on the couch supporting her head in her hand, her elbow resting on her knee. “Are you sure? I can be on a flight out tomorrow morning.” Her voice was strained like she was trying not to cry.
I hesitated at the doorway. I didn’t know what to do with a crying female. Usually when women got emotional with me, I cut them loose. I didn’t want to intrude on a private moment but at the same time I wanted to know why she was upset. I closed the door with a soft click.
Her head turned toward the sound and her eyes widened in surprise. “Mom, I have to go, I’m still working.” She stood, smoothing her apron. “Yeah, I told you I’m waitressing at night.” She rolled her eyes at me. “No, Mom. I don’t need money. I’m just helping a friend. Mom, I have to go. Thanks for calling and letting me know what’s going on, but if you need me I’m there, okay?” She said goodbye and tucked her phone in her back pocket.
“Sorry, about that.” Her face was a careful mask, but I could see her eyes were watery.
“There’s nothing to be sorry about.” I stepped closer, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.
She sucked in a breath and turned away from me.
“Are you okay?”
She waved me off. “Oh yeah. I’m fine. That was my mom.”
“Yeah, got that. Is everything okay at home?” I knew it wasn’t. I wished she wouldn’t lie to me.
Her lips were in a tight line and I could tell she was wondering whether it was a good idea to confide in me. “It’s my brother.”
I tried to rack my brain to remember what she’d told me about her brother, but I couldn’t. Maybe it was when we met, and I’d been so annoyed by her presence I didn’t focus on her words. I wanted her to trust me—to tell me what was going on that had her so upset, even if I had no right to know.
“Caleb wandered out of the house. By the time the cops found him, he was really upset and they had trouble calming him down. You know, not everyone knows how to deal with someone who’s autistic. And people often know of high-functioning autistic people but not someone as severely disabled as my brother.” She let out an agitated breath. “I worry about my parents. It wasn’t a big deal when he was younger, but now he’s an adult. He’s too big to physically restrain him.” She took a few deep breaths.
My face wrinkled in confusion. Why did I not remember she had a disabled brother? Had she told me?
“My mom always says I have this calming effect on him and I’m worried that me being here isn’t good for him.” Her eyes were filled with pain.
She stood abruptly, brushing tears off her face. “I’m sorry. I’m sure you don’t want to hear about this. I don’t know what I was thinking. It’s not a big deal.”
But I could tell it was. It was a huge deal to her. Her body was tightly strung like she was waiting for me to say something—something that would hurt her. Did she think I would judge her because her brother was autistic? “You’re upset.”
“I need to get back to work.” She tried to walk past me, but I touched her arm.
“Take a second. Just breathe.” I was still stuck on the fact that she had a severely disabled brother and she was torn on what to do. It made her real—I could relate to wanting the best for someone but not knowing how to go about it. I’d been so wrong about her the day we met—she wasn’t spoiled or privileged. It gave me hope that she’d understand my situation with Zach.
I wanted to be there for her. I wanted to say the right thing but I wasn’t sure what that would be.
Chapter Eight
TAYLOR
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you had a disabled brother.”
“I haven’t told anyone. Not since I moved.” I cleared my t
hroat. “It’s a lot to deal with and here, I’m just me.” I looked into his eyes challenging him to say something. “I know that sounds selfish, but you have no idea what it was like growing up—how much care he requires. What it’s like being the one who’s able to calm him down. My parents relied on me. Caleb needed me. It felt good, but sometimes it would be nice to not have that responsibility.” I stopped to take a breath. Why was I laying everything out there for Gabe? “I have to get back to work.”
“I’m your boss and I say you can take a minute.”
I tilted my head and raised a brow. “Are you now? Just whenever it’s convenient for you? Otherwise I’m a friend doing you a favor?”
Gabe encircled my wrist, his thumb rubbing my pulse point, his voice soft and soothing. “Don’t. Don’t try and distract me from what just happened. You don’t look ready to go back out there.”
I opened my mouth to disagree but he said, “Don’t say you’re fine. Don’t lie to me.”
I was surprised Gabe checked on me—that he was worried about me. I sighed, feeling some of the tension release. “I’m not fine.”
He guided me with his hand still around my wrist to the couch. I sank into the black leather cushions, suddenly exhausted.
He sat close, his leg touching mine, and his arm around the back of the couch behind me.
I wanted to lay my head back on his shoulder but I didn’t. “I left him with my parents.”
“Are you upset you’re so far away from him when there’s a problem?” he asked gently.
“That’s part of it.” Why wasn’t he telling me I was selfish for leaving Caleb? “You’re not going to say anything?”
“What do you think I’m going to say?”
“That I’m a bitch for moving away from home when my brother clearly needs me. My parents need me.” I couldn’t look at him while I wanted for his response.
“Your parents are responsible for him—not you.”
“I feel horrible for wanting a break—for wanting freedom—for traveling halfway across the country to find it. I guess I assumed everyone else would feel the same way.”
“Well, I don’t.” Anger crossed his face. “Do your parents say that to you?”
“God. No. They didn’t influence me one way or the other. I stayed home by choice when I attended college and law school.”
“So they didn’t ask you to?”
“No, they didn’t. It’s just this feeling I have. That he needs me, my parents need me—that my being there makes it easier for them. They can’t leave him with anyone else. They can’t go on vacation. They can’t take him to any new places because he gets agitated.”
“That’s tough.”
His hand moved from wrist to my hand, which he squeezed in what felt like a show of support.
“It is.” Tears threatened to spill over.
“You’re an amazing sister and daughter.”
I tried to smile through the tears. “How can you possibly know that?”
“Because you feel bad, because you worry, because you want to be there for them, and you have been there. You’ve put your life on hold to be there for them. Then you did the most amazing thing and moved here to give yourself a chance at a life on your own—to explore a new place. Don’t feel badly about it. You deserve a life too.”
“But don’t my parents deserve a life?” He was saying all of the right things—things I’d refused to believe in the past when my school guidance counselor tried to convince me I could go away to college or when my parents suggested I move out during law school.
“This is not on you.”
“I wish I could believe that.” I leaned my head back on the couch, relaxing into the soft cushions.
“You’re amazing, you know that?”
My eyes popped open.
“You are.” He cupped my face in his hands. “You feel so much for other people. You care.”
He lowered his head and I gripped his forearms as his lips brushed softly over mine, once, twice, until my lips parted. I tilted my head, taking the kiss deeper. I couldn’t get enough. I wanted more. Just as I thought he was going to pull me into his arms, a loud knock sounded on the closed door.
Gabe
My hands dropped from her face as her eyes widened. I stood, opening the door. Isaac looked from Taylor’s flushed cheeks to me and said, “It’s crazy out there. We need you.” Then he turned on his heel and stalked back down the hall toward the bar.
“Taylor—"
“We need to get back to work.” Then she was gone. I was left watching the spot she’d just stood, wondering what the fuck just happened. I’d never felt closer to anyone than in that moment. She’d opened herself up to me, she’d told me something I knew she hadn’t confided in anyone else, and then she’d allowed me to kiss her.
I couldn’t make myself move to the bar. Instead, I remembered the way she’d clung to my forearms as I’d cupped her face, her body angling ever closer to mine, like she couldn’t get close enough. In the moment where she should have felt the most vulnerable, I was. The act of her opening up to me felt like a precious gift. My heart sped up and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. I rubbed my neck to ward off the feeling of panic setting in.
I didn’t have time to think about what just happened. Isaac needed me. I quickly got back into the rhythm of serving drinks until the bar emptied out and I realized Taylor left for the night without saying goodbye. And I wasn’t upset. I was relieved. I didn’t want to face her right now. Not when that intimate moment had sparked a fight or flight response in me. I knew I’d fuck up anything I’d say to her. I’d hurt her just like I always feared.
“Everything okay with you and Taylor?” Isaac asked, placing the chairs up on the tables.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”
“It looked like I interrupted something in the office earlier.”
I slammed the glasses down on the countertop rougher than I intended but didn’t answer.
“I didn’t think you liked her.”
That was a complicated question. “I don’t want to like her.”
“Are you going to do something about it?”
I paused cleaning to look at Isaac. “That’s the question.”
I’d thought Taylor was spoiled when we met, but now I knew she was selfless, the best kind of person and the worst. I’d damage her. I’d destroy her. I couldn’t do that to her. I was no good. Everyone knew that.
Chapter Nine
TAYLOR
His hands traveled down my skin, goosebumps erupting in their wake, over my puckered nipples, my quivering stomach, until his shoulders spread my legs and his fingers parted my folds. He licked from my opening to my clit as I fisted the sheets beneath my hands. Nothing had ever felt so good. I dropped my head back and closed my eyes, focusing on his tongue, his fingers slowly entering me, and the scruff of his face on the soft skin of my inner thighs. It was a delicious combination of soft, wet, and rough.
His fingers pumped inside me at a steady rhythm and his tongue circled my clit, and when he sucked hard, I exploded for him. “Gabe!” He continued until my tremors subsided. Then he moved back up the bed, placing kisses on my body until he reached my mouth. He gathered me in his arms, cradling me close, his lips on the hair by my temple. His voice was soft and husky from sleep as he said, “I love—”
I jerked upright in bed, but I was alone, my body humming with need. In my dream there was an overwhelming sense of vulnerability, openness, yearning to be close to someone. We’d both been naked in my dream—nothing between us. I’d never felt anything that intense. I wrapped my arms around myself, suddenly chilly. Did Gabe think that kiss was a mistake?
I left without saying goodbye last night because I was afraid of his reaction. What if he didn’t feel the same way after the kiss we’d shared in his office? Was I alone in the intimacy of that moment? I’d revealed my innermost fears and secret shame to the one person who’d thought the worst of me since the day we�
�d met. But he’d been understanding, sweet, supportive, and then there was that kiss. Had I ever felt so cherished? It wasn’t rough or passionate. It was nothing like I’d expected from him. Instead, he’d cradled my face, he’d slowly lowered his lips to mine, my whole body vibrating with wanting, his breath mingling with mine. And when our lips finally touched in the lightest, barest of touches, it was like something had exploded in my brain—a sense of rightness and completeness.
But that couldn’t be right. No one had intense feelings like that in a first kiss with someone they’d just met. It had to be his unexpected reaction to what I’d told him. I’d expected recrimination, harsh words, someone to reiterate what I felt—that what I was doing was wrong. I’d made a mistake moving here. I was selfish. And when he’d said and done the opposite, endorphins rushed to my brain, making me lightheaded.
He’d probably step back. He’d tell me to stop coming to the bar. I leaned against my headboard. I should feel relieved. But I didn’t. I felt bereft. As if he’d been covering me with his warm body heat and had removed himself, leaving me cold and alone. I shivered again, pulling the blankets tighter around me, sinking into the soft pillows.
I couldn’t be with anyone, not when I had a brother to care for, a family that needed me. I didn’t need anyone tying me to the city. Not when I had to go back. I’d come here to experience freedom—to do something on my own. There was no way I could stay, no matter how much I loved the city, how strongly this man affected me. My time here was temporary. My brother would always need me. This was a break from my real life—the only one I could ever have.
It wasn’t a hardship. I loved Caleb. Even when we couldn’t play the way other brothers and sisters did—when I couldn’t go to the same schools as him—when I couldn’t hang out with my friends because I was needed at home. We’d been lucky that Caleb wasn’t violent like I’d heard other kids with his condition could be. He was expressive and loving even though he couldn’t speak.