by Anna Bloom
Jack stepped swiftly back into my space, crowding me, suffocating me with his tall frame and burning anger. “And when you need me again; when you no longer remember how to feel? What then?”
A sob tore from my throat and I spun away. “Then it’s time for me to find someone else who can make me feel, make me play.”
Silence lapsed chilling my veins and I turned, dreading what emotion I would find on his face. The door swung shut in his wake and my knees sagged as I collapsed to the floor.
God forgive me. But lying was the only way.
Hell exists in Boston and it comes in the form of a daily slog with little relief.
Shaun Parks, my new teaching aide, was patient, kind, and nurturing. So why did I crave the fire and hate of Jack?
Jack and I were back on non-speaking terms post kiss and subsequent heartbreak in my dorm room. Every day it became harder not to run home.
What was I fighting for? What was I staying for? I wanted to be home by now. All ‘Sorry, Grams, I fucked up’, but now there was a sick part of me that wanted to stay just so Jack could not speak to me.
How fucked up was that? I was staying just so he could ignore me and me him.
It was like we were still fighting in the playground over whose turn it was on the swing.
“Personally, I don’t think you should come tonight.” Eva smacked her lips together to blot her deep-purple lipstick.
“Oh, nice. You want to ditch me now?”
“No… It’s just…” She grinned as she stared at herself in the mirror. I sat on the pulled down toilet seat hugging my knees with my arms as I watched her get ready. I was ready. I’d put a clean shirt on. Done. “Well, this mope you’ve been in since last week… God, it’s a bore.”
“Thanks.” I scowled but I didn’t really have it in me to keep it up. She wasn’t wrong.
“Is it the new teaching aide? Is it because he had gravy down his tie even in the morning and he smells like a boys locker room?”
“Eva! Don’t be unkind.”
Chuckling to herself, she pressed her index finger under her eye to catch a smudge of eyeliner. “Is it because Mr. Cross has been working one on one with Brittany and she always comes back breathless and flushed?”
Ah that.
I curled my fingers into my palms, cutting at my skin with my nails.
I’d take up voodoo—Grams would be proud—but I’d think it would be a bit obvious. I hadn’t even mentioned anything to Eva, but she seemed pretty clued up. I could only wonder who else had noticed the strange vibe between Jack and myself.
He didn’t even make eye contact with me in lectures, never asked me a question. It was like I no longer existed.
Ironic, when clearly I hadn’t existed within the boundaries of his new life for so long.
The more days that had passed since I’d seen him with Miriam Collins… the picture perfect couple, the more I hated whatever life he’d been living here. The more I resented the way he’d left us behind, Luca and me, without so much as a backward glance. The more I wanted to call his mom and say, ‘Hey, I found Jack, but he’s a number one A-hole now, and you’re better off without him’. Because I would say that… I would.
I dropped my head onto my knees and groaned. “You’re right. I shouldn’t come.”
I couldn’t blame her. Who wanted to take a dark cloud of doom to a party?”
Turning, Eva leaned back against the basin and folded her arms across her chest. “You probably shouldn’t,” she agreed. “But if you don’t, how will you ever see what the Collins’ mansion is like? And Alex did ask you… as in ask you specifically if you wanted to come… to his house… which is a mansion… have I mentioned that bit?”
Lifting my head, I rolled my eyes. “You know it will be all faux Roman columns and white marble.”
“I don’t have a personal issue with white marble, and there will be beer, and music, and did I mention, beer. And if you stay here you will be all alone—again. Seriously, what have you done this week other than go to work, lectures, or sit in this room brooding?” She worked an eyebrow. “It’s like you’re lovesick.”
I snorted and dropped my head again.
“So, you coming?”
“Yeah,” I sighed, talking into my knees.
“Good. Come on. Alex is giving us a ride.”
“Yay.”
Okay, to be fair to the Collins family, and their white supremacist selves, the house wasn’t the Neo-classical monstrosity I expected.
More super large wood cabin. And when I say large, I mean you could fit my entire block at home onto the grounds. The grounds themselves were a deep and dark forest; the house, red brick, an accent of woods blending perfectly with the setting. Inside, all warm colors but minimalist furniture—that or everything had been put away because Alex was having a party.
“Drinks are in the kitchen.” Alex pointed down a hall that led to the left of the house. “Pool is out back.” He hung an arm around my shoulder, leaning into my space so he could wiggle his eyebrows. “Don’t worry if you forgot your bathers, I have a full nudity policy.”
Chuckling, I elbowed him in the ribs. “No thanks, it’s way too cold.”
“Aha! I hoped you’d say that. Hot tub and steam room are just that way.” He pointed to the right of the enormous open back of the house. “I’m joking,” he whispered softly in my ear. “You can get a drink first.”
I froze as he pressed his lips into my cheek and squeezed around the back of my shoulders. Okay. We were not kissing kind of friends. At all.
I trawled back through all our interactions together trying to remember if I’d ever given him the go ahead for kissing.
“Right, drinks.” I ducked out of his embrace. I needed to draw some lines for Alex Collins, as apparently, he didn’t have any of his own.
Eva’s revelations from the dressing room of the occasion wear shop the other day were still firmly imprinted in my mind; and honestly, if Alex was someone to trust, I didn’t know. Didn’t really want to know.
“There’s a keg in the kitchen. I know how you love warm beer.” He winked and chuckled while I stared really hard at him and tried very hard to like him… like like him like him.
When there was no corresponding tingle in my core, I decided that warm beer would serve me better. “Come on, Eva. Don’t try and keep me away from room temperature alcohol.”
She mock gasped. “I never would.”
Turning, we headed in the direction he’d pointed, not that hard to work out where given the noise coming from the other side of the door. How did he know this many people?
My feet tripped over a thick cream-colored rug, bouncing me into a low leather sofa. The impact broke my connection with Eva’s arm. She didn’t realize and kept her eyes on the prize of the booze in the kitchen, leaving me to right myself and rub at my throbbing thigh.
A hand gripped my arm, holding me upright. My skin erupted into goose bumps and I didn’t have to look up.
“Too much to drink already, Lyra?” Jack’s low voice rumbled deep, vibrating my eardrum.
I pulled back and met his gaze.
“Crashing student parties are we now, Mr. Cross?”
A flash of fury darted across his face, but I held firm.
A loud peal of laughter rippled from the other side of the room and I caught a flash of dark hair. “Ah, you and your girlfriend are the chaperones,” I surmised, stepping back, ice running though my veins. “How very grown up.”
“Lyra.” Jack wound his hand around my arm. “For God’s sake. I need to talk to you.”
“Jack, don’t touch a student in public. What would people think?” I pushed it too far, I knew it. Jack’s temper had always been short, a great source of amusement to Luca over the years.
Someone charged through the room, screaming, while another gave chase, causing a cheer of shouting to lift like a cloud, “Beer pong!”
As the crush swept through between the fireplace on the far wall and the
sofa where we stood, Jack pulled me sharply by the arm, weaving me behind him, through the main entranceway and up the wide sweeping stairs leading to the second floor.
“Jack, for goodness’ sake!”
He didn’t stop, pulling me so fast my feet stumbled over the steps, taking them two at a time. At the top, he pushed open a door and yanked me into a dark room where the shadowy shape of a large white bed was all I could see.
“Really?
He shook his head, stepping toe to toe with me, his hand sliding along my jaw and cradling my face. “I need to talk to you, Lyra, and you’ve done a fair job of avoiding me all week.”
“Jack, there isn’t anything left to talk about. I see it all now for what it is, what it was.”
His touch on my face burned my skin. “What do you see, Lyra?”
“That this is your life now. That you don’t care about me anymore.” God, why did my chest ache so much? Breathing hurt.
He shifted closer still, his breath fanning across my face. Somewhere in the back of my mind I noted that it smelled of mint, not bourbon. “You think I don’t care about you? Didn’t you listen to a word I said in the storeroom at Blue’s? That I didn’t want you to leave.”
“But you don’t want me either and why would you? Your girlfriend looks like a supermodel, and her family is rich, if not corrupt.”
A silence began to stretch between us. “What about before you played? What happened between us?” Are you saying you didn’t play for me? Because I…”
“What, kissed me? Made me feel?”
I wished he’d let go of my face.
“Lyra, will you listen to me?” He moved closer, tilting my face, his breath brushing over my lips, a sliver away from touching me.
“Jack.”
“No! No more Jack. I can’t stand it. Can’t stand being Jack. I want to be Blue again. Want you to—” he cut himself off.
“Want me to what?”
“Listen. Just listen. I’ll tell you everything.”
The way he said it though, I knew he was lying. He’d tell me what he wanted me to know.
“Please, Lyra. This week has been hell. I can’t believe you’ve been in that practice room with dickhead Shaun all week.”
“He’s very patient, understanding…” I goaded. “Never shouts.”
“Does he do this though?” Jack’s lips smashed into mine, not soft, not seeking, but hard, demanding, punishing. And I sagged against him.
No. No one could do that apart from Jack.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Jack
The taste of Lyra. There wasn’t anything else like it in all existence. No drug, no alcohol, no fine wine.
Her tongue slipped hot against mine, and I smiled against her mouth. Her show of resistance had been just that — a show.
My fingers wove into her hair, tangling into the curls, and our breath pressed out of our lungs like a symphony. When her body relaxed against mine, I slowly unhooked my mouth from hers. “Now, are you listening?” I smiled against her skin, pressing my lips into the warmth. Standing in the dark brought back distant memories of landing through her bedroom window, my feet thudding onto her worn floorboards, knowing that of all the places I could have run, bruised and injured to, she was the only one I wanted.
“I know your distraction techniques, Jack.”
Ah, there it was again, the name of the man I didn’t want to be.
I caught her hand, peeling my body away from hers, the craving for more of her sweeping through my veins like wildfire. Her chest heaved, those luscious tits she hid under old worn plaid rising up and down with the fall of her breath.
“Trust me?”
“Never,” she answered into the dark, but I didn’t believe her, or chose not to.
I weaved our fingers and tugged her after me toward the window. I pushed up the wooden sash.
“I’m not jumping out of the window.” She pulled back slightly, but I kept hold of her hand.
“Think of it as a leap of faith.”
“Funny.”
Holding back the voile panel, I gestured out onto the low roof. “See, not plummeting to our death, but rather going somewhere we can be alone.”
Sensing her hesitation, I sat on the window’s sill and swung my legs out easily, planting my footing on the roof just below. I turned back for the window and reached for her, grasping my hands around her waist and pulling her to the edge. “You’ve jumped out of a window for me once before.”
“Mm. Past tense.” She laughed but it jangled almightily off key.
“Lyra, please.” How many times could I beg this girl? It seemed to be all I ever said.
She sat on the window and edged over the sill. I caught her, clutching her against me so she landed against my body and not on the roof. I swear my dick stood to attention, pushing against her thighs as I slowly lowered her down.
Another nervous laugh. This one I understood.
Holding her hand tight, I led her along to where the slope of the main house roof met the flat one we were on. “Just a climb and then we can sit out of view.”
“Surely there’s a bathroom we can lock ourselves into if secrecy is your thing.”
“And how would you plan for us to walk out of the bathroom without everyone seeing? You getting sent home in disgrace to Grams, not to mention what Luca would say?” I pulled the big brother card, while hoping to God that he never found out about us. I was beginning to enjoy life again, well sort of, excluding the torture of the last week. I sure as hell didn’t want it to end now.
I pulled her up behind me onto the roof. Out of sight from anyone walking along the driveway. I motioned for her to sit down. She eyed me warily but then complied. I pulled the two bottles of beer I’d pocketed out of the back of my jeans and sat down next to her, twisting the lids off and pinging them to the ground below.
“Here.” I offered her a bottle and then tapped the necks together.
“Jack, really. What’s going on? Beer on a roof?”
Pulling my knees up to balance myself, I rested my forearms on them and stared at the black sky. “This is the most like me I’ve felt in ages.”
“Drinking on a roof?”
Smiling, I shook my head. “No, sitting with you. Feeling the way that I once did, that anything was possible.”
“It is. You’ve proved that. Look at you, Jack. A business owner? A member of faculty staff? I’d say you’ve made everything possible.”
“You ignoring me this week has cut like a bitch, Lyra.”
She took a long sip of her beer. “It seemed better this way,” she said after she’d swallowed.
“Better for who?”
“Well, me.” She sighed, but shivered slightly, and I realized like a dumbass how cold it was up on the roof.
“Here, hold this.” I passed her my bottle and then pulled my jersey off over my head, handing it to her in exchange for my drink back. She hesitated. “Put it on, Lyra. You’ll catch a cold.”
“Now you sound like Grams, fussing like an old woman.” She pulled it on though, and I loved seeing my favorite shade of green across her body.
“So how has ignoring me, getting me in trouble with my boss for asking for a different tutor, and basically being rude all week been better?”
She studied the top of her bottle before finally lifting her gaze and saying, “You hurt me, Jack, the night you left, and then that amazing relief I felt when I found you here. You crushed me with the way you acted that first week. No, not crushed me, you made me feel stupid for even thinking of you the last four years.”
I nodded.
“You said I didn’t know what you’d done to be here. But that’s because I had no idea you would be here. I thought you were—”
“Dead?” I prompted. “Believe me, Lyra, for a long time I wanted to be.” Absentmindedly, I reached for a strand of her hair, sliding my fingers down its length. Her perfectly plump lips opened slightly, her tongue peeking out to lick them. “I’m
going to talk. Tell you what I can.”
With a dark gaze she held up two fingers. “One, why? And, two, why not tell me everything?”
I dropped my head, rolling my neck in a circle on my shoulders, trying to ease the tight tension. “I told you the other night, in Blue’s, that I don’t think I can’t see you now that I have again.”
Another flick of her tongue. My stomach tightened.
“And you say you don’t know who I am, don’t recognize me in the life I have here. You’ve ignored me all week, like the man you’ve found repulses you, so maybe if you knew the truth, that look in your eyes right now would lessen.”
She mulled over my words for a moment and then inclined her head. “Eva will be looking for me soon.”
“She’ll never find us up here,” I said, catching her hand and lifting it to my lips. “But I need you to lie down and keep your eyes closed while I talk okay?”
Both her eyebrows disappeared into her hairline, hidden beneath the tight curls of new hair growth I knew she had once hated.
“Lyra, please.” There it was again, her name like a whispered prayer on my lips.
Without a word and with her gaze holding mine, she slowly lowered to the tiles, stretching her body to get comfortable. My baggy sweater hinted at every curve underneath and my tongue tingled with dryness.
“The night I left.”
Her eyes flashed open and I chuckled, the sound drifting into the still, night air.
“Eyes closed remember?” Gently I brushed her eyelids with the tips of my fingers. She settled back with a sigh. “The night I left, I never planned to.”
God, I almost wanted her to talk to make it easier.
“I was with you in your room, and… and well, it took all of my strength to climb out of your window without getting everything that I wanted.”
She swallowed. I wondered if she’d thought of that night the way I had. Despite my anger, I’d never been able to erase it from my memory.