Good Intentions (Welcome to Paradise) (Volume 2)

by S. L. Scott

  “This fucking sucks!” My anger is getting the best of me. Maybe it’s grief I’m feeling. I don’t know, but I do know this sucks.

  “We knew this was coming,” she says, much calmer than me.

  “I can be pissed if I want. Can you let me be pissed? Wait, you’re not? You’re just gonna accept this bullshit?”

  “Evan…” Her voice instantly soothes me as my name rolls off her tongue like she’s said it for years. “I have to leave. I don’t want to leave, but I have to.” She tucks her head against my chest, fists my t-shirt, and loses eye contact with me as she whispers, “Don’t make me be the strong one because I can’t. I’m not. I need you to be the brave one here. Remember last night...”

  I chased her down the path. Although, we got caught in another rainstorm, we laugh, both of us a bit delirious from the day. She’s about to reach for the door when I catch her.

  “Not so fast, pretty girl,” I say, feeling the electricity between us.

  She smiles and I die inside knowing that I won’t get to see her face every day. I’ve been spoiled by this sweet angel giving me all her days and nights. I possessively take hold of her wrists and like so many fun-loving times before, the air stills as our connection intensifies. I can’t help myself when it comes to her and I refuse not to take what I need and give her what she wants.

  I kiss her.

  Rain pours down harder and I wrap my arms around her, engulfing her body, her love, her soul. I shamelessly take possession of what’s mine and claim her once again.

  She breaks away from me and giggles, but it’s shallow, followed by an anxious laugh, one that borders on fun and heavier emotions. The moment sinks in and she knows where this is going.

  “I’m cold, let’s go inside,” she says, taking my hand. She leads me into the bathroom, our dripping clothes hanging heavy like my heart just looking at her.

  Tomorrow… tomorrow… tomorrow.

  She doesn’t leave until tomorrow. Make the most of today.

  She starts the shower then backs up and takes her clothes off, slowly peeling them away from her rain-drenched skin. Tilting her head, she narrows her eyes busting me, sometimes feeling like she knows me better than I know myself. I’m memorizing this moment and everything that’s contained within it, needing to remember all of it. These are the memories that I’ll hold onto, when we’re apart.

  “C’mon,” she whispers, her breath sending shivers against my cold body as she lifts my shirt up.

  Once naked, she pulls me under the warm water and hugs her body to mine. I stroke down her slickened hair, holding my lips pressed firmly to hers, needing to feel her like this.

  She lets out the smallest of moans—a moan of pleasure escaping from a smile. She doesn’t look up, but says, “Hold me.” She sounds confident in what she wants, in what she needs.

  I strain to look down, lowering my head so I can see her hidden face. She smiles and I can’t help but think aloud. “You look so fucking innocent right now. No makeup, hair all wet, and stuck to your head. Tell me I didn’t corrupt you this summer. That this is what you want, baby?”

  “You know I went into this with my eyes wide open.”

  “No, I need to hear the words. Tell me I’m what you want, that I can actually make you happy.”

  “Don’t doubt yourself. You’re all I want and I’ve wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you.” Her eyes look up in thought and she corrects herself, “Okay, maybe not the first time I saw you because we all remember that, but you had me at the restaurant where we really talked for the first time.” She looks down. “You knew me even then. You saw beyond all the bullshit. You saw me, the real me. You had me all figured out and though I wouldn’t have admitted then, everything you said was true.”

  I lift her chin up and kiss her sweetly like she deserves. “I want you. I always fucking want you and it scares the shit out of me. I don’t want to disappoint you like I have everyone else.” My heart is racing with the energy flowing between us and I close my eyes, inhaling her into me. “I want to be all that you need and this separation is really freaking me the fuck out.”

  My hand gravitates toward my hair for some comfort tugging, but she grabs it and says, “No. You’re not going to do this. I can’t go there. And I’m begging you, Evan, don’t go down that road either. My heart…” She sniffles as her eyes well with tears. “Kiss me and make the world go away just for a little while, babe. Will you do that for me?”

  Our eyes meet and we spend a moment looking into the others’, reading the fear and the love that mingles within. I move slowly down and kiss her forehead, her nose, her eyelids, her cheeks, and her chin before I kiss her lips again—soft and gentle, not rushed, but sensual.

  “I want to make love to you tonight.” I reach behind her and turn the shower lever off.

  Grabbing a towel from the hook, I wrap it around her and then wrap my own towel around myself. As we dry our bodies, our love draws us back together. We kiss, wet hair, dewy skin, high on emotions, we kiss, giving our all.

  Silently following her into the bedroom, it’s quiet, almost too quiet, but we’re not sad, more reflective and grateful for the remaining hours together. We don’t want to fill the hours with nonsense or drown in the unknown of what lies ahead, so we stay quiet, settling onto the mattress. My arm goes out, welcoming her into my side. She snuggles and we lay there appreciating what seems to be the last of the calm before the storm of reality that will separate us.

  We lay there, eyes open, unmoving, deepened breathing, lost in our own thoughts for hours. Several times I feel a small yawn against my side. Sometimes she smiles, but stays silent, her own thoughts making her react.

  But the silence starts messing with my head. I don’t want silence. I want Mallory’s laughter, her words, her voice, and her breath to swallow me whole, to take me under, and fill my soul as she’s done for the last two months.

  I roll over, needing the change in scenery, but seeing her face, eyes, lips… I have to kiss her. My more selfish side takes over and I lean forward. I run my thumb across her bottom lip before clearing the way for my own lips.

  We’ve spent the entire day in one long session of foreplay building up to this moment. I push my hips, rolling her onto her back as I position myself between her legs. The look in her eyes is strong, willing, vulnerable, and sincere. I enter her. She’s soft and overwhelming, grounding me to her with every breath that she takes.

  I struggle for control—one side needing to take her and to own her completely. The other side, never wanting this to end—giving into her, total surrender of heart, mind, and soul.

  My mind is in overdrive as I make love to her knowing this will be the last time for a while, maybe forever. It’s hard to digest this concept that is starting to override my pleasure. I want to lose myself in her as I’ve done all summer, but I can’t. So I watch her intently as she seems to have the same struggles. For some reason, it’s a relief to see her waging her own internal battle.

  Even with the warring, that familiar feeling starts spreading from my groin to my stomach and outward to all of my limbs. With barely enough sense remaining in my brain, I move to stroke her. Her battle dissolves before my eyes and under my hand.

  Falling as she does, I push her hands tightly against the mattress and both of us vocalizing our release and submission to each other.

  “Goodbye’s are bullshit,” I mumble, walking out the door and up the path. I throw her suitcase into the trunk and load her carry-on into the backseat. Only ten minutes left until we have to leave.

  Ten minutes until she leaves.

  Ten minutes.

  I walk back into the house and see her anxiously shutting the top drawer of my dresser.

  “Hey,” I announce, not wanting her to think I was sneaking up on her.

  She turns abruptly, pressing her back against the dresser, clearly guilty of something. “Hey.” She walks over to the bed and flops down on it. “I guess that’s everything.”
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br />   Sitting down on the mattress next to her, she pulls me by the elbow and we fall backward. We take a minute to look at each other, really look, deep into each other’s eyes. The brilliant emerald flecks in her eyes shine through the worry lines creasing her forehead. Tears fill her eyes as she holds my gaze.

  She nods, the words she wants to say so obviously stuck in her throat. Clearing her throat as I catch her tear and gently wipe away its tracks, she says, “We should go or I’m gonna be late.”

  Like our morning, we don’t talk much on the drive to the airport. The reality and accompanying sinking feeling of her departure is all too real to me now. My hand never leaves her leg until I pull into the airport parking area. We get out, slow and unsure of ourselves, awkward even in these final moments.

  As we walk into the main terminal, she checks in, and then I follow her to the departures zone outside security. I’ve been here countless times before, but this is the only time it ever mattered. This is the only time my heart aches and tears fill my eyes.

  I don’t take my eyes off of her. My gaze doesn’t stray or care about who sees me or who I might see or the next group of girls landing for their vacation. I’m focused, desperately committing Mallory’s face, body, and smell to memory while I still have her with me. I don’t want her to doubt this moment or my feelings for her. But I especially don’t want her to be reminded of that first time we saw each other. The first time we made eye contact was over Kelly’s shoulder. So I remain, full attention on her, which is easy to do.

  I grab her, squeezing her against my body, one last time to appreciate all that is Mallory. This one last time I sense my heart will be whole.

  Muffled in my shirt, she says, “So here we are at the scene of the crime.”

  So much for hoping she doesn’t think about how we met. But I have to say, the only reason I’m not ashamed of my behavior that day is that it actually worked and brought me and Mallory together.

  I kiss the top of her head, and whisper, “You can trust me, baby. Will you?”

  “I already do.”

  I exhale in relief.

  “Evan?”

  “Yes,” I reply, holding her tightly to me, how she should always be.

  She sighs. “You told me to trust you, but don’t rely on—”

  “You can rely on me.”

  “I know I can now.” She smiles and I see the glorious trust she’s given me reflected in her eyes. Glancing over her shoulder at the growing security line, she says, “Guess I should go?” It’s more of a question than a statement.

  I feel her relax into me again, her arms tightening this time. “This is goodbye.”

  Closing my eyes, I tilt my head into her hair, holding the inevitable tears back. My voice is weak, so I only nod.

  “Flight 2678 to Denver Colorado is now boarding at gate 9.”

  “That’s me,” she says, letting her tears fall without care as all her stubborn strength leaves her. She gives in to what we both feel, weakening, her shoulders slumping as she begins to cry.

  I quickly take her face in my hands, maybe too aggressively, but I’m panicked and need to try one last time. “Don’t leave me. I can’t… I need you. I love you, Mallory.”

  Tears streak her pretty face, coloring her cheeks in red, sadness settling into her eyes. I kiss her. I kiss her for her sake and I kiss her selfishly for my own. My tongue mingles with hers knowing this is it. Is this, it it? Or is it, just for now it? I’m so freaked out I don’t realize how hard I’m squeezing her, holding her captive to me.

  “Baby…” She cries and then as if sounding out each word for herself, she whispers, “I have to leave.”

  Her wet lids and lashes lift to reveal those eyes that mean the world to me, but are now colored in pain. A small smile crosses her face finally reaching her eyes and she says, “You didn’t look away from me once. I saw at least four ‘next opportunities’ walk by and you didn’t even notice them.” She giggles as if she just realized how much she means to me, realizing how much I love her.

  “Why would I ever look at anyone else when I have you?”

  As she holds my hand, she holds my complete attention as well. “I love you. I’ll always love you, Evan. Carry that in your heart,” she says, tapping her palm on my chest.

  I need to say her name so she understands the importance of my words. “I love you, Mallory. You’re the only thing in my life worth living for and I will never hurt you.”

  “Flight 2678 to Denver Colorado is now boarding at gate 9.”

  She bends down taking her carry-on bag in hand and I take her other hand, walking the last ten feet with her, it feeling much like what I imagine a death row march feels like.

  When she turns to go, I jerk her back, hastily dipping her and kiss her hard, for my own selfish needs, for her, and for everyone to see.

  Movies, books, daydreams… girls dream of moments like this and I want to give her a moment that she’ll remember for the rest of her life. I plan to make many more memories with her, but this is how I want to send her back to Colorado.

  I keep my lips on hers as long as I can as my thumb rubs over the new ring I gave her. When I lift her back up, she looks a bit dazed. Bending my head to the side, I give her the smile that was created only for her.

  She stares into my eyes, mumbling something incoherently while pointing over her shoulder.

  I nod, taking a step back from the security line. She walks backward, and with a small wave of her fingers, she turns and walks away, leaving me standing there alone.

  I watch as she goes through security. Once on the other side, she glances back only once. We lock eyes and in that moment, I let her go. I have to, to protect myself. She leaves me there with an empty chest, my heart deciding long ago that it belonged to her, with her, and there it remains leaving with her.

  A cold wind blows as I walk to the car, abnormal for this time of year, but the universe understands loss and devastation, and responds accordingly.

  Shoving my hands in my pockets, my head lowers, feeling a new burden replacing the one I carried for years. This is the first time I’ve been worried about anything in a while and it’s unsettling the way it has taken hold of me.

  Inside my car, her scent surrounds me. I close my eyes and allow myself to enjoy it because I know the scent will fade soon. Remembering that she’s wearing my ring on her left hand ring finger makes me smile and I let that feeling tide me over for the time being.

  Mallory landed in Denver three days ago. Her parents picked her up from the airport and she is staying with them this week. Sunny also flew back yesterday to visit her family before the fall semester starts.

  Because our girls are gone, this might explain how Zach and I ended up with a box of tissues on the coffee table and “Titanic” on the TV in the middle of the afternoon. I put the bottle of Jack straight to my lips, not worried about etiquette and not caring since I’m not sharing the bottle anyway. I take another shot, thinking this is the third, but it could’ve been more.

  Going through his own form of alcohol therapy since Sunny left, Zach has built a beer can pyramid that I must admit is quite impressive.

  “What’s up, dudes?” Murphy bellows as he walks in the front door with my sister in tow.

  Neither of us bother replying, finding the love story unfolding on the TV before us more interesting.

  Kate walks over, smacks the back of my head, and says, “I’ve been missing you, baby bro. You still sulking over Mal leaving?” She ruffles my hair, which pisses me off.

  I shrug her off and don’t bother answering. I take another swig instead, sticking to my drowning my sorrows away philosophy.

  “Dad wants you back in Manhattan sooner. I’ve booked your flight. You’ve got two days until we leave,” Kate states.

  I sit up, surprised. “I can’t! Zach and I already have plans.”

  “What plans… Dude! That was totally uncalled for,” Zach says, taking the couch pillow I just threw at his head and tucking it
behind him.

  “Get over it. It’s a fucking pillow, brah. And we’ve made plans,” I say, winking at him, hoping he’s onboard with my scheme.

  When I glance at Kate, she crosses her arms and arches an eyebrow at me. “You’re going. We have a lot to look over before the board meeting and those files are kept at the office.” She starts walking away, pulling Murphy behind her. “It’s only a few days earlier than you planned, so suck it up. You’re going.” Her voice trails off as they walk down the hall away from us.

  “Your sister scares me sometimes,” Zach says, eyes still focused on the TV.

  “She scares me too, but I can’t let her know or she’ll use it to her advantage.”

  “Two days, Evan. We’ve got two days… what should we do? It should be something big to end the summer off in the most epic way possible.” Zach sits up as if he’s plotting the greatest plan ever. His fingers tap against each other and then the light bulb goes off. “Cliff-diving!”

  “We’ve done it before.”

  “Two words, dude. Spinning. Caves.” He jumps to his feet with a burst of excitement. “We’ve done the sissy cliffs. We’ve talked about jumping Spinning Caves for years. We’ve gotta do it. What better way to send you off into the real world than to get a fucking adrenaline rush like that?”

  “Uh, I can think of lots of ways, like sitting my ass right here on this couch and watching this fucking chick flick. I’ve never seen the ending—”

  “No, we’re doing this and it’s fucking “Titanic.” The ship sinks and almost everyone dies.” He clicks the TV off. “The fucking end. Now get your ass up and let’s do this.”

  “You suck balls, brah. Ruining a perfectly good movie like that.” I sit up, taking this Spinning Caves jump into consideration. “So if we do the jump, we probably shouldn’t do it after drinking liquor. A lot can go wrong and it’s getting kind of late.”