Meant for More
Page 8
What the hell? That doesn't make sense.
One, because my dad has always liked Carter. Well, before he started drinking, he did. They would spend time in the yard throwing the football while Liv and I watched and read books or gossiped about whatever was happening at school.
Two, because Carter has never liked me like as more than what we are now. He's always been a friend...only a friend.
"No, you didn't, Dad. You love Carter. He's the one who played football with—"
"Yeah, yeah, I know exactly who he is. The kid with the big white Jeep and no fuckin' doors. You always rode around with him and Liv." My dad mumbles the words in a sloppy voice and stumbles back. My heart pounds again. I know he's trying to break free. Trying to put space between us so he can leave.
My mind races with the ideas he’s verbalizing, but I step forward and focus on convincing him to stay. "Then Benj and I can take you," I start, but he runs a hand through his salt and pepper, grease covered hair. He smiles, and it's the first time I notice how bad his teeth are getting as well. Knocked out of place by who knows what, caked in yellow and grime where they used to be straighter and whiter.
God, Dad. I just want you back.
My heart breaks, just like it always does when I'm with him. Because this is what his preferred poison does. It ruins everything in his life. It calls to him in stronger and far more enticing promises than his own family.
Than me.
"Please, Dad," I plead, taking one more step toward him just as he turns around and begins walking away.
"I'm a busy man. I've got places to be, things to do," he calls over his shoulder. His tone is clipped and tense. He sounds angry now, and I know his attitude is quickly flipping like a switch in this moment. He picks up his pace, but I follow, refusing to let go of this just yet.
Not now, please. Come home.
"Wait! Not yet!" I call after him, turning around the corner and behind the restaurant just as he does. I don't even bother to see if Benj is following us, but I can vaguely hear his hurried steps behind me.
What can I offer him? My dad. What will ever be better to him than his addiction?
But that's the problem with addicts. Nothing is more important than the high. The release. The low.
"Fuck off, Bloom! I don't fucking want you." He rounds the corner ahead of him without a single glance back, without seeing his only daughter one last time before stepping away and into the busy street ahead.
Ah, there he is. That's the dad I remember so well.
He's so different than who he was when he was clean and sober. Genuinely, two completely different people and I still struggle to comprehend how the duality is even possible.
Addiction can mask itself in so many different ways. Anything can become an obsession if you let it. You can drown yourself in drugs, drinking, or prescription pills. Or it can be your job, your aspirations, your hobbies and environment.
I slow my steps as tears finally break through my lashes and spill uncontrollably down my cheeks. I can taste the salt as it stains my lips and coats my tongue in regret and disappointment. I absently watch the space my father just stood, the strip of cement ahead of me that housed his steps as he ran away.
Again. When will I ever get him back?
Everything hurts. My head throbs now that I'm falling from this rush. My heart has shattered in my ribcage, splinters of pain and failed hopes slip into my blood and prick my veins.
Suddenly, I feel Benj step up behind me. His warmth seeps into my skin, and while it feels better to have someone near—it immediately reminds me of who isn't.
My mind and heart ache for the one person who already knows this part of me. The one person who spent countless hours and days hidden in small spaces while his fingers twisted through my hair.
"Do you think my mom’s okay?" I ask, dropping my head to the side while Carter stares at the long brown strands of my hair. He drops his hand to the ends and slips them between his fingertips.
"Are you kidding me? Your mom is tough as shit. It's your dad I'd be worried about," he replies without glancing my way. His eyes are still glued to my wild hair, tangled in knots and resting in the dirt beneath us. I don't know why he keeps looking at it—it's nothing special.
But I laugh at his words anyway, because he's right. My mom is tough.
And I'm worried about my dad, too. He's never been this way before, and he seems to only be getting worse.
A memory of when I was fifteen flashes through my mind, making me wish for the hands of someone else when Benj's land on my waist and he pulls me back against him.
"Can you take me home?" I ask quietly as I turn around in his arms. I can't look at him, not yet. I'm not ready to face the expression of someone who just witnessed the darkest piece of my life.
A part I wasn't ready to share just yet.
"Yeah, of course, Bloom," he assures, rubbing his hands up and down the outside of my arms as I lean against his chest. The tears keep spilling, and before I know it, I'm soaking his hoodie in every painful piece of me. He doesn't rush me though, he simply stands and holds on to me while I fall apart.
Is this enough? I absently wonder. I've been split on how I feel over Benj's presence already. I wanted him gone while my dad was here, yelling and angry and drunk.
But now? I'm glad not to be crying alone in an alley in the middle of the city.
Finally, I pull back and quickly wipe my fingers underneath my eyes while trying to steady my breaths. He doesn't say another word, and I'm thankful for the silence as well, because I can’t find the energy to be talking right now.
Instead, he simply turns around and takes my hand in his, leading me back to the truck and helping me inside of it. He moves to the driver’s side and I buckle myself in as we pull away from the restaurant.
I can't help it, I scan the streets the entire way home in silence. I'm looking for flashes of his hair or those hands I'm so used to memorizing in my mind. I just want to see him again, I want to save him.
Why is that too hard to ask for?
We don't say another word to each other the entire drive home. Benj doesn't reach for my hand and I don't seek out his own. I rest my head against the window, far too exhausted to speak or converse.
And yet I still have one thought living freely in my head outside of my dad.
I want to see Carter.
Something's off.
I can feel it, and I wish I knew exactly what it was. But it's lingering in the atmosphere, in the energy of the house and my head is stuck on the thought as I stand here over the stove, making pancakes for dinner. Liv is leaning against the counter at my side, her arms lightly crossed over her chest as she watches me.
It doesn’t help that my mind has been in strange, addictive places today.
It’s been on Bloom in ways I didn’t anticipate. After seeing her at class, after having her pressed up against the wall. Her sweet eyes moving back and forth while her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths.
"What's wrong?" she asks, yanking my attention away from my moments with Bloom. She leans over just a bit so I'm forced to meet her gaze. "I can tell something's up. You're doing that thing where you roll your tongue against your bottom lip."
I stop immediately, realizing she's too good at calling out my usual tells. Bloom notices too, but she doesn't mention it like Liv does. I love and hate that about her—how blunt she is about almost everything.
But I can’t tell her where my head is. Washes of guilt pull in my mind as I think about my sudden curiosity over Bloom.
How the hell do I explain it to her? I can hardly understand it myself. I’m supposed to be building this relationship with Liv, and now every moment with Bloom, every aspect of our pasts and our friendship has shifted into a strangely attractive perspective.
Like all of a sudden, she’s exactly where I need to be heading. It doesn’t feel new, it doesn’t feel surprising even. It just feels…warm.
But it can’t be. It can’t. I�
��m here, exploring a relationship with Liv—not Bloom.
"Nothing's wrong, necessarily. Something just feels off," I reply as I flip one pancake over in the cast-iron pan.
She nods, raising her eyebrows just a bit and tilting her head back and forth as if she's contemplating something. "I agree, ever since Benj came back it's been weird."
Benj. Fucking asshole.
He wouldn't talk to us when he came in, and Liv made some snarky remark that he huffed off as he walked upstairs and to his room. He hasn't been out since, and that's not like him.
So, either things went really fucking badly, or really, really well?
I absently bite my inner cheek, and step over to pull a couple of plates down and stack the last pancake on the platter. "Yeah, I know. You think they hooked up?" I ask the question before I even realize I should hold it back. I never censor the things I say to Liv, but now we're in this new, confusing limbo together. Maybe I shouldn't ask about those things anymore.
And because she doesn't know that I know Bloom is a virgin. Fuck, I want to ask about that too but I don't know where the damn line is.
That's not true—I do know. Bloom would never want me asking that kind of shit to Liv.
She laughs, loudly and completely with her head thrown back and everything. But then she relaxes, slowing herself down when she finally meets my gaze again. I'm standing by the table, placing all of our silverware and syrup in front of our plates when I look over at her.
"What? Are you serious?" she asks as she walks toward me, pulling out her chair and sitting down.
Shit.
"I mean, yes." I reply, sitting down as well and deliberately focusing on my fucking pancakes instead of looking over at Liv. "He doesn't usually hide away when he gets home. So, something must have happened."
She pauses and watches me for a brief moment, her shoulders back and her eyes bouncing between my own. I can practically see the wheels turning in her head, and my stomach tightens at whatever tension is building between us. "I don't think they had sex, Carter." She laughs quietly while she turns back to her food.
Her long blonde hair has fallen over her eyes. Her cheeks are flushed, and I can't help but wonder where exactly her mind is right now. But then she looks my way again and her gaze narrows just slightly when she wags her fork in my direction. "But if they did, would it be so horrible?"
I take a bit of my food and forcibly chew while I try to decide how to answer this. It wouldn't be horrible. Of course not. I'd be happy for Bloom, for Benj. Maybe they're better for each other than I initially thought. Better than her and I would be together. "No, they'd be good together, I think."
"I think so too," she remarks while continuing to eat. But her voice is a bit higher, and her eyes fall to her plate as soon as I've answered her. "You know, I've been thinking. We should talk to Bloom about whatever is going on with us."
There it is. That must have been the tension I was feeling.
I take another bite of my food, take a sip of the tall glass of milk sitting in front of me as well. My mind churns through how I'm feeling, and I can't help but focus on the tiny tether pulling me back from having this conversation—with both Liv and Bloom.
"I don't know," I caution, looking at her face to gauge her reaction. She slowly looks toward me, sitting up a bit straighter and setting her fork down next to her plate.
"Why? I don't like hiding something like this from Bloom, and honestly, I think she can already feel it Carter." Her voice is strained a bit, and I can hear the irritation in her words.
Fuck, how do I say I'm not ready for her to know? How do I explain there's something else happening inside of me? Something I don't quite understand. A heaviness that settles in my chest when I think about telling Bloom about us.
"I don't think I'm ready for this dynamic to change," I reply, because that's true. I don't know how I feel about it evolving from the three of us, to the two of us and Bloom. I love the relationship I have with Bloom now and I have this gut feeling it will have to change if Liv and I go for this together. And is that what I want? Do I want to surrender this attraction I’ve been feeling toward her?
I'd have to lose Bloom in ways I don't want to.
Liv suddenly scoots back in her seat and moves toward me, placing her hands on my shoulders as she forces me to lean back. In the next instant she's straddling my lap and running her hands through my hair, her eyes narrow with a soft expression as her chest comes against mine. "The dynamic, baby? We've been best friends for years, that always comes first," she says quietly. She dips her head a little lower and my heart pumps at the thought that she's about to kiss me.
But not in eager anticipation—no.
This is something else. It's uncomfortable and complicated, nothing I can rationalize logically in my head. So, I force it back into a compartment I don't need to examine too carefully right now and rest my hands on her waist when her lips brush against mine.
"You and I will always be good. No matter what. We won't let dating ruin the friendship we've already built." She kisses me again, and it's when her tongue sweeps inside of my mouth that I realize she's referring to a completely different dynamic than what actually worries me.
I don't think dating will ruin mine and Liv's friendship.
I think dating will ruin mine and Blooms.
Before I can explain further, Liv's hips are rolling against my own and my head is unfortunately preoccupied with the feel of her. My hand slips farther down to grip her ass and my legs fall wider as I slide back just a bit.
Shit, shit. I should slow this down.
But damn she feels good, and it's not like we haven't kissed or made out before. We have, far too many times than I'd like to admit, and for some reason, a jolt of guilt sparks in my chest when I think about the fact that Bloom hasn't known for a while. I'm going to have to figure this shit out soon, that's for fucking sure.
Suddenly, heavy steps sound in the background and I know without even looking that it's Benj finally emerging from his room. He walks up behind us and moves to lean against the counter. Liv's body is still plastered against my own with my hands still moving over her frame.
Benj crosses his arms over his chest and drops one ankle over the other, his usually intense gaze now strained with something dark and clearly painful. He waits, making it very evident that we need to talk. All right, undoubtedly this is an important conversation, and truthfully, I want to know what happened. So, it’s an easy decision to press pause on Liv and focus on Benj.
I sit up a bit taller and shift Liv around on my lap so she can face him instead. "What's going on, man?" I immediately ask, feeling my heart pound harder in my chest when my head quickly runs through every hypothetical situation.
"Something happened with Bloom today," he says, his voice tense and his jaw ticking as he watches us. I can tell he isn't sure if he should say it, and that worries me even more. The fact that he's being this reserved, this cautious. What the fuck could have happened?
"Is this why you haven't been around us today?" I ask, suddenly realizing he must have slept with Bloom. He had to have. It's the only fucking reason he wouldn't want to be around us afterwards. Maybe he feels guilty? Maybe he wasn't ready to confront it because he knows how I fucking feel about them?
Jesus Christ, I'm going to fucking kill him.
"Are you going to tell us what happened? Or make us fucking guess, Benj?" Liv snaps out, standing up from my lap as I do the same.
He looks to her and narrows his eyes, his lips tighten into a line before looking back to me and ignoring her. He still doesn't respond though, as if he's still contemplating what he should reveal.
"I swear to god, Benj. If you fucked her on the first goddamn date, I'm going to kill—"
"Shut the fuck up, Carter. I didn't have sex with her!" he shouts, dropping his arms to his side as he grips the table. Liv glances back and forth between the two of us, motioning her hands in order to hurry Benj along with his explanation.
"I met her dad," he says quietly, and looks down to the fucking ground instead meeting my eyes again.
Silence.
Instantly, everything shifts. The energy, the air, the tension. It's growing colder in the room and a rush of anger rolls through me. In the moment, I have nothing to say. My head is spiraling with far too many thoughts and bitter comments to voice any of them.
"What did you just say?" Liv addresses him first, stepping toward him so he's forced to look at her.
"I met her dad. Today, at the Big O," he repeats himself, and in the same moment everything spills out of him. "He's an alcoholic? Is that it? He was wasted. It was a fucking disaster, I almost got into a fight with him. Shit, at first, I didn't know it was her fuckin' dad—I swear."
Fucking hell.
My body goes completely rigid, my hands slide into the pockets of my jeans and my shoulders tense while I continue listening. It sounds like a fucking train wreck, but all I can really think about is how I should have been there. How I should be there now, with Bloom, instead of here making out with her best friend behind her fucking back.
"Where is she?" I ask quickly, interrupting his useless story when I start walking toward the front of our house.
They follow after me, and Liv hurries up to my side while Benj stays back. "I don't know, dude. She had me drop her off at the house."
I don't respond, I simply grab my keys and wallet and slide it into my back pocket. I pull my phone out at the same time while I try to call her, and Liv follows me out the front door assuming she's coming with me.
No answer.
I turn toward Liv and place my hand on her shoulder, tilting my head down so I'm looking her in the eyes. "I need you to stay here with Benj, or have him drive you back to the house."
Her eyes pinch in confusion and she leans away from me. "What? No. I'm coming with you. It's the three of us, especially with this."