Perfectly Flawed

by Nessa Morgan

  “How can I do that,” Zephyr quickly begins, turning to face me, “when you act so disinterested in anyone, especially me?” He’s still yelling. “When you act like I’m the brother you lost. I’m not Noah, Joey.”

  Why does everyone keep reminding me?

  “I know you’re not Noah!” Why does everyone think that I’m letting people replace my family? Why does everyone think that I want them to replace my family? “Jamie is not Ivy; Aunt Hil is not my mother. You don’t think I know these things. It kills me, okay?” I let a sob escape because I can’t help it. Everything is welling within me and I can’t keep it inside. His arms circle around my shoulders, instantly pulling me to his chest. “I’m broken, I’m ruined, and you’re telling me that—”

  “I’ve loved you since I was old enough to fully understand the meaning of the word,” he whispers to the top of my head. His hand trails up and down my back, lightly patting in between each movement. “And if you want me to try and convince you of my feelings…” he trails off, pulling away, letting me look at him, looking me directly in the eye. His arms are still circled around me, warmth pouring from him into me. “If you want me to battle your demons, I will fight until I can’t fight anymore, because that’s what you do for the person you love.”

  The person you love…

  This is a moment that people say changes you, changes your life. This is that defining moment. The moment when you realize that the one thing you want, the one person you want, you need, has been in your life longer than you ever knew. He’s been right in front of your face waiting for you. If he were a pole, you’d have broken your nose on impact.

  And Five Finger Death Punch wasn’t helping the mood.

  Just like that, just when that thought became the truth, just when the need burned into want, just when desire took over, I knew from this moment on, I was safe.

  I look to him, leaning closer, slowly edging nearer. Was I really going to do it? Closer, I moved until my body was sure of itself and its destination. Lifting my gaze, I looked into his eyes, chocolate brown with flecks of warm honey, and I knew once again I was safe. He wasn’t Ryder, he couldn’t hurt me like Ryder, he’d never be Ryder, and that’s when I knew what I wanted, more than anything else in the world.

  Him.

  Edging closer until my shoulder pressed against his, I looked up, catching his startled expression, worried that I was worried. Shoving that from my mind, I let my hands wander. From his stomach, warm and smooth, up his chest, my fingers gliding around his neck, linking together. This is what he feels like? I felt his hand slide up and down my back. I turn my head, looking into his familiar eyes, at the lips that have only tormented me, joked with me, just been Zephyr’s for as long as I can remember. Now, they were closer to mine than they’d ever been before. And I wanted them closer.

  I closed the distance between us, pressing my lips firmly against his. His lips felt soft and warm against mine, not how Ryder’s felt. This, I know, can wipe it away, everything Ryder did, and this can erase it permanently. Zephyr’s are welcoming and I want to continue the kiss.

  The moment our lips make contact, Zephyr takes a deep breath and tugs me closer until I’m straddling his lap. His hands slink up the hem of my shirt, his fingertips finding skin and shooting fire through me. I’m on fire—this is fire. This moment is pure electricity, buzzing through me. I can’t pull away. I can’t. But…

  As fast as I did it, I pulled away faster, amazed at myself. It was wonderful, it was brief, and it was my way of telling him that I, too, loved him. I have always loved him; it just took me longer to realize it and longer to quit lying to myself about it.

  I shy away, backing from his lap to the safety of my side of the room. His eyes widen when I look up at him through my lashes.

  “What was that?” he asks, breathless. “We’re having a serious discussion here.”

  “If you don’t know then you’re the dumbest smart person I know.” I let out a nervous giggle, fidgeting with my hands. This makes me so nervous. I can feel his gaze on me, warming me, as he watches my hands in my lap. Maybe he didn’t like it. I’ve never really kissed anyone, which sounds pathetic. I mean, I’m sixteen, and the first kiss I ever received, I didn’t want. I want this one to count.

  “I’m not that smart.” He reaches his hand out to cover mine, his thumb caressing the top of my hand. He lightly grips and pulls me closer to him, letting me lean against him with my head in the crook of his neck.

  “Shut up,” I jokingly demand. “Don’t ruin the moment,” I counter, loving the feel of his hands on my back, the soothing circles they make.

  “We’re having a moment?” he whispers near my ear, his warm breath sending chills down my spine.

  I push him away, leaning back to glare at his smirking face. “If you let me explain, jackass.”

  “There’s my Joey.” He chuckles lightly, his hand reaches up to move a strand of hair behind my ear. “Go ahead; tell me how stupid I am.”

  Don’t tempt me, dude.

  With my eyes narrowed, I respond with, “I think I did.”

  His mouth splits into a wide grin. “That you did.”

  “Zephyr, you’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met,” I start, making him laugh. “You’re also the most important person in the world to me.” I run my hand through my hair, tugging it over my left shoulder.

  “But…” he draws it out slowly, as if I might say something worse, maybe telling him this could never happen. I don’t know what runs through his mind.

  “Stop it,” I demand, lightly smacking him in the arm. “You swoop in to take hugs meant for me when I can’t force myself to act like a normal human being, you break into my house just to pull me away from dark, clinging nightmares, you punch people that say they’ve slept with me then call me a psycho, and you are just my… I don’t know.” I stop and think for a moment, the best thing to describe what Zephyr is to me. “You’re my snowflake; you’re my one in a million.” A blush crawls up my neck. “And I love you, too,” I tell him, wrapping my arms tightly around his body, loving the feel of my arms around him. I’m hugging someone and I don’t want to run away. “I’ve loved you since you were suspended for punching Bobby Logan. You went against Goliath for me and you won. You won this time, too.” But Ryder certainly is no Goliath.

  “I did, didn’t I?” Even his gloating is getting cuter to me.

  “You are so ruining the moment,” I jokingly whine.

  He bursts into laughter.

  “Then continue if you must,” he states, letting his hand thread through my curls. “Tell me why I’m epic and awesome and how you can’t live without me.”

  “This is about to be an epic fail, isn’t it?” I ask, feeling Zephyr laugh.

  “Not at all,” he replies, matter-of-factly. “Just continue talking about my awesomeness.”

  “I could,” I say, taking a deep breath, smelling simply Zephyr. “But then your ego would inflate too much for my liking.”

  He smiles before inching closer, his nose nuzzling behind my ear. “I’m going to kiss you, now.” His words warm my blood.

  And he does.

  His hands reach up, framing my face, as he brushes his lips briefly against mine, teasing me before he covers my mouth with his. Tenderly at first, then deeper, pulling me closer, wanting me closer. And, oh, I want him. My world starts to slowly deteriorate, leaving only Zephyr and me and our connection, and my head begins to spin. I feel like I’m on a speeding carousel, spinning and holding on for dear life. This is the kind of kiss girls’ dream of, the ones at the end of those cheesy romance movies most likely written by Nicholas Sparks that other girls love. Okay, the ones I love, too. Only this one puts those to shame.

  Or it did before Zephyr pulled away.

  So… an excruciatingly chaste version of those kisses.

  I’m so lightheaded; I need to take a minute to catch my breath. Zephyr leans forward, resting his forehead against mine.

  “What’
s that?” I ask when my head stops spinning—it takes a few moments but I need to change the subject before I jump him. My eyes are set to the painting and I feel like I know the girl shying away from me—her hazel eyes, her long, dark brown curls, her fondness for the color green.

  Wait a minute…

  “What? That?” he asks, nervously. We’ve pulled apart and focused our attention on the painting. He scratches the back of his head while avoiding my eyes. “It’s a painting I’ve been working on for a few weeks,” he answers vaguely, cryptically.

  “It’s me,” I say, crawling toward it. I can see my smile, my freckles, the birthmark on the side of my neck. The eyes are so beautiful, so mesmerizing, I can’t help but think that he got those wrong. Those can’t be my eyes.

  I reach out my hand to touch it, to feel the beauty, but I instantly retract my hand before I touch it. I don’t want to ruin it.

  “Yeah,” he answers. “It’s cool if you don’t like it; I just like to paint you from time to time.”

  I snort. “That doesn’t sound creepy at all,” I sarcastically tell him.

  “You’re my muse, Jo.” That tugs at my heart. “So you don’t like it?” he tentatively asks, kneeling next to me as I examine his artwork.

  “Don’t like it?” I ask. “I love it,” I tell him.

  Zephyr looks visibly relieved. “That’s good to hear.”

  I laugh, reaching out to touch the piece leaning against the wall. It’s so beautiful that I’ll never believe it’s me. I can’t believe that’s how sees me, I look so carefree and happy—I look so different.

  We spend the rest of the evening lounging on his floor—taking brief kissing breaks, because we can, now—talking about the painting and others he’s done. I wasn’t expecting there to be more but he tells me he has plenty of paintings of me. Most of them are hidden in the attic. That makes me laugh. Eventually, I have to head home. I do have school in the morning, and the rest of the week.

  “Just so you know,” he tells me as he walks me down the stairs, his fingers laced with mine. He finally put on a shirt—about two minutes before making this trip. “I am calling you my girlfriend,” he states, matter-of-factly, with a shrug.

  “As long as I can call you my boyfriend,” I counter.

  “I think that can be arranged.”

  “Disgusting,” Jamie calls from the couch, a giggle quickly following. “I swear you’re the only guy that can get suspended and a girlfriend in the same day.”

  Zephyr smiles, never taking his eyes away from me. “This was just luck,” he tells her, raising our intertwined hands.

  “And I’m happy you two are finally together,” she comments. “It was pathetic watching you two around each other. It was so obvious to everyone but the two of you.”

  Was it?

  Like, seriously?

  With that, and a not-so-quick kiss, I head home, ready to get ready for bed. I’m in a much better mood than when I left but who knows how long that’s going to last.

  I slowly open the door and slink inside, trying to make myself as small as possible. Maybe, this time, Hilary is upstairs, in bed. I don’t think she went to work today. I’m not sure if she even had to work today, I lost track of her schedule a long time ago.

  “Joey?”

  Obviously, I’m just going to be very wrong about things today.

  “Yeah, it’s me,” I say when I lock the door behind me.

  Who else would it be?

  “Look, I just wanted to apologize for earlier,” my aunt starts when I walk into the kitchen. She’s sitting at the dining room table, nothing in front of her, just sitting with her hands folded.

  “No, I’m sorry—”

  “Let me finish,” Hilary cuts me off. “I’m sorry that you feel like I don’t want you.” I guess we’re getting straight to the point tonight. That’s good; really, I’m just not very good with hard honesty. I take a seat across from her.

  “Honestly, I don’t feel like that, Aunt Hil.”

  “Just let me finish, hon.” She takes a deep breath, tucking an orange lock of hair behind her ear. “I may not be your mother, I could never replace a woman that wonderful anyway, but I love you just the same. I care about you, I will always protect you like my own, not because I feel like I need to replace your mother, not because it’s my responsibility, but because I love you as if you were mine. I’m still fun Aunt Hil, I’m still the one that’ll take you get your second tattoo—since I missed the first. I’m still the one that’ll take you to get whatever piercing you want—provided it’s above the belt.” I giggle at that. “I love you, Joey.”

  “I know that, Auntie.”

  She releases a sigh, looking relieved. She must have been practicing that entire speech in her head while I was over at Zephyr’s.

  “I’m hugging you,” she announces, bounding from her seat with her arms outstretched. “Don’t try to squirm away.”

  Hugs no longer scare me. It’s a welcome feeling not to feel the need to flee when she stretches out her arms to embrace me.

  “I’ll accept your hug,” I tell her as I willingly dive into her arms, feeling the warmth a love surround me. Is this what it feels like to have a mother? This has to be what it feels like to have someone that loves you.

  “So… is this one of those teen moments that I’ve heard a lot about?” Hilary asks with her arms circled around me.

  “I don’t know,” I sputter. “You’re asking the teen.”

  “I think I was worse at your age.”

  “That’s what Grammy and Grandpa say,” I tell her, remembering all the stories that my grandparents told me about my mom and Hilary when they were my age. They even broke out photo albums and home movies. But those are stories for another night; I’m tired and I really want to crawl into bed. The thought of my sheets surrounding me makes me smile and I honestly can’t wait to dive beneath them.

  “I’m going to bed,” I tell my aunt, pulling away. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “See you then.” She reaches up to smooth down my hair before I stand up from the dining room table, walk through the living room, and ascend the stairs.

  I stop by the bathroom and brush my teeth, still feeling Zephyr’s lips against mine. My room is dark when I step into it; the air from the open window is cool against my legs as I dress for bed. Grabbing my favorite pair of sleep shorts—pink-and-black plaid—and tugging my shirt from my head, I walk to the window to slide it closed.

  “Good night,” Zephyr calls from his room, looking at me from his bed. His light is on, illuminating him as he lounges against his pillows… shirtless once again.

  I’ll admit it; I swooned at the sight. But I didn’t make it obvious.

  “Night,” I call back, deciding to leave my window open for the night.

  ***

  My first full day as Zephyr’s girlfriend—I’d like to say it was full of excitement and fun, maybe a little naughty business (trust me, I can’t believe I said that, either), it wasn’t. While the morning was good—Zephyr made a brief appearance—the rest of my day was just… normal. Although, a slightly better normal than normal.

  Well, except for one thing that happened after lunch…

  Okay, so I wasn’t exactly expecting fireworks or a parade, but I was happy, damn it, and I wanted everyone as freaking happy and cheerful as I felt. I mean, come on, it’s a rare occurrence and it could end at any time. Someone simply looking at me wrong could piss me off.

  At least there was Zephyr.

  “Hello, hello,” Zephyr calls as he enters through the front door I left unlocked for him after my shower. This morning, I actually made sure I was in an outfit worthy of girlfriend status. Nothing too extravagant, just jeans and a green cable knit sweater that made me feel cute. “There you are,” I hear him say before he wraps his arms around my waist as I stand at the counter in the kitchen adding sugar to my chamomile tea. He tugs me backward until my back is pressed firmly against his chest. “Morning,” Zephyr purr
s in my ear. “You look lovely this morning.”

  Lovely? Not exactly what I was going for but approximate and I’ll take it.

  “Thank you,” I reply, feeling my cheeks heat up. “Good morning to you, too,” I say to my mug of tea, the one I almost dropped when I felt his touch a moment ago. “How are you this morning?” I ask before taking a sip, burning my tongue on the scalding hot liquid. Bad life choice, bad life choice!

  I set the mug down and fan my mouth, willing it to cool down, while Zephyr chuckles in my ear.

  “I could take care of that for you,” he offers, suggestively, his lips brushing suggestively against my neck, and holy moley, he should never stop doing that.

  Despite my body’s objection, I shoot a pointed glare over my shoulder. “No you couldn’t.” Anything he’d do to me would send fire coursing through me, my veins—case in point, my blood is boiling where he just kissed my neck. I’d overheat in a matter of seconds, completely defeating the purpose.

  “Well, I’m wonderfully splendid,” he tells me, speaking directly into my ear. His voice, deep and smooth, sends chills down my spine when she speaks, his breath warming and tickling my ear. I hear him take a deep breath; I can feel his nose against my hairline. “Your hair smells fantastic. I’ve always wanted to tell you that.”

  My hand reaches for my hair. “Thank you,” I reply, my smile growing wider. “It’s my cherry blossom shampoo. Or body lotion. Or body spray.”

  “You like cherry blossoms?” he asks sarcastically.

  “I love cherry blossoms,” I tell him. “Almost as much as I love you.”

  Zephyr spins me, leaning me against the counter, as he mimes his heart breaking. “That hurt. A lot.” The smile on his face, though, is infectious. His hands slide down my sides, electricity shooting from every touch. It’s like he’s touching my bare skin, like he’s seeking to feel every inch of me. His hands rest on my hips, tapping his fingers up and down.