Keep From Falling (Markson Grove Series Book 1)

by Amy Vanessa Miller

  “Don’t,” he says with pain radiating from his voice. He brushes my hand away from his hair gently.

  “Evan,” I say.

  He rolls over onto his side, facing me. I can see the drunken stupor in his eyes, but it doesn’t take away from the serious expression on his face. “I’m not right for you,” he says finally.

  “But I want you to be.”

  “I know you do. That’s why it has to be me to do this,” he says, and even as he’s saying the words, they don’t feel real. This isn’t really happening, this can’t actually be playing out like this after everything we’ve had.

  He brushes a loose strand of my hair behind my ear and then lets his fingers linger on my neck for just a moment. “I would love you all of my life if it were right, but I can’t hold you to something like that. It’s selfish, and I don’t want to be selfish anymore.”

  “But I want to be with you,” I say, tears beginning to well up in my eyes. “You’d be good to me… and I’d be good to you too. I swear.”

  “I know you would be,” he replies, “but this isn’t about that. This is about you and what you need… from me.”

  “But I love you. That’s not made up, it’s real. I want to be with you,” I tell him hurriedly, trying to stop what I can tell is coming. He needs to see that what he’s thinking about doing isn’t what’s best for me and it’s not what I want for us! He doesn’t want to do this. I know he doesn’t.

  “I know it’s real, that’s what makes this so damn hard. You’re hiding behind it because it’s real. And I know all I have to do is just let you and you’ll be mine. But that’s not fair. It’s not fair for you, and it’s not fair for me either.”

  “Don’t do this,” I beg. I’m not ready for this.

  “Bree,” he says, bringing his hand to my cheek and gently wiping a tear away with his thumb, “you’re gay.”

  I suck in a deep breath of air and then after a moment I exhale it. “That doesn’t matter to me,” I say finally. “Love is love. I don’t care what sex you are.” I’m trying to sound convincing and comforting all at the same time, but somehow I don’t think it really comes across that way.

  “I care,” he says in a shaky voice. “I’ll never be what you need.”

  The pain in his voice breaks me. I need to stop it; I need to make that pain go away. So I do the only thing I can think of doing at that moment. I kiss him.

  I don’t close my eyes right away so that I can see what the kiss does to him. I watch his eyes squeeze shut as he pushes his lips deeper onto mine, and for a moment I think that maybe he’s changed his mind. He inhales my breath into his mouth, seeming to need it as much as the oxygen in the air around us.

  I close my eyes finally, and take in everything else that’s happening. He pushes his body closer to mine, sliding one arm under me and the other over me, in an embrace I’ve become very much accustomed to. And just like our very first kiss, he slides his tongue into my mouth and caresses mine ever so softly.

  His mouth tastes like liquor, and I’m very much aware as he’s kissing me, that the taste of liquor on a kiss will forever remind me of this one. He runs his right hand up the curve of my back, then along my left arm, then across my neck until it’s resting on my cheek with his thumb placed just below our kissing lips. I keep kissing him, not wanting us to part, because it’s painfully clear to me that the minute this kiss is over, so are we.

  After a few more moments, he eases his lips away from mine. The second he does this, I push in further, hugging myself closer to him. I do anything and everything I can think of, not to allow his lips to part from mine. “Not yet. Please not yet,” I beg, in a whimper.

  “I’m really dizzy,” he says, pushing away from me abruptly and rolling onto his back.

  I close my eyes and discreetly wipe the tears from my face. “That was goodbye, wasn’t it?”

  “You know it was,” he says, and although I can tell that he doesn’t mean for it to come out so hurtful, it does.

  I sit up in the bed and plant my feet firmly on the floor. I’m about to go downstairs when Evan jumps up and darts toward the bathroom so quickly that he knocks me aside, and I nearly fall onto the floor. He’s in the bathroom and has the door shut within seconds, leaving me pretty sure of what it is I’m about to hear. I press my hands to my ears at the exact same moment the hacking sounds emerge from the little restroom.

  I remove my hands a few moments later but, unfortunately, the sounds are still radiating through the walls. I can’t listen to this, it makes me sick just hearing it. I get up and make my way down the stairs to the bar.

  It’s gotten really packed since we’d gone up a little over a half an hour ago. Isabelle is still at the bar but she now has three new bartenders who’ve joined her, and nearly all the tables are filled.

  I scan the room for Adrienne, and when I finally spot her at a little table in the corner, drinking a cocktail and scrolling through her phone, I walk over.

  “Hey.”

  She looks up from her phone and smiles, “Hey, sweetie. How did it go up there?”

  I grimace, “It didn’t.”

  She frowns, putting her phone down and reaching over to take my hand into hers. “I’m sorry,” she says sincerely. “How’s he doing?”

  “He’s puking.”

  Adrienne laughs, “That bad, huh?”

  I let a small smile creep onto my lips in spite of how sad and drained I’m feeling. I know she can see that I’ve been crying, but she doesn’t let on. I’m grateful for that.

  “Have a seat,” she says, gesturing for me to sit across from her. I hesitate for a moment before taking the seat. “Is it weird for you to be stuck here with me?” she asks.

  I think over the question and roll it around in my mind for a little bit before finally replying, “I don’t think I’m stuck with you. That’s not the word I would use. But it is a bit weird, isn’t it?”

  “I’ll tell you, if someone would have told me last week that I’d be at a bar in Madigan City taking care of my ex-boyfriend, with his beautiful current girlfriend, I’d say they were cracked.”

  “Ex-girlfriend,” I correct her.

  “That’s what I said.”

  “No I mean, I’m his ex-girlfriend now too.”

  Her smile distorts into a frown, “Oh, sweetie, you’re calling it quits? I thought you chose him.”

  “He broke it off with me,” I reply, unable to hide my sadness.

  She looks up at the ceiling and shakes her head in disbelief. He frustrates her. “He’s just drunk, tomorrow you’ll get to talk it all over again sober, and it’ll be a different story, I’m sure of it.”

  I don’t bother telling her that I don’t think she’s right, or that deep down I think maybe it’s better this way. I don’t want her to know how fucked up and selfish I am. She seems nice, and I think she could be a good friend if given the chance, why would I throw that away by revealing something so personal so soon?

  We continue to chat for another twenty minutes or so before she takes the last big gulp of whatever orange concoction she’s drinking and looks toward the stairs. “Well, I guess we should go back up there to check on him. He’s kind of a baby when he’s sick.”

  Now that’s something I didn’t know. I probably shouldn’t have just left him there all alone for the last half hour. I wish she had said something sooner.

  I notice that Evan still hasn’t returned to the bed when we re-enter the room, and that immediately concerns me. “Oh my God,” I say in a gasp, darting toward the bathroom door. “Evan?”

  I hear what sounds like a low groan come from underneath the door, which tells me that he’s likely semi passed out on the floor.

  I try to turn the knob, but it’s locked. “Evan, can you open the door?”

  I hear a bit of rustling around and after about a minute, the door finally swings open and the entire upper half of Evan’s body tumbles out with it. He’s not wearing a shirt anymore, and his hair is wet and all
over the place. What the hell did he do while we were gone?

  “Oh my God, what happened?”

  “I got my shirt dirty,” he replies without lifting his face from the floor.

  “Are you still feeling sick, hun?” Adrienne asks, squatting down beside him and rubbing her hand over his back in an attempt to comfort him. “When he’s sick, he likes his back rubbed,” she says to me.

  “Stop acting like you know me so well, Adrienne,” Evan mumbles.

  “There’s the charmer I know and love,” she says with a smile. “Do you want me to stop rubbing your back?”

  “No.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought. Do you feel like you still need to be sick?” she asks him in a singsong voice, almost as if she’s speaking to a child. It makes me want to giggle even though I know I shouldn’t.

  He shakes his head.

  “Ok, well, Bree and I are going to help you into the bed then. Think you’re going to be ok with that?”

  It’s blatantly obvious that she’s taking far too much pleasure in making him feel uncomfortable. He doesn’t want either of us taking care of him right now, but we are all he has and she’s making sure he doesn’t forget it.

  He nods.

  I move to the other side of Evan and put my hands under his arms to lift him up while Adrienne does the same with his feet. After quite a struggle, we manage to get him upright and into the bed.

  He takes in a few steady breaths before finally drifting off into the land of sleep.

  Evan

  I don’t fall asleep right away, even though it’s clear to me that both Bree and Adrienne think that I do. I’m very much awake and able to hear everything they are whispering to each other beside me.

  Adrienne continues to rub her hand over my back and the feeling of it is incredibly relaxing. She knows how much I can’t resist a girl running her hands over my back, it’s my kryptonite, and she’s taking advantage of it. I want to keep hating her, I want to tell her to get lost and leave Bree alone. I want to call her out on what it is that I see she’s doing. But I don’t because this feels so good, and it makes me not want to puke, and right now I need that so much more than being able to tell my ex to shove it.

  “Is he asleep?” I hear Bree ask.

  “Yeah, I think so,” Adrienne replies.

  I feel the bed dip slightly, letting me know that Bree has taken a seat next to me. She begins to run her hands through my hair. The knowledge of two beautiful girls—both of whom I’ve slept with before—touching me at the same time, makes my body react unintentionally. But thank God I’m lying on my stomach and they are both completely unaware of it. I can’t even imagine how embarrassing it would be trying to explain that without coming across as a pervert.

  “Are you ok?” Adrienne whispers to Bree.

  “I feel empty,” Bree replies. The words sting. I hate that I did that to her.

  “You don’t think he’ll change his mind when he’s sober?”

  “I don’t know… I’m not even sure if I want him to. Everything he said wasn’t wrong.”

  I knew she’d realize what I said to her was the truth, but I honestly wasn’t expecting her to accept it this soon.

  This sucks.

  “What did he say?”

  There’s a long pause as Bree stops running her hands through my hair and readjusts herself on the bed. “He said that he’d never be what I need.”

  Adrienne seems to ponder Bree’s words. “I don’t know,” she says finally. “He’s a pretty perfect guy. What is it that he thinks you need?” I can’t help but smile in spite of myself. For someone who’s cheated on me our entire relationship, she really does seem to hold me in high regard. Maybe she actually does feel bad about what happened between us.

  “He is perfect. Honestly, I couldn’t ask for better.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “He’s not a girl.”

  “Oh.”

  There’s a long silence between them. Adrienne continues to run her hand along my back, and without the sound of their voices distracting me, I begin to drift off.

  “So what you said to me on the bus wasn’t true?” Adrienne says eventually, and it pulls my conscience back to the conversation.

  “I just don’t like labels. But I really do love him, you know?”

  “Um… ok, I guess.” Adrienne takes her hand off of my back and I feel her crawl over my body in order to sit right in front of Bree. “So even though you don’t like labels, and you say that you love Evan, you are admitting to me that only a girl can give you what you need?”

  “I’m attracted to girls.”

  “You’re not attracted to Evan?”

  “I am. It’s hard to explain; I don’t understand it myself, really. He’s the only guy who’s ever made me blush by smiling at me. His voice makes me weak in the knees. Everything about Evan is an enigma to me, my body responds to him. It’s never happened with any other guy. But girls… So many girls affect me… you… affect me.”

  It takes all the willpower that I have not to open my eyes and walk out of the room right now. I don’t want to hear this. I can’t hear this. It hurts way too much. I attempt to keep my breathing steady as I continue to listen to these forbidden words that were never meant for me to hear.

  “I do?” I hear Adrienne’s words catch in her throat and I can tell that she’s surprised by the confession.

  Bree doesn’t respond directly to the question, so I assume she nods because she continues on about me instead of replying. “He knows I love him, he just doesn’t think it’s enough.”

  “What do you think? Is it enough?”

  “Today it is.”

  “And tomorrow?”

  I feel the bed shift slightly, and after a few moments of silence, I open one eye just a sliver to see why Bree hasn’t responded. But the instant I see their mouths pressed against each other’s, my heart feels like it literally stops beating in my chest.

  What the fuck are they trying to do to me? Why does the universe hate me this much? Is there something written on my forehead telling girls that I’m a complete idiot who they should destroy the first chance they get?

  Their kiss seems to last forever. Both of their eyes are closed, and even though I notice them taking turns pushing their weight into one another, neither one of them actually pushes it any further than that. It’s visibly clear that they both want this first encounter to be soft, and explorative.

  And… my dick is getting hard.

  Yeah, because that’s exactly what I need, to get turned on by the worse thing that’s probably ever happened to me. I have to focus on something else, anything else.

  A chair. A lamp. Walls...

  War. Carnage…

  Dead puppies.

  Yep, dead puppies did it.

  Finally their kiss ends and I watch them open their eyes once again. They keep their gaze on one another, letting all of their emotions linger between them. Adrienne smiles first and then Bree smiles back.

  I can’t keep watching this. I close my eyes once again and attempt to continue my steady breathing so that I still appear to be sleeping. This is torture… pure torture.

  “You really do taste like cherries,” I hear Bree say and I can imagine the beautiful smile on her face as she says it. I cringe.

  Adrienne laughs. “I’ll keep in mind that you like it.”

  “I’m not sure…”

  “Shhhh,” Adrienne hushes her, “we don’t have to talk about it tonight. Let’s just enjoy it. It was perfect, let’s keep it perfect for now, ok?”

  “Ok.”

  “Feel like getting some sleep? I mean, we might as well, he’s already all tucked in.”

  “Ok,” Bree replies again.

  I feel Adrienne roll me over from my belly to my side. “Here, you can sleep between us, I don’t think he’ll want to be waking up next to me.”

  Bree laughs, but I can hear the uneasiness in it. She’s uncertain about how I’d feel waking
up next to her too, but she crawls into the bed beside me anyway. Naturally, Adrienne strips down to her underwear and crawls in beside Bree. She isn’t shy, that girl, she never was. She shuts the lamp beside the bed off, and I finally open my eyes completely. Bree’s body is pressed right against mine and all I can seem to think about is touching her. I want to wrap my arms around her and pull her close to my body, keeping her far away from Adrienne. I don’t want anyone else to have her. But instead, I keep my hands off of her body completely.

  I watch Bree place her hand over top Adrienne’s resting palm. Slowly, Adrienne spreads her fingers apart and Bree intertwines hers between Adrienne’s. Once she does this, Adrienne curls her fingers downwards, locking Bree’s in between hers, and they both smile at each other.

  In this moment, it’s obvious to me that being with a girl is completely natural for Bree. She’s comfortable with Adrienne, there’s no second-guessing, there’s no uncertainty. Seeing her hand intertwined with Adrienne’s like this makes it clear to me that I’ve made the right choice for her. This is Bree; this is her true self, her free self. She deserves that. As much as it kills me to see it, I know she deserves it.

  I close my eyes once again, taking in a few deep breaths. Then, after a minute of trying not to think about the two beautiful girls holding hands in the same bed as me, I begin to drift off into the land of dreams where my heart isn’t broken, and I don’t feel like a complete idiot for going after a lesbian in the first place.

  Skylar

  Spencer and I reach the red brick building Isabelle described for us relatively quick. Her directions were pretty good, making it not very difficult to find the place at all. But she wasn’t lying when she said that the place would look abandoned. For anyone walking by, they would never think twice that anything might be going on here.

  All the windows are boarded up, and the covered wooden porch on the front of the building is rotted black. There is yellow caution tape wrapped around the porch to keep people away from the deathtrap. The stairs alone could harm someone.