Hard to Resist

by Shanora Williams

  “Dad?” I breathe.

  “Hey, Natty Bear.” I can tell that he’s smiling.

  “Are you alright?”

  “Never better, baby.” He pauses and I chew on my bottom lip until it hurts enough to stop. “Look, I won’t keep the tension in the air. Your mother and I talked last night . . . and I mean really talked,” he sighs through a breathy chuckle. “We talked about us, about what was really going on between us, and why we were mad at one another in the first place. And you want to know what we came up with?”

  I gulp again, forcing myself to keep my eyes on the guardrail of the patio to prevent any dizziness from taking over. “What?” I ask.

  “The conclusion was that we didn’t know why the hell we were arguing to begin with. At first, I thought it was me. And then she thought it was her. She blamed me for wanting a divorce but when I really looked at her—when I really took in how she felt—I knew what was wrong.”

  My eyebrows stitch. “What do you mean?”

  He sighs. “I mean that your mother doesn’t want this. She doesn’t want a divorce and she doesn’t want to separate. She just wants me to fight back. She feels as if I’m careless when it comes to our relationship but in all reality, I love your mother. She can win any fight that goes on between us and I will still love her the same. She can knock me out cold and give me a black eye, but she will still be my wife. When I said the words “‘til death do us part”, I meant every bit of it. I’m not leaving Darlene, Natalie.”

  As my father finishes his rant, my heart does ten glee-filled flips in my chest. I can’t believe it. “So you’re not going through with the divorce? Is that what you’re saying?” I ask, squeezing my phone against my ear.

  “Hell no,” he grumbles. “I grew up to love one woman and I’m doing just that. I love my wife and last night I took her in my arms and made it clear. I guess that’s what she was waiting on. For me to give it to her straight.” He sighs and I know for sure that he’s just raked his fingers through his greying hair. “I just don’t understand why she would think I stopped loving her. That’s nearly impossible for me.”

  “Yeah.” I slouch down on one of the cushioned patio chairs. “I don’t either. To be honest, I think Grandma Minnie is putting thoughts into her head. Grandma hates you and of course mom listens to everything that that woman says.”

  “I can’t stand that woman,” he growls. “If she wasn’t family she would be in a cardboard box on the side of the road somewhere.”

  I giggle as I pull at a loose string that is attached to my tan camisole. Dad chuckles with me for a brief moment before the line goes silent. “So, does this mean that I don’t have to worry anymore?” I ask.

  “Not at all, Natty. I swore an oath to your mother—to you—and I’ll be damned if after all of these years, my marriage goes down the drain.”

  “Well, good. I’m glad, Daddy.” Right now, a smile is stuck firmly to my lips. I’m smiling like a big goof but I can’t feel any better from hearing this. It’s a big relief on my behalf. I was dreading this moment on the phone but now I’m glad that it happened. I’m glad that my father fought for what he truly loves. And that’s my mother, Darlene Missy Carmichael.

  “Yep,” he says through a sigh. “So how are things down in Miami? When are you going to pay us a visit again? Your mom misses you.”

  “Things are actually great right now, Dad. And I’m not sure. Maybe around Thanksgiving.”

  “No . . . er . . . boyfriend or boy problems are there?”

  I giggle and I can almost imagine him trying to keep a straight face. “None, dad. Everything is fine. Although I did meet this one guy.”

  “Name?”

  “Nolan.”

  “Is Nolan a “hottie” as you and Grace used to call those guys on T.V.?”

  I giggle just thinking of how Gracey and I used to squeal over Jason Mraz. He had a voice to die for. “Nolan is really cute, dad.”

  “Well just don’t get hurt by this Nolan character. Remember, I was a guy once. We strive for one thing at such a young age.”

  I groan. “Okay—enough, dad. I think I got it.” I shake my head as I stand from my chair.

  “I’m just saying, Nat. Back in the day, looking at your mom would make me just wanna—”

  “Oh my God! Dad, stop!” I squeal, trying my hardest to bite back on a smile.

  He chuckles heavily as I step back into the condo. “I love you, Natty. Your mom should be calling you later.”

  “I love you too, Dad. Kiss her for me tonight.”

  “I plan on doing much—”

  Giggling, I end the call way before he can even finish his sentence. My dad never used to hide the fact that he and my mom had tons of sex. Sometimes it was okay because they understood that sex is natural but when they started talking about it, I had to dismiss myself from the room because things got pretty awkward. Heading back to the table, I tuck myself beneath it and begin to write again, this time with a happier purpose.

  ****

  Rounds of applauds fill the room, and although I didn’t win, I’m proud of the winner. Kelly Sparks. Long legs, beautiful, curly brown hair, glossy pink lips, and a body that I would die for. On top of it, she was as sweet as candy. She deserved it.

  Clunking my way off of the stage with my high red sequined heels that matched well with my ruby red dress, I turned for the girl’s locker room. I grabbed for my things without even bothering to change. I was just ready to go home. After a whole days work of practicing and running in fourth place of the pageant, I was exhausted. I didn’t think fourth place was too bad. I was only glad that I was in a spot before Sara.

  Before stepping out of the locker room, I spotted Sara bawling her eyes out as her minions/best friends Madison Brewer and Danielle Lucas rubbed her back.

  “Get the fuck off of me,” Sara growled as she pulled away from them. “I should have won that shit. I should have just cheated my way to the top, like my mom told me to do. That ribbon and tiara should have been mine! I’m way higher than seventh fucking place.”

  Silently, I pulled the door open. I smiled to myself the whole way through the halls. Some people gave their condolences and said “congrats” and “great job” but I was more than relieved that all of the attention wasn’t on me. Kelly deserved it. She wasn’t popular at all, but she was beautiful. She wasn’t a cheerleader or a flirtatious chick. She was just a normal girl that was involved in the yearbook committee and even the debate team. She had goals, dreams, and that’s what I loved about her. Her speech was touching and her focus was on herself.

  Flickers and flashes of cameras were going off and at the moment, I just wanted to see my mother. My father was there. I saw him in the crowd looking as lost as ever. I should have been upset about the fact that my mother wasn’t there because she was the one that made me audition and she was the one that chose my dress and shoes and had the appointment set up for me to get my hair done. I could have been mad at her, but I wasn’t. Seeing my father was kind of enough and in a way, I didn’t want her to be disappointed. My mom has always strove to be a winner. Nothing less. Even when I told her I came in fourth place, she wasn’t satisfied with it and I know that if I could get another year in school, she would have made me go just to audition again.

  But I didn’t mind it. I was glad to be in the top five, at least.

  As I stepped out, the fall air was brisk but not necessary for me to have a jacket. I stumbled around the corner, clutching my keys in my hand and making my way to my white Camry but just as I was nearing it, someone was already standing there.

  He had on dark jeans, a black Rolling Stones T-shirt, and a grey baseball cap on his head that hooded his eyes. I couldn’t see anything but his mesmerizing smile that caused my heart to stumble over the beats. As he pushed from the car, his shoes pressed against the asphalt and his hand wrapped around my waist. He took my things out of my hands to place them on the trunk of my car then immediately crushed his lips against mine.

>   His tongue tasted like beer and a mix of peanuts. I immediately pulled away from him and tilted his baseball cap back to get a clear sight of his eyes. “Bryson, have you been drinking?”

  “Just a little,” he murmured, his lips still graced with a grin.

  I bit on my bottom lip as he pulled me in closer. “You drove here drunk?”

  “I’m not drunk, Natalie.” Just as he said that he staggered just a bit. “Just . . . tipsy I guess.”

  “You’re not tipsy. You’re drunk,” I snapped. I turned to scan the parking lot and spotted the silver chrome of his motorcycle that his mother had given to him as an early birthday gift. My head whipped to look at him again. If he drove his motorcycle that only meant that he was hanging around Moe’s with a few older friends that were in college. At Moe’s, they don’t check for I.D. They ignore the policy.

  “Bryson, I think I should drive you home. We can pick your bike up in the morning.” I pulled away from him to grab my things off of the trunk but before I could make it to open the back door of my car, Bryson pressed against me and my chest pushed against the glass. “Bryson,” I struggled to say. I could hardly breathe. “What are you doing?”

  “I wanna do it. Right here, Natalie. I’ve been waiting all night for it.”

  “No.” I shook my head then turned around to face him. I don’t know how I managed to spin, considering the fact that there was minimal space between us. Bryson’s hands pinned on both sides of me and barricaded me in. His emerald eyes were hooded but hard. His eyes scanned their way from mine to my chest then to the curve of my breasts in my dress. Usually when I spotted him looking at my cleavage I would find it cute, but that time around, I was afraid. He was looking at me as if he wanted to take me away from my free will. “Bryson, seriously. Come on.” I tried to push my way past him while also aiming to keep my voice steady but he remained in front of me.

  “You’re not taking me home, Nat. Right here. Now,” he demanded. I gulped as tears crept to my eyes but as soon as he spotted them he pulled his hands down to hold my face up. I kept my gaze down to hold the tears back. “Don’t cry, Natalie. Don’t you love me?” he asked.

  Like a love-struck idiot, I nodded.

  “Then why can’t we make love right here. Right now. In your backseat. There’s plenty of space. I need to release. I need to feel every part of you. I’ve missed you.”

  I nodded again. Although I didn’t realize it then, he was only using love as an excuse. He knew that I would do anything for him—that I would go through with whatever he wanted. I was a fool in love. I only wanted to be wanted by him.

  “Okay,” I breathed through another nod.

  “That’s my baby,” he said then pulled me against him to open the back door of my car.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  It was no surprise that I woke up with tears in my eyes. All night I had been thinking about it and all night I realized the truth. What Bryson and I had wasn’t love. We weren’t in love and he couldn’t have loved me because a lover wouldn’t have forced themselves onto someone that they shared their heart with. I’m such an idiot. I hate that I did that to myself.

  Snatching a towel from my basket, I rush for the shower. After about fifteen minutes, I wrap the towel around me and blow-dry my hair. As I gaze into the mirror that’s when I realize that I’m crying. I have been since I stepped foot into the bathroom.

  I honestly can’t believe myself. It’s a shame that after everything is over is when I want to face facts. I’ve been lying to myself for four years just to cover up for Bryson. I wanted him to be the perfect boyfriend, the perfect friend. I didn’t want any of his flaws to get in the way so I ignored them. I ignored everything about him that had made me uncomfortable. If I would have known how fucking stupid I was making myself look, I would have broken up with him way before two months ago.

  I rush for my room and grab my phone quickly. I dial Grace’s number and she answers after the second ring.

  “What happened to my picture?” she whines.

  “Sorry, Grace. I forgot.”

  She groans. “Forgiven. I take it that he’s just really ugly and you don’t want me to see him. It’s okay if he is. Ugly guys usually have kind hearts.”

  I would usually laugh at something like that, but I don’t. “Grace, I have a question and I want you to be completely honest with me right now.”

  She pauses. “Okay.”

  “When I dated Bryson . . . did you notice anything . . . wrong?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean did he seem controlling, edgy, manipulative? Did I seem like his puppet?”

  Grace’s side of the line goes silent. I wait for her to answer for almost ten seconds before saying her name again.

  “Grace, please be honest with me.”

  “Nat, I never wanted to say anything. Bryson had an abusive edge. We all knew it. He never hit you or anything—at least I hope he didn’t—but when he said come, you came. When he said run, you ran. When he said jump, you jumped. He owned you in his own little way. You did everything that he said. Sometimes it scared me. You brushed me off too much. Too much to the point where I didn’t like speaking on it anymore. You were in love, Natalie. It’s what happens. We’re blind for months—years—and we don’t even realize it.”

  I want to speak. I want to say something to that but I can’t. Something is keeping the words trapped. Perhaps it’s my dry throat that has suddenly become scratchy. Or maybe it’s my tears that are blinding me once again. I slouch down on the corner of my bed as the tears pour uncontrollably. I seriously can’t believe myself. I can’t believe Bryson.

  “It’s okay, Natalie,” Grace coos. “It’s a lesson. I’m glad you got out of it. I was afraid that one day he would have actually ended up hitting you. Then I would have had to beat his ass.”

  I choke on a sob and a giggle. “I just feel so fucking worthless, Grace. I loved him—”

  “You thought you loved him,” she corrects. “It wasn’t love, Natalie. He just wanted you to believe that it was. I’m sorry to say it, but Bryson has that kind of effect on girls. He had you wrapped around his finger.”

  “But all I can remember is the good of him.”

  “That happens,” she notes. “We only store the good. Never hold in the bad. It’s a part of being human. We don’t want to face reality so we block it out and try to hold on to the best that we have.”

  I shake my head. All of this time I’ve been some sort of blow-up sex doll for Bryson. Now that I think about it, Bryson and I had sex almost every other day. Even during my first month of meeting him, he asked to make love to me until I finally gave into him. We were only freshmen but I still find it odd that he can be that way after so many years. And it’s a shame because he didn’t change at all. From freshman to senior year, Bryson was the same.

  Now I can’t believe myself for comparing him to Nolan. Nolan is nothing like that. Of all of the times that Nolan and I were together, not once has he pushed himself onto me. He could be manipulative and try, but he doesn’t. He can make me as horny as he wants to make me—he can tease me until I can’t take it anymore—but he never goes against my free will.

  Wow.

  As it occurs to me, I hop from my bed and rush for my dresser. “Grace. I’m gonna have to call you later.” I end the call, not even allowing her enough time to get a word in.

  Although what I’m about to do may cause damage to myself even more, I have to. I have to go.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  As my tires roll near the curb, a slight panic swarms my emotions immediately. The beach house is two-stories high with patio on top of patio. Various cars are swamped around the house along with a few motorcycles. Stepping out of the car, I place my hand over my eyes to block the sun. I gulp the brick in my throat as I spot the mud-green Jeep Wrangler parked in the driveway. It’s a shame how that car is the one that stands out the most to me.

  “Okay,” I breathe to myself. “I can do thi
s.”

  Clutching my keys in hand, I weave my way through the cars and bikes to get to the porch of the house. It’s around nine-thirty in the morning and I’m sure no one is going to be up considering the fact that when graduates party, they do it like there’s no tomorrow but I don’t have any other choice. I refuse to wait because if I do, I’ll think about it too much and I won’t make it happen. I’ll regret my decision.

  As I meet the tall white door, I hesitate on my next step. I push my bangs away from my eyes, take a deep breath, and then step forward to knock. At first, it is silent. I can’t hear a thing inside. But after only few moments, I hear footsteps and with every one of them, my heart thuds against my ribcage.

  I hear the lock on the door clink, the sliding of the chain, and then it swings open quickly. Spotting the sculpted chest and the white basketball shorts that are riding low on his hips, I jerk my gaze up quickly to meet the light-blue eyes of Mark.

  “Hi,” I breathe.

  With a busted bottom lip, Mark smiles as he leans against the frame of the door. His arms fold as he looks me over in my white shorts, custard-yellow tank-top, and my purposely messy bun. “Took you long enough.”

  “Whatever,” I groan. “Don’t think you’re forgiven because you’re not.”

  He sighs as his smug smile fades. “I know. Natalie, I’m seriously sorry. It’s like I remember it, but I can’t believe I actually did that to you.”

  I keep my mouth sealed, refusing to speak on it. “Bryson here?”

  He raises an eyebrow. “Is that what you called me for this morning? Bryson?” he grumbles.

  “I have to speak with him. It’s important.”

  Mark steps away from the frame while unfolding his arms. “Well, good luck with that. He’s upstairs with your “best friend”.”

  I frown, knowing that he’s being sarcastic while referring to Sara. “Can you just go and get him and tell him to come out or something?”