See Through Heart

by Amie Knight

  I foolishly slammed my lips down on hers. I couldn’t help it. She froze for only a second before her body melted like butter into mine. Fuck, I had forgotten how her frame fit so perfectly to mine. She opened her mouth and slid her tongue against mine and all was lost but us, this very moment. I was so hungry. It felt like I’d been hungry for years, and now, I was determined to take my fill. I ate and ate from her mouth and it still never felt like enough. When her small hands made their way under my wet T-shirt and ran up my stomach and onto my chest, I lost all control. I growled low as I ran one hand into her soaked hair and gripped tight while moving my other hand over her shirt to her small but fucking perfect breast. I rubbed my thumb over her nipple and then brought my fingers together, squeezing the tight bud. She moaned into my mouth, and that was all the permission I needed. I pushed her body up against the car with my own until she was leaning on it and moved my trembling hand down from her breasts to her pants, sliding it inside her underwear. My breath caught on contact.

  “Fuck, baby,” I said into her mouth. “You’re so wet and warm for me.”

  She tilted her pelvis toward my hand and leaned further back onto the car, her body begging for more. And, at that moment, I wanted to give her it all. Every. Damn. Thing. I slid my middle finger deeper into her heat, penetrating her. The gasp she let go against my mouth pushed me on. My thumb rubbed lazy slow circles around her clit while I fucked her with my fingers. She was beautiful in her bliss. She ground herself against my hand while I ravished and punished her mouth with my own.

  Her breaths started coming faster and faster, and I could feel her getting close. I leaned back so that I could see her face when she finally let go. She laid her head back against the car and arched her neck so beautifully. It was so striking, so magnificent. I wanted to paint her just like that, draped over my blue Mustang, her mouth parted in pure bliss, ecstasy etched across every feature on her face. I wanted the world to see how fucking spectacular she looked when she was mine.

  “Please. Adrian, please,” she begged as she grabbed my wrist, pushing my hand harder against herself. “Please, faster.” Her pleading sent my mind reeling.

  I moved my thumb faster around her nub and pushed my fingers deeper and harder into her. “Come on, baby. Let me see it. Come for me. Come on my hand,” I whispered in her ear before sucking and biting her earlobe. And, God, I wanted to see her fall apart for me. Only me.

  “Yes, yes,” she said so softly that I almost didn’t hear it over the rain.

  She was riding my hand, her head thrown back in rapture, when I felt her shatter apart. It was gorgeous and ugly and so real, and in that moment, I knew I was fucked because I wanted it over and over and over again.

  She wrapped her arms around me and rested her forehead on my chest as her breathing slowed. Meanwhile, I felt like a bomb ready to detonate, my anxiety reaching all-time highs. How had I allowed that to happen? It had been a mistake, but I wanted to make it again, only this time inside her.

  Ainsley interrupted my thoughts. “I’m sorry, Adrian. I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have left.”

  My body locked tight with her words. They pushed through me like steel in my veins. That’s right. She had left me and she would probably leave me again. Her life was in Nashville and mine was there in Gilbert, and God knows Ainsley didn’t want to be here. She would leave when her momma was better. She was going to hurt me again, and the only person I would have to blame was me. Because I was weak and this woman was my complete undoing.

  I pulled out of her arms and mumbled a weak apology. “I’m sorry. I need to go.” I pulled her away from the car and opened my door before sliding my soaking wet body into the seat and slamming the door shut.

  Ainsley knocked a fist on my window, so I cracked it open enough to hear her.

  “We need to talk, Adrian. Don’t run away. Please, stay.” She looked pathetic standing out in the rain, wet to the bone, begging for me not to leave.

  But I couldn’t stay because, if I did, that would be it. She would have all of me and then she would throw me away like yesterday’s garbage when she was done with me. I couldn’t survive that again. I’d barely lived through it the first time.

  I shot her a steely look through the window and let out a sarcastic chuckle. “You should probably start packing, princess.”

  She looked confused and dazed by my response. “What? What are you talking about? Why do I need to start packing?” she asked.

  “Because isn’t that what you do? You come. And then you go?” I answered.

  She looked perplexed for only a second before realization dawned.

  Angry daggers flew from her eyes as I rolled my window up and mouthed, “Step back,” through the glass. I needed to get the hell out of there before she blew because I knew it was coming.

  I carefully backed the car out of the driveway while Ainsley barreled after my car. She slammed her fist onto my hood, screaming, “Fuck you, Adrian! Just fuck you!”

  I gave up on careful and finished pulling out as quickly as I could, peeling out onto the main road. I checked the rearview mirror and there she stood, angry as hell, screaming at the top of her lungs. Even as scared as I was of my reaction to her after all of those years, I couldn’t help but smirk at the anger, the absolute fire in my sunshine’s face. It had been good to see something other than that sad, despondent expression I had grown accustomed to since she’d been home.

  Yep. Fuck me. Just fuck me.

  My head was aching and my entire body was sore from having spent most of the night on the bathroom floor with my momma. Chemo was kicking both of our asses, and even though I was beyond tired, I was feeling just so incredibly thankful that I was there to help her. I made a mental note to call Miranda and tell her exactly that. I owed her a thank-you, because my momma needed me, and because of Miranda, I was there.

  After a long night of holding Momma’s hair while she threw up over and over again, we’d both slept until almost noon. Now, I was dragging ass but determined to get some food into her. I started boiling water on the stove for some bland oatmeal, hoping she would keep it down. I’d just started loading the dishwasher with last night’s dishes when I heard the buzzing sound of the lawn mower from the backyard. I pressed my face against the window over the sink and looked toward the left side of the yard, where the sound was coming from. Sure enough, there stood Adrian. The rat bastard.

  Despite myself, I pressed my face closer to the glass like the infatuated teenager I was beginning to think I was acting like. Of course he would look ridiculously sexy while mowing the grass, his hat placed backwards on that thick mane of dark hair, his old tight white T-shirt, and his faded blue jeans molding perfectly to his fine ass. I lifted the hair off my neck and used my other hand to fan myself. He was absurdly hot, and it pissed me right the hell off.

  It’d been just a week since the epic rainstorm orgasm of 2016. Yep, I was calling it that because it had been the most epically awesome orgasm of my life. Not that I had much to compare it to. I’d had exactly two orgasms that hadn’t been at my own hands, and Adrian had given me both of them. I was still mad as hell about the beginning and the ending of that night, but the stuff in the middle—the orgasm stuff? I wasn’t mad about that at all. In fact, I couldn’t stop thinking about his skin against mine and the determined look on his face as he’d pushed me over the edge. I’d seen how he’d wanted me as much as I wanted him, and it made me forget that I’d left him and he hated me. For those few moments when his body had towered over mine, the heavy rain shielding us from the rest of the world, we’d been just Ainsley and Adrian. We’d been the us that fit together like two puzzle pieces—the us before Lori had died.

  I really hadn’t meant to start a huge fight in the kitchen that night. I’d only wanted to know how much and how often he had been helping my momma. I had even been planning to say thank you and hope for some kind of civility between us. And I’d only been looking at his dick a little bit when he’d been fixing the kitche
n sink. I mean, what was I supposed to do? His dick was right there. It seemed weird not to look at it. Dude, I was turning into a total creeper.

  Honestly, I was just finding this whole situation bizarre. I’d had no idea that Adrian had been helping Momma the whole time I’d been gone. When Adrian had shown up at the hospital, I’d been on the verge of another one of my damn panic attacks. It’d been so hard to walk into that hospital, and I’d kept it together long enough to get Momma settled, but then I’d bolted for the door. God, everything in that damn place made me feel sick. From the smells to every familiar sound. My stomach had twisted in knots. Thank God Adrian had shown up, and even though his words had been harsh, I’d needed them. His hand in mine as he’d walked me through those doors had comforted me beyond measure. So no. I wasn’t shocked he’d been there for Momma when I hadn’t been because it was Adrian, and even though I wanted to strangle his sexy ass, I knew he was a good, decent, and loving person. It was sweet, admirable, and just plain him.

  It only felt odd because I should have been the one helping her, but I hadn’t been there. I should have been though. And that’s what this all came back to. Me. I was responsible for every bit of this. But, still, I hadn’t expected his hateful words right after he’d made me come against his car.

  “You come. And then you go.”

  It’d stunned me so completely that I’d frozen for a second, thinking I’d surely misheard him. Even now, I felt my embarrassment at the situation climb up my face. I wouldn’t make that same mistake again, even if it had been epic. Even if it had felt good to let go and be the old me for a bit. I wasn’t going to let him have me like that again only to insult me afterwards.

  God, I still wanted him though. Even knowing I didn’t deserve him hadn’t stopped me from running off that porch and practically begging for an answer as to why he hadn’t come for me. I could tell he’d been shocked by my question. His reasons for not having come had been all too valid. Even so, I couldn’t do this anymore. He needed to leave me the hell alone now that I was back home. I wasn’t going to be his play toy.

  The lawnmower’s cutting off jarred me from my thoughts and I focused on the backyard again. Adrian was only a few feet in front of the window, drinking some water. He put the water down and then reached for the bottom of his shirt. Holy hell. Not today. I was still reeling from our night in the rain. I did not need to see him without his shirt. I was a weak woman though, so I pushed my face right up against the glass again. Abs and lean muscles for days covered in sweat had me biting my lip when, all of a sudden, he turned toward me like he had felt me watching him. I jerked my head away from the window, embarrassed that I had been caught gawking. Again.

  Adrian shot me a knowing smile, and I wanted to smack it right the hell off his face. I could tell in that single look that he knew. He knew that my love for him was as strong as it had been the first day he’d put his lips to mine. He knew that, with one careless flicker of his finger, I would come running. And I would because it was all true—no matter how mad at him I was, I was still irreparably in love with him. However, he didn’t need to rub it in my face. Arrogant son of a bitch.

  I raised my fist to the window and slowly let my middle finger rise from my hand, giving him a fuck-you smile of my own. Take that, asshole.

  Even through the windowpane, I could hear his muffled words. “Been there. Done that, sweetheart.”

  I slammed the blinds down on his sarcastic chuckle and huffed over to the stove only to run right into my Momma.

  “Where you off to in such a snit? And is that Adrian I heard out back, mowing the grass?” she asked.

  “Yep, he’s out there.” And using every bit of his sex appeal to make me miserable. I wanted to bang my head on the counter a couple of times, but instead, I stirred the oatmeal on the stove.

  Momma came up behind me and wrapped her arms around me, resting her head on my shoulder. I let out a relieved sigh at her hug.

  “You know that, if you ever want to talk, I’m here, right? And I’m told I’m a really good listener.”

  I did know that because my momma had always been there for me. I realized I was one of the lucky ones because I had an amazing momma, one who’d never let me down. And that’s exactly why I couldn’t talk to her about this. She was sick and I was supposed to be taking care of her, not troubling her with all of my problems. I wanted to take care of her like she’d taken care of me my entire life.

  “I know, Momma,” I said, laying my hand over hers at my waist.

  “You know that you can tell me anything, right?”

  God, I didn’t want to tell her just anything. I wanted to tell her everything. I wanted to stomp my feet, cry, scream, and let it all out. I wanted to tell her how by not going to that party with Lori, I’d virtually killed her. I wanted to tell her that I still had nightmares about Lori’s time in the hospital. I wanted to tell her that I shouldn’t have left, that I was sorry and I missed her so much while I was gone that I sometimes felt like I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to tell her that Adrian hated me and I couldn’t bear it. That, every time he gave me a disgusted look, I died a little inside.

  I didn’t tell her any of that though. Instead, I kept stirring the oatmeal and said, “I know, Momma. I love you.”

  I woke up the next morning feeling even worse than the night before despite having gotten a full night’s sleep. I’d had my first nightmare since I’d been home, and it’d been the very worst of all.

  I was walking down the halls of Gilbert Hospital all alone, wearing only a long, white nightgown. The tile was cold against my feet, and the only sound I could hear was the thunder of my heart in my chest. On each side of me, the walls were lined with doors. One after the other. I was looking for someone or something, but most of the doors I tried to open were locked solidly. Occasionally, I would stumble across an unlocked door and find two neatly made beds inside. Every room was vacant or locked, and I felt my anxiety ratchet up a notch. Eventually, I became hysterical, running from room to room, frantically checking doors. Just when I thought I couldn’t stand it a minute longer, I opened a door and found someone in one of the two beds in the room. I slowly and tentatively walked toward the bed, terrified of what I might find lying there.

  I approached the end of the bed and saw two feet and long legs covered in white all the way up to the chest of the person lying flat in the bed. I kept going up the bed until I reached the face of this mystery person only to discover that it was Adrian. His blue eyes were open and vacant. His lips almost exactly matched his eyes. Blue. He was dead.

  A silent scream fell from my lips. I screamed again, but still, no sound came from my mouth. “Adrian! Adrian!” I yelled over and over again, yet the room remained completely silent.

  I’d shot up in the bed feeling like I was going to die right there. No air. There was no damn air to be had. I’d clutched my hand to my chest and counted backwards from ten, praying for oxygen to come, and eventually, it had. I didn’t think I’d ever had such a bad panic attack in my life, and I’d had plenty since I’d lost Lori.

  I’d buried my hands in my hair and cried. I knew I had been getting worse since I’d gone home. Around every corner was a memory of Lori and Adrian, and sometimes, it was almost insufferable being there. I was enduring for my momma. But that dream. That dream had stayed with me most of the day. I couldn’t get the image of Adrian lying there like Lori out of my head. I knew why I’d dreamt that. Because I had lost him. I’d never get him back, and this was my subconscious’s way of letting me know. I’d lost him and he’d never forgive me. He’d be walking around this small town twenty years from now, still throwing me dirty looks and wishing I’d never come back. This was my bed. I’d made it. Now, I’d lie in it. It was time to move on and quit pining over him. It wasn’t healthy. It was time to let the dream go along with the nightmare.

  I didn’t need Adrian. I needed to be stronger on my own. I didn’t have one fucking clue how to do that, but I’d figure it out. I’
d figure out how to be me again, whoever the hell she was. It’d been four years. I could barely remember her, but I knew a few things about her. She loved fiercely and openly. She didn’t hide. She didn’t leave her loved ones. She loved this town. She loved this house. She loved herself. I had to get there again. Time. It’d take time.

  I’d thrown a T-shirt and faded jeans on and run down the hall to Lori’s room, determined to open her door. Only I couldn’t. I’d just stood outside of it and laid my palms to the door, wishing I were braver. Eventually, I’d laid my hot cheek to the smooth, cool wood too, knowing I was standing on the precipice of something big, only I couldn’t push forward. I was too scared. Tears had silently rolled down my cheeks, but I’d kept my face pressed to her door, so close but so far away. Not that day, but eventually, I’d open that damn door.

  I’d spent the rest of the day cleaning bathrooms and vacuuming and dusting. In the evening, I’d grabbed my violin and played for hours and hours, until my fingers were hurting and my shoulder and my neck were stiff. Still, it hadn’t been enough. I’d thrown some flip-flops on and left my hair down and wavy. I’d looked in the mirror and decided I couldn’t be bothered to put my mask on. Instead, I wanted to be the Ainsley I used to be. The one Adrian had loved.