10 Years

by Bethany Lopez

  Attuned to the signs of my mounting pleasure, Craig added another finger and curled them slightly as he pumped in and out of me. When I was so close I thought I’d lose my mind, Craig sucked my clit into his mouth and flicked it rapidly with his tongue.

  The man was a master, and I may have shouted just that as I threw my head back, clenched his shoulders tightly, and enjoyed the most fantastic orgasm of my life. It was so good that when he moved his hands and began to stand, I fell to the floor like a rag doll.

  “Are you okay?” Craig asked, leaning over me.

  I opened one eye to see his eyes filled with concern, and his mouth trying not to quirk up.

  “Just leave me here,” I managed to say breathlessly. “I’ll die a happy woman.”

  Craig didn’t bother to hide his laughter at that, and I wanted to smile along with him as he put his arms under me and lifted me up, but I didn’t have the strength to manage it.

  He laid me down on the bed, then got in next to me and pulled the covers up over my naked body. I snuggled into his warmth and noticed he still had his underwear on.

  “I’ll be ready to give you yours in a minute … or maybe an hour. It’s too soon to tell.”

  I felt his chuckle underneath my cheek.

  “Don’t worry about it,” his voice rumbled beneath me. “Tonight was all about you.”

  I breathed in deeply, finding comfort in the slight smell of his cologne, mixed with his male scent. It smelled like heaven and sex, all wrapped up into one sexy package. A sexy package with a magical tongue.

  I sighed loudly, unembarrassed by my obvious contentment. He’d done a magnificent job making sure I was satiated; he deserved some props. He should be proud of himself … I know I was.

  He brushed his hand along my hair, and I felt him undoing the braid that had been holding it together all evening. Once it was loose, he ran his fingers through it, and lulled me to sleep.

  Chapter Thirty-One ~ Craig

  Present Day (20 years old)

  It was great to be home. As much as I loved school, and my independence, there was nothing like being in my childhood home. My mom’s cooking was the best, and my dad was always tinkering around with something. It was nice to find that some things never changed.

  Even better, Cal and Shelly were there with Sophie and Timmy, my niece and nephew.

  I sat at the dinner table, taking in the chatter and laughter all around me, with a smile on my face. The only thing that would have completed the scene was Gwen being there as well.

  Of course, I understood that she wanted to spend time with her family, just like I did, and was currently out with her mom, Gaby, Scott, and Emma. Later, the adults would all be meeting up to see Whiskey Heat play, so it wasn’t as if I’d be away from her for long.

  But I missed her.

  We’d been inseparable over the last few weeks, spending the night at one or the other’s apartment. We met for coffee in between classes, or after my practices, and alternated going out and cooking dinner at home. Well … I cooked, she cleaned. The girl seriously couldn’t boil a potato, but I told her I’d teach her the basics.

  Things had been great. Easy. Comfortable. And we hadn’t discussed any of the things she’d promised me we would. I’d wanted to bring it up, truly I did … But she was so happy, and we were building a wonderful relationship. I was afraid to ruin it. Afraid she’d pull away again, and now, after getting a chance to be with her this way, I didn’t know if I’d survive her cutting me out again. So I hadn’t pushed.

  “You finished, son?” my dad asked, breaking me from my thoughts.

  I looked down at my empty plate, then back at my father.

  “Yeah, I’ve got it.” I stood and grabbed my plate, following him to the kitchen and placing it in the sink.

  “I wanted to talk to you for a minute,” he said needlessly. Since he never asked me about clearing my plate, I’d gathered as much.

  “Okay.”

  “Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the breakfast nook.

  My father was a handsome man. A few inches shorter than Cal and me, but still fit and active. His hair was a bit lighter than ours, which made it harder to see the grays he had threaded throughout it now, but they were there. Cal and I teased him about it all the time.

  I sat, place my hands on the table, and waited … These talks with my father were not uncommon. He’d sat me down when I started playing baseball, when I’d started dating, when Cal and Shelly had split up, and when I was deciding on whether to go to college or just play ball right out of high school. Because of this, I also knew that whatever he had to say would be important.

  “I’m glad to see you looking so content, son,” he began, his face serious, yet light. “The men in our family have always had a unique experience with love. We fall quickly, we fall fully, and we fall forever. Your grandfather met your grandmother when they were older than most for their time, but he knew instantly that she was the woman for him. It was the same for me with my Rose, Cal with Shelly, and you with Gwen.”

  I knew better than to interrupt when my father was giving advice, but I was surprised to hear that he equated me and Gwen to him and my mother.

  “Now, you may not have realized it, since you met each other so young, but I could see the connection right away. I knew that you would grow to love each other, and eventually spend your days together. We all face adversity in our relationships, Craig. It’s how we deal with our problems, and each other, that make or break us. The important things are to never give up, be generous with your forgiveness, and love unconditionally.”

  We sat quietly for a few seconds, Dad’s words echoing in my head, then I said, “Thanks, Dad.”

  He leaned in, clapped his hand around the back of my neck, and touched his forehead to mine.

  “She’s a great gal, Craig, you picked a good one.”

  “Yeah, she is,” I responded gruffly, my throat tight with emotion.

  My father placed his hand on my shoulder as he stood and said, “I hope you have room for dessert. Mom made your favorite.” Then he walked out of the kitchen, leaving me alone with my emotions.

  A couple minutes later I heard my brother ask, “You get the talk?”

  I looked at him with a grin and nodded.

  “The last one I got was about becoming a father, it was a good one,” Cal said with a half-grin. “Mom told me to grab you. We gotta have dessert so we can head out to the bar. You good?”

  “Yeah, man, everything’s perfect.”

  We had our dessert, Strawberry Shortcake, then I played on the floor with Sophie while Shelly finished getting ready and Cal fed and changed Timmy. My parents were thrilled to get their grandbabies for a whole night. Shelly was a little nervous about leaving Timmy alone for the first time, but I could tell Cal was excited to have his wife all to himself for the night.

  When we got to the bar, TJ, Sasha, Gaby, Scott, and Gwen were holding a table by the stage, where Brock and Brady were already warming up. Brendan wasn’t there yet, but as the lead singer, he always liked to make an entrance.

  We grabbed some drinks and joined our friends, Gwen causing my heart to nearly burst when she walked straight into my arms, lifted up on her feet, and kissed me thoroughly. I guess she’d missed me too.

  “How was dinner?” she asked after she finished paying homage to my mouth.

  “So good,” I replied, pushing the hair back from her face. “Yours?”

  “We went to one of those Japanese teppanyaki places. It was delicious!”

  “You been here long?” I asked right before the crowd began to cheer as Brendan sauntered onto the stage. The dude had the rock star persona down to a T.

  “About a half hour,” Gwen yelled over the crowd. “Victoria’s in the back. Brock tried to get her to stay home, but she refused to miss their return to the stage, so he compromised by making her promise to relax on the couch in the back. I talked to her for a little while.”

  “She should be about rea
dy to deliver, right?” I asked, looking nervously toward the door as if I expected her to burst through, screaming that it was time.

  “Any day now,” Gwen confirmed with a dreamy smile.

  The music started, so we turned our attention to the stage. Brock and his brothers were actually really talented, and I loved to hear them play. Their sound was great, and I was surprised that a label hadn’t picked them up yet.

  After a few songs, and a few soft drinks, Gwen excused herself to go to the bathroom. Of course, Sasha, Gaby, and Shelly joined her, so when ten minutes past and they still weren’t back, I wasn’t too surprised. The line for the ladies’ room was always worse than the men’s; plus, they were probably in there talking, since they could actually hear each other, unlike out here.

  Still, I found myself surveying the room. I looked around the bar, then the dance floor, before I found the women all standing off to the side of the room. Sasha, Gaby, and Shelly were surrounding Gwen, as she stood looking up at a tall dark-haired guy. I turned and started to walk toward them, curious to see who she was talking to, then he moved his head to the side and I saw it was Dave.

  That’s when I started running.

  Chapter Thirty-Two ~ Gwen

  Present Day (20 years old)

  We were coming out of the bathroom, laughing at something Sasha had said, when I felt a hand on my arm and turned. Then froze.

  I’d seen Brad and Dave around school after that night, of course I did, but they’d steered clear of me, and I of them. Since graduation, I’d been lucky enough not to see them at all. So I was surprised to look up and see the person who grabbed me was Dave. When I looked into his face, my stomach clenched and I instantly felt like the beautiful teriyaki chicken I’d had for dinner was about to make a reappearance.

  At first, I was too surprised to move. Gaby asking, “Who are you?” brought me back to the present and I yanked my arm away.

  “Never touch me!” I yelled at Dave, and I could feel the surprise coming off of my sister and her friends. I’m sure they’d never heard such contempt, such hate, from me before.

  “Sorry, little Gwen, I just saw you passing by and wanted to say hi,” Dave responded with a smirk, obviously not sorry at all.

  “Next time, resist the urge,” I replied angrily. “I have nothing to say to you. Ever.”

  “Calm down,” Dave said, his words slurring a bit, indicating he’d been drinking much longer than I had. “You’re a little spitfire now, aren’t you … You weren’t back then.” When he raised a finger to touch my face, I slapped it away, but I couldn’t slap away his words. “Too bad, it would have been more fun.”

  I gagged, literally, gagged at his insinuation.

  Suddenly, Sasha pushed in front of me and got in his face. “I don’t know who you are, or what the hell you’re talking about, but you need to get out of my girl’s face. Now!”

  He just chuckled and looked around Sasha at me and taunted, “Oh please, don’t act like you didn’t love very second of it,” which really pissed me off.

  I stood taller, walked around Sasha, and looked him dead in the eye.

  “You wish, you creepy mother fucker. Too bad you couldn’t get your own girls.”

  That’s when, out of nowhere, a fist connected with Dave’s chin and he went sprawling to the ground. I realized it was Craig’s fist when he tried to get on top of Dave and hit them again, but was held back by Scott and Cal.

  “What’s going on?” Gaby asked, her hand shaking gently on my arm.

  Dave got to his feet, quite unsteadily, then turned to Craig, “Come on, fucker. I’m not the scrawny kid you jumped in high school.”

  The guys still held Craig, who was straining to get away, but TJ walked around them and got in Dave’s face.

  “You’re also not underage anymore, you prick,” TJ was practically seething as he spoke, and I suddenly realized exactly what was happening.

  We were in the middle of the bar, at the concert that Brock and his brothers were giving, and we were having a confrontation with Dave. The guys were here. The girls were here. And they were all going to suspect what happened after the show I just gave. I felt waves of humiliation and anguish wash over me and turned to my sister.

  “Please, get me out of here.”

  I was barely hanging on, certain that my mortification was about to get much worse, when I broke down in front of everyone.

  “Let’s go, baby,” she said gently to me, and I saw her make a motion to Scott as she pulled me toward the door.

  Suddenly, again, Craig was there.

  “Gwen, are you okay?” His voice and face were full of concern. “I’m so sorry, baby, I had no idea he was here.”

  “You couldn’t have,” I whispered back, hoping to assuage him of any guilt he felt. It wasn’t his fault that jackass was in the same bar we were.

  “Let me take you home,” Craig said, reaching for my hand.

  I shook my head, keeping my eyes down so I wouldn’t see the hurt that I was sure my rejection would cause him.

  “I need my sister tonight.”

  “Okay,” he said, although I could tell by his tone that he wanted to argue. “Call me when you need me.”

  I bit my lip to try and hold back the tears. He was so sweet, so gentle … I just couldn’t need him right now. If I went with him, I would break, and didn’t think I could handle that.

  I left with Gaby and Scott, and were home before I knew it. Scott dropped Gaby and me off, and she led me around to her old place behind my mom’s house, rather than inside.

  I let her guide me, sit me on the couch, then put a cup of steaming tea in my hand, before I finally looked up into her worried face.

  “Can you talk to me?” my sister asked softly, sitting beside me.

  I took a deep breath and began, “When I was sixteen we went to a party…”

  I told her everything. About Brad and Dave. About Craig beating them up, even though he didn’t know the whole story. About the night at the USC Orientation, and the way I’d retreated from Craig afterwards. Everything.

  When I was done, my throat was sore and my tea was cold, but I felt as if a tremendous weight had been lifted off of my shoulders.

  I lifted my eyes to see Gaby wiping her wet cheeks. She’d cried softly off and on while I spoke, holding my hand when I told her things that were especially hard to say.

  “Oh, Gwennie, I’m so sorry that you went through that, and didn’t feel like you could talk to anyone about it,” Gaby said, beginning to weep again.

  I pulled her in for a hug, and we sat there holding each other for a while. Until we were both ready to let go.

  “It’s always been hard for you, ya know,” she said as she pushed my hair back from my face. “Ever since Dad left you’ve had a hard time expressing your feelings, or telling anyone when you were hurt.”

  “I have?”

  Gaby nodded.

  “But I hope you know, you can always tell me anything, Gwen, no matter what it is. I’m here for you.”

  “I know that, really I do, and I know that Craig’s there for me too,” I admitted. “It’s just sometimes, no matter how much I want to let it out, it’s like the words get stuck in my throat.”

  I leaned back and over, resting my head on Gaby’s shoulder, and she ran her hands over my hair.

  “Do you think you’re ready to talk to someone?” Gaby asked softly.

  I thought about her question. Would I be able to tell a stranger everything that had happened? Would it help? Or would dredging up the past just make things worse? Craig and I were in a great place now, and I didn’t want to screw that up. But, maybe in order to have the life I wanted, I needed to get it all out.

  “Yeah,” I responded. “It’s time.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three ~ Craig

  Present Day (20 years old)

  “Can you pass the sweet potatoes?”

  I was sitting at my mother’s Thanksgiving extravaganza, wondering if I should try to call Gwen a
gain, or wait for her to call me. I couldn’t deny the fact that I was worried about her.

  “Can you pass the sweet potatoes, please?”

  I’d left her alone last night, then I left her a message and shot her a text this morning, but hadn’t heard anything back.

  “Craig, can you please pass the sweet potatoes?”

  Had she talked to Gaby? Her mother? Was she sad, angry, hurting? Or, worse, had she retreated back into herself again, and was, even now, shutting me out?

  “CRAIG!” my father shouted, scaring the shit out of me.

  “Yeah, Dad?” I asked, my eyes wide and my heart pounding from being startled out of my thoughts.

  “Shelly’s been asking you to pass the sweet potatoes for the last five minutes.”

  I looked over at Shelly, who was giving me an apologetic smile, even though I’d been the one apparently ignoring her.

  “Oh, sorry, Shelly,” I said as I picked up the bowl of candied sweet potatoes and passed them to my sister-in-law.

  “That’s okay,” she responded sweetly.

  “Everything okay, son?” my dad asked, eyeing me suspiciously.

  “Uh, yeah, sorry, I was just thinking…” Then I turned my attention to my mother and tried to get the focus off of me. “Everything tastes great, Mom.”

  “Thanks, dear,” my mom said, her face suffused with pleasure at my compliment.

  My mom always did up Thanksgiving right. It was her favorite holiday, and she loved making massive amounts of food. Her sweet potatoes were the best, and her pecan pie was out of this world.

  Cal’s cell phone started ringing, so he stood up and excused himself while trying to dodge the dirty look our father shot him. Dad did not believe in cell phones at the table. Especially on holidays.

  A couple seconds later Cal came back and announced, “That was Brock, Victoria’s in labor. They are at the hospital and all checked in, they’re just waiting for her room to be ready. I guess she’s been having contractions for a while and waited to tell him, so she’s pretty far along already.”