by Sara Mack
He shakes his head. “I can’t.”
“Why?” I roll my eyes.
“Because I’ll never get enough of hearing you say how much you love me.”
“Is that what this is about?” I make a face. “Since when did you become so greedy?”
He abruptly moves forward, passing through my pointing finger, through my hand, and kisses me. This kiss feels different, stronger. His lips feel degrees colder and the cool air moves faster. When he stops I feel breathless.
“You don’t know how badly I wish I could touch you right now,” he says roughly.
His eyes follow his fingers as he traces my face from my temple to my cheek to my chin. His touch continues down my neck, brushes across my collarbone, glides to my shoulder, and then travels along my side to my waist to rest at my hip. When he looks back at me, his eyes burn.
I wish for that too, just as much. But I hold my tongue; I don’t want to make him feel any worse. Instead, I reach for his hand at my hip and wrap my fingers around his. “I love you,” I reassure him. I don’t want to discuss jealousy or limitations anymore. James watches me as I sit up and slide to the head of my bed. I reach for him and he folds himself around me. I drift off into a fitful sleep as my mind decides to make up for one thing we can no longer have. It plays another memory.
“Hold on a sec,” James whispers into my ear before he pushes himself off me. He quickly springs to the door and locks it.
“What?” I laugh. “You don’t want Chad to walk in on us?” Chad is James’ roommate.
“Hell no,” he grins, returning to me. He puts his hands on either side of my shoulders and leans in close. “I don’t get enough time alone with you,” he says before kissing me deeply.
“He has a key,” I remind him as his mouth leaves mine. I prop myself up so he has an easier time removing my shirt.
He pulls it off over my head. “No, he doesn’t.” His eyes light up and he glances at the desk that separates their beds.
I turn my head to see Chad’s student ID connected to a Ferris lanyard along with a few keys. I turn back to James. “Well, then,” I smile as I wrap my arms around his neck to pull him closer. He kisses me again, pressing me against the bed, as I run my hands along his sides and then reach around to trail them down his bare back. His lips leave mine only to reappear at the base of my throat, heading south. I close my eyes and my pulse races as he leaves a trail of kisses down the center of my body, traveling to my waist, and then burning a path to my hip. They leave my skin for mere seconds before they are on my mouth again. I grab his shoulders as he lowers his body to mine and wraps his arms beneath me. Shifting his weight, he falls to the side, pulling me with him. His back hits the wall beside the bed.
“Ow!” he says against my lips.
I giggle. “Are you all right?”
He pauses to smile and then buries his mouth under my ear. He moves and traps it with his teeth sending a chill down to my toes.
“I take it that’s a yes,” I whisper.
He shifts forward so we’re not propped against the wall anymore, and I drape my leg over his hip. As I pull myself closer his free hand roams over my naked back and then trails along my side. My mouth is on his again. I feel his hand hesitate at my hip and then reach around my waist. He grabs my side, tickling me.
“Ahhh!” I jump and push against his chest. “Stop! No tickling!”
James laughs as I try to wiggle out of his hold. He grabs my wrist with his free hand, and pins it against the bed. My leg is still looped around his. “I like to hear you laugh,” he grins.
With a smirk, I wrench my hand out of his and go for his side. He rolls and I follow him, sprawling across his chest to get to my target. Laughing, he reaches up and grasps my chin, forcing me to look at him. I give up on the tickling as he takes my mouth so thoroughly my head spins. I feel his fingers leave my face and trace lightly down my back, reaching the waistline of my jeans. He works his way just inside, and the combination of his kiss and his touch winds me. I need to catch my breath. I smile and open my eyes to look into his – and see Dane’s face staring back at me.
My body jolts and I snap awake, my heart pounding. I turn and reach for James, realizing the cool feeling of his body is no longer there. He has left me for the night. I roll over on my side, curl my knees to my chest, and wait for my heartbeat to slow. I try to erase the image of Dane mixed with James by clenching my eyes shut.
Holy hell. What was that?
I dump the unwanted milk from my cereal bowl into the sink and yawn as it flows down the drain. I’m exhausted. For the first time since James has come back to me, I did not sleep well. Our conversation and my insane dream kept resurfacing in my mind, making me feel more and more miserable. The jealousy that James feels has obviously planted itself in my subconscious. I wish he didn’t feel so limited. I wish he could read my mind and know, without a doubt, how much he means to me. How much he is and will always be enough for me. How can I make him see that? Will I ever be able to?
I think about James the entire drive to work. When I pull into the golf course I have to force myself to think about maneuvering my dad’s truck into a parking space. It’s a Silverado and the thing is huge. I don’t like driving it, but it was my only option if I wanted a new tire put on my car today. I sigh as I turn off the engine. My training day with Dane will be sure to set James off again tonight. I shudder as the dream I had returns to me. Seeing Dane today is the last thing I want to do. I rest my chin on the steering wheel and stare out the window as I contemplate faking an illness.
As I enter the pro shop, Kris greets me cheerfully. “Good morning, Emma. Go ahead and punch in then I’ll get you two started.” She nods to Dane, who is standing next to the counter wearing the requisite Bay Woods polo and khaki cargo shorts. He flashes me his all-too-familiar-grin. It irritates me, and I say nothing.
We’re assigned to one of the beverage carts. Dane follows me as I head out of the pro shop to where the carts are parked. I open the coolers to make sure they were emptied from last night. “We’ll need ice,” I inform Dane. “This cart takes about four bags; the other about three, just so you know.”
“Good morning to you, too,” Dane says.
I sigh. “Good morning.”
As we fill the cart with ice and bottles, I have to admit I need Dane’s help. It seems like I’m getting more and more tired. His ability to do all the heavy lifting is appreciated. After we get the cart filled and the inventory list tallied, I slide behind the wheel to head out on to the course.
“Oh no,” Dane objects and snatches the key from my hand. “I’ll be driving.”
“What? Why?”
“You’re distracted and moody,” he observes.
I give him a tired sigh. “I didn’t sleep well.”
He enters the cart, sliding behind the wheel and pushing me aside with his hip. “Obviously.” He puts the key in the ignition. “Dreaming about me?” he raises an eyebrow.
What?! I try to keep a shocked expression off my face by looking away and muttering, “You wish.”
“Oookay,” he says as he puts the cart in reverse. “Humor is not acceptable on the beverage cart. Got it, boss.”
We head out and I direct Dane around the entire course, pointing out the places I typically stop when it is crowded. There aren’t many people golfing this early on a Wednesday morning, and we only manage to unload a bottle of water and a bottle of cranberry juice to some seniors. After our second tour around the course, I direct Dane to a shady spot where he parks the cart. Until the traffic picks up, we won’t have much to do. I doodle on the inventory list as we sit in silence. Five minutes go by. Then ten.
“Okay,” he says and turns to face me. “What’s up?”
“What’s up with what?”
“What’s bothering you?”
I stare at him.
“It’s me, isn’t it?” he asks pointedly.
“Partly,” slips out of my mouth before I can stop it. I was
n’t expecting him to ask me that! I feel my face start to redden and quickly look away.
“At least you’re honest,” he says, somewhat surprised. “What exactly about me is bothering you?”
What can I say? It’s not really you; it’s my dead boyfriend’s jealousy of you?
“Spit it out, Emma.”
I really don’t want to have this conversation. I look at him, frustrated. “What do you want me to say?”
“Tell me what’s bothering you.”
I shake my head no. “I barely know you,” I snap.
He extends his hand to me, expecting a handshake. “I thought we did this already, but, hi, my name is Dane. Yours?”
I refuse to play along. I stare at his hand like it’s infected.
He looks at me like I’ve hit him. His eyes harden. He drops his hand and turns away.
My chest starts to constrict. I know I’m acting rude as a defense. If James is watching, I don’t want him to see me having a good time. The guilt of being here with Dane presses down on me because I know it hurts James, even though Dane has done nothing wrong. And now, on top of my miserable feelings about hurting James and dreaming about Dane, I can add my miserable feelings about being rude. How do I make things right?
Dane sits with his arms crossed, looking over the golf course. “Hey,” I say quietly, embarrassed.
No response.
“Um, I’m trying to apologize.”
Still nothing.
“Well, I’m sorry,” I whisper.
Dane’s mouth remains set, his face impassive, as if I’m not even there.
I don’t know if it’s the realization that I’ve truly pissed Dane off, my inability to assure James of my love for him, or my lack of sleep, but whatever the reason a sob rises in my chest and escapes me before I can do anything to catch it. I cover my face as tears pour down my cheeks and soak my hands.
“Emma!” Dane is immediately at my side. “Don’t cry!”
His plea makes me cry harder.
“I’m sorry! I’m not that mad, I promise!”
It is as if a damn has broken. I can’t speak, I can’t open my eyes. I can’t do anything but cry.
Dane grabs my wrists and gently tries to pull my hands from my face. “Emma, look at me.”
My hands are frozen and locked into place. They won’t budge with his gentle nudging. I am mortified by my behavior, and I have no energy to stop the tears.
“Please look at me?” he asks softly.
When I won’t move, I feel his arms wrap around me. He pulls me against his chest and tucks my head under his chin. I feel him slide us back to lean against the seat of the cart. My entire body tenses, and he can feel it.
“Relax,” he says against my hair. “Let it out.”
I continue to cry as he holds me, but for entirely different reasons now. What if James is watching? This is not what I wanted to happen! Why is my body so frozen that I can’t move to push him away? Why can’t I speak?
Why do these arms feel warm and safe?
The shock of my last thought cuts my sobbing off with a choke. I sit back rigidly, the feeling returning to my fingers and hands. I quickly pull them from my face and try to turn away from him, pushing against his shoulder and chest as hard as I can. “Let me go!” My voice sounds weak, garbled and stuck.
Dane’s arms stay locked around me. “It’s okay.”
“No! No, it’s not!”
He releases me and I shift as far away from him as possible. I wipe my eyes, silently praying for the tears to stop. When I think I have my emotions somewhat under control, I turn to face him. The look on his face is a mixture of concern and confusion.
“I’m…sorry,” I apologize. “I don’t know what happened.” My voice is shaky.
“Don’t worry about it. If you need a shoulder to cry on, I’m right here.”
I smile feebly at him, thankful that he is no longer upset with me. “Thanks, but I’ll be all right.”
“You’re sure?”
I nod.
Minutes pass. Finally he asks me, “How long has it been?”
“Since what?”
“Since you lost him.”
“Almost two months,” I whisper.
“And he’s all you think about?”
If he only knew. “Yes.”
Dane studies me for a moment, which makes me uncomfortable. “Close your eyes.”
“Why?”
“Just trust me.”
I shake my head no.
“Are you scared?” he teases.
I roll my eyes. “No, of course not.”
“Then do it.”
“Fine,” I huff and close my eyes. “Now what?”
Dane says nothing. After a moment, I feel his fingers wrap around my left hand. My eyes fly open, and I instinctively pull away.
Dane sighs heavily. “Close your eyes and give me your hand.”
“What are you doing?”
“Just do it! You are beyond frustrating today,” he complains. “I’m not going to touch anything but your hand. I promise.”
I eye him warily. Should I do this? What if James is watching? He hasn’t said anything so far. Maybe he wants to see what Dane is up to, so he can give me the ‘I told you so’ speech later. But what if he isn’t up to anything? Then that speech could be coming from me. I close my eyes and comply with his request.
Dane grasps my hand and laces his fingers through mine. “Sit back and relax,” he tells me. “Keep your eyes closed.”
I slide back against the seat and try to relax, but this is kind of odd. I feel Dane lean against the seat next to me, but the only thing he touches is my hand, just like he said.
We sit in silence. As the minutes pass, he starts to absentmindedly rub his thumb across mine. As much as I don’t want to admit it, it is comforting.
“Everything okay?” he asks.
I nod. “What are you doing?”
“Keep your eyes closed. Think of James. Use me.”
Chapter 19
James is late. Very late. Anxiety starts to bubble in my chest. The confidence I was feeling in proving that Dane is just a friend is beginning to wane; maybe James doesn’t see it that way.
If he saw it at all.
I haven’t heard from him once today, which is troubling. Usually, if he sees something he doesn’t like, he lets me know. Not that I’m naïve to think holding Dane’s hand wouldn’t set him off, but the end result was positive. Dane’s just trying to be a good friend to me.
It’s after midnight, and I’m starting to get restless. What if James is truly angry? Anxiety scoots over and gives guilt a seat in my heart. When I curl up in bed, I lie in the darkness, my mind creating a web of unpleasant scenarios. The more I think about it, the harder it is for me to breathe. I drift unwillingly in and out of sleep. The scenario I fear the most keeps haunting me.
The one where James decides never to return.
My shivering body wakes me. I reach to pull my comforter higher around my shoulders when my hand passes through noticeably cooler air behind me. My eyes snap open.
“James?” I whisper.
“Sorry I’m late.”
I quickly roll over and blindly throw my arms around his cool form.
“Um, you’re hugging my throat.”
“Sorry,” I release him. “I was so worried you weren’t coming. Hold on.”
I lean over to turn on the light. I need to see him. When I lie down to look at him, my heart plummets. He looks tired, worn, and sad. He looks broken. Instantly I curl myself against his stomach, and I feel his arms wrap around me. I’m scared to ask him what is wrong.
James’ voice cracks. “I can’t visit you for awhile.”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. My gut tells me this is all my fault. I’ve brought this on myself. “What can I do to make it right?”
“Nothing,” he responds flatly. “There’s nothing you can do.”
I stop breathing at the realization of his
anger. My worst fear is coming true. My mind scrambles to find the right words to change his mind; to make him stay.
“Please let me explain…” I choke. “Today was…I shouldn’t have….”
The chill intensifies under my chin and I instinctively know to raise my head. I look James in the eye as he searches my face. “Go on.”
I take a shaky breath. “I was trying to prove to you that Dane is only a friend, that he wants nothing more. He didn’t try anything. I knew you’d be watching, so I agreed so you would see…”
James’ face twists.
“He only held my hand, that was all. To be kind, to calm me after my crying fit, to let me pretend he was you…please…don’t leave me over this.”
His face falls. “He wants to pretend to be me?”
I realize how that must have sounded. “No, no, not like that. Just for that moment. Didn’t you see? Weren’t you watching?”
He closes his eyes as if he’s trying to erase what I’ve said. “No. I wasn’t watching.”
“Then why are you leaving me?”
He opens his eyes and looks deeply into mine. “Garrett is angry. I’ve been spending too much time here with you. That’s why I was late and that’s why I have to stay away for awhile.” He pauses. “And now, after what you’ve told me, I need to be here,” he growls.
“No, no you don’t. I mean, yes, you do. But you don’t have anything to worry about,” I say trying to reassure him. “I don’t want Garrett to get angrier with you; what if he decides you can’t visit me ever again?”
James sighs in frustration. “I don’t think he would do that.”
“Can you be sure?”
He shakes his head no.
I lean forward to hold my forehead against his and whisper, “I don’t want to take that risk.”
After a moment, James asks me quietly, “What were you thinking today, with Dane?”
I lift my head, so I can see his face. “All I could think about was you,” I tell him honestly. “I hate that you question yourself all the time. What can I do to make you realize you’re enough for me? I analyzed every one of my actions today, everything I said, because I want to prove myself to you. Prove that you’re wrong to feel threatened.”