He wants to change the subject.
I look down at my food. The idea of being like Carmen to him, brushed off and forgotten, makes me sad. “No harder than anywhere else I’ve lived. I did have to get used to the accents.”
“Tell me about it.” He chuckles. “When I first moved here I had a hard time. Layla’s accent is so minute I only heard it when she got mad.”
“Julian?”
“Yes?”
“I don’t want to be like Carmen. If I were, I’d be homeless. Bruce probably would have gotten me again. It’s because of you I can sleep at night. Because of you, I know what a real smile feels like. Being friends is going to torture me too.”
He reaches over and takes my hand, giving it a tight squeeze. “Maybe we can be friends only at school. I’m Mr. Ean there. When we’re home, I’m Julian.”
I turn my hand over and grip his wrist. We’re palm to palm. “I think I can handle that.”
“And if you can’t?”
“I’m used to not having what I want.” I take my hand back and smile sadly. “It’s an old game.”
That seems to make him sad too. He picks up his fork and shoves food into his mouth, eyes stormy.
I feel like I ruined dinner. No surprise there. I ruin everything.
“You mind if I excuse myself? I have papers to grade and notes to prepare for my conference coming up.”
I did ruin dinner. “What’s the conference about?”
He pushes away from the table. “Technology in the classroom. It is a technological world, you know. They asked me to speak.”
“Not really. I barely got a cellphone.”
He smiles and stands up. “I’ll be in my office. It’s right off the living room if you need me.” He bends to press a kiss to the top of my head before taking off.
I grab a piece of meat and shove it into my mouth. Way to go. When I hear his office door close somewhere down the hall, I finish eating by myself, putting as much food into my body as it can hold. I feel empty. Food is all I have to stuff myself with. I make good use of the spread he left me.
This’s how it must be. There are no options right now. We can make some, but I fear those options will sabotage us both. We’re perilously balancing between right and wrong as it is. One unsure choice on either side and we’ll lose no matter what.
I can’t keep losing. My losses are starting to pile up.
I clear the table, putting the leftovers in the fridge and wiping down. Before I go upstairs, I pour myself a cold cup of black coffee and return to my textbooks. I’m deep into my work when I hear Julian’s feet on the stairs. I expect him to come into my room.
I wait, staring at the door. But he doesn’t come in. A moment later I hear his bedroom door close. I attempt not to get depressed, this keeps us between right and wrong, but I am depressed despite my best efforts.
Before bed, I shower, putting good use to my new soaps and razors. I dry my hair with my towel and comb it out so it won’t look like a red nest in the morning. Sleeping should come easy. No one’s fighting down the hall. There are no threats. But I toss and turn all night anyway, sleeping somewhere in-between my troubles. How can Julian and I be acquaintances when I listen to him down the hall, waiting for a noise, any sign that he’s still here?
In the morning, I awake to the alarm on my cell. I’m groggy and grumpy as I turn it off and start gathering everything into my backpack from doing my homework the night before. I miss my parka as I dress. Sensing that I’ll need to hide, I won’t have the option. Once I’m dressed, I grab my things and bring them downstairs.
I start the coffee—I’ll need it this morning—expecting Julian will as well. But I’ve eaten breakfast and had my coffee before I realize he might not be expecting me.
His car’s gone when I check out the front window. Disappointment settles in my belly.
This is how it’s supposed to be.
My drive to school feels uncomfortable, more ominous than usual. But when I get there, I’m as invisible as any other day. I feel something in the air. A shift that didn’t exist last week. The entire day goes eerily smooth. No one looks at me. My locker is clear after class, and Brady is absent in calculus. Even my spot is free. I sit alone during lunch, hunching in on myself. A loneliness I’m used to returns, flourishing now that Julian has done what I asked him to do.
I don’t go to his class after school, and instead do my homework in my car at work. My shift at Bella’s is also seamless. I wonder why I feel so off-balance, why this ease feels more like the calm before the storm. When my night is over, I deposit my tips at the bank and then take a deep breath, preparing myself for what I’m coming home to.
Julian’s car’s in the driveway. My stomach coils in longing at the sight of it. I enter the house slowly, waiting for him to tell me I blew it. Instead, he’s sitting in the living room, papers strewn over the coffee table, a baseball game on TV. A lone beer sits in the middle of the chaos.
He looks up when I come in and smiles genially. Emptily.
“Hey,” he murmurs.
The sound of his voice makes tears prick my eyes. It’s in seconds I realize how deep I’m in. How intensely I desire him the moment I look into his empty eyes. “Hey.”
“How was school?”
I pretend he asks this instead: “How was your day without me?” “Pointless.”
His eyes sadden, but he looks away at the last minute. “I’ll order in for dinner.”
“No. I ate a work,” I lie, too empty to eat. “I’ve got a lot of homework. I’ll probably just go to bed when I’m done.” What is one more lie in the middle of so many?
“I’m swamped too,” he starts to say, but I leave before he can finish, because his emptiness is too painful.
The moment I’m alone in my room, I succumb. I ignore my tears, ripping my uniform off and exchanging it for pajamas. I fall on my bed and bury my face in my pillow. If I was still in Bruce’s place, the emptiness would be easier to accept. In that house, it belongs. In this house, it doesn’t.
I try and forget Julian. His presence is new. It shouldn’t be so hard to pretend I can’t feel him from all the way downstairs. That the sound of his closing bedroom door that night doesn’t hurt me.
Sleeping is painful. I wake to my alarm with a growl. I toss my covers aside and don’t remember I’m alone again until I hear movement downstairs. I peek over the railing to find Julian preparing to leave. He has a thermos in his hand and his bag over his shoulder; the smell of coffee is thick in the house. He slips out the front door as I watch pathetically from my perch.
Forget him, I order harshly. Move on!
I’ve done it before. I can do it again.
I dress, eat, and gather my things, doing it all with a forcefulness I do not feel. But things still feel off at school. Brady and Nessa are still gone. My spot is still empty. I even hang back by my locker after school, waiting for a glimpse of him, but Mr. Ean isn’t there. His door is open; if I want I could walk by and get a look, but that would only make me want to go inside, to touch him, to feel what I can’t have.
I don’t acknowledge my landlord whatsoever that night. Even though he’s coming out of the kitchen as I’m walking past the hall. I stare straight, doing what I’m supposed to do, cutting off his, “Hey, Kae—” in the middle.
Inside, I am near my breaking point. The cracks in my universe are slowly spreading, overtaking my heart and brain. The scales are tipping, and I have no idea what the unbalance means.
By day three I’m finding it hard to breathe. I go downstairs that morning, half-asleep and unthinking. Julian’s in the middle of eating cereal. I pause and stare, in his presence for the first time in days; I soak him up like a fiend.
Those gray eyes meet mine. I swear his pupils dilate.
“Morning.”
I nod wordlessly at his greeting and swallow hard. My heart is hammering. My legs are weak. I am staring into the eyes of the storm and I want it to swallow me.
“I made coffee.” He raises his eyebrows. “Stop looking at me like that, or I’ll break the rules.”
“I don’t like the rules,” I blurt. “I can’t stand the rules.” Tears spring in my eyes. “No more rules.”
“Kael,” he groans, his voice breaking, his feelings shining through. The steel melts to silver. “You were right. This is how it has to be. You know why?”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t stand the rules either. I want to get up right now and take those soft pink lips. I want you so damn bad it’s killing me. That’s why we need those rules. Drink your coffee. Go to school. Keep pretending. That’s what’s best for you.”
My breath leaves me. “Take my lips. You can have them.”
He pushes to his feet. He’s wearing black jeans. Coupled with a crisp white shirt and a dark blue blazer, he looks unbearably beautiful. Like a teacher. Like someone I can’t have.
“Leave.”
“Like you’ve been doing?”
Pain fills his eyes. “You wanted it this way.”
I step away. “I have to go.”
“Kaelyn!”
I leave him behind, the way I’ve left all the others.
The way all others have left me.
Chapter Seven
I don’t even realize I drive past the school until I end up at the peach grove. I park at the end of the path, staring at the rows and rows of fruit.
They’re large and ripe, hanging from the green leaves like bulbous orange ornaments. I rarely had Christmas trees growing up, but the Gibson’s had one my first year with them, and Haddie had a few. A fake tree with broken lights and cracked bulbs. There were never any presents beneath it, but sometimes I would lie under the tree, staring up at the lights as my body, my heart, my insides, yearned for something I knew I would never have.
I curl into a ball and stare at the peaches. They saw the end of Brady and I. Witnessed my body being used by the man I thought I loved. I could smell them through my window, their sweet aroma reminding me of him thrusting unemotionally between my legs.
The sun sets slowly, turning the peaches into bright orbs nestled inside of dark leaves. Why hasn’t anyone picked them? Why have they left the peaches to rot?
Are they unwanted too? They look fine to me. Beautiful. Soft. They smell delicious too. What about these peaches are undesirable? Maybe nothing is. Maybe the few who’ve passed them by didn’t notice them at all.
I get out of my PT and run over, plucking the largest one from a tree. I bite into the furry skin and the sweet taste fills my mouth. I scarf that peach down, swallowing it so its purpose doesn’t fade. Inside of me, it means something.
The setting sun watches me. It trails me back to my car, the smell of peaches all around me, reminding me that I am no different than the rotting ones who didn’t make it.
My shift at Bella’s starts with an easy bang. Tamryn’s off. I glide unbothered onto the floor. I do my job, wanted for a few hours, before returning to my new home. The smell of pizza hits me immediately. I’m reminded I didn’t eat anything other than a peach. I follow the smell, caught in a web of cheese and sauce.
Julian’s standing at the counter, mouth open as he crams pizza into it. When he spots me, he pauses, eyes churning.
“What’s the rule on sharing pizza with your landlord?”
“There are none.” He slides the box toward me. “Did you eat all day?”
I shake my head and grab a slice, forgoing manners in exchange for food. I take a bite and moan deeply, closing my eyes in bliss. It erases the taste of peaches, replacing it with melted cheese and salty spicy pepperoni. Tears spring to my eyes, because this is what Julian does for me. In a second, I have forgotten my loneliness.
His arms come around me. I fight him, but it’s useless; I want to be here. My pizza hits the floor. My heart lurches in my chest. I wrap my arms around him too, holding him together the way I need to be held.
“Is this killing you too?”
“It’s ripping me apart.” I pull back to look at him, blinking the burn in my eyes away. “I don’t want the rules anymore. I want the truth. I love the truth when it comes to you too.”
He moves to cup my face, his eyes glimmering. “I tried. I tried, remember that.”
And then he crushes his lips down on mine.
And I am breathing. I am existing for a moment where I feel everything I’ve ever wanted.
His lips are supple and warm, melting against me like soft heat. I moan into his mouth, succumbing to him the way I never have anyone. He groans too, moaning from his chest. He tastes like oregano, like sauce and pizza, like the best damn tasting thing in the world.
I run my hands over his back, digging my fingers into him, holding on tight when I feel him pull away.
He tears his lips free and presses his forehead against mine. His breath dries my lips as I try to regain mine. “I tried.”
“Me too.” I tried to be his friend, his tenant. I failed.
I can’t stand it any longer. Maybe it was the kiss, how the taste of him still lingers, or the pain in his eyes, but I feel my eyes burst, and my tears return.
I know I can’t have this.
I know it.
When he comes for me again, I shake my head. I’m so confused. I want this. Him. But I don’t want him to suffer for my stupid want. My wants are stupid. I step away from him and attempt to breathe.
“I’ll eat in the living room?” It sounds like a question.
“And I’ll eat in my room?” It sounds like a question from my end as well.
“And we won’t do what we want, will we, Kael? We won’t take our clothes off and make up for every second we were apart?”
“No.”
“Because we tried.”
“We tried.” I close my eyes until he’s gone. On shaky limbs, I clean up the mess I made on the floor, and then make a plate of pizza and take it upstairs. I eat, I remember, but most of all, I wait, because we unleashed something in that kitchen tonight. I can feel it between my legs. It makes my panties damp and my core ache, wanting the man I can feel downstairs.
Sleeping that night is futile. I don’t even try. Instead, I think of the taste of his lips, the feel of them, the way I felt in his arms—I replay these things until I’m lost in them.
When my alarm goes off, I have slept between my daydreams, never touching the night.
I groggily rise from my blankets, grab my towel, and stand beneath the spray of the shower, letting the hot water wake me from my slumber. I dress without watching, leave my hair damp, and force myself down the stairs.
I’m alone, but I can hear him upstairs, so I stave off the cracks. I switch on the coffee pot and watch it drip.
I hear his feet on the stairs, on the wooden floors. And then he’s in the kitchen. I look at him immediately, biting my lip.
He runs a hand through his styled hair. “Did you sleep as well as me?” He smiles wanly.
“Can you tell I had trouble sleeping?” I move for the coffee pot. He looks so handsome standing there, wearing those damn dark blue slacks. I focus on not spilling coffee all over his counter.
“You’re still beautiful,” he assures me, cringing. “Sorry. I’ve got to stop that.”
I bite my lip harder and grab the sugar off the counter. “Thank you.”
“Oh, now you take a compliment?” He grabs his mug and winks. “Thanks for the coffee.”
I grab my own and take a sip. “You’re welcome.”
There’s tension between us. It’s making my throat dry and his eyes low. It’s electric.
“I mean it. You’re beautiful this morning. Sleepy eyes and all.” He leans his hip against the counter and drinks his coffee.
I want to mention his dark blue pants but don’t. “You’re especially handsome too. You think it might be because we’re not allowed to feel that way?”
He licks coffee off his bottom lip. “It’s a good thing I ran this morning and got rid of a lot of my restles
s energy. Or I might just pin you against the counter and show you how beautiful you are.”
My body heat skyrockets. “You ran?”
“I run on the weekdays.”
“That sounds dreadful.”
He laughs quietly, eyes on my mouth. “Kaelyn?”
“Mhm?”
“Tell me to leave.”
I lick my lips and he groans. “Aren’t you going to eat something?”
“I already did when I got back.” He takes a step toward me.
I stay right where I am. The lion is stalking me. I want to be caught. “I’ve never been pinned against a counter before.”
He sets his cup down and touches my hips with both hands, looking down at me with desire in his eyes. He urges me back until my ass hits the counter. I hold my coffee mug between us. “I’d probably have to lift you up to reach your mouth. Because right now, Kael, I want your mouth.”
I rise on my tiptoes, but it makes little difference to his towering height. “Lift me up.”
He takes my coffee cup and sets it down. His hands slide down my hips to the backs of my thighs. Effortlessly, Julian lifts me until I’m sitting on the counter. Our mouths are dangerously closer. He parts my legs and nestles between them, his eyes storming. I wait for the thunder, for it to match the roaring of my pulse.
He grabs my chin, storm warning. “If I kiss you, I won’t be able to stop this time. I’ve been thinking about your lips all night, the way they tasted, the way they felt. I won’t stop, Kaelyn.”
I wrap my hands around his shoulders, pulling him closer. “I don’t want you to stop.”
He leans in and kisses my chin. “I mean it. Your clothes are coming off and I’m making good use of this counter top.”
I moan out loud, digging my nails into his shoulder blades as excitement ripples through me. “Kiss me, Julian.” I sound breathless and desperate.
Alive and in the moment like I’ve never been.
With the hand still on my hip, he urges me closer to him. Our middles connect, and I explode. The connection ruins me. I buck against him and force his mouth down on me. But he turns his head to the side just in time. I get his temple. I’ll take his temple. I move against him, feeling the mound of his erection through my jeans. He groans low in his chest and kisses my throat. The feel of him is shocking and enticing. His erection is thick and warm between my legs, pressing into me just right. He feels so good I grind against him again, earning another deep moan of pleasure from his chest.
Under The Peaches (Teaching Love Series Book 1) Page 16