by C. L. Stone
If she didn’t do this, she’d be saddled with debt she had no hope of paying off.
There was state assistance.
No. Every impulse inside her fought against the idea. She’d make her own way, even if she had to compromise herself to do it.
It’s only my mind. I’m strong. I can do this. On the heels of her thought came a question: should I lie?
No. She wouldn’t lie. She’d explain to the guys. They had to understand. There was no other choice.
12
Honesty
When she closed the door quietly behind her, Nora realized she was trying to sneak into the house. If no one noticed her, she wouldn’t have to tell them what happened. She wouldn’t have to explain how she’d failed to find a job, and how she was going to stay in Dr. Murray’s study.
“Any luck?” Cai came down the stairs, his strong, golden hands gripping the bannister. The muscles in his arms flexed and contracted as he moved.
She shook her head. “Cai. It’s not going to happen.”
He reached for her and she went into his arms. He stood a step above her, holding her close and making her feel perfectly safe. His heart beat steadily, and his voice vibrated through his body. “How many interviews have you had?”
“Three.” She swallowed. “Four if you count going back to the deli and begging for my old job back. They all have the same answer.”
“The shooting.”
“I can’t be around families, children. It doesn’t matter what the papers say, what the police say. The idea is out there. It’s the only thing people think when they see me.”
He squeezed her harder and she pulled her arms between them, wrapping her fists in his shirt. Wiping angry tears against the back of her hands, she took a shuddering breath. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.” His voice was fierce. “It’s unnecessary.”
“No go?” Apollo asked quietly.
Nora shook her head, turning around. Apollo reached for her, but then clenched his hands, letting them fall to his sides. Cai gave her a small push toward him and he caught her up. “You don’t need a job, baby. I’ll take care of you. I promise.”
She tilted her head back, craning her neck so she could see him. “I don’t want you to take care of me, Apollo. Not this way.”
“But it’s the way it needs to be right now.”
Afraid the next thing she said would send him spinning away from her, she held him tight. “I could go back. I wonder if I should go back to the study, Apollo. I… I really think I should.”
Like she expected, he stepped away from her, but she pulled him back. Pressing his lips together tightly, he gave a quick shake of his head. “Not safe. Nora. It’s not safe.”
Cai stepped down the stairs, putting his hand on Apollo’s shoulder, not to keep him in place, but to offer support.
“Let me go, Nora.” His body trembled.
She did immediately, stepping back. His hand went to the back of his head, rubbing the short hair back and forth and then he dropped it, clenching it into a fist next to his leg.
Then he moved fast, wrapping a large hand around her waist, and squeezing. Not hard enough to bruise, but enough to zing the new injury and nearly healed wounds on her side. She sucked in a breath, body turning automatically, trying to get away from him.
His eyes stayed fixed on hers. “You want to go back to that. Knowing he’ll hurt you. What is the saying, ‘it is easier to seek forgiveness than permission?’”
Slowly, his grip loosened and he stroked the place he squeezed, easing the ache. “How can I let you go each day, knowing he could do this again?”
“I would worry about you, too,” she countered. “If I knew you were doing something dangerous, something that could hurt you. I don’t know how I’d deal with it, but if it was what you had to do, what you wanted to do, I would.”
His pupils flared and he glanced at Cai. There was some emotion on his face she didn’t understand, and when she glanced back at Apollo, it was in time to see him give a small shake of his head.
I guess I’m not the only one hiding something. Whatever it was, Apollo wasn't ready to share it with her.
But Cai knew; he was in on the secret.
There was still so much the guys hadn't revealed. Her life was splashed across headlines. She didn’t have the option of hiding and letting her true self emerge over time.
Their relationship formed fast. They hadn’t gone on dates. She’d never worn make-up, and made sure she’d shaved her legs. She never had the option of making a spectacular first impression. The guys saw her at her most vulnerable, her ugliest, her lowest. And somehow decided they wanted her.
So this was her. This was her being lost and angry and with zero options. The question was, would they still want her this way?
“Do you still want me?” She asked it, even though she was afraid of the answer, not knowing what she’d do if they said no. “Do you want me even though I’m going to do this?”
“I want you,” Cai answered. Taking his hand in hers, she held it against her face. She kissed his palm while waiting for Apollo who’d closed his eyes.
“You need to do this?”
Apollo opened his eyes, looking past her. Ryan crossed his arms, green eyes flashing and jaw tight. Seok and Matisse were with him.
Slowly, Seok pulled the kerchief off his head, running his fingers through his hair. Matisse’s face had none of the cheekiness it usually held; all of them were studies in unsmiling solemnity.
“Do you?” Ryan stepped closer, pushing the words out. “Do you need to do this?”
His words held a weight that demanded she think carefully answering. Did she need to work with Dr. Murray? What option did she have?
Live off the guys? No. They have bills, tuition, jobs. They can’t support me.
Get a job? No one will hire me, not now. Not here.
Leave to find a job? Leave them. Her heart rejected the idea. They were the only bright spot in her life. Their relationship was new and fragile, but it was the realest, most important thing she’d ever experienced. She wouldn’t leave them, couldn’t leave them.
Work with Dr. Murray? It only means more debt. But it also means more options down the road. The degree I need. The money we all need. Time with them. The ability to stay and love them.
There’s my answer.
Her body tensed as if readying for an injury, and she nodded. “I need to do this.”
A muscle twitched in Ryan's jaw, reminding her of Cai. Matisse’s crossed arms dropped to his sides, and behind her, Apollo let out a breath. Seok’s hand dug back into his hair. All the while, Cai’s hand stayed steady on her waist.
“Yes. I’m sorry. I need to do this.”
Her brain suddenly played a reel of what she should expect. Ryan would point to the door and one by one, the guys would say goodbye to her.
It didn’t happen.
Ryan nodded, a mere dip of his chin which somehow strained every muscle in his body. “All right, Nora. If you need to do this, we’re with you.”
The scene she’d expected was so clear in her mind his words took a moment to process. Her knees wobbled, and she had to lock them to stay upright.
“You are?” Her voice caught and Cai’s hand wrapped around her waist, drawing her back against his strong chest, holding her upright.
Each of them met her stare, and nodded. She turned, Cai maintaining his hold on her waist, until she could look up at Apollo.
His face was pale, the skin drawn tight against the bones. His hands dragged down the sides of his face. “Okay, Nora,” he whispered. “Okay.”
When she thought he might run away, he stepped toward her. Squeezing her once, Cai released her into his arms. He dropped his face into the crook of her neck, lips tracing her shoulder. “I’m with you.”
13
Bliss
Nora spent a quiet evening with the guys. She found herself passed from one to the other, often held tight until she was
released directly into the arms of the next person.
She’d expected them to want space from her, to be angry and annoyed. The decision she made was in direct opposition to their logical reasoning. It should have made them push her away, but instead they wanted her closer.
How could they be so forgiving and supportive? Would she ever stop waiting for them to tell her, “You know what? This was crazy and not at all worth it.”
Nora rested her head on Seok’s shoulder, blinking sleepily. She wasn’t going to enlighten them on the ways they could do better.
“Your head feels heavy.”
“Sorry.” She jerked away.
“I think it’s because all your thoughts are weighing you down.”
She snorted, leaning on him again.
“Do you think you’re the first of us to do something the rest don’t like?”
“Really?” she asked, having a hard time believing they were anything but perfect.
“Of course.” Matisse nodded from his seat across from her. “All the time. I don’t like what you’ve decided any more for understanding it, though.”
“I know,” she answered, blushing.
Seok kissed the side of her head and pulled her tighter against him. Closing her eyes, she let the boys’ voices drift in and out of her awareness. She picked up threads of conversation, and let them go. With her body lax and warm, and Seok’s scent surrounding her, it was easy to fall asleep.
When she opened her eyes again, she was in her bedroom. The room was dark, but she was snug and comfortable, nestled beneath a comforter. A soft puff of air pushed her hair into her face and she turned.
Seok slept next to her. He had a small pucker between his eyes, not unlike Ryan when he worried. She reached out, smoothing the lines away with her thumb. Letting out a huff of air, he turned onto his back. Propping herself on her elbow, she watched him sleep.
Like a creeper, her mind supplied.
Shut up, she told herself. It isn’t creeping when he’s your boyfriend.
A smile split her face. It was the first time she really thought about him that way. Her boyfriend.
She mouthed the words, “My boyfriend, Seok Jheon.” His last name made her lips tingle and she said it again, “Jheon.”
As if he heard her, he opened his eyes, blinking up at her in confusion. Pushing his sleep mussed hair out of his eyes, he reached for her shoulders and pulled her into his body.
“Sleep.” His voice was deep and rough.
“Sorry,” she whispered against his chest. His naked chest.
She kissed him gently, and his skin pebbled beneath her lips. Edging closer, she skimmed her hand across his skin, watching him shiver.
His fingers played with her hair, threading through the strands. Her body hummed, but in the dim light, eyes half closed, he seemed to need sleep.
“Aren’t you tired” she asked.
In response, he fisted her hair at the nape of her neck, pulling gently against the back of her head.
“No.” He shook his head, bringing her face closer and closer until he could capture her lips. Moving quickly, he grabbed her, dragging her so she straddled him.
“I’m very much awake right now. His hips flexed, erection rubbing between her legs.
Head falling back, she rose and fell with each push of his hips into hers. His hands went to her sides, skating her t-shirt up and over her head.
“I love the way you feel under my hands.”
She loved having his hands on her. His palms were rough, fingers calloused, but when they moved along her skin, they created a delicious friction that went right to her core. “Don’t stop.”
He pressed a little harder into her back, raking his fingers along her spine. “Don’t stop this, nae sereang?”
She melted a little at Seok’s endearment. “Yes.”
His fingers stopped, the beautiful pressure halting. “Stop?”
Amusement laced his voice. But she could play the game, too. She reached between their bodies, fingertips delving beneath the loose elastic band of his boxer shorts until her palm cupped the smooth head of his erection. She didn’t grasp him, merely ran her hand back and forth across the tip. Slowly, her fingers curled beneath the mushroomed head, tracing and curling, rubbing and teasing.
All the time, she kept her eyes open, watching his face. She noticed the way his pupils dilated when her finger pressed against the damp slit, and the way he bit his lip when she finally wrapped her hand around his length and smoothed it down his shaft.
His body moved against hers. She couldn’t get the friction she needed, but for some reason, watching his face turned her on almost as much as having his hand, or his mouth, on her body. She twisted, firm but gentle, as she pumped him. He made a noise then, and his teeth sunk harder into his lip. Tugging it free, she licked it with the tip of her tongue.
When he dove for her mouth, she pulled back. “I want to see your face…”
He groaned, and minutely, she tightened her grip, thumb sweeping over his tip, scooping up some of the dampness to help her hand glide along his sensitive skin. Two spots of red appeared on his cheekbones, blooming outward. Head falling back, his strong throat moved as he swallowed and groaned.
Leaning forward, she kissed the base of his throat, all the while maintaining her rhythm. “Come on, Seok,” she whispered, smiling against his skin. She didn’t know where her confidence came from.
Early in their acquaintance, he flashed hot and cold. The same reaction, from one day to the next, could annoy him or amuse him.
But here, now, watching every unguarded emotion flash across his face, she was fearless. Any touch, any pressure which pleasured him she committed to her memory. She wanted to remember how he gasped when she smoothed her palm over his tip, and groaned when she pumped and twisted her hand.
Yanking her face to his, he devoured her mouth. She increased her speed, loving the way his tongue tripped over hers, and how he mashed their lips together.
She did this to him.
She made him lose sense of everything except feeling good.
She pushed down on him, at the same time lifting herself onto her knees and pressing her bare breasts against his chest. He groaned again, this time jerking and thrusting into her hand. Slowly, she loosened her grip, barely making contact with his skin as he came down from his orgasm. When he did, he took control of their kiss again. His hands going to her neck, tilting her head. His tongue dipped into her mouth while one hand dropped to her back. With a move that left her dizzy, he spun them both until he could settle over her.
Drawing his nose along her neck and back up to her ear, he chuckled. “My turn.”
14
Interview
“I’m so glad you changed your mind, Nora.” Dr. Murray smiled at her, clicking the top of his pen and leaning his elbows on his knees.
He is the definition of interested. With his head canted to one side, his glasses in one hand, the pen in the other, he made the picture of a sensitive doctor.
“Thank you for your assignment.” He leaned back, waving the paper she’d handed him when she first arrived. “I’ll look at it later and formulate questions for our next session. Today, we’ll be completing two tests. For the first, I’ll be reading you a series of statements. I would ask you answer: agree, disagree, strongly agree, strongly disagree, or are neutral.”
Interlacing her fingers tightly, she nodded.
“Ready?”
“Yes.”
“It is more important to get along with others than to be right,” he began.
“Agree.”
He made a notation, and went on. The questions were varied. They went from how she felt in social situations, “You do not usually initiate conversations,” to her work ethic, “You respond to emails immediately. You cannot stand a messy inbox.”
She answered honestly, at times saying, “Neutral,” if none of the statements struck her as something she cared about.
“You rarely do so
mething out of sheer curiosity.”
“Strongly agree,” she answered, lifting her thumb to her lips.
“You feel superior to other people.”
“Strongly disagree.” She nibbled away the tiny hangnail.
It didn’t take him long to finish. “You’re decisive,” he remarked, putting aside the test and folding his hands together.
“I suppose so. What did it tell you?”
“I have to score it. It will give me a description of your personality. Sort of a summary of traits. Extrovert/introvert. Intuitive/observant. Thinking/feeling, etc.”
“You mean, am I an introvert or an extrovert? Do I make a decision based on my feelings or my observations?”
“Essentially,” he answered.
“Will you tell me?”
“If you’d like.” He stood, crossing over to his desk.
Today, they were in the basement of Converse Hall. The walls were bright white, and his voice echoed off the cinderblocks. It hurt her eyes to look around, so she tried to look only at Dr. Murray or her hands. Behind him was a two-way mirror, where she suspected his teammates, Nils, Jessica, and Grant, were watching.
“Is your team watching?”
“Some.” He took a stack of cards off his desk, glancing quickly over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow. “Does it bother you?”
“Would it matter if it did?”
“Of course it matters, Nora. For this session, I could make a video tape for them to view later if you objected strongly to their presence.” He stared for a moment. “Do you?”
Eventually, she shook her head. “No. It doesn’t bother me when they observe.”
“But it will bother you when they participate.”
“I don’t know yet. I don’t…” She stopped herself.
He sat, tapping the collection of cards on his leg. “Don’t trust us?”
Blushing, she examined the room rather than answer. She wanted to lie, or paint herself unaffected by his team, but they did bother her, and she didn’t trust them. She didn’t know the reasons they did the things they did, every move they made was suspicious.