Forever & More: The Friend Zone series

by Thompson, Tabetha

  How can I hate him for all he’s done one minute, but in the next, love him for all he was? This grey area in between right and wrong, love and hate, has me trapped, making me feel as if I’m in purgatory.

  I don’t want to feel the remorse that pulls me under until I’m drowning in the turbulent sea of my emotions. I don’t want to continuously suffer through the ache of losing a lifelong friend, one of the only people who has ever mattered to me. I don’t want to believe that Tom, my best friend, my brother, was capable of doing the things he’s done. What he did is unforgivable, so why do I so desperately want to?

  He’ll have to pay for his sins. I wish I could just figure out where my head is, what I have to do to get to the point where I can move on and live my life without this dark cloud hanging over me. The tiny droplets that I’ve been fighting to hold back spill over, one by one, following along their familiar trails down my cheeks.

  To top everything off with a nice, pink bow, I feel as if I am committing treason to my friendship with Sara for harboring even an ounce of grief for losing Tom. My feet move slowly as I step in place behind her wheelchair. I grip the handles tightly while I wait patiently for her to unlock the wheels. She looks back at me, a soft, barely big enough to be seen, smile graces her lips. It’s a smile meant to portray sympathy, but I don’t see it as that, I see it as pity. I don’t want her pity; I don’t want anything from anyone but me. And the one thing I want from myself, I’m never going to get, inner peace.

  The farther we walk away from Tom’s resting place, the easier it gets to breathe. I’m not sure if I’m able to breathe better because I’m walking away from Tom, or moving closer to Skye. He has that effect on me more so now than before. Most of the time when he’s gone, I’m suffocating, but the moment he walks into the room, the air returns to my lungs. There have been times when he’s been the one stripping me of my oxygen, but that’s only because he’s trying to protect me from myself. I understand that, doesn’t mean that I have to like it, though.

  “Chloe? Can I ask you something?” Sara states carefully.

  “You know you can.”

  When I lift my eyes from the sidewalk, they immediately land on the Skye. My heart skips a beat, my steps falter. His dark hair glistens in the sunlight, making it look as slick and as black as oil. His full lips pull up on the corners into a wide smile, and I offer a smaller one in return.

  Sara’s voice breaks through my thoughts. “If Tom was still here, do you think you could forgive him?”

  I stop dead in my tracks. I’ve asked myself this same question a million times already. Could I? Would I? Would he ask for my forgiveness or just walk away? I would like to think that I could forgive him in time, but I just don’t know. Too much has happened and the wounds are still so fresh they’re barely scabbed over.

  I realize Sara’s waiting for my response. “I don’t know. I would like to think I would,” I answer honestly. I want so desperately for my statement to be true, but in this moment it's not. She nods her head and my feet begin to move again.

  Before we reach the car, Harley is at Sara’s side, scooping her into his arms. She releases a yelp, followed by a carefree laugh. She wraps her arms around him and buries her face into his neck. Jealousy eats away at what’s left of me.

  Since Sara’s wreck, Harley has become a constant figure in her life. Every time she looks at him, her face lights up, her smile widens, and she wears the goofy love struck expression like a badge of honor.

  I miss that all-consuming feeling of loving someone so much it hurts, being able to express my feelings without fear of repercussion. Most importantly, I wish I could allow myself to commit to someone completely without apprehension. I would love to be able to trust those closest to me again.

  Once I learned about Tom and his treachery, the walls around my heart were instantly resurrected. My love for Skye is still there, still overwhelming almost every thought in my mind. Dominating every emotion in my body, but my love for him is now tainted by someone else’s misguided actions.

  Skye has proven to be everything I’ve ever wanted and more. But, I can’t shake that little voice in my head that keeps screaming at me to be careful and to hold him at arm’s length. To never turn my back to him so he doesn’t have the opportunity to stab me in it.

  Skye’s been at my side ever since my accident, but things have been strained since we left the hospital. I think he senses my inner turmoil because he’s been acting so different toward me. Treating me as if I’m a wounded animal that may attack at any moment, and I don’t blame him since that’s exactly how I feel.

  I’ve been walking on the razor’s edge just waiting for the moment I may fall, or cut myself. I know it’s only a matter of time before the frayed rope I have been so desperately clinging to slips from my grasp and I free fall into the dark nothing of raw emotions that is waiting to swallow me.

  Skye cautiously approaches me seconds after Harley and Sara walk off. He wraps his thick, muscular arm around my waist, pulling me close to his side. His body presses tightly against mine and I flinch. It wasn’t intentional, but it’s the first reaction I have when someone touches me now. I would give anything to melt into his embrace as I once had.

  His body tenses for a moment before he leans his head toward mine. Minty breath fans my neck and ear as he speaks. “Everything okay, baby?” Chills break out over my skin, causing me to shudder.

  My lips graze his when I turn my head to face him. I glance up into his deep pools of emerald green and nod. He raises an eyebrow, wordlessly acknowledging my lie, challenging, no, begging me to open up to him and share how I’m actually feeling inside. That’s a challenge I’m not willing to accept right now. I watch with intrigue as heartbreak flashes in his eyes for a moment before he pulls himself back together, masking his emotions.

  The engine on Skye’s Jeep roars to life; it startles me. I glance up and spot Sara in the passenger seat and Harley behind the wheel.

  “Y’all coming?” Harley yells across Sara.

  “Hold the hell on. We’re coming,” Skye tosses back.

  “Well, shit, hurry the fuck up. You’re moving at the speed of smell.”

  A chuckle escapes my lips, leaving a bitter taste on my tongue. Skye’s grip tightens around me, squeezing me one last time before letting me go.

  We cross the short distance between the Jeep and ourselves in an unhurried pace. I climb in the back seat and scoot all the way over to the other side of the cab as Skye climbs in behind me. Sara looks back at me, annoyance plastered all over her face. I raise my eyebrows in question, but she ignores me and turns back around.

  I look over at Skye, offering a tight-lipped smile. I’m more than a little hurt when I get the same tight-lipped smile in return.

  To distract me from the heavy tension in the car, I pull out my phone and open my Kindle app. I lose myself in my newest read. It’s about a woman who is so traumatized by life and things around her that she loses control of herself. She sets out on a path of self-destructive behavior that almost gets her killed. While on this journey, a man notices her and her bad behavior and he begins to become obsessed with the wild beauty. Once he reels her in, he senses her dark thoughts and it becomes his mission to bring her back in the light. He introduces her into his world, where pain equals control and empowering pleasure. She finds that his brand of kink is just what she needs to center herself, to become whole again.

  I’m so drawn to this raven-haired girl and her tormented soul. There are books you read that you like and there are those that you love, and then there are others that crawl into your soul. They suck you into their world of make believe and turn the reality of your world to fiction. That’s what this book is for me. My reality is so ugly that I’ve lost myself between the pages and made them my reality, this is now my world.

  I glance over at Skye and see his gaze trained on me. His coal colored hair gently rustles from the wind blowing around us. A generic ringtone chimes through the wind in the cab
. Skye reaches into his pocket, pulls his phone out, glances quickly at the screen, and then silences the screaming device. The hairs on my neck start prickling with unease.

  Why didn’t he answer the phone? Who was it? Was it another girl?

  I hate how my mind immediately assumes the worst of every situation. The fact that I even doubt Skye makes me sick to my stomach. I prop my head against the door and close my eyes. As the wind tosses my hair into my face, I think about how nice it would be if all my problems and insecurities would fly out the window and ride off on the wind so I could be happy again. I would give anything to be able to genuinely smile, to not feel like the weight of the world is sitting on my chest, to be free of all these insecurities and fears.

  “Hey, you all right?” Sara’s question has me opening my eyes. My eyes reach hers and I realize she is speaking to me, I nod quickly. Skye reaches for my hand and I allow it without flinching this time. A small sigh of relief leaves his lips.

  The cemetery where Tom’s buried is outside of town in a small church graveyard where his father was laid to rest. It’s a forty-five minute drive from my apartment and we’re almost halfway through our journey. As the fields pass by, I think about what it would be like to just lose myself in the tall grass and woods. How liberated I would feel if I were to just wander around with nothing to do, no one to suffocate me, no nightmares taunting me. The idea is so tempting that I almost tell Harley to pull over and let me out, but I know that with Sara and Skye around, that would never happen.

  I continue to read the rest of our journey home. As my eyes soak up the words of desperation, lust, and pleasured pain on the screen, I exchange myself with the images I’ve conjured of Amelia, the girl in the book. I picture myself tied to the bed; I can almost feel Chase running his fingers down my sides, asking me if I want to come, if I deserve to come. I exchange Chase with Skye and almost self-combust.

  “Tell me you need me, Amelia. Tell me you’re not able to control yourself so you’re handing that control to me. Release all of your emotions and thoughts to me, my sweet. Let me do that for you. All I need you to do is agree to let me take care of you.” Chase’s words hit home; that’s what I need. I need Skye to take away my turmoil and help me free my mind. I just need to figure out how to get him to do that.

  The familiar sight of my ancient apartment building comes into sight. Harley pulls into a parking spot. The moment the Jeep is in park, I jump out. Leaving Skye to help Harley with Sara, I head into the building, race up the three flights of stairs to my apartment, and let myself in. Once inside, I slide out of my flip-flops and head for my bedroom.

  I fall face first into my teal and chocolate comforter and take in a deep breath, inhaling the comforting mixture of fabric softener and a hint of Skye. I hear the front door open and muffled voices. Everyone is quiet for a moment, but then the soft padding of someone walking in my direction echoes down the hall. The door creaks, but I keep my face buried in the blankets.

  I know he’s standing there watching me, wondering what’s going on in my head. Knowing Skye, he’s desperate to wrap me up in his arms and protect me from all my self-deprecating thoughts, fight off all my insecurities, and shower me with love. If it were up to him, my life would be nothing but marshmallow clouds, fields of cotton candy, and everyone would piss rainbows. I chuckle at the unexpected thought.

  “Something you'd like to share?” he asks.

  I instantly stifle my laugh and roll over to face him. His eyes widen and his lips part. When his tongue peeks out and runs along his bottom lip, my body starts to tingle. His facial expression reminds me of the Big Bad Wolf, staring at Little Red Riding Hood with the intent of eating her up.

  Images of our time together in my hospital room, when he put my needs before his, flash through my mind like an old-time movie reel. His head between my thighs, smoldering eyes locked on mine, face glistening from my lust. I squeeze my thighs together, desperate to find some sort of friction. I may have shut down emotionally the past few months, but the need to feel Skye buried deep inside of me is always there.

  He must see it written all over my face and in my body language because he pushes off the doorframe. Before he can take another step toward me, Harley belts down the hallway, “Pizza cool with y’all? Brady called. Everyone is meeting up at BAR around six.” Skye freezes. His eyes dart from me back to the door.

  I sit up on the bed and start to stand. As soon as my feet hit the floor, nausea assaults me. My knees buckle, and before I can catch myself, I’m on all fours on the floor.

  My body starts seizing from the dry heaves that are attacking me. Two large arms wrap around me and a second later, I’m cradled like a child and being hauled toward the master bath. The moment my face is above the toilet, my stomach rejects the toast and coffee I had for breakfast this morning.

  The pain in my abdomen is excruciating. Sweat beads up all over my body; chills break out over my skin. Callused fingers rake through my hair, in a soothing motion, gathering my long locks in a makeshift ponytail.

  “All better now?” His chest vibrates from his words.

  “Yeah, I’m good.” The instant the words leave my mouth, another bout of nausea has me calling out to the porcelain god.

  My body is removed from Skye’s warmth and settled onto the cold, unforgiving tile. The sound of running water resounds throughout the tiny space, causing my bladder to feel full. I tense when a cold cloth settles on the back of my neck.

  “All done?” he asks. His voice is low but still causes me to tense in pain as a headache starts to settle in at the back of my skull.

  “I think so,” I whisper. No sooner do I reply, I’m being lifted once again. I close my eyes and revel in the solid warmth of Skye’s embrace. My body spins and in one quick maneuver, we are both lying in the bed, my back to his front. One of his arms rests under my head while his other hand trails gradually up my side, stopping at the back of my neck.

  His skillful fingers work their magic in all the right spots, relieving the tension and chasing away the migraine that’s starting to set in. I moan in appreciation. I get lost in the circling motions, hypnotized by his fingers. My eyelids begin to feel leaded and as each second passes, I’m closer to unconsciousness.

  Suddenly, there’s a bright flash of light and Tom’s smiling face appears in my mind’s eye. My body descends into a free fall. All the air is sucked from my lungs and my eyes start to sting from the hundreds of tiny pinpricks stabbing me behind my lids.

  My body jolts up into a seated position as precious oxygen expels from my lungs at an alarming rate. Through my watery eyes, I see a blurred version of Skye crouched in front of me, one hand on his nose, the other on my legs.

  “Baby, what is it?” he asks. I can hardly hear his words; I’m so focused on the blood seeping between his fingers. The bedroom door bursts open. I wish I could turn my head to see who’s come in here, but I can’t drag my eyes away from the crimson red covering his sun-kissed fingers.

  I continue to gasp for air, filling and expelling it from my lungs as quickly as possible. My body tingles and my mind remains numb. I watch a single drop of blood hang on to Skye’s pinky and I can’t help but to compare myself to that tiny drop. Clinging desperately to him with everything I have, scared to let go, fearfully waiting for the moment when I’m snatched from his grasp and pulled into the unknown to be swallowed up.

  “What the fuck happened?” I hear Sara’s voice ring out. The room remains quiet for a moment before Skye answers her.

  When Skye climbs off the bed, I watch the tiny drop release itself from his finger and fall onto the bed. I remain stuck, mesmerized by the tiny drop that lands on the comforter.

  “Chloe? Chloe?” My body starts trembling. The bed shifts; warm hands are placed on my cheeks and my chin is raised. I can see her in front of me, but it’s like I’m looking through someone else’s eyes. When look at her, I don’t see my friend. In front of me sits someone that’s trying to invade my protective bub
ble. Someone who’s trying to pull me from my comfort zone.

  Tears run down my cheeks at a faster rate. My breathing becomes strenuous and more rapid with every passing second. The tingling morphs to tiny needles pressing against my chilled skin and the room starts spinning. I can hear Sara and Harley’s voice, but I can’t make out what they are saying. What the fuck is wrong with me? Wheezing noises are now accompanying each rushed breath, my lungs feel like rubber.

  “Call 9-1-1!” I hear Sara’s panic laced voice.

  “Chloe, you have to calm down. Baby, breathe. Take a deep breath. Can you hear me?” I don’t see him, but I can feel his strong hands on me. “Get her a cold rag, she’s having a panic attack!”

  My chest hurts and I try in earnest to control the uncontrollable. I command my tears to stop coming, I beg my lungs to stop working so hard, but it’s no use. Once again, my body is left paralyzed while my emotions and mind are fully functional and running rampant, leaving me panic-stricken.

  Am I that weak of a person that I can’t even control my own body? It’s like someone or something has possessed me and I am floating above them, watching all the emotional havoc, powerless to stop the damage they’re causing to my psyche and heart.

  A thousand tiny, white specks float in my blurred vision, dancing around me without a care in the word. I wish I were one of those specks. I sit stunned and watch as they grow larger and darker until they’re soot black and clouding my entire vision.

  “I don’t know what happened. I was massaging her neck, her body jerked, and then she sat up so fast she clipped my nose with her head. I don’t think she even felt it. I’m worried about her, she slipping further and further away from us.” Skye’s gentle voice wakes me. I realize they’re talking about me, so I lay still and try to keep my breathing even so they’ll think I’m still asleep.

  My head rises and falls with each breath Skye takes. His heartbeat thuds in my ear, strong and steady. The steady drumming of the organ I love most sends a relaxing sensation throughout my body.