Presently Perfect (Perfect #3)

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Presently Perfect (Perfect #3) Page 10

by Alison G. Bailey

I gulped a large amount of air and said, “You really know how to eat cake.”

  The fork passed between us until the cake was gone. I kept the pace slow, not wanting time to move forward, focusing on the present, because the future was about to become irreversible.

  After tossing our trash in the can, I headed back to Tweet. As I approached she stood and took a few steps in my direction. Her face scrunched up in confusion when she realized I wasn’t making a move to leave. An overall numbness invaded my body.

  Huffing out a strained breath, I whispered, “We need to talk, Tweet.”

  Her shoulders sank as her chest caved in, and fear took over her expression. I could tell she wanted to run, but she stayed firmly planted in front of me. We moved back to the swings and sat. I made several attempts to form the words, but they kept taking a detour, getting lost somewhere in between my head and my heart.

  Tweet finally broke the silence. “Why are we sitting over here?”

  “I didn’t want to talk at your house or our spot,” I admitted.

  “Why?”

  “Since you left my house, all I can see when I walk into the family room is you sitting on the floor, screaming and crying.”

  I felt the beginning of a sob tremor run through my body. I bit my lip and held my breath, riding the wave in silence, and not letting it pour out of me.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I don’t want you to have the same pain as I do whenever you’re in your room or at our spot.” Pausing, I tried to focus on anything other than Tweet’s eyes. They were on the verge of spilling over with tears. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to be around each other for a while.” My voice cracked on each word.

  All the oxygen rushed out of my lungs and my head throbbed. Tweet’s face was getting redder and more contorted. I gripped the metal chain of the swing as hard as I possibly could, trying to hold myself together and not reach out to touch her. Her eyes were the size of saucers as she concentrated on my face. The silence between us strangled my throat, but I was frozen, not knowing what else to say. I stayed put, waiting for Tweet to make the next move.

  “Why?” The word barely made it across her lips.

  “I think you know why,” I whispered.

  “I think I do too but I’d like to hear it from you, just in case I’m wrong.”

  I hesitated. I was scared to continue the conversation, worried that my pain and frustration would explode in anger like it had earlier. I didn’t want to fight with her anymore. “Tweet, I don’t know,” I paused again. “This thing is confusing.”

  “What thing?”

  Pointing back and forth between us, I said, “This thing between us. It’s so different.”

  “Different good or different bad?”

  “Different confusing. I know you’ve always been down on yourself. I know you think you’re doing what’s best for me. I hate that you think so little of yourself and I hate that you don’t think we belong together. I’ve tried to be around you and stay in the friend zone. I’ve tried so fucking hard.” Tears flowed freely down her face, causing my own to spill over. “I can’t be around you right now. It hurts too much, because I am so completely and desperately in love with you, Tweet.”

  Silence.

  Tweet, say something. Tell me you’ll at least try. Don’t let me give up on us, please.

  Silence.

  “There hasn’t been a day in my life that I haven’t loved you. I wish you would just let me love you,” I choked.

  A look of devastation flooded her eyes when my words registered. I knew she loved me. I could see it and feel it, but she was incapable of saying it. She didn’t know how to free herself from whatever it was that had a hold on her and the struggle was ripping me apart. I didn’t know how to help her. If I couldn’t take care of Tweet then what the fuck was my purpose?

  I reached my hand up and gently stroked one of her tear-drenched cheeks. Resting our foreheads together, I whispered. “You’ll always be the most important thing in my life. I’ll always be there for you no matter what or who else comes into my life. I have no past without you and I can’t imagine a future that doesn’t include you. I just need some time to figure out how I can have you in my life without having you be my life.”

  Tears continued to gush in a steady stream from her eyes as she clamped them shut. After several seconds they opened and peered directly into mine. Starting at my cheek, the tips of her fingers touched my skin and timidly traveled down to my jaw. “I’m so sorry.”

  The entire night still felt surreal as we walked back to Tweet’s house. We stood on her front porch, our arms wrapped around each other like a pair of lifelines. First, I concentrated on the feel of her body, the softness of her skin, and the smell of her hair. Then my focus moved to how right it felt belonging to her. No matter what happened in our past or what will take place in our future, I will always belong to Tweet.

  I shifted my weight from side-to-side, each time thinking the movement would break our connection. It only caused my fear and pain to intensify. Last year during one of the playoff games, we were so far behind, the entire team knew there was no way for us to rally and win. Coach told us there are no magic answers in life. You could want something so deeply and desperately, do everything in your power to achieve it, and still fall short. That there are just times in life that you have to suck it up, be strong, and get through it.

  I allowed my lips to brush the shell of Tweet’s ear and whispered, “I need to go or I won’t, and I have to do this.”

  “I know,” she choked out.

  I took a step back. Our faces were drenched in tears and our chests were pumping heavy from our sobs. The look in her eyes reflected what I was feeling. The heartache and fear of facing a life without my soul mate.

  My gaze lingered on every inch of her beautiful face before I forced the words out. “Goodbye, Tweet.”

  “Goodbye, Noah.”

  Walking backward down the steps, I was still unable to take my eyes off of her. Once at the bottom, I hesitated, praying that she’d listen to her heart. For a brief second I swore I saw her lips form the words, I love you. But she never moved and the only sound I heard were the crickets chirping around us. I turned and left behind the only life I knew and wanted. No more hearing her laughter or seeing her smile. No more watching her devour spoonfuls of frosting or getting lost in our favorite music. No warm hugs, soft hands in mine, or shy sweet looks. No one to share and live my dreams with. All I could do was wait for this new life to feel like my life, but deep down I knew that would never happen.

  The rest of junior year inched along as I continued to distance myself from Tweet. At school, I stopped using the locker next to hers, opting for one in the locker room, I stopped eating lunch with her, and I found a new parking spot as far away from hers as possible. Out of school, I forced myself to stop riding by our spot and severely limited my time staring out of the kitchen window over at her house. It wasn’t easy but I managed. I had to. The hardest times were when our families did things together, like a cookout or spending a day on the Kelly’s boat. I was amazed how exhausting it was not to do what came naturally. It took herculean strength not to hug her, hold her hand, or sit next to her. Not making eye contact and not talking to her was unbearable.

  I made plans to be gone most of the summer visiting the campuses of potential colleges to attend after graduation. I doubled my workouts, was taking part in The Citadel baseball camp, playing in the summer league, and volunteering at a sports program for underprivileged kids. I forced myself to stay in perpetual motion until the urge for Tweet to be my life went away. I was an idiot because the urge never faded and deep down I knew it never would.

  One night, a month before senior year started, I was sitting alone on another sofa, drinking another beer, at another party Travis dragged me to. They all blurred together at this point—same crowd, same conversation, same music, same everything. I wasn’t exactly the most fun person to be around, but Trav
is continued to hang out with me. I felt bad for him. He was a good friend and put up with my moody ass. I faked having a good time for the most part, except for tonight.

  Earlier in the day Travis and I met at the mall to pick up some baseball equipment the Sportsman’s Shop donated for the kid’s program where we were assistant coaches. After loading up my truck we decided to grab some lunch at the food court. As I stood in line waiting to place my order an intense vibration shot through me. When I turned, my gaze crashed into teal eyes. Everything stopped. I hadn’t been this close to Tweet in months. She stared at me with a blank expression. My heart dictated my movements and I took a step toward her. Whirling around, she sprinted in the opposite direction before my foot even hit the ground. My body headed in her direction until Travis stood between us, blocking my view and progress.

  A large hand came down and landed on my shoulder, causing my umpteenth beer to slosh over the sides of the red cup. “What the fuck?”

  I bounced slightly when Travis plopped down on the sofa next to me. “Hey buddeeey. How’s my buddeeey?” he slurred, sliding his upper body along the back of the sofa closer to me.

  I glanced over and threw him a lazy smirk.

  With a cocked eyebrow and lopsided grin, he informed me, “I gotta surprise that’s gonna make that smile and other parts of you grow bigger.”

  “You’re making me really uncomfortable,” I said, leaning away.

  “There are two lovelies that want to spend time with our pulsating masculinity. Their names are Heather and Melanie.”

  Travis’s head flopped to the side, his gaze and wave aimed at a cute blonde and brunette standing across the room.

  “They’re all yours, buddy. I’m not in the mood.” I downed more of my beer.

  His head rolled back toward me. “Heather won’t leave Melanie. They travel in pairs. I want to get my hands on Heather’s pair, so you get in the mood.”

  “I’m sure your immense charm will pry her away.”

  “Come on. Be a friend.”

  “Sorry, not tonight.”

  Glaring at me, he bit out, “Not tonight… then what fucking night? I’d like to put that date on my calendar so I can stop wasting my time.”

  “What’s your problem?”

  “You’re my problem. You and this pussy-whipped, no balls, coochie slave attitude you’ve been sporting around for months instead of a rock-hard dick.”

  “Fuck you! You don’t understand.”

  I pushed off the sofa, stumbling a few steps toward the back door. I needed some air and to get away from Travis’s bullshit. The room spun, and then I spun as Travis grabbed my upper arm, turning me to face him.

  “I understand. You’ve been hung up on this fucking girl ever since I’ve known you.”

  My fingers curled into fists as I got in his face and snarled, “Don’t you ever refer to her as this fucking girl.”

  Travis took a step back, ran his hands over his face, and huffed in frustration. “What’s the deal? I thought I was finally getting my friend back. You see her for like two seconds today and it sends you into a fucking tailspin. You gotta get past this.”

  I could see the sincerity in his eyes. He wasn’t telling me these things in anger or because he didn’t like Tweet. He knew I was in a constant struggle and he was being a friend.

  “I’m trying,” I whispered.

  “Try harder, dude.”

  “I don’t know how.” It was pathetic how weak and defeated my voice sounded.

  After seeing Tweet earlier, the rest of the day had been spent replaying the few seconds encounter over and over in my head. She looked incredible except for the sadness in her eyes. A pang of guilt pinched my stomach because I was glad to see that sadness. It meant she was as miserable as I was. She disappeared in a flash but I didn’t need a lot of time in order to take her all in. Her hair was that summer mixture of dark brown and gold. The light sprinkle of red across her nose and cheeks was either a result of being at the beach or seeing me. I hoped it was the latter. She had on a plain white tank top and a pair of black shorts that were molded to her adorable round ass. Tweet was the only girl I knew who could wear the plainest clothes, little makeup, and still look like a supermodel. The memory of her hips swaying back and forth as she darted away had my dick twitching. I turned from Travis and headed out the back door, needing that air more now than before.

  Once outside, I propped myself up against the house, closed my eyes, and sucked in all the oxygen my lungs could handle.

  I need to get her out of my head.

  There were a few people hanging out around the pool so I concentrated on them. That was a dumbass move because most of them were hooking up. Sounds of kissing, moaning, giggling, and more moaning filled my ears. I shifted my attention to the sounds coming from inside the house. Another dumbass move. The only thing I could hear was the pounding music, which made me think of Tweet’s swaying hips, which made me think of grabbing those hips and pounding into… I had to get out of there.

  As I shoved off of the wall, the back door swung open, Travis stepped out, and headed over toward me.

  “It kills me to see you like this.” He paused, his eyes shifting from me to something over my shoulder. “I didn’t want to say anything because I don’t play into the rumor bullshit.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  His expression showed how much he was struggling with whether or not to continue. “I heard Amanda is hooking up with some guy.”

  My brows scrunched together as my jaw went slack. A small chuckle of disbelief escaped me. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because I care about you. You’re like a brother to me. Noah, stop pissing your life away waiting for something that’s not gonna happen.”

  Glancing away, I shook my head, and said, “It’s a fucking lie.”

  “How do you know?”

  My eyes pierced his. “She wouldn’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because she’s my Tweet!” I screamed.

  Out the corner of my eye, I could see the people around the pool unhooking from one another.

  “She’s not your anything! When are you going to get that through your fucking head?!”

  I lunged forward, landed both hands on Travis’s chest, and shoved. He stumbled back, but made no move to come after me.

  “I’m not going to fight you, man.”

  “Who’s the no-balls pussy now?!”

  I shoved.

  He stumbled back.

  Party people scattered into the house.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice full of pity.

  I shoved.

  He stumbled back.

  And then I tackled him to the ground.

  I landed one hard punch to his jaw before he flipped me onto my back, wrapped his massive arm around my neck, and held me down. I jerked and twisted for several seconds trying to break free of his hold. Finally, the alcohol and pain took over and I gave up.

  Pressing the heel of my hands into my eyes, I choked back tears, and mumbled, “We’ve shared all our firsts together.”

  Travis stood. “Let’s go inside and have another beer.”

  I sat up, staring at his outstretched hand for a second before grabbing hold and lifting myself off the ground.

  “I’m gonna stay out here for a while and get some air,” I told him.

  We exchanged one more look of understanding before he turned and headed toward the house.

  “Travis.”

  He spun around. “Yeah?”

  “Thanks for looking out for me.”

  “That’s what brothers are for. Besides, someone’s gotta keep an eye on your sorry ass.” He gave me a weak smile and went inside.

  I walked to one of the lounge chairs by the pool, sat, and dropped my head in my hands.

  Christ, was it true? Was that the reason Tweet barely looked at me and ran away today? Had she been with someone? Had she given that part of herself away?

&
nbsp; I thought the sadness in her eyes was because she missed me. I concentrated on the quick glimpse I got of her. Travis’s words, the beer, and the overwhelming feeling of emptiness were clouding my memory. Maybe it was guilt and embarrassment for having moved on, leaving me behind. I hadn’t even thought about being with anyone since that night I told her I needed time.

  Soft footsteps approached and then the cushion on the chair shifted as someone sat down. A small hand began rubbing circles between my shoulder blades. My elbows stayed grounded on my knees as I looked up at Brittani. She had on a tight strapless bright orange dress that pushed her tits almost up to her neck. Her hair was curly and ran down her back.

  “Hey,” she said. Her eyes were full of concern. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You don’t look okay. You look sad.”

  Pursing my lips together, I forced a slight smile in her direction.

  “I’ve missed you.” The tip of her tongue poked out and swept across her bottom lip.

  The hand that had been rubbing my back made its way to my shoulder as her other hand rested on my upper thigh.

  “Noah, stop pissing your life away waiting for something that’s not gonna happen.”

  “She’s not your anything! When are you going to get that through your fucking head?!”

  The hand on my leg began to inch its way up and over heading for my crotch.

  Leaning away, I said, “Brittani…”

  “I can make you feel better.”

  I inhaled a sharp breath and stared into her glassy eyes. It was obvious she had been drinking. My emotions and willpower were drained. I was tired of feeling with my heart because all that got me was pain. I wanted to disappear for just a little while and get lost in sensation.

  It was like I had stepped outside of my body, watching my hand find its way around the back of Brittani’s neck. I clamped my eyes shut, leaned in, and slowly brought her lips closer to mine until they connected. Her hand slid to my crotch, applying slight pressure as it rubbed up and down my dick. I pushed on the back of her neck with more force, taking her farther into my mouth. My tongue corkscrewed around hers. She tasted like stale beer and smelled like Fritos. I thought I had seen snacks in the kitchen on one of my beer runs.

 

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