by Alexa Davis
“I need you,” I panted loudly. “Matthew, I need you now; it’s been far too long.”
I shut my eyes and gripped tightly to the sheets beneath me as I heard the distinctive sound of his pants being removed. A few seconds followed this, in which I assumed that he was removing his underwear, too. I wanted to look, to see him, but for some reason, I felt too anxious to do so, which left me waiting there, expectantly.
And that was how I stayed, until I felt my panties yanked down as if they were the most inconvenient item of clothing in the whole damn world. My eyes snapped open at that to find Matthew hovering over me, his face close to me.
“Are you sure?” he panted into my mouth. I found it sweet that he was being so caring about me when he clearly needed me so damn badly, but that wasn't what I needed. I didn’t want him to be a gentleman – I wanted him to claim me, to devour me whole.
“I’m sure,” I replied desperately. “I’ve never been surer about anything in my whole damn life.”
Luckily for me, he didn’t need telling twice; he seemed to sense how utterly badly I needed him, so he slid that amazing, thick length into me, causing me to arch my back against him in sheer joy. He felt amazing – utterly incredible and even better than I remembered – and I honestly wasn't sure how long I could hold it together.
As he thrust against me, getting harder every time, I clung to him, digging my nails into his back, losing myself with him.
“Oh fuck,” I moaned enthusiastically, fully giving myself to him. “Oh fuck, Matt, you feel phenomenal.”
He replied, but I could barely hear him because the desire was buzzing painfully in my ears, my heart was bursting from my chest, and my breaths were so ragged and labored that I feared my lungs might explode. The pleasure was building, creeping up through me like stream, sending my body into a tense ball, about to spasm at any given moment.
And then the waves crashed over me, shattering through my body, buckling and caressing me in equal measures. I’d never had an orgasm like it. I felt like it was never going to end, and in that moment, I honestly never wanted it to.
*****
“Ngh,” I muttered as I woke up with a jolt a few hours later. My mind was tricking me, trying to convince me in my dreams that I’d done something totally crazy, and it made me feel a little weird.
Shit, none of that was a dream. It was all real, and Matthews’s peaceful, sleeping body next to me was undeniable evidence. I’d slept with him, had a drunken night of sex, and now...
Now, I was facing the cold, sober light of day and I didn’t like what I’d done one bit. Didn’t I convince myself to leave the past behind me where I knew it couldn't hurt me? What the hell had I been thinking? What did I expect would happen?
There was only one thing that I knew for sure, and that was that I couldn’t face him after that – no way! I needed to get out of there before Matthew woke up and forced us into an awkward morning after conversation.
With my heart racing, I snuck around as quietly as I could and grabbed my clothing from the bedroom. Clutching them tightly in my hand, I raced on my tiptoes out into the hallway to get myself dressed there. I wasn't looking forward to the long walk of shame home, but it beat the alternative; it beat having any kind of serious conversation with Matthew. That was something I could do without.
Then without even one glance backwards, I crept towards the front door and clicked it behind me as I faced the light of early morning. It was cold, and I would be stared at if anyone saw me, but I still felt relieved.
That was a mistake I wouldn’t make again. I couldn't if I wanted to keep my heart intact. I would have to put it behind me, see it only as a moment of weakness at a difficult time in my life. Now wasn't the time to be worrying about stupid stuff like that; I needed to focus on my mother, instead.
Chapter Eleven
Matthew
Tuesday
My hand flopped across the bed, expecting to find the warm body of Ashlee lying next to me. The night had been crazy in the heat of the moment, but I had the undeniable sensation that it was about to lead to something great. At least that tough barrier had fallen; at least she’d thawed a little.
It was great to go back to being us once more, the old me and Ashlee before things turned shitty, and it made me feel whole all over again. It made me realize I’d been lost for a very long time.
But she wasn't there.
I patted the space where I knew she’d been, noticing it was cold. My body bolted upright, my heart racing with a pure, icy terror. If the sheets weren’t still warm, it meant she’d left a while before and chances were she wasn't still in my home.
“Fucking hell,” I muttered angrily to myself, feeling that familiar sensation of abandonment coursing through my veins. Why did it always end up this way when we ended up having sex? I mean, sure, I knew it wasn't exactly her fault last time, but I couldn't stop that odd sense of resentment from being there regardless.
The phone call. I couldn't help remembering it and the giant hole it tore into our lives.
We’d just had the best time ever; I’d felt like me and Ashlee were going to be together forever. We already had plans to attend the same college, to make things work, and I naively thought we had what it took. That was until her phone rang with that horrible, devastating news, and everything fell apart.
To me, Ashlee’s dad was the coolest guy on the planet. Not only was he much younger than mine, meaning that he knew about what was going on with my world – he understood the music I liked and the TV shows I watched – he also wanted to spend time with me. He often took me out on his fishing boat, went to football games with me, and on the odd occasion, he took me out on his motorcycle. That was amazing: driving along, feeling the wind race past me, my heart pounding at a million miles an hour. Little did I know that was going to be the thing that killed him.
I didn’t find out the details until much later, but from what I understood, he popped out to the grocery store on a simple errand to pick up some milk because they’d run out. Something to innocuous, so every day, it didn’t feel fair. The roads were wet, there were leaves everywhere, and at some point, he must have skidded into a tree.
As Ashlee pulled on her clothes and tore from the room, she didn’t even look at me. She didn’t even let me in a little bit. I knew she was hurting – that man was her everything – but she’d completely shut me out. She didn’t even say goodbye; she didn’t even acknowledge me... She just left.
I’d slumped on the bed alone, throwing my head into my hands, succumbing to the grief. That man had been the most prominent male figure in my life, and he was just gone. I couldn't understand it, I didn’t know how to wrap my head around it, so I simply fell apart. I crumbled where I was and sobbed until I felt sick, until I thought I might die myself.
I had tried to piece myself back together a little bit, knowing I needed to be strong for Ashlee. I forced my own grief down, burying it deep inside of me while I was a pillar of strength for her, but all she did was push me away. Every time I offered her my support, she ignored me; every time I tried to do things for her, she yelled at me; and every time I tried to tell her that I was in pain, too, she treated me like I meant nothing to her.
Now with hindsight, I could see that she just didn’t know how to feel, but at the time, I felt put out. How could she not understand what I was going through myself?
I knew about Harry’s graduation party; we all did. He’d been bragging about it for months, about how his parents were out of town and leaving the mansion to him, but I’d never considered going. I wasn't friends with that crowd anyway, so why the hell would I? But with Ashlee forcing me far, far away from her, I couldn't see the harm. I needed to blow off some steam, to get drunk and forget about everything, so in the end I made the rash, snap decision to just go.
I had a shit time, fucking awful, surrounded by pretentious, douchey people that I didn’t give two shits about. The only good thing to come of it was the fact that I ended up
getting just about as drunk as I needed to, but somehow it didn’t make me feel any better at all. If anything, I felt a million times worse.
I staggered home, feeling sick and dejected, just to get a massive lecture from my mother. Ashlee had come around to see me, looking like she actually needed me for the first time since all of this had happened, and I was nowhere to be found. I instantly tried to call her and message her, but I got nothing back. She’d clearly shut back down again.
I probably shouldn’t have gone to see her right then, when I was drunk and stupid, but of course, I was young and stupid, and I really didn’t know any better.
“Fuck,” I practically yelled, before forcing myself to get out of bed and to get moving. I couldn't simply lie there, wallowing in my pain, not when I had to get to work. I had another distraction this time, one that was a little healthier, so I needed to get my mind zoned in on that, instead.
*****
As soon as I stepped into the office, Terri bounded over to me like an excitably puppy, instantly sending a cringe bursting right through me. I couldn’t tolerate her, not after I’d just slept with someone who I actually cared about in more than a friendship way, someone who had actually blown me off.
It was ironic that the only person I was willing to break my no sleep overrule for was the one who vanished in the middle of the night. Maybe this was my karma; maybe this was what I deserved for brushing off so many people in the past. I tried to work out how many people I might have inadvertently hurt in my mission to fill the hole that Ashlee had left behind, and for a second, my heart hurt a little.
“How are you today?” Terri grinned seductively at me, sending me a wink. “It feels like forever since I’ve seen you.”
Normally that statement would have had me rock hard, and I would have instantly been planning our next visit to the janitor’s closet, but today, it did nothing to me.
Everything about Terri that once had me more turned on than I ever felt possible, now did absolutely nothing for me. I sighed quietly to myself, knowing things between us were done. Even if things had gone to shit between me and Ashlee, I couldn't go back anymore. I probably should have cut things off with Terri a long time ago, anyway.
“I’m fine,” I replied quietly. “I just...need a coffee.”
I tried to push past her to walk into the canteen by myself, but unfortunately, she followed me there. “Are you okay?” she insisted, not letting me go. “You seem a little...off?”
“Yes, I’m just tired. And hungover. And busy.”
I felt bad as I closed the door behind me, effectively shutting her out. I didn’t want to be the kind of dirt bag who shut someone out just because I’d moved on, but at the same time, I was starting to fear what Willy had said to me was true. If Terri had spent this whole time slowly developing feelings for me, despite my insistence not to, then it was going to take me a long time to get things back to normal with her. Would we be able to continue working together when I made her see that we were nothing? Or would she end up causing trouble for me?
I never should have dipped my pen in the company ink. I should have known that was going to be a mistake right away. Now, I was going to have to deal with the consequences of that.
*****
I couldn't face going back home as soon as my shift was over, so I headed over to Willy’s boat, instead. I needed his advice on my current situation, and even though I was going to have to tell him some stuff he didn’t yet know, I knew it was the only way I could get the insight from an outsider I so desperately needed.
“So, you and Ashlee, huh?” he nudged me, grinning like a fool almost the second I stepped up onto his boat. “I don't think any of us were expecting that one.”
“Least of all me,” I admitted, unsure if I wanted to get right into it. “So, what happened with you and Kerri?” Maybe if I heard his story first, it would loosen me up a little, but it seemed like I wasn't about to get lucky with that one.
“No, I asked first, come on. The last thing I heard about you two was some crazy, stupid, teenage argument where you broke up over something silly... Is that all in the past now? Are we going for Ashlee and Matthew 2.0?”
“Not exactly.” I sat down, and he copied me, leaning in to listen closer. “I thought we might be able to restart things, it certainly seemed like we were heading in that direction, but in the morning, she was just...gone.”
I stared at my feet, feeling like a fucking idiot for having to say this aloud. I was supposed to be a playboy, a screw around who didn’t care. This was utterly humiliating to have to talk about. “So, I guess the past isn’t behind us, after all.”
“That seems a little crazy to me,” Willy sighed. “Over some decade-old argument?”
“Well, there’s a little more to it than that.” My heart thundered as I opened yet another wound. “I think the final nail for the both of us was the fact that I didn’t go to her father’s funeral.”
“You didn’t?” he all but yelled. “But you were closer to him than you were your own dad! You didn’t even go to support her? You didn’t push all your bullshit aside?”
“Don't you think I know that?” I yelled in retaliation. “It’s haunted me for years, but I just couldn't do it. I felt like after we’d broken up, she wouldn’t want to see me and that I’d make things worse. I didn’t feel like I deserved to go.”
“Wow, dude,” Willy stared at me with confusion in his eyes, as if seeing a new side of me, one that he didn’t quite like. “I don't know what to say about that. No wonder she’s mad! What the hell are you going to do now?”
I shrugged my shoulders sadly, feeling that never-ending question flow right through me. What could I do now? Was there any hope, or had last night proven that we could never get things back, no matter how hard we tried?
Chapter Twelve
Ashlee
Wednesday
Tuesday passed me by in a hungover haze. I didn’t know what the hell to do with my weary, aching body and my frantic, racing mind, so I forced myself to get lost in some trashy TV, sleeping on and off throughout. Mom kept asking about how the night had gone, whilst making jokes about me having a little too much fun, which I couldn't even begin to reply to.
If only she knew.
Mom had always liked Matthew, that had to be said. Both her and my dad liked him very much. In fact, my friendship with him was one of the main reasons they were glad to have moved to Florence.
We initially came because of dad’s work, but when his new job didn’t quite work out, they both made the effort to stay so that I didn’t have to leave Matthew. At the time, I had been extremely grateful for that, but afterwards, I felt like I might have done better if we’d moved earlier on.
She was there the night of the argument, of course, that dreaded night where he came to my house too drunk to even give a shit about my college acceptances, but she was far too wrapped up in her own grief to let that affect her opinion of Matthew. She was wallowing, growing increasingly depressed, endlessly blaming herself for sending Dad out to buy milk that night, which made her totally unreachable.
She didn’t even slightly start to come out of that until she escaped Florence, but then again, neither did I. We both needed that break away to come back into ourselves.
Some terrible things were said during that argument, words I didn’t even want to remember, but every now and again they cropped back into my mind, haunting me like a clingy ghost that didn’t want to let go. Of course, the day after, we’d hooked up once more as I was feeling fragile and out of control; I couldn’t even begin to stop myself from recalling it over and over again.
I was crying on the bed when he knocked on the door. I couldn’t believe that he’d betrayed me in such a way. Sure, I’d been a little distant recently, but I thought that was understandable considering all that I’d been through. I didn’t want to move; I wanted to stay in my pit of misery where I felt safe, but I knew that Mom wasn't about to get up and speak to whoever was there, so I
didn’t have any choice.
As soon as I saw his face, all slack and emotionless from intoxication, I folded my arms defiantly across my chest.
“What do you want?” I snapped at him. “Shouldn’t you be at your little party?”
After that, he launched into a totally self-sympathetic speech about how he was struggling, too, and about how I was ignoring his needs – his needs! I couldn't fucking believe it.
Admittedly, now I could see that I overreacted by telling him that he was a selfish dickhead who only cared about himself. I probably shouldn’t have said that I hated his fucking guts and that I never wanted to see him again... But he wasn't perfect, either.
He told me that I thought I was better than him, that I thought I was the only one who deserved to be upset. He said that if I couldn't see his point of view, then there was no point in us even trying to have a future together. As soon as those words left his lips, I recalled my acceptance letter from New York University and made the snap irrational decision that I would go there.
“Get out of here,” I sneered nastily at him. “We’re done. I never want to see you again. You’re the worst person I’ve ever met in my entire life.” And, I slammed the door in his face, closing it on him for the very last time. I never saw him again.
I expected him to come to my father’s funeral despite everything else. I thought he would push it all aside to support me, that the years before would mean enough for him to ignore one, tiny argument. I even assumed that we might make up with one another and we’d end up back together... But it seemed like his stupid, drunken grudge was more important than me.
As I put my father in the ground and said goodbye to him, I waved off everything else in my life, too. I decided to say goodbye to Florence, to my old friends, to everything that connected me to him.