Craving Dragonflies

by Terri E. Laine

  “Maybe that’s for the best. It’s not like we were going to end up in the same place,” I said.

  You would have thought lightning struck in front of him for the wide-eyed step he took back.

  “So that’s how it is?” he asked.

  For the last year, our friendship had taken a beating. Though I’d moved back, things between us weren’t completely resolved.

  “You made it clear where you stood. Now let me make mine. I like her a lot. Don’t be a fucking dick to her because someone else is playing with your favorite toy.”

  He stepped forward, remorse on his face.

  “It’s not like that.”

  I held his gaze in a chokehold, stopping him in his tracks.

  “Isn’t it? I’ve found someone and you’re jealous.”

  I raised a brow, waiting for him to balk.

  “I’m not jealous. I don’t want this chick to take advantage,” he retorted.

  Everything we’d been through, I believed him.

  “Thanks, but I can handle it.”

  He didn’t give me a chance to breathe before he countered.

  “Can you? Last we spoke you weren’t even sure if you were gay.”

  I tried not to be pissed off knowing he didn’t mean it as an insult.

  “And you were right. I’m not.”

  “How do you know?” he challenged.

  There was no point in hurling back an answer. I took my time deciding how much I wanted to say without telling him it wasn’t his business.

  “I know.”

  And that was all the truth he deserved from me. We may have been friends, once closer than brothers, but like everything else, nothing lasted forever.

  Though a wound grew in his eyes, he only nodded.

  There was nothing more to say. I’d left Willow far too long. She and everyone else weren’t stupid about what was going on up here.

  “Be nice to her,” I warned.

  I didn’t have to add that I’d never asked him for anything before in my life, not even when I told him so long ago how I felt.

  He tipped his head again and I left, hoping the rest of my night with Willow hadn’t been spoiled.

  41

  Willow

  * * *

  My first night as Ashton’s girlfriend ended shortly after he’d come downstairs. Though he’d given me a smile, it hadn’t quite reached his eyes. I could tell he wanted to leave, but I’d been in the middle of eating a slice of pizza that was so good I’d told Shelly I wanted to marry her.

  Sawyer had come down a few minutes later, and everyone tried to ignore the weird haze that clouded the room.

  “I should take you home,” Ashton whispered into my ear.

  It hadn’t been the words I’d hoped for. The ache between my legs was a real thing, but I still wanted more. He’d made me a whore. I finally understood what the damn fuss was about, and I found myself greedy with need.

  Though I’d been fearless earlier, I clammed up in the face of the sorrow he couldn’t quite hide.

  “Okay,” I said, trying for a grin myself and was sure I’d failed.

  That daring part of myself hid, wondering if I would get the brush-off by the time we arrived at my place.

  I waved goodbye, but the girls decided to circle in for a hug. You’d thought we’d been long-lost friends for all the promises they made to keep in touch. We’d already exchanged phone numbers. Though I didn’t tell them that phones for me were like socks in a dryer. I never knew if I’d see it again, and I currently didn’t have one.

  Once again, Ashton had been a true gentleman, but conversation was lost in the roar of his engine. One thing that made it more apparent that things had changed was his lack of touch. He’d guided me out the house at the small of my back, but his hand hadn’t sought mine.

  We arrived at my apartment with little fanfare. When I reached for the door handle, wanting to be out before he said anything that would damage my heart, he stopped me.

  It wasn’t as if I loved him. It was too soon for that, wasn’t it? But my feelings, whatever they should be called, were very much wrapped up in him. They had been since he first kissed me or before.

  “I’m sorry about earlier with Sawyer.”

  I blinked at him, probably because I’d been expecting a far different statement.

  “No, he’s fine,” I said.

  He shook his head. “No, he wasn’t. He was an ass and I told him as much.”

  “He’s probably worried…”

  I trailed off because what did Sawyer have to be worried about? Nothing from me, unless my presence made him realize something else. My stomach curdled like old milk.

  “That’s what he said.”

  His reply didn’t miss a beat. He hadn’t noticed my confusion because he’d aimed his gaze at the steering wheel before glancing over at me.

  “But it isn’t his choice. It’s mine,” he finished.

  That took some of the sour out of my gut until I noticed his grip on the steering wheel.

  “I don’t want to come between the two of you.”

  It sucked to be altruistic. At the same time, I cared enough about him not to want to hurt him any more than his secretive past had.

  His hand left the wheel in favor of taking mine.

  “You’re not. I want this.”

  His penetrating gaze was fierce in a way that demanded acceptance.

  “I do too,” I said.

  He leaned down and kissed me. It started slow, just light pressure against my lips and a tingle down between my lower ones. Then I let his tongue slide in. His hand slipped up my arm and into my hair. I thrilled at his touch. For whatever reason, it gave me confidence I needed about where we stood.

  I whimpered when he pulled back.

  “I should go, unless you want us to give your neighbors a show,” he said.

  The question of asking him up to my room played briefly in my mind. The weariness still in his eyes answered the question for me. He needed time to get over whatever happened between him and Sawyer.

  I leaned up and brushed my lips over his. Then I bit my lower one when the noticeable bulge in his pants boosted my confidence.

  “About that show,” he teased.

  I giggled and leaned back. He stopped me again. “Let me get that for you.”

  He got out and rounded the car to open my door. My grin held a lot of teeth, and I had to cover my mouth. He took said hand and moved it down.

  “Stop laughing. You see what you’re doing to me.”

  I reached out and cupped him through his jeans, tossing out my vows not to ask him to stay.

  “You could come in.”

  I giggled at my Freudian slip.

  Next thing I knew, his hands were on my ass hoisting me up. The chirping of the car locking was his answer.

  “Where to?”

  I directed him, winding my legs firmly around his waist. We stumbled into my apartment and would have woken the dead with our laughter, knocking furniture and walls to get to my room. Celeste didn’t come out. I assumed that meant she wasn’t home. It was a good thing, because I didn’t remain anywhere close to quiet this time around.

  At some point later, he told me goodbye. He whispered he had practice, and I murmured something I couldn’t remember, dozing back into dreamless sleep.

  When I did wake, there was disappointment of him not being there. The hour was late, near noon. Most of my classes had unofficially ended. Papers, projects, and end of the semester testing were underway. The only class I worried about was my Entomology III class. I needed to go to the pond to perform my ad hoc labs.

  Though I questioned myself on my major as much as my professor had, I still believed firmly there had to be more humane ways of studying insects than killing them. Maybe it made me a bad scientist. At the same time, innovations and inventions didn’t happen without going against the grain and testing new theories.

  I got up and showered. Before I could leave, Celeste clad in a fu
zzy robe holding a be silent until I finish my coffee mug grilled me.

  “Had company last night, did you?” she asked, her eyes holding mine.

  I blushed like a schoolgirl with her first crush.

  “You heard?”

  She eyed me, lips curling into a knowing smirk.

  “No, I missed that. I did, however, see the boy leaving.”

  She’d warned me against him so many times I waited in vain for her to add more commentary.

  “Not going to say anything?” I asked.

  “About Ashton Westborough, Sawyer’s best friend?”

  Her lips pursed in disapproval.

  “You were wrong about him.” I pointed my finger at the counter while saying so.

  “Apparently, given the sex smell wafting from your room.”

  Talk about moth to a flame. My face needed a firehose to cool it off.

  “Don’t be ashamed. I’m happy for you. Am I to assume he’s the one you gave your virginity to?”

  I nodded. No reason to lie about that. Plus, I needed a confidant. Despite Shelly and Brie’s insta-friendship, I didn’t know them well enough to spill these secrets to.

  “Good for you. I’m glad I was wrong about him.”

  There was something suspicious about her quick acquiescence.

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “Did you talk to him?”

  She put the coffee to her lips and drank before answering.

  “Talk might not be the right word. I told him if he valued his balls he wouldn’t hurt you.” My jaw dropped. “Don’t get mad. I’ve been waiting for years to say those sisterly words.”

  I was almost afraid to ask, but did anyway. “What did he say?”

  “Not much of a talker, that one.” I glared at her. “Fine, he said two words.” She must have seen my move, ready to shake the answer out of her. “I won’t. Then he just left.”

  I smiled more to myself than at her.

  “Did you have the conversation with him?” That wiped the grin from my face. “You know, about whether you’re exclusive and I hope you’re being safe.”

  She looked down at her still flat belly as if I needed a reminder about the birds and the bees.

  “He’s my boyfriend,” I said and hoped she left the other question alone.

  I didn’t need a Mom-like lecture from her about the risks I put myself by not insisting on condoms. It hadn’t been a conscious decision. I’d been too caught up in him to care, which was stupid.

  “Boyfriend, huh?”

  I nodded, and she graced me with a grin from ear to ear.

  “Good for you.”

  She’d grilled me, but that didn’t leave her off the hook.

  “Did you tell him?”

  She focused on me, after her stare having found the limits of space.

  “I told him,” she said.

  I wasn’t giving her an inch she hadn’t given me.

  “And?” I queried.

  She shrugged. “Not much he can say or do until I decide.”

  “He can have an opinion,” I urged.

  “He’s not really an opinionated guy.”

  I frowned. That sounded so much like bullshit until I thought of Ash. He hadn’t been very talkative to me or anyone for that matter. He’d only opened up to me after a lot of prodding on my part.

  I let it be and dropped my eyes to my hands. A minute or two later, she said something else that would leave its mark.

  “Be careful, okay.” I nodded, knowing that meant many things. “And don’t think I didn’t catch that you didn’t answer the question about being safe. Don’t end up like me, okay?”

  Her eyes didn’t sparkle with mischief. Like Ash, there was a certain sadness there that was new for her. I moved over and hugged her, silently given her support.

  I bobbed my head and watched her go to her bedroom. I grabbed an apple and headed for the door, with my notes and other lab supplies tucked in my messenger bag.

  Was I being stupid? Maybe. Only time could answer that question.

  42

  Ashton

  * * *

  Football practice sucked and not for the usual reasons. Because Coach thought the chance of a bowl game rode on our next game, practice ran late. That meant I missed spending time with Willow.

  With the classes wrapping up, we’d both been too busy to see each other. She had tests to study for and I had papers to write.

  “Westborough, get your head out of your ass and catch some goddamn balls.”

  I shifted my focus back onto the field.

  “Yes, Coach.”

  “And Cargill, stop throwing the ball like you have a broken arm.”

  He and I eyed each other but said nothing. His father was riding him about his new position as quarterback. Cargill men were destined for greatness and all that jazz. With the way things were, he didn’t talk to me about it much.

  We got into formation as I counted seconds to minutes, waiting for the season to be over. It was never my future to play ball. I’d rather write the commentary than play the game in the pros. That didn’t mean I didn’t have skills. It was hard not to when Sawyer’s dad had played father to me for all my games from elementary to high school. That made me think about the photos in that museum of a room in my father’s house. He’d been to some of my games and could have been the father I needed him to be.

  Sawyer counted off, and I moved automatically when the snap count was done. I ran for my life, hoping that if we executed this play perfectly, Coach would show us mercy and end practice.

  The ball landed in my arms like a newborn baby, but the corner covering me was one step faster. I went down hard. My bell rang like a fire drill, jumbling my thoughts like scattered pages in the wind. I couldn’t think beyond the pain.

  When my vision coalesced into a single image, it was Sawyer’s face above me.

  “At least you caught the ball.”

  His signature humor took the sting out of my pride. Plus, I still held the ball.

  The doctor performed the mandatory concussion test, which I passed. However, practice didn’t end. We endured another hour until we were finally set free.

  I stayed under the spray of hot water as I thought about Willow. It had been days since I’d seen her. Talking on the phone wasn’t my thing. Texting her also was a fruitless task. I needed to see her like a junkie needed a hit.

  “Are you going to the café?”

  Sawyer stood with a towel around his waist, having finished his shower.

  “Nah, go ahead.”

  He nodded and left. I didn’t linger too much longer. After I got dressed, I texted Willow. She responded quickly, though I didn’t much like her answer. She had a lab she had to finish tonight. It was due tomorrow.

  Me: Tomorrow?

  Willow: Tonight, but it will be late.

  Me: Cool. Text me.

  I might suffer the next morning during practice, but it was worth it. I was beginning to see why Kelley and Chance had become so addicted to their girls. I walked home, having ridden to practice with Chance and Sawyer. I grabbed a quick dinner I planned to eat in my room. I would study for a test I had on Friday.

  Good intentions and all that. Her text woke me.

  Willow: Another hour. Too late?

  I had to blink a few times to wake enough to answer.

  Me: No.

  Willow: My place.

  Me: An hour.

  Feeling groggy, I set an alarm. I figured I might as well sleep a little longer. There wouldn’t be any of that when I saw her.

  I set the book that had landed on my chest aside and closed my eyes again.

  My nightmare-free sleep was interrupted by something worse. Hands held me down after a dark sack was put over my head. I woke to utter darkness. Terror like I hadn’t known in years locked all my muscles.

  I fought off the little boy who feared a fate worse than death. But no hands moved past my shoulders and arms. A rag had been stuffed in my mouth and stopped any protest I migh
t have had. My arms were zip-tied at my back, the plastic biting into my skin. There was obviously more than one person as my attempts to get away were fruitless.

  Hands urged me up. That’s when I used my legs. Steel was pressed to my temple and a safety released. I stilled. Months ago I might have welcomed death with open arms. However, I couldn’t risk whatever this was spilling over to my friends.

  Compliant as a lamb headed to slaughter, I let them guide me to an uncertain fate. It wasn’t like they could do anything to me that hadn’t been done before. Then again, maybe I lacked imagination.

  For once in my life, I prayed like hell Chance, Sawyer, Shelly, and Brie were okay as I was marched through the silent house. Too silent.

  I was shoved in the back of what I assumed was a van. Whoever orchestrated this had to be a professional. No one had said one word.

  Once we were underway, I lost my bearings after the first few turns. Disoriented from the dark mask and rolling this way and that on a cold steel floor, my internal map had lost its way. We drove a while before we finally came to a stop.

  I was marched to my death for all I knew. The sad thing was, who would miss me? Sure, Chance, Kelley, and Sawyer would be sad for a minute. But they all had lives and would quickly move on. Willow… that thought made me stumble. Something in my chest tightened. I hadn’t known her long enough for my death to make an impact. She’d cry, for sure, but like the others would soon move on.

  The chair I was thrown into squeaked some under my weight. My arms were set free, only to be secured again to an oddly flat surface. I had a growing suspicion the chair wasn’t an ordinary one.

  Once that was done, my shirt was lifted and sticky probes with trailing wires were attached to my chest.

  Dim light filled my world when the hood was finally removed from my head. Once the rag was removed, I found myself sucking in lungfuls of air like I’d been suffocated.

  When the metal that had been aimed at me landed hard on a desk before me, I took stock of what I could see. It wasn’t much. The room was mostly hidden by shadows. The one man behind the computer was illumined by the screen he studiously watched. The other man was little more than a face though he stood.