Destruction: The Distraction Trilogy #2

by Murphy, A. E.

  Her lips slant over mine. I taste the sweet alcohol and all the flavours that are her. Pulling her tight to me, I laugh against her closed mouth before licking the seam of her lips and finally pushing my tongue against hers.

  Hayley cheers over the music, but I don’t care. This is my moment. Any guys interested in Elle now know she’s taken and is all mine. I solidify this statement by cupping her arse and tilting her back slightly so I can take better control of the kiss.

  Elle giggles and pulls away, her eyes sparkling with humour and longing. “Dance with me.”

  Eloise

  When he relents and actually does as I’ve asked, I feel like cheering but instead I let him spin me around to the beat and pull me in close.

  I watch him begin to relax. I watch as his reservations vanish and I watch as he finally begins to enjoy the night.

  The crowd thickens and the music gets louder. The lights flash across us all as foam is shot into the air, causing large droplets of the stuff to rain down upon us.

  We keep moving, grinding, grabbing, laughing as we move together.

  Nobody else matters. All that matters is that we don’t care about the age gap; we don’t care if people care about us; all we care about is each other.

  “Sick,” I choke out and race into the bathroom opposite our bedroom.

  Isaac groans but follows, even though I try to wave him away. He doesn’t leave; he holds my hair back as I spill the contents of my hangover into the porcelain throne.

  “Kill me,” I murmur, in between bokes.

  Isaac rinses out a flannel and gently wipes my face and mouth, before guiding me to the sink to brush my teeth.

  I take a good look at myself, assessing my messy hair, swollen eyes and the dark red hickeys on my neck. I don’t remember getting those.

  “Have a shower; I’ll make breakfast.” Isaac says, kissing the curve of my shoulder softly before planting a kiss over each mark on my neck. “Normally I find these things repulsive, but on you…? It’s like my name tag in a place everyone can see. That’s sexy.”

  “Caveman,” I snap, shrugging him off as he laughs. “Nothing heavy.”

  “Huh?”

  “For breakfast, nothing heavy.”

  He grins wickedly. “Screw that! After last night you need a full English and about five glasses of ice cold orange juice.”

  “I’ll take toast and some Gaviscon.”

  He grins and leaves the room, leaving me to shower and dress myself. How the hell I manage it, I have no idea. My entire body feels like one large lump of limbless lead. The hot spray of the shower does little to soothe me and dressing in clean clothes only reminds me of how badly I want to be undressed and in bed.

  I don’t bother with makeup. There’s no point, as I can smell the bacon Isaac is cooking and if he makes me eat it, I’ll probably just vomit again anyway.

  How the hell did we get home last night?

  I spot my bra on the stairs as I descend them and find my shirt by the door.

  Where are the rest of my clothes?

  “Isaac?” I call, padding into the kitchen as he sings along to a song on the radio and flips the frying eggs in the pan. “What happened last night?”

  “Do you mean before or after your three shots of Sambuca and two shots of Tequila?”

  Oh my God. “You’re joking? I drank that much?”

  I vaguely remember one of the guys bringing over a tray full of shot glasses, each full to the rim with different coloured liquids. I’m pretty sure they chanted my name, but I can’t quite grasp the memory to figure out why. All I succeed in doing is giving myself a headache.

  “Oh yeah. It was okay, though. You were really… sweet.”

  Why don’t I believe him? I narrow my eyes and place my hands on my hips. “Tell me what I did!”

  “Nope.”

  “Isaac,” I whine. “Just tell me.”

  He sniggers under his breath and flips the eggs onto the two plates, adding beans and carrying them to the table. His hands grasp my shoulders and he guides me to my seat.

  I sit, my lips pouting and my eyes still narrowed. Annoyance is what I feel right now as he continues singing, takes his seat opposite and grabs a slice of toast from the plate between us.

  “You were very loving,” he adds as I pick at my food, basically pushing it around my plate with my fork. “So loving. It was sweet.”

  “They don’t care.” A memory of my voice suddenly pierces through the fog in my brain and I remember arms tight around me, holding me tight as my hands fumbled at… “Oh my God!”

  “What?”

  “The ride home. I… did I?”

  He shakes his head, smirking evilly. “Nope, but you gave it your best shot.”

  “I…” I feel my face pale dramatically as I think back to how I begged and pleaded with Isaac to let me suck his cock in the back of the minibus. There is something seriously wrong with me. “Why the hell did you let me drink so much?”

  “Don’t blame me for your idiocy. You wanted to drink. I didn’t want to spoil your night, so I let you. Besides, you were safe with me.”

  “My body was safe with you; my mind however…”

  “Shut up, you were funny. Everyone was drunk. Hayley was worse than you. She decided she liked the DJ and tried climbing over the booth to get to him.”

  I wince. That sounds exactly like something I’d stop Hayley from doing. “And then we got thrown out?”

  “Yep and we went to The Embassy clubs and got even more drunk. By two in the morning you couldn’t walk. You wanted to go home and screw my brains out.” I glare at his choice of wording. “Your words, not mine.” I turn my glare inward and mentally punch myself. “Which you did, by the way. You started stripping in the driveway.”

  “And you didn’t stop me?”

  “I managed to tame you for twenty seconds, but you were all over me before I could get the key in the door.”

  “You don’t have to look so smug.”

  He chuckles and finishes off his plate. I still haven’t touched mine. “I had one of the best sexual experiences of my life last night. I’m going to look this smug for a really long time.”

  My hands clench as another image flashes through my mind.

  My hands were in Isaac’s hair, pulling roughly so I could bite his neck. We were on the stairs. He was sitting and I straddled him and…

  “I don’t even want to remember anymore.” I mutter as I remember throwing my bra into the darkness before ripping a hole in my tights and sinking onto him. My entire body felt numb, yet it also felt so alive and tingly. It was strange but also amazing.

  “Elle, fuck, Elle, don’t… don’t stop.” His deep, rough and desperate sounding voice swims between my ears as I recall another memory, this one of me riding him hard and fast without holding back.

  He winks at me and takes my hand across the table. “It was amazing. I’m glad we went. At first I know I was mardy and I’m sorry, but I was out of my comfort zone.”

  Sighing deeply, I abandon my breakfast and move around the table to sit on his lap. As my arms wrap around his neck, I remember what we did on this table last night. “I’m a whore.”

  “Shut up.” He grins broadly and kisses my lips softly. “Do you have to go today?”

  “If you don’t take me today, how will I get back tomorrow?”

  He lets out a long breath and nods solemnly. “Yeah, I know. We should get ready.”

  “I love you.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  Isaac

  I glance at Elle through the corner of my eye as she rests her head against the window, clearly still feeling majorly hung-over. I’m not surprised. She drank way too much last night. I wasn’t lying, though, when I said that I was sorry for being mardy. I genuinely had an amazing time, minus the few times she got chatted up.

  I wouldn’t expect anything less. She is absolutely gorgeous and I definitely understand the appeal. I just wish she didn’t get as much attention
as she does. It worries me. What if one day she decides to take a man up on his offer?

  I push that thought away, deciding with a determined finality that I have to trust her and I have to trust us. I can’t keep smothering her like I have been doing and I have to stop this ridiculous jealousy I feel from destroying the blissful experience that the first year of our marriage should be.

  I’m the root of the problem, she’s right. I’m the one who’s been lying and sneaking around behind her back, not the other way around.

  Those days are over though.

  Totally and completely over. From now on I’ll try harder. It’s only for another year or so and then I can go back to teaching, I hope. There’s no way I’ll do this job forever, even if it means convincing my dad to bring mum so I can work in a different school. He’s retiring in two years anyway, or when he decides it’s best to leave work.

  My phone rings as we’re driving along the motorway and I let Elle answer.

  “Hello?” Her face falls. “Dad… yeah, I’m okay.” She chews on her lip as she listens to what he’s saying. “No, he’s just driving me back. Why?” My hands clench on the steering wheel. I hate that guy with a passion. “Maybe because I don’t want to.” Her tone is rising; she’s not happy. “Because… yes I know… I don’t care.” Growling loudly, she hangs up the call and slams my phone on the console.

  “Try not to break it; we can’t afford to replace it.” I wink at her and look back to the road. “What’s wrong?” I can feel her bad mood in the air. It doesn’t feel good so I reach for her hand and bring it to my lips. “Tell me.”

  “He’s asking why I haven’t called. Nothing interesting.” Leaving her hand in mine, she leans to the side and rests her forehead against my arm. “I don’t want to talk to him.”

  I don’t want her to talk to him, but I kind of need her to. “He was just looking after you.”

  “Right.”

  “Okay, Miss Sarcastic.”

  “He just winds me up. He stabbed you; he punched you! He’s a complete arse.”

  She’s right. “I know, but he’s trying to make amends.” I’m lying through my teeth but I don’t really have a choice. “He loves you in his own crazy way.”

  “He’s a psycho.”

  “Yep.” I’m not going to defend him on that, because it’s true. He’s a total psycho. “Just try, that’s all he’s asking.”

  “I don’t want to. I’m not ready.”

  Well, she needs to be ready or my life is going to be hell. “Okay, in your own time.”

  “Since when did you become his best buddy anyway?”

  I roll my eyes. “I’m not his best anything. He hates my guts but he misses you.”

  “He invited us both for dinner tonight.” She grins wickedly. “It’s a shame we’re already nearly in Cambridge.”

  “Such a shame,” I add, my smile equally as wicked as hers. “I’m staying tonight. I know I said I should get back, but if you continue to answer my phone your dad won’t push for me to work tomorrow.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.” I’m not quite ready to leave her yet.

  “Yay.” She kisses my shoulder, turns up the volume on the radio and sits up so she can tap her hands and bob her head to the music.

  It seems she’s back to her old self again. I like it.

  Chapter Ten

  Eloise

  I throw my bag across my room and run my fingers through my hair. “God fucking damn it all to hell!”

  “Whoa!” My bedroom door opens and Jordan pops his head around. “Are you okay?”

  “I’ve been fired… FIRED!”

  He winces and pushes the door open fully. “Shit.”

  “All because I didn’t show up to work yesterday on the hour. I was fifteen minutes late.” I kick my shoes off and watch the snow that was clinging to the top burst all over my carpet. “It’s not my fault.”

  “Yeah, the snow is about an inch thick out there on top of a shit ton of ice.” Jordan leans against the door, his hand resting on the handle. “Your boss is a bit of a bitch though.”

  I nod slowly; he’s not wrong. “She hates me.”

  “Did she call you and tell you?”

  “Nope, she fucking texted me while I was in class.” I stomp past my roommate and move to the couch. I search for his alcohol stash and find an opened bottle of vodka, but he rips it from my hand before I can even get the lid off. “Oh, come on! If anybody needs a drink right now, it’s me.”

  “I totally agree, but you need to calm down first. Call your husband; have a shower or something and then we can drink your sorrows away. During that time, I’ll add this to that bag of jelly sweets that we have in the cupboard.”

  My brows furrow. “What?”

  “If you add vodka and cordial to a bowl full of jelly sweets and leave them in the fridge for an hour, they absorb it. It’s the best alcoholic snack in the world.”

  Blink. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  He grins the panty dropping grin that I’m finally starting to get used to and sets about making the vodka sweets as I pull out my phone and contemplate whether or not I should call Isaac. He needs to know, because I’m running low on cash. I have one more pay day but, because I missed two weeks of work last month over the Halloween period, it won’t be much.

  Fuck.

  Shit.

  “Do you have a newspaper?”

  Seconds later I feel one hit the back of my head, followed by a manly snigger. Throwing my phone on the couch, I grab the newspaper and go straight to the jobs section. I circle and call, circle and call, circle and call.

  Nothing.

  Fuck.

  “I’ll speak to my manager and see if we can’t save you a slot where I work,” Jordan says softly and pats my hand.

  I thank him and pick my phone back up. “I don’t want to call him. I don’t want to rely on him.”

  “Shit happens, Elle. I don’t think he’ll mind. If I were in his position and you were my girl in a tight spot, I wouldn’t be mad. I’d just do what I have to do.”

  I grin at my friend. “Yeah, you’re going to make an awesome boyfriend one day. That’s if your dick doesn’t drop off before your time comes.”

  “Thank you for basically calling me a slut.” He laughs a little and stands. “I’ll give you some privacy while you make the call.”

  “That’s okay, you stay. I’ll go to my room.” I quickly call Isaac before I can chicken out and rush into my room.

  He doesn’t answer, so I leave him a voicemail explaining what’s happened and asking him to call me back. I assume he’s still at work. I just hope he’s not mad at me. It really wasn’t my fault.

  “I’ve ordered pizza.”

  I blanch and step back into the living room. “I umm…”

  “I ordered a large one, so feel free to share. No payment necessary.” Jordan winks and pats the couch beside him. “You’ll be alright.”

  I nod, trying my hardest to believe him but failing. “Thanks, Jordan. Are those sweets ready yet?”

  “Forty minutes minimum.”

  “Ugh.” I have no patience right now. “Time sucks.”

  “Yes it does.” He turns on the TV and flicks immediately to the music channels, something we can both enjoy. “That Nikki really does have a large arse, don’t you think?”

  I tilt my head and look at the female on the screen. “Yup.”

  “I wonder if people with arse implants have to avoid ice skating and shit, because the results probably won’t be great if they fall backwards.” He makes an explosion noise with his mouth and uses his hands to make it more visual.

  Okay, so it’s a little bit funny. “You’re an idiot.”

  “A slut and an idiot? I’m rethinking my pizza generosity.”

  Isaac

  I replay the voicemail message and calm the heavy beat of my heart.

  Another bill added to the bills we can barely afford. My work hours have been cut down due to the
building work now being stuff I can’t and don’t have the license to do.

  I stare at my phone and curse under my breath.

  We’ll make do; it’s not a serious issue.

  Isaac: How much do you need?

  Eloise: About one fifty minimum in two weeks. Is that okay?

  Isaac: Yeah, it just means Christmas will be a tight one this year.

  Eloise: I’m sorry :-(

  Isaac: It’s fine, we have a lifetime of Christmases to go crazy.

  Eloise: Yeah :-)

  Isaac: We’ll get by; don’t worry. Just keep looking for a job.

  Eloise: I already am, promise.

  I send a quick text to Stan asking him if he has any more hours for me, but unfortunately I don’t get a response.

  This isn’t good. Not at all.

  “Please stop pacing,” I say to my dad as he does just that, back and forth in the living room.

  Mum’s head does the same as mine; it moves side to side as we watch his movements. It would be comical if the situation weren’t so dire.

  People at the school have started asking my father about my relationship with Eloise. It’s not a great situation, but it’s not a bad one either. They can’t prove anything and, even if they do report me, it’s not like I’ll go to prison. I’ll lose my teaching license but it doesn’t matter at this point. It’s not like I can use it anyway and if that’s the case I’ll just study something else, maybe turn my English and literacy writing degree into a career in editing. I could do that. I’d need a course or two, but I could definitely see myself doing that.

  It wouldn’t be the same as teaching though.

  “You’re giving us whiplash,” I tell him as Mum mutters to herself under her breath, no longer interested in her pacing husband. I don’t blame her. He gets worked up a lot these days. I don’t blame him for that either; he’s under a lot of pressure.