Six Years

by Stephanie Witter

  Just before the door clicked closed after him, a sob broke free from me, taking me by surprise. The door came crashing open against the wall and Nolan sprinted back in, his eyes blazing on me as he ate the space between us.

  Watching Big No with his friend was different. He was different. His face was harder to read, his eyes held the kind of boredom I never saw when we're just the two of us and he said way more curses.

  "Keep it PG-rated Mike," Big No said to his friend with even bigger muscles than him. Big No waved at me still sitting on the chair at his desk littered with textbooks and papers with no apparent order.

  Mike laughed and punched him on the shoulder. "I'm sure she heard worse if you keep her around."

  "She's twelve fucking years-old." Big No glared at the guy and he lit a cigarette. He had never smoked around me and when the smoke hit me, it was like my lungs were burning up. Even my eyes were hurting. And the smell was awful.

  "Why is she here then?" Mike asked him as if I wasn't even in the same room. It was the third time I had seen him and I didn't like him very much.

  I scowled at him, but neither one of them glanced my way. "Because I was here before you, jerk."

  Both guys snapped their attention to me and I tried to hide my urge to bring a hand to my mouth and apologize. Instead, I sat straighter and defied that guy to say something. I was twelve and they were eighteen, but it was no reason to treat me that way. And I never let anyone bully me, even the slightest.

  "Little B!" Big No admonished me after he found back his composure. But I saw his mouth twitching upward. He wasn’t really mad.

  But it was Mike who surprised me the most. He laughed. Head thrown back and eyes closed, his laugh was free and contagious. I chuckled and relaxed. Finally. He calmed down and looked back at me, his focus intent on my face before he turned back to our friend.

  "She's cute. She's going to be a looker. I bet ya she'll be hard to follow. Ready for that, Big No?"

  For his only answer he groaned and brought the cigarette back to his mouth before his eyes locked on mine, unmoving and not blinking. I would give anything I had to know what he was thinking, but it was impossible and I hated it. Was he thinking about how young I was? Was he thinking about the next few years when we'll be apart? What was he thinking?

  "She's got more sense than to trust dicks like us," he replied after a while and I felt myself blush at the d-word.

  "At least she's still very innocent," laughed Mike when he saw my red face and suddenly I wanted to leave and lock myself up in the comfort of my room. There, I wouldn't feel so out of place, I wouldn't feel the gap between Big No and me as I felt it whenever he was with one of his friends.

  "I hate it when you two talk about me as if I’m not in the same room."

  "Sorry, Little B," Big No apologized immediately with a rueful smile.

  Mike scoffed but said nothing. Instead, he stood up and grabbed his car keys that were on the bed near the foot. "Sure you won't come tonight? Shannon will be there."

  Big No shook his head and put the finished cigarette in the ashtray on the bedside table. "'Not in the mood."

  Mike shrugged and nodded. With a wave over his shoulder, he walked out and I sighed. Big No heard me in the quiet room and chuckled. With his left hand, he tapped the mattress for me to join him as we were used to. I ran and jumped next to him, a large smile on my face. But when I smelt the smoke and tobacco on him, I cringed.

  "I prefer when you smell of body wash and yourself than that."

  He looked down at me and snaked an arm around my small shoulders. "You don't like me smoking?" he asked with a soft voice, something he never used in front of someone else. My Big No was back and only for me.

  "I hate it. And it's bad for you."

  "I won't smoke again then," he replied easily and kissed my forehead. "I don't want to disappoint you, my Little B."

  "You can't disappoint me."

  "How's that?"

  "You just can't."

  He leaned his head back against the bedpost and closed his eyes. "You don't know. Look at my mother. She hadn't always been like that."

  "It's different. You have your dreams and as long as you have them you'll do great."

  "It's freaky sometimes how older you sound. It's hard to always remember that you're so much younger."

  It was one of the best things he ever said to me. My heart was swelling and my smile couldn't be bigger.

  BROOKLYN

  He cupped my face between his big hands and his eyes bore into mine. Tears were falling down my face getting caught by his hands, but I wasn't sobbing. As soon as he came back inside my apartment, it stopped. But I didn't know what he was doing here and why he was looking at me this way, as if a big battle was raging inside him.

  His palms were soft and warm against my cheeks, his fingers long and tender when they lightly brushed my jaw and the beginning of my neck just below my ears. I wanted to touch him, to feel his own skin under my fingertips and trace the lines of his face so marked by the recent events, but I didn't. I was addicted to him enough as it was. If I touched him, I wouldn't stop.

  "Don't cry," he breathed out so very close to my face. Just a little closer and I'd feel his lips ghosting against mine. "It's like a punch in my guts when you cry."

  "You shouldn't touch me," I said, but despite my words, I didn't try to move away from his touch. A tear ran to my upper lip and I tasted it with the very tip of my tongue. Nolan's eyes darkened when he followed it, not straying from my mouth. I could see goosebumps over his skin on his neck and on his forearms. "Nolan?"

  Slowly, as if it cost him to do so, he looked up and brought his eyes back to mine. When I met his hazel eyes, their intensity knocked me. I stopped breathing altogether, or it felt like it as I got lost watching him. It was nothing, just a gaze slightly lower and yet, it sizzled between us, changed the outcome of this moment, sent the attraction and desire up the charts. Just a look.

  "Push me away then," he said with a voice so husky that my body answered right away to it. Desire pulled low in my belly and my breasts felt too full, begging for his attention I shouldn't even seek.

  "You, step away," I retorted slowly, my voice low and dripping with that need he was the only one to awake with such an intensity. But behind my words, I willed him to stay put, to maybe, touch me further, come closer. I knew it was wrong, I knew it was a betrayal to his girlfriend and I hated to think of myself as "the other girl", but it was Nolan.My Nolan.

  "Do you know you have the most kissable lips I've ever seen?" he asked me, his eyes lowering slowly to focus on my lips as if he was looking at suckable candy. Damn, that's hot. I licked at them self-consciously and the hitch in his breathing followed by the low groan from deep in his throat was enough to make me grip his forearms as his hands were still on my face. Skin to skin. Touching a face or forearms was innocent in itself, but not so much when our thoughts were hanging there between us and so very clear and indecent that just these tiny touches took a whole other meaning, a whole other implication. "They're lush and plump and beg for me to bite them until you moan my name and let me taste you." Our breathing was ragged and my whole body hummed like never before. It was going too far, but it felt so good... His words... I never expected him to talk like this, at least not to me. "You're messing with me, Brooklyn."

  "You have no idea what I want to do to you," I whispered out of breath, not seeing anything else but him. I let my hands run an inch higher on his forearms and his skin warmed some more. He shivered and I tightened my grip on him, afraid to lose this, whatever it was. "And you shouldn't know if you want to leave my apartment before the sun goes up."

  He brought his forehead against mine and we breathed the same air, slowly to try and find our composure. But it was impossible for me as long as he's so close to me. "You're ruining me."

  "Youruinedme."

  It should have forced him to pull away, but it didn't. Instead, so very slowly that I wondered if it wasn't a trick of my
mind as my desire for him skyrocketed, he brought his mouth to mine. He brushed his soft lips and his lip ring against mine with a barely there touch and my whole face tingled. Before he pulled away and ended the kiss, I ran my hands up his arms and clawed at his shoulders and pinned him there, against me. I intensified the contact of our lips and went above and beyond when I ran my tongue on his lower lip to bite on his lip ring. He opened his mouth on a quiet groan and he took the lead, determined and unashamed.

  His tongue lavished my mouth, mimicking what both of us wanted him to do with another part of him. I delved my fingers in his soft locks of hair, forceful as desperation hit me like a tow truck. I couldn't have enough of him and yet, I tried as I glued myself to his body, my heavy breasts flushed against his firm chest. His hands petted me, along my back, in my hair where he tugged hard to angle my face up and deepened the kiss. I let a deep moan escape.

  He broke the kiss and ran his lips and tongue along my jaw, nipping and nibbling along the way until he lavished on my neck, just behind my ear where I was sensible. But he didn't stop there. Instead, he resumed his exploration and kissed along my collarbone and down at the swell of my breasts, his scruff pickling my soft skin in the most delicious way. If before I thought I wanted him, it held nothing compared to how hard I wanted him now. It was even painful and harsh. Devastating.

  "Nolan," I begged him, but at this point I didn't know if I was begging him to stop or to do more. One thing was sure, though as my common senses deserted me, I didn't want him to leave me.

  "You feel so good," he said between kisses as his lips came back up to find my mouth with the same intensity. "I'm so hard."

  I wriggled closer to him. I needed to feel him, feel the proof of his desire for me, find some kind of relief. He grabbed my hips and helped me sit on his lap and in one swift move, he crushed me against his body, closer than before even. And I felt everything. Everything. He was hard against me, right where I was craving him and when I felt him through his jeans, a wave of pleasure hit me without mercy. I moaned in his mouth and tugged on his lip ring, clawing again at his shoulders, his t-shirt balled in my fists.

  "I need you," I panted between kisses. His hands explored me again as I writhed against him, feeling him between my legs. Every time we connected, we groaned or moaned, sharing the same breath and heated looks. His right hand shook when it finally went to my breast. I threw my head back and closed my eyes, arching into him. With his deft fingers he played with my taut nipple and I sighed, biting my lower lip to prevent another moan to escape me. "It's so good."

  "What are we doing?" he mumbled against my throat as he kissed me there, as heatedly as before. His hand never left my breast. With his other hand, he guided me to move against his hard length, never stopping.

  Doubts started to creep in, diminishing my pleasure. What were we doing, indeed? "Wa...wait, wait. Nolan!" I said first weakly, but more forceful when he seemed to be too far gone to hear me. I froze and he mimicked me then, one hand on my ass and the other on my breast. He looked up, his cheeks bright red with lust, eyes glazed and lips swollen. He looked like sex on legs and so very enticing, but what I also saw now was his blonde girlfriend. I could try to forget her as much as I wanted, she wouldn't disappear like this and I respected myself more than this, more than letting someone use me that way, even if it was Nolan. "What about her?"

  He blinked and his eyes cleared of the lust. He didn't need me to spell her name, he knew who I was talking about. I unclenched my fists and let the t-shirt free. It was wrinkled on the shoulders and for some insane reason, I focused on it. He pulled away from my breast still covered with my tank top, but kept his hand on my ass. Between my legs, I felt him as hard as before and I craved to move against him once again and feel the shots of pleasure so overwhelming, but it wasn't me. I wasn't shy with guys, I enjoyed sex as much as the next person, but I wouldn't be the one to come between two people. Even less when they were a couple. I’d already gone too far.

  "Wh...I..." he stuttered and tightened his grip on my hips when I tried to put some distance between us. "Don't move." His jaw clenched and he frowned as if in pain. His breathing came out in puffs, nostrils flared for a full minute after which he released me and I sat back on the couch, next to him. He had been a second away from losing his control and he was as perfect as someone could be in my eyes. His flaws only enticed me more. But not like that.

  The tingles over my body were now gone. I crossed my legs at my ankles and brought my knees up. I circled my arms around them for some comfort. He adjusted himself in his jeans and sighed, not looking at me. "At least don't tell me it's nothing because I'm too young or some bullshit to reassure yourself."

  He chuckled darkly and bit on his lip ring. It disappeared in his mouth before he let it jut out when he cleared his throat. "It's so fucking confusing."

  "And you're not free."

  He nodded and glanced at me from the corner of his eye, but I saw it as I was looking at him raptly. "And there's that stuff with my mother and I still have to finish a book I'm supposed to send to my publisher in two weeks at the latest. My life is a mess."

  I put my chin on my knee, still turned to face him, or his profile. "Life in general is a mess, but I get your point." I tried to relax my body that had stiffened as soon as I got my bearings back. But it didn't work. I was too wound up at this point. "Don't worry, I'm not going to make a scene. Just... Just don't come back here just for a booty call. You're not single and I can't do this."

  "I would never do this to you, Little B." He cringed at my nickname and it almost brought a smile back to my face. "Brooklyn I mean." He ran a hand on his cheek covered with a three or four day stubble so hot on him. "And I...I guess I need to talk with Lena."

  "Good luck."

  "I know you don't like her—and you have your reasons, I get it—but I swear she's not a bad girl."

  It was hard to believe that we went from the hottest make out session of my life to talking about his girlfriend. I was in the twilight zone. The worst was that he didn't even realize how hard it was on me, how painful it was. It appeared that I hid it better than I thought.

  "Maybe, but I'm sure she doesn't love you like she should."

  He gazed at me then, a long time without a word. His jaw was still clenched, but his shoulders were hunched over as if he had the weight of the world on them. "Because you think I love her as I should? I just made out with you, Brooklyn."

  "Are you trying to tell me that you don't love her?" I asked, hope swelling inside me, making my heart float in my chest and my lungs take more air into them.

  "I should go and talk to her,’’ he eluded and I didn't know what it meant. It could go both ways. He stood up and blushed when he saw my eyes land on his crotch where it was obvious that he was still turned on. The bulge was impressive and it made me blush too. He turned away from me and I was now looking at his round ass, tight and high, hugged by his distressed jeans, an expensive brand.

  With my stomach in my throat and a lump making it difficult to let my voice go through, I spoke up. "Tell me that you're not going to have sex with her tonight." I shouldn't ask that of him, it wasn't my place to, but thinking about him with her naked and hot was too much. I wouldn't know it if he did it with her as soon as he was back to his hotel room, but I would take his words for granted. I trusted him and I needed this.

  "I told you that nothing happened with her since I saw you again," he replied without turning around. "I can't shake you out of my head and what happened here won't help."

  "So what?"

  "I don't know, Brooklyn. I don't have all the answers. It's fucked up, I'm fucked up and... I don't know!"

  A fresh tear fell silently and I tightened my arms around my legs, trying to ease my shaking. It wasn't working, but at least, I was breaking down in silence without him noticing. "Just go."

  He nodded and walked out. The door crashed closed behind him and I closed my eyes, alone. Behind my eyelids, I saw him again with the
desire all over his face and his amazing body, I heard his low groans and moans, I felt the ghost of his touch on me. He was still with me, and yet, he was too far. Gone. And never mine to have. I knew it, but I fell back time and time again.

  * * *

  NOLAN

  I had never had a big opinion for myself. I had always thought I’d be a fuck up, that I’d be disappointed like always by life and people. But at this very moment, I knew it. I wasn’t a good man, not well-adjusted.

  I was dating a girl I didn’t feel much or anything for but considering the time I had spent with her envisioned going the next step with her, following her lead and her not so veiled hints. That in itself was pretty bad, but I had been deluding myself for a while, thinking that the soft warmth and attachment I felt for Lena was what was supposed to be love. But it wasn’t or else I wouldn’t have been all over Brooklyn these last few days, I wouldn’t have felt that kind of insane attraction.

  I wanted Brooklyn.

  The worst?

  I didn’t want her just for the sex even though I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t at the forefront of my mind. No, I wanted her beside me, supporting me, comforting me, helping me with my mother. Brooklyn had always been my happy place and over the years the nature of my feelings toward her had changed. But I didn’t know if it was for the best or not. At this point, I could barely picture her as a little girl. All I could see was the young woman she became.

  "Where's Mike?" I asked falsely nonchalant. I wanted to make sure that Mike wouldn't barge in and ruin our night in. He was around so much these last few weeks that I constantly felt like the third wheel. It was upsetting.

  "On a date," he answered distractedly as he was still writing in his notebook, old fashioned style. "If you can call it a date," he added lower, but I heard him and it picked my curiosity.

  "What do you mean?"

  He froze mid-word and turned around to face me, his back now to the desk and his open notebook. His black pen was still in his hand and he fidgeted with it. Apparently, it wasn't something he was comfortable telling me. I wanted to know even more.