He gasps and steps back, grabbing at his chest. “Who told you that? Did James tell you?”
“You told me when you were drunk, you idiot. You told me how you cheated on her. How you’re just like my pathetic drug addict father who always cheated on my mom and she never left him. He dragged her down right along with him for love. She chose him over her daughters. She left us alone in our house for a month with no food or money before Social Services came to get us. I was thirteen the last time I saw my parents. Because my dad is like you!” I stab at his chest with my finger. “Every man is just like him. You’re all pathetic, ungrateful, horrible creatures! That’s why I’m still a virgin. I refuse to let any of you touch me. In fact, I’m never touching another man like you again for the rest of my life.”
His mouth hangs open and shock widens his eyes. “Raina…I didn’t know. I’m sorry. That’s some heavy shit.”
“Don’t touch me!” I screech when he reaches for me. I wildly avoid him, dropping what’s in my hands and fighting him off. “Don’t touch me!”
“Stop fighting me,” he orders sharply, wrapping my flailing body in his arms. “I wasn’t always like this. I would never want to hurt you. That’s why we have to stop this. Stop us. I’ll hurt you. You don’t deserve that. Do you want me to hurt you?”
He doesn’t deserve an answer.
I refuse to move in his arms for fear I will hug him back. I can’t hug him, despite how good his arms feel wrapped around me. Sometimes when I lose it I remember how even though I have Becca I still secretly yearn for someone to hold me together; for someone to hold on while I fall. But this man isn’t mine to hug. He’s Willow’s, and every other girl’s.
“I’m not your father,” he insists when I continue to fight him. “I’m not me right now either. You really want this guy?” He releases my body and grabs my face between his hands, holding me in place so he can crush me. “This womanizing prick who only wants to make women burn?”
“Let me go. We’re friends. Fine. Whatever.” I feel so drained. So completely empty.
“But you don’t want to be my friend.”
“I want the opposite of friendship from you,” I reveal bitterly. “I want kisses that aren’t in a bathroom or when I’m drunk. I want hugs when you’re sober and when I’m not upset. I want a man who makes me feel happy for once. Not miserable. All you do is make me miserable.” Tears stream down my face. “And yet I still want those kisses. I need them. I want those hugs. They feel like they’re the only things holding me together.” My chest rises and falls rapidly at my admission. I don’t understand half of it, but then again I don’t need to for it to be real. “But I also know you’re not going to give that to me. You’re not worth the misery. So just let me go. Please, Kent, let me go.”
He knows what I’m asking. He holds on to me for a little longer. I wonder why if he’s still in love with Willow. But in the end Kent drops his arms and takes a step back, doing exactly what I knew he would.
“I was right. You do deserve better than the couch. You deserve someone who can make you feel as good as you deserve, who kisses you and doesn’t think about their ex. Who can appreciate the goodness that’s inside of you. You deserve someone just like you, Rain.”
I lean against the counter and bury my face in my hands. “I was doing so good ignoring my feelings for you. I almost convinced myself there weren’t any. I can do it again.”
“Can you?”
I nod determinedly. “We barely know each other. You’re just a guy. I can do it again.”
“Just a guy…” He shakes his head bitterly. “If that’s what you want me to be then that’s what I am. I’m just a guy.”
“That isn’t what I meant.”
“No.” He smiles sadly but his eyes are tight. “Go on, baby. I’m just a guy and you’re the first girl I’ve wanted since Willow. You’ll never be just a girl to me.” He leaves me.
I stare after him, torn. If I follow, this will drag out. We’ll end up in the swimming pool again and someday he’ll leave me right where I am. Alone, confused, and empty. If I remain still, by myself like I’ve always been, I can prevent that heartache. Heartache seems to be all Kent can give me. Then why the hell do I still want him? Is what I want right? Have my fears been wrong this entire time?
No. Absolutely not. What I want has gotten me this far. There’s no way I’m going against it by questioning it now. I suck it up, pull up my big girl panties, and promise myself Kent will never rip another pair off.
The idea saddens me in a way that hurts not only my heart, but the confident sexy woman Kent brought out in me.
I need something to do or I will sit here driving myself crazy.
I raid the fridge and prepare the fixings for Becca’s favorite comfort meal. There’s frozen chicken in the freezer and I start unthawing it in some water. As it unthaws I cut potatoes so I can get them boiling. The tedious actions of preparing fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and a homemade scratch gravy keep me busy. By the time I’m done both Kent and James have emerged from their rooms, sniffing like starving wolves.
James raises his eyebrows at Kent and signs something.
Kent signs back.
Together they have a silent heated conversation. I can’t pick up anything because for once they refuse to even mouth their words; which means they’re probably talking about me. I ignore them both and start dipping plates. When the table is set, Kent and I sit across from each other.
James sits next to me, sneaking glances like he knows exactly what is, or isn’t, going on between us. “This is good,” he announces, signing thank you.
I grip his fingers. “Thank you, James.”
Kent shifts in his seat. “Thanks for cooking, Rain.”
“You’re welcome, Kent.” This is all we’ll ever have. Genial comments that are hollow and meaningless. It makes my eyes sting. I bite my tears back and force myself to remember that if Kent and I succumbed to this attraction and he gave me what I thought I wanted, I’d be him someday when he left me. I’d drink myself away with strangers and pass out in the bathroom naked. There won’t be someone to take care of me the way I took care of him.
“Just friends,” he mutters, and then, “bullshit,” under his breath. “Aren’t you sweet suddenly? Why don’t you hold his hand longer?”
“I’m always sweet.”
“Sure, Rain. We’ll see how sweet you are when I have my fingers in some other bitch’s pussy.”
Fire moves over me. “Did you just call me a bitch?”
He takes a bite of his chicken and winks evilly, not taking it back. “Good chicken. You’re going to make some man a lucky wife one day. He’ll get that sweet smile you give sometimes when you think I’m not looking. Or that cute exasperated frown you have right now. He’ll get it all because he’s not just a guy to you.”
“Be careful.”
“Or what? I’m who you wanted me to be. Some pathetic asshole that fell for your bullshit.”
“You fell for my bullshit?” I am flabbergasted. “You’re delusional.”
James’s eyes dart from Kent and to me. He can tell something’s up, but when I talk he’s looking at Kent and he can’t pick up on the words being said. I’m glad. I don’t want him to hear this.
“A virgin,” he grumbles, disgusted. “If you were a slut I’d have your ass pinned against the wall right now. That smart-ass mouth would be begging me for more.”
“You sure you have more to give?” I take a bite and chew, raising my eyebrow condescendingly. “And don’t say slut. Sluts don’t exist, unless their name is Kent Nicholson.”
“Sluts exist. Your friend Samantha’s a slut. You want to know what she told me? How she begged me to fuck her from behind?”
“Did you?”
“I did.” He licks gravy from his spoon. “She came like they all do. Like you did. You wanted more, didn’t you, Rain?”
“Yes, I wanted more. I wanted everything you had to give me. I wanted you inside of me
.” I place my palms flat against the table.
“Oh shit,” he mumbles, caught off guard. He licks his lips and runs a hand through his hair, giving James a huge naughty smile. “Great dinner, huh?”
“Hmm,” James mutters, eyes narrowed at Kent. “If Raina moves out, so do I.”
Kent’s smile falls. “Rain’s not going anywhere. Are you?” His expression is slightly worried, yet he’s still very much an a-hole. “She won’t leave.”
“We can get an apartment together,” James suggests, looking at me.
I smile at him. “That would be great.”
“No!” Kent slams his fist on the table as if shouting isn’t enough. “Rain’s staying and so are you, you prick. Tell him, Rain. You’re not moving out. You’re not leaving me too.”
I open my mouth to deny him but his eyes are hectic. “I’m not moving out,” I assure them.
“We’re throwing her a party tonight. Call all your friends.” He grins. “Oh wait, I already live here.”
James gives him an evil look.
“I don’t want a party. I don’t need to drink again.”
“I like you better drunk. You’re fun.” He winks at me. “That tightness gave you away. I’ve never been with a girl that tight before. I bet it’d be mind-blowing to be inside of you.”
What a disgusting pig. “Can I invite whoever I want?”
His mouth thins. “Sure. Whoever you want. It’s your party.”
My brain screams at me. Another night of drinking? What’s wrong with you? Telling my brain to shove it, I employ James’s help with the dishes. Kent disappears to prepare for the party. A party I know is going to blow up in both our faces.
“Will you hang out tonight?” I ask James, tapping on his shoulder so he can see my mouth. “I think you owe me a dance for dinner.”
“I don’t know how to dance.”
“I’ll teach you.”
“Are you staying?” he asks, appearing sad.
I cross my heart. “I promise—if you dance with me.”
He grumbles.
I take it as a yes. When the dishes are done I head toward my room, noticing that Kent’s door is open and his deep voice carries into the hall.
“I can’t come home, Mom. I have school. Don’t worry about it. School’s fine. Yeah, no more drinking. Mhm, no more partying. No, I’m not dating anyone.” His voice changes. It becomes dark and hoarse. “I used to be, you remember her? How is Willow? Oh, that’s great to hear. Tell her I dream about wringing her neck when I sleep. Those are daydreams. You should hear about my nightmares. Why do you have to bring her up? You always bring her up. Do you have any idea what he took from me? Everything!” he erupts. “I can’t even fall for other girls because of her. I want to fall and then I remember the second I do they’re going to do the same thing to me. You’re so happy for him. I’m not coming home as long as those two are there. Yup. Love you too.”
I quickly duck into my bedroom before he finds me eavesdropping. What does his mother want him home for, and why would she want to put him anywhere near Willow? If a woman broke my son’s heart she’d better run, not come to dinner. Something bothers me about it, but we’re not in a talking kind of mood.
I sit on my bed and grab my phone, scrolling through my text messages for Trevor’s number. After hearing Kent talk about Willow I feel slightly evil for doing this, but not so evil I change my mind. How dare he talk to me that way after I spent the entire night taking care of him? He’s the one who said he wasn’t the right guy for me, and then he gets mad when I agree? What kind of logic was that? Probably the male kind.
I ignore a text from Becca.
Becca: Have you exploded yet?
She had no idea.
I find Trevor’s text, take a deep breath, and then do it.
Me: What are you doing tonight?
Trevor: Hopefully hanging out with you.
I quickly text back before I lose my cool. As I do my stomach turns and my hands tremble. This isn’t me.
Me: I’m having a party tonight. Want to come?
Trevor: I would love to come.
Me: Is it weird we barely know each other?
Trevor: We’ll get to know each other tonight. I promise. ;)
What is he winking at?
Right before I text back, Kent barges into my room. He eyes me, my guilty look, and cocks his handsome head to the side. He looks freshly showered. His blond hair is styled and he looks so good in a pair of red jeans and a black shirt. His black high-top sneakers only add to the appeal.
“What are you up to?” he accuses.
I decide not to lie. “I’m talking to Trevor.” I watch his reaction like a hawk.
His entire face turns as red as his jeans. His mouth thins and he touches his stomach as if it hurts. “We’re playing like that?” he growls, eyes leaking their evil all over my bedroom. “You’re going to lose. You’re going to lose harder than I win.”
“Who say’s we’re playing? You don’t want me. You want Willow, and Auburn Hair, and girls like Samantha. Why can’t I be with a man who actually wants me? And Trevor wants me, Kent. He’s practically begging for it.”
His expression is pure wild rage. “You are such a…” He can’t or won’t finish. “All right, Rain. You want Trevor, you have him. I’m just a guy to you. Remember one thing. You’re just a girl. I can have whoever I want in place of you.”
“You’ve shown that already. Get out of my room. I have to get dressed.”
Why are we hurting each other? Why does the idea of adding to our pain make it seem less real?
“What are you going to wear?” He opens my dresser and starts rummaging through my clothes. He picks a pair of ripped jeans in a size too big, missing most of the jewels on the pocket, and a tunic style shirt that makes me look like a bag. “This is perfect.”
I roll my eyes and text Trevor my address.
I don’t know what’s gotten into me. Logic suggests this isn’t going to go well. I’m usually a logical person. I’m not operating with my brain. I’m operating with my emotions, something I never do, because I know your emotions can be misleading. Like right now. I want to make Kent suffer the way he has me. I know it isn’t right of me. It’s not even fair. Involving Trevor is going to backfire. I know these things. Yet I can’t stop myself. Last night Kent took something from me. He showed me my fears were fears regardless of how true they were. My wants were wants regardless of whether I could have them.
I resent him for that.
I resent Kent for being exactly who I can’t have.
As he sets out another hideous outfit I call Sam and invite her to the party. She agrees instantly. I have a feeling why, and he’s staring at me in disgust. Next I call Sophie.
“What’s up, drunky? Did you get laid last night?”
I lie on my back, ignoring Kent’s eyes on me. “Sort of.”
She hoots. “You’re welcome.”
“I said sort of. What are you doing tonight?”
“Nothing. My boyfriend has to work. Why?”
“I’m having a party. I want you to come.”
She laughs. “You don’t sound like you’re happy about it.”
“Sam said she’d pick you up. And stop reading my mind, witch. Leave your tricks at home.”
“I plan on making you happy about it,” she warns with an evil chuckle.
“Bye, Sophie.” I hang up and toss my phone on bed.
“Sophie’s going to get you into trouble. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
“You got me into trouble,” I point out. “Get out. I want to get dressed.”
He ignores my words and lies next to me, turning his face toward me. Our noses almost touch and I can smell mint on his breath. His lips look unbearably inviting. I want what we had last night.
Reaching over tentatively, I touch them, dragging my fingertips over his smooth supple flesh. “I want to kiss you.”
Sadness enters his eyes. “I’m not good at this, Ra
in.” His words whisper against my fingertips. “I never have been.”
Leaning over slowly, so he can pull away if he wants, I press my lips to his, inhaling the taste of mint on his breath. “Me neither.”
His hand touches my lower back, pulling me closer. “I can’t believe I can’t have this.”
I’m glad there will be alcohol to forget him. Is this what he feels? This overwhelming desire to forget? When did I start running from Kent Nicholson? Probably about the same time he answered the front door wearing nothing but a pair of black jeans. I recall that man. All he wanted was a wing-woman. He warned me not to fall for him. I gave him everything he never wanted. But the same could be said for him. We are so wrong for each other.
I have to get over him, forget his effect on me and the taste of his lips. I bolt off the bed and tap his foot. “Out.”
He doesn’t move. He simply watches me and then puts his hands behind his head and stretches out his long body on my bed. “No.”
I give up and go to my dresser. I sift through my clothes and pick a pair of pink denim shorts. I find my black top that shows off my belly a little, and couple the outfit with my black thong and bra.
Turning my back to Kent, I begin to undress. I’m not wearing any panties and my t-shirt bra is thin and barely there.
“Your ass is beautiful,” he compliments. “Your tiny waist too. Honestly, Rain? Your body tortures me.”
I can feel his eyes all over my body as I undo my bra. I shove his words out of my brain. I am standing completely naked in front of Kent Nicholson. That nefarious hunger is back. It knows Kent’s here and it wants him. I turn around and grab my clean panties, stepping into them as I attempt to keep my back to his.
“Interesting,” his deep voice rumbles.
“What’s interesting?”
“You shave. I noticed it last night, but your lack of pubic hair wasn’t on the top of my list of concerns. Your tight pussy, however, made the top of my list.”
My Sweet Demise (Demise #1) Page 15