Because I Love You

by Tori Rigby

  Neil trickled his hands down my sides as we continued to kiss, and with each inch his palms moved, the more my body ached for him. Then he slipped his hands under the back of my shirt and caressed my spine, and I moaned loudly. Neil swore, his voice breathy. He kissed my neck, and my legs trembled. I dug my fingers into his back and arched mine, pressing my chest against his. I drank in the feel of his lips on my skin. Goosebumps rose on every inch.

  He kissed up to my earlobe. “Please tell me if I go too far.”

  I nodded, and his lips found mine again. Gently, he pushed me against the kitchen counter. My fingertips stroked his chest and abs. His muscles flexed under my caress. Neil pulled me closer. Our hips touched. I felt his excitement and moved forward involuntarily, my body yearning for him with a passion that surpassed all words in my brain. Neil groaned and ripped my sweater over my head, his gaze wandering.

  Unease pitted in my gut. He was seeing my naked stomach for the first time, my small bump distended over my low-cut jeans. Please don’t be grossed out. Please don’t turn away. My hands shook. Nausea swam in my stomach. My eyes burned. But then he kissed my shoulder, and his hands wandered down my back and around my rib cage, stopping on the sides of my belly.

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispered.

  Why those two words unraveled me, I didn’t know. I blamed it on pregnancy hormones. But hearing him say them in the midst of such an intimate moment overwhelmed me. I cried—not a sob, like I’d spent the first three months doing, but quiet and happy, where a few tears rolled down my face while I half-wept, half-laughed.

  Neil jerked his hands to my face in seconds and took my cheeks in his palms. He wiped away the tears with his thumbs.

  “Hey, I’m sorry. Damn it; I told you to warn me if I went too far.” He pressed his forehead against mine. “Baby, please don’t cry.”

  I put my hands on his neck. “I’m not upset.”

  Pulling back just far enough that he could look at my face, Neil seemed to notice, for the first time, I was smiling. His eyebrows furrowed.

  Answering his question before he could ask, I placed one of his hands back on my belly and said, “I was so afraid you were going to run away, but you told me I was beautiful.”

  Neil closed his eyes, sighing, and tightened his arms around me. I rested my cheek on his chest. The left side, where the tattoo was. Right over his heart.

  “Andie, I can’t begin to tell you what it feels like every time you walk into a room. There aren’t enough words. But you’ve got to know by now: I love you. I have since the third grade, and I always will.”

  I beamed, hearing the words leave his lips for the first time.

  “I love you, too,” I replied, meaning them with all my soul. I couldn’t say it to Carter the night my life changed, and I was glad to have saved those words for Neil. Because my heart had never hammered so hard, and never before had three little words made me want to run marathons. But with Neil, I felt like I could take on the world.

  He snuggled me closer and kissed the top of my head. I listened to his pulse beating fast in his chest.

  “So, not to ruin the moment, but your boobs are almost naked and touching me, and I’m having a really hard time keeping my hands to myself,” he said.

  With a roll of my eyes, I stepped out of his hold. I picked up his shirt and tossed it in his face. He smiled a goofy grin, and I put on my own sweater, trying to hide the blush in my cheeks.

  chapter twenty-three

  Two weeks later, Mom and I had the house pretty well-packed, except for a small Christmas tree in the living room to give us a little holiday happiness. My baby belly had really started to show, and even empire-waist sweaters couldn’t hide the fact I was pregnant. Everywhere we went, people stared. Usually with sad or judgmental gazes. At first, all I’d want to do is run and hide in the car. Especially when an older woman said I needed Jesus. But after Mom told the woman off, reminding her Jesus loved even those we scoffed at, I began ignoring people. And after Neil squeezed my hand and told me to mentally flip them off, I’d done so when individuals were over-the-line gawking. It made existing in public a little easier.

  The few times Jill spotted people’s reactions, she’d used the Force and pretended to make their heads explode. Most people ceased staring, having been called out for being rude. And because Jill usually looked like she was about to crap herself.

  She played Obi-Wan Kenobi again as we entered the store to pick up Neil’s birthday present. The clerk jolted in surprise and hurried away.

  “You know, one of these days, you’re going to do that to the wrong person, and we’ll get tossed from a store,” I said.

  “And I’ll use my Jedi powers to convince him to let us back in. Bada bing, bada boom.”

  I shook my head and marched to the musical instruments section in the electronics department.

  “What are we getting here again?” Jill asked. “I thought Neil wanted a tobacco pipe.”

  “He was joking because he doesn’t want me to get him anything. He stopped smoking a couple months ago when the smell kept making me sick.” I halted when I reached the microphones.

  “So, instead, you’re getting him a mic?”

  Grabbing one that seemed good—though I had no idea what I was looking at—I spun the box in my hands. “His mom broke the last one. She has . . . anger issues.” Crap. I probably shouldn’t be telling Jill this.

  “No, she has alcohol issues.”

  Oh. I forgot Jill had investigative tendencies. And that was putting it nicely.

  “Let me see,” she said, motioning to the microphone I was holding. “I’m a nerd. I know these things.”

  I handed it to her with a raised eyebrow.

  Flipping it over, she read the specifications. “Don’t get this one.” She stuffed the box on the shelf and pulled off another, glanced at the back, and then handed it to me. “Here.”

  I grabbed the box and checked the price. “It’s fifty dollars more.”

  “So, take the tag off.”

  “Have you met my boyfriend? Price tag or not, he’s going to know how much I spent, and then he’ll kill me.” Especially considering my monetary situation. At least I still had a little money left from my—albeit, measly—savings account. I’d withdrawn all of it so I could afford the few Christmas presents I wanted to buy.

  “And you tell him to man up and get over it. Problem solved.” Jill headed to the register without waiting for a response.

  Rolling my eyes, I followed. We paid for his gift then swung by Jill’s house to wrap. As far as Mom knew, I was spending the night with her again and visiting Neil tomorrow for his birthday—the only day his uncle let him request off without penalty. But I had other plans. I smiled, dreaming about waking up with him in his bed and forcing him to play something for me on his guitar.

  Present and overnight bag in hand, at 10:30 p.m., I hopped into Jill’s Honda, and she drove me to Neil’s house. I didn’t bother texting. He’d be off work by now, and I wanted to surprise him. I clutched Neil’s present to my chest, unable to keep myself from bouncing in my seat.

  Neil’s truck was in the driveway when we pulled up, and all the lights were on in the house. After saying goodbye to Jill and promising to call if something went wrong, I climbed out of her car. I tossed my bag and Neil’s gift into the bed of his truck with what looked like a couple duffel bags and his guitar case. Was he moving out already?

  The front door was cracked open when I approached. Before I could knock, glass shattered from inside the house.

  “You little shit!” a woman screamed, her words slurred. “You poured it out!”

  “I was at work. When would I have had time to touch your bottle?” Neil said.

  “Then where’d it go, huh? Why do you keep ruining my life?”

  A chill ran deep into my bones.

  “You drank it, Ma. That’s where it went,” Neil said, his voice hard and angry. “Down your throat like the rest of the liquor from the Mart.
You know, the next time you show up like that, I’m not going to be able to stop Uncle Brad from calling the cops. You’re lucky I got there before you did any damage.”

  Silence. Then crying.

  “It’s your fault I’m like this. You killed him,” Neil’s mom said.

  I leaned against the siding to keep from falling over.

  “I know.” Neil’s voice was surprisingly calm for how fast my heart pounded.

  “Now, come on,” he said. “Let’s go to bed. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

  More glass broke, and Neil swore. I grabbed my cell phone, ready to call 9-1-1. Then I heard his voice.

  “You know what? Fuck you. You can climb your own way up the stairs. Don’t break your neck when you come crashing down.”

  Footsteps neared the door, and I stepped back.

  “Don’t you leave this house, you hear me?” his mom screamed. “Don’t you dare walk away from me! Neil! I hate you, you ungrateful bastard! It should’ve been you that died!”

  Oh my God.

  Neil flung the front door open, and I covered my mouth with a gasp. Blood trickled from the right side of his hairline down his face. Seeing me, he jumped.

  “Damn it.” Neil stormed past me without a second glance and marched to his truck. He flung open the passenger’s door and glove box, then slammed both before pressing a cloth to his head.

  I hurried toward him, desperate to make sure he was okay.

  When I reached for the cloth, he stepped back, snarling. “What have I told you about coming here?”

  “I wanted to surprise you.” Although I kept my voice quiet, it shook. He didn’t seem to notice.

  “Yeah, well, you did. I’m fucking shocked that you’d have the goddamn balls to show up here when you know I don’t want you to. Especially now, considering tomorrow’s the day my dad died. And you stuck around to listen to that freak show.” His nostrils flared.

  I turned away, unable to look at him, my stomach churning.

  He continued yelling, “You were never supposed to be around for this shit. Ever. Don’t you think I have enough on my mind without having to worry about you getting in the way?”

  I stepped away from him and wrapped my arms around my waist. His rage shook me to my core. Ten minutes ago, all I’d wanted to do was curl up next to him. Now, I wanted to get away. Far, far away. We’d had our arguments, yes, but he’d never yelled at me like this.

  My chin trembling, I marched toward his truck to grab my bag and leave.

  Neil swore and chased after me. “Andie, I’m sorry.”

  Reaching his truck before he could touch me, I grabbed my bag and slammed the gift into his free arm.

  “Happy birthday,” I said, spinning on my heel to find the road and call Jill to pick me up.

  “No, wait.”

  I kept walking without looking back. Neil grabbed my arm, and I smacked his hand away, hard. The sound echoed through the trees.

  “Don’t touch me.”

  Neil’s eyes glassed over, and the pain that rolled through me almost made my knees buckle. Turning my back to him, I continued walking down the driveway.

  “Andie, please.” A strangled noise came out of him, stopping me in my tracks.

  I balled my fists, fighting the urge to turn around. My heart still felt lashed by a whip. How could he talk to me like this when just two weeks ago he’d said he loved me?

  My feet betrayed me, and I pivoted slowly.

  Neil sat crouched, his back to me. The hand not holding the cloth to his head gripped the back of his neck, pulling his chin to his chest. My resolve to run away snapped. I couldn’t leave him. Not the day before his birthday—the tenth anniversary of his father’s death—and definitely not after his mother spoke to him the way she had.

  I took a deep breath. He’d lashed at me out of fear, not hatred. Neil loved me. I knew he did. He’d not only said it, but, for months, he’d shown it.

  I hurried back down the driveway and dropped my bag at his feet. My reappearance startled him. Neil jumped up and spun around. I took his face in my hands, kissing him before he could say anything. His hand dropped from his forehead, and his strong arms clutched me to him.

  He dropped his face into the crook of my neck. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I just . . . God, if she ever hurt you—”

  I stuck my fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. “I know.”

  We stood in silence like that until Neil lifted his head. He kissed my forehead before resting his cheek on my scalp. I breathed in the smell of him and listened to his heartbeat. It still pumped fast.

  “Do you want to go somewhere?” I asked.

  “Like?”

  “Anywhere.”

  He nodded against my head then kissed my hair before pulling away, pressing the cloth to his forehead again and picking up my bag. I entwined my arm with his, and he led me to his truck.

  We drove through the mountains until we reached a little cabin, not far from Butterfly Point.

  “Where are we?” I asked.

  Neil shut down the engine and hopped out. I followed suit and helped him grab bags from the back.

  “Owen’s family owns it,” he replied. “They said I could stay here until I found a place.”

  I followed him to the front door. He fished a key out of his back pocket and let us inside. The room smelled like a fireplace. I flipped a light switch.

  The cabin was small, but, for one person, it was definitely accommodating. The room we stood in made up the majority of the house and reminded me of my own home where the living and dining areas merged. Straight ahead, glass sliding doors looked out onto a lake. Next to them was another door that led to a bathroom. A fireplace was built into the wall on the far right, and to our left was a small kitchenette with a round dining table that sat four. I guessed the bedroom was through the door next to the fridge.

  Neil dropped his bags behind a couch positioned in the center of the room, facing a large, flat-screen TV. I tossed my bags in the pile and waited for him to return from snatching the few remaining things from his truck, including my gift. He set that on the coffee table in front of the couch.

  “Want something to drink?” he asked.

  “Does this place even have food or drinks?”

  Neil opened the fridge, one hand still pressed to his head. “I was here earlier with Owen, so, yeah, I stocked it. The plan was to surprise you tomorrow and bring you here once I’d gotten everything situated. But, hey, now’s as good a time as any.”

  Handing me a can of Sprite, he plopped on the sofa and held his own to his head after tossing the bloodied rag into the trash. Frowning, I set my soda on the coffee table and sat next to him. I touched the hand that held the can.

  “Let me see,” I said.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Neil, move your hand.”

  He sighed and did as I asked. His hairline had already begun to bruise, and, though the bleeding had slowed, it still definitely needed attention. It was my turn to do for him what he’d done for me months ago.

  “Do you have a first-aid kit here?” I asked.

  “Bathroom. Medicine cabinet.”

  Suppose I could’ve guessed that. Opening the cupboard, I grabbed rubbing alcohol, butterfly bandages, and antibiotic ointment, then found cotton balls under the sink. I returned to the couch. After drenching a cotton ball in the alcohol, I pressed it to Neil’s head. He winced. I cleaned the wound and dressed it, trying to keep my touch soft.

  As soon as I finished, Neil took my hand. His irises were vivid when he looked into my eyes. My heart jumped. He slipped his hand behind my neck and pulled my lips to meet his, kissing me like he had that first night in the garage. Tender at first, then his kisses intensified until I was in his lap and his hands were under my shirt, stroking the skin beneath my bra strap.

  I was about to rip off his top when he grabbed my hands. Seriously?

  “Wait,” he said, his lips not far from mine, “there’s something
I want to do first. You’re going to have to let me up.”

  Rolling my eyes and groaning, I fell into him.

  “Wrong way, Princess.”

  It’d been a long time since he called me that. Smiling, I pinched his side—not too hard—and he chuckled. After I fell onto the seat next to him, Neil got up, visited the bedroom, and came back.

  “Okay, resume position,” he said.

  “Oh, now you want me in your lap.”

  “I always want you in my lap.” Neil smirked, and I punched him in the arm. But I wanted to continue where we’d left off, too, so I straddled Neil’s legs, facing him.

  “So, what, you ran into the bedroom for a Viagra?” I joked.

  Neil’s head tipped back with laughter. “Well, now look who’s the cheeky one. I don’t need Viagra, babe. My stamina’s all natural.”

  “Then show me.” I kissed him hard, and he let out a soft noise.

  “Andie—” He tried to stop me again, but I fumbled with the belt around his waist, and, in seconds, whatever he’d gone into the bedroom to get was forgotten.

  Neil pulled his shirt off as I finally managed to undo his belt, then my own shirt was tugged over my head. Again, the twinge of insecurity burned through my chest, but he kissed me, hard, and I dug my fingers into his back. He’d been patient with me for so long, and after a night like tonight, I wanted to make sure he knew how much I craved him, how much I needed him. I trusted his feelings for me.

  Neil tugged on my hair. I moaned when his lips found the pulse point in my neck. Every nerve in my body tingled from head to toe, and my heartbeat pounded in my ears. His fingers trailed down my back to the clasp of my bra. With one hand, he twisted the strap, and it fell away. Neil’s gaze flicked to my breasts then met my stare, hesitation in his eyes. I grabbed his face and kissed him, assuring him I wanted to keep going. There was no stopping now. I could already imagine the way he’d feel, the way he’d look when he was naked in front of me. My hips dug into his. Neil groaned then lifted me just enough so he could tug his pants to his knees.