This time isn’t like the rest. This time, it’s just us. Nothing between us, nothing holding us back.
Her nails dig into my back while I push her closer and closer to her release. Soft whimpers fall from her parted lips, and her knees begin to tremble.
I place my thumb against her nub and rub while quickening my movements until within minutes, we’re both falling over the edge together.
I pause to let myself come down from my high, but before I can recover, she’s rolling us over. All I have to do is look at her on top of me and I’m rock hard and ready for round two.
I lose myself in watching her move slowly and deliberately, hitting the exact right spot that will leave us both panting again. She rolls her hips forward, pauses, and rolls her hips back. She does this over and over while I watch her perfect body move above mine. I watch her lips part with her heavy breathing, her eyes flutter closed, and her head tip back.
I grab her hips and squeeze. “Look at me, Lex.” My voice almost sounds foreign to me. It’s deep and demanding.
When the last word leaves my lips, her eyes open and lock with mine as she continues her movements.
I can feel my climax rising, threatening to shatter me. “I fucking love you.”
“I love you, Striker.” With one last roll of her hips, we both find our release and ride out every last wave together.
We cuddle up close together, touching and caressing. When the sun starts to set, we finally pull ourselves from bed to get ready to make the drive back to the city.
Hundreds of words are silently exchanged between us during the truck ride, communicating with our eyes and touch.
Leaving that mess behind us, it’s as if words are no longer needed with us. We finally know one another completely, inside and out. Nothing is left for us to worry about or avoid. We can be together without hiding - without worrying that someone will come along and shatter what we have.
This is the new beginning of Lex and me and I can’t wait to see where we end up.
It’s late when we get to her apartment. We’re both exhausted from the weekend and the long drive, and we fall into bed. Neither of us move until the alarm clock goes off the next morning.
We stop and grab a box of donuts and some coffee before we head to the store. I only have a few days left of work before the new wall will be done.
As I’m working, I overhear Lex filling Hannah in on our weekend. Suddenly it dawns on me that we haven’t seen or heard from Jeff since the incident at the wedding.
I know it’s only a matter of time before he comes crawling back with his tail between his legs.
I manage to finish painting the wall and work more on the tile before the day ends. Lex, Hannah, and I are packing up to grab some dinner when the door buzzes.
Standing sheepishly at the door is Jeff.
Lex and I both stare at him; Hannah looks between the two of us.
“Did you leave a part of the story out, Alex?” Hannah asks.
“Yeah, I may have forgotten something.”
“What are you doing here?” I ask him.
He holds up his hands. “I’m not here to start trouble. I came to apologize. I had too much to drink and after watching Alex hurt all day, I was pissed at you.”
I take a step toward him. “That’s not it.” I shake my head and rub my jaw. “No, I don’t think that’s it at all.” I let my eyes flash around to the three of them. Lex looks worried, unsure of what I’m going to say. Hannah looks entertained. And Jeff… well, he just looks scared.
“You know what I think it is?” I wait for him to answer, but he doesn’t. He’s a coward and is too afraid to tell Lex the truth. He slides his hands back into his pockets, subconsciously telling me he isn’t looking for a fight, which is just fine because I don’t want to fight him. Not like that anyway. I just want all the shit out in the open. Lex can’t see him for who he truly is, but I can. He’s a snake. He buddies up in hopes of taking whatever he wants as soon as everybody lets their guard down.
“I think this whole time that you two have had this little thing going on, you were falling in love with her, hoping that she was falling in love with you. Is that right?”
He runs his hands through his hair and shakes his head. “Look, man. I just wanted to say I’m sorry. Now I have and I think it’s time for me to go.”
I let out a small laugh. “Yeah, run away you coward.”
His head pops up and his eyes lock on mine. “What did you call me?” His brows are furrowed and his jaw is set.
“I said you’re a fucking coward.” I look at the girls and wave my arm in their direction. “Prove me wrong, tell Lex how you really feel about her.”
His eyes bounce from mine to hers. “Alex, I…”
I stand back and cross my arms over my chest.
He looks at me again and I see his jaw flex. “You know what? Fuck this.” He turns and pushes out the door, leaving the three of us standing there.
I see Lex let out a long breath. Her shoulders visibly fall with her exhale; she’s relieved.
“Let’s grab some dinner,” Hannah says as she pulls out her keys to lock up behind us.
Chapter 19
Striker and I head back to my apartment after dinner with Hannah. We walk quietly with his hand reaching out to me, holding mine between us. Just his touch soothes me, makes every negative thing fall away.
“Why did you do that to Jeff?”
He shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know. He just pissed me off and I thought that if he was going to try stealing you away from me, you should at least know how he feels about you.”
“I know how he feels about me. We’re friends, but I was worried he was getting too serious before I even came back home.”
“It wasn’t for you, it was for him. He needs to admit it so he can move the fuck on.”
“Well, what about you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t you think you should meet with your mom? You know, so you can put it all behind you.”
He lets out a laugh. “Nice try.”
I squeeze his hand until he looks at me. “I’m serious, Striker. I think you need to talk to her, fully understand what she was going through and why she left.”
“She was being beaten. I know why she left.”
“You should hear it from her, not my dad or anyone else.”
He takes a long breath. “I’ll think about it.”
I let the subject drop. I don’t want to push him. He hasn’t seen his mom since he was a kid, it must be a lot to process.
We take a long hot shower together and thoroughly enjoy each other.
Something has been different since we came home. We are closer than we’ve ever been. Nothing is holding us back anymore.
The lights are off and the only sound is his deep, even breathing. I think he’s asleep until he says, “You’re right.”
The sudden nose makes me jump. “Right about what?”
“I need to see her, hear it from her.”
I roll to my side to face him. “Are you sure? I don’t want to push you into something you’re not ready for.”
He reaches out into the darkness and gently brushes his knuckles over my cheek. “I’m sure. You’re not forcing anything on me. But I do have one question to ask you.”
“Anything.”
“Will you come with me? I don’t know if I have the strength to do it alone.”
“I will go with you anywhere,” I whisper.
Two days later, we’re on our way to see his mom. She lives just across the state line, but it still requires a day of driving and a hotel stay. The night before the meeting, Striker is stressed and overwhelmed in anticipation of seeing her, worried about how the meeting will go. I try and comfort him but all I can think to do is to remind him that I’m here for him. Every time I say it, he just squeezes my hand.
She chose the meeting place: a small diner near the highway, not unlike Pop’s back home. We get a table in t
he back of the empty restaurant’s patio, far from where anyone will sit, and wait for her to show up. Striker sits facing the door. His back is straight, shoulders raised, and chin held high. His eyes don’t move from the entrance.
After twenty minutes of nervously waiting, the door swings open. A middle-aged woman walks through, wearing a pair of blue jeans and a loose white shirt. Her blonde hair is pulled back neatly in a braid while a few curls hang around her face. She’s beautiful. As she raises up her sunglasses, her eyes land on Striker.
Her lips part and turn up before she covers her mouth with her hand. She stops moving, frozen in place as she takes him in.
He stands and slowly walks toward her. When he’s only a foot away, he stops and says, “Hi, Mom.”
A rush of air leaves her as she pulls him in for a hug. He stands at least a foot taller than her, and she appears tiny in comparison. When she pulls away, she looks up at him and wipes a tear before pulling him back in for another extended embrace.
“It’s so good to see you,” she whispers.
“You too, Mom.” He pulls away and turns toward me. “I have someone I’d like you to meet.” He gestures to me and pulls her closer. “This is my girlfriend, Lex.”
He holds out her hand. “You’re Gary’s daughter, aren’t you?”
I smile and nod before shaking her hand.
“I’ve heard a lot about you two and the trouble you caused together.” She lets out a delicate laugh and sits down across from her son. “Your father has helped me so much. I’ll never be able to repay him. And, Striker, I’m so sorry for what your father put you though. I never would have been able to leave if I thought that he would turn the abuse on you.” Her eyes well up with tears again.
“It’s okay, Mom. That’s actually what I wanted to talk about. I had no idea that dad was that way with you. I never saw or heard any of it.”
She nods and wipes away tears. “You were usually in bed or at school. It was never as bad as the last time, when he found out that I filed for divorce and planned on taking you with me.”
“When did you find out about him beating me?”
“Not until later, much later. Gary told me that you two had been arrested. He said that Alexis saw something he didn’t, but he said he almost had to carry her out of there.” She looks at me. “Thank you for trying to protect my boy.”
Thinking about that memory again brings a tear to my eye. Those are hard memories for me to think back on because I was the reason why he wouldn’t leave to get away from it. Because of me, he was waiting until I was eighteen and could go with him.
He suffered years with his father, all just so he could be with me.
Tears fall from my eyes. Striker looks at me confused. “What’s the matter?”
I wipe my tears away and shake my head. “Just remembering all that. It’s a lot to take in. I’m sorry.”
He places his hand under my chin and forces me to look at him. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I stayed for you, you didn’t make me stay.”
“Wow, Gary was right. You two are intense.”
We both look at her, confused.
We all stare at one another.
Suddenly, Striker sits back. “Yeah well, that’s kind of what you get when you were raised the way we were.” He sits up, placing his arms on the table. “We didn’t have anyone but each other.”
She nods, understanding. “I know, and I’m sorry. I’ve wanted to look you up so many times, but I just couldn’t. I knew you would blame me for everything. I couldn’t face you.”
“I don’t blame you, Mom. Maybe when I was younger I would’ve, but after finding out the truth I know you did the only thing you could. You thought he would take care of me.” His eyes fill with fear and sadness. “After seeing that picture of you in that hospital bed, I’m glad you escaped. I could handle Dad, but you couldn’t. He almost killed you.”
“I know. I just wish things could’ve been different.”
“Well, let’s start over. Tell me what you’ve been doing.” He sits up, watching her every move.
I know this isn’t my Striker. This is Striker as a little boy. The beaten boy who finally got his mother back. I lean back in my seat and watch them in awe. Being able to see her love, sadness, and regret pains me greatly. I believe her when she says she thought he would be taken care of. I remember Ken before she left. He had been an attentive father, nobody could’ve seen it coming.
We sit and have lunch, moving on to coffee when we finish. When dinner rolls around and the night air becomes cool, we all stand to go our separate ways. Striker and Kate say goodbye with a hug and a few shed tears. He promises to keep in touch while we walk her to her car.
I move to get inside the truck, but stop when I realize he hasn’t moved. I turn around and see him watching her drive off.
I walk up to him and wrap my arms around his stomach. “I think that went pretty well.”
He spins in my arms and looks down at me to meet my eyes. “Thank you for coming with me.”
I smile. “I would follow you anywhere.”
He bends down and presses his lips to mine. I move my hands around his neck and keep him close as he pulls me even closer. Our bodies are practically welded together. He hardens against me and I shudder, needing to feel him inside me. My need for him is overwhelming, it controls me entirely.
Someone driving by honks and shouts and we pull away. My cheeks are hot with embarrassment when I realize we're making out in a parking lot.
Striker tugs me toward the truck. “Let's get back to the hotel.”
I leave the football game just as it starts. I'm supposed to meet Striker here, but if I know him, he's hanging out in the parking lot.
I cross the street and walk into the gravel parking lot. He always parks in the same spot: in the last row, right under the lamppost.
He finally comes into view and I head towards him. He's sitting on the hood of his truck, leaning back against the windshield with his ankles crossed and a bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag.
Gemma is sitting next to him, smoking a cigarette, talking a mile a minute even though Striker isn't listening at all. I can tell because his eyes have found me walking up.
“Hey,” I say to them. Brett stops throwing rocks at the metal sign and spins around to greet me with open arms.
He picks me up over his shoulder and smacks me on the ass. “It's about time you got here. The cannons are going to go off any minute now.”
“What's the deal with the cannons?” I ask as he sets me on my feet.
“Brett!” Striker shouts before nodding his head toward Gemma, who is walking toward the field.
Brett nods and chases after her.
I turn and close the distance between Striker and me. “What's with the cannons?”
He gives me a cocky grin. “Oh, just a little anniversary present.”
I jump up and down and clap my hands. “I can't wait to see what comes out of them!” I grab his hand and turn to walk to the field, but he doesn't move. Instead he pulls me toward him. I fall into his chest and smell the whiskey on his breath.
“Is something wrong? You don't usually drink.” I search his eyes, looking for any clue.
“Nothing's wrong. I just thought that I needed a little liquid courage to do the next step in my plan.” He has a wicked gleam in his eye.
I raise an eyebrow. “What's the next step?”
He shrugs. “A little fun of our own on the fifty-yard line.”
I can't hold back my smile. “I can't wait.”
“Why wait? Let's start now.” He lets the bottle fall from his hand and grabs me by my sides. He lifts me up and places me on the hood of his truck. The truck is rather large, so he has to step on the old metal bumper to climb up himself.
He covers my body with his as his lips move against mine. I'm pinned between the cool metal of the truck and him. There's no give to the metal beneath my back and he feels even heavier than usual, but his weight pressing
against me feels right.
I wrap my legs around his hips and grind against him as his hand covers my breast, squeezing softly. Our lips never leave each other’s as we unabashedly explore one another.
Suddenly, we hear a snicker. We stop and look around in time to see two boys run off from behind the old chain link fence. I can tell Striker wants to yell at them for being creeps and watching, but he runs his hand through his hair and laughs.
“Let's go see those cannons go off.” I hold out my hand.
He hops off the truck and reaches for me. For fun, I stand on the hood and jump. He catches me in his strong arms and places me softly on my feet.
I wake up to a dark hotel room. I can feel Striker next to me. His heat is radiating off him and warming the deepest, darkest parts of me. I roll to my back and find him laying with his arms stretched out above his head. His chest is slowly rising and falling with his deep, even breathing.
The memory brought up by that dream sets my body on fire. I remember how much love and need I had for him that night. That night, he gave me everything. He saved me.
I had gotten into another fight with my mom. I don't remember what it was about, but I remember it was bad. I was emotionally wrecked and was doubting everything in my life. I went to that game to see him, knowing he would make it better, fix the broken pieces inside of me. And he did. By getting too close on the hood of his truck, filling the confetti cannons with ketchup and mustard, he did just what I needed. I needed to see how much he loved me. I already knew, but after that fight, I just needed a reminder that someone loved me.
Right now, I’m feeling the same insecurities as that night. All the emotion bubbles to the surface and I need him again. I trail my fingertips up his chest and his eyes flutter open. His lids are heavy from sleep, but his eyes find mine. He studies me for just a minute, reading me. Without a word, he places his hand on the side of my face and rolls over. His lips crash into mine and I can feel all the love and devotion that he has for me.
Losing a Piece of Me Page 18