by Debra Doxer
Everything is different now.
WE LEFT the Starbucks parking lot with the air cleared and with a new understanding. Lucas hasn’t said much since other than asking me if I was hungry. For the first time in a long while, I told him I was. Now my stomach feels like it’s busting at the seams as we leave In-N-Out Burger. No one forced me to eat a Double-Double. But with Lucas here, the knots that have been twisting inside me are starting to loosen.
“I need to stop by my place first to get a few things,” Lucas says as he turns down a narrow road he thinks is a shortcut to Westwood Village. I disagree, but I don’t want to put a damper on his enthusiasm at saving a couple of minutes and probably less than a mile.
“First?” I ask.
“I’m staying with you,” he states, rather than asks.
“Since you think you’re in charge, you’ve decided this?” I tease, pretending the butterflies aren’t fluttering in my belly.
“I don’t just think it.” He grins, but then his expression turns serious. “I’m not spending the night away from you. We don’t have to do anything.”
He glances at me, and all I do is swallow. I don’t want to be apart from him either, but can we really be together all night and not fool around? If we can’t, will I lose control of my energy again and hurt him? I jump when his finger touches my forehead.
“Stop worrying,” he says. “It’s just me. There’s nothing to stress about.”
I nearly laugh because that’s exactly why I’m stressing out. He angles a look at me, and I know that despite his assurances of not doing anything tonight, his smoldering eyes tell me he has other ideas.
A smile plays at his lips, and he subtly shakes his head.
“What?” I ask.
He hesitates before his sly grin grows even wider. “You have no idea how sexy you are.”
His words cause my cheeks to heat.
“I love how that embarrasses you,” he says, amused by my reaction.
I look at my limp hair hanging down over my shoulders, and the oversized sweater that I’ve worn since yesterday because it’s dark and makes me feel invisible. I used to turn heads, but not anymore. Now, I want to disappear most of the time. I guess love really is blind, because there’s no way I look anything like sexy.
“See?” he asks before pulling up to an intersection and taking a turn that brings us to the back of campus. “Told you this was a shortcut.”
My smile joins his because he looks so proud of himself.
A few minutes later, he passes Nikki’s building and pulls to a stop in front of a three-story house.
“This is where you live?”
He nods, getting out of the truck.
“How long have you been here?” I ask, trailing behind him, wondering how I’ve never run into him.
“Only a few weeks. I saw an ad for this place just before school started. I share the bottom floor. Before this, I was in a hotel for most of the summer.”
I’m following him up the short path to the front door, and my feet nearly falter at his words. “You were in town all summer?” I ask slowly.
After unlocking the door, he turns to me. “I came after graduation. Alec told me he’d get word to your father I was here. He implied that if your father approved, he’d let you get in touch with me. Since I didn’t have a lot of other options, I came and waited.”
“Wait a minute. Alec talks to my father?” I ask, feeling the bile rise in my throat at just saying his name. “And if you were here all this time, Apollo must have known.”
He nods his head, and the skin around his mouth tightens.
I stare off at nothing as this sinks in. “He never said anything.”
Lucas bends to catch my eye. “He purposely kept us apart.”
My mouth opens, but quickly closes again because this may not be what Lucas thinks. I never asked Apollo for details about Lucas. I practically made it clear that I didn’t want any. I thought it would be too hard to hear about his life, knowing he’d moved on without me. But he hadn’t moved on. He was right here. Apollo must have realized I’d want to know that even if I never said as much.
Lucas goes inside, but I don’t follow. My heart hurts, picturing him waiting for me all that time. And now he tells me that my father knew he was here because he talked to Alec. A sick feeling builds inside me as I walk into Lucas’s apartment, finding him turning on lights and then disappearing into another room. Walking in behind him, I glance around his bedroom, noticing some clothes strewn over a chair and a pile of books on a table beside his bed. He has various electronics stacked beneath a small TV, but other than that, Lucas doesn’t appear to have much here. In fact, he picks up a messenger bag and a backpack, and is ready to head back out again.
“You haven’t unpacked?” I ask.
He looks around. “I guess I never got around to it.”
There’s movement behind me in the hallway. “Hey, Diesel. What are you still doing here?”
I turn to see a tall guy with black-framed glasses standing over me. He pushes his long blond hair behind his ears and eyes me curiously.
“This is my roommate, Calvin,” I say. “Cal, this is Raielle.”
Cal seems surprised. “You finally gave up on that other girl you were looking for?”
“No.” Lucas clears his throat. “This is her.”
His head rears back in shock. “You’re the chick he’s been so torn up over?”
“Um, Cal,” Lucas says.
“What you did to him was seriously fucked up.” He points a finger in my face.
Lucas mutters something under his breath as he turns me around and starts pushing me past Cal, toward the door. “Don’t listen to him,” Lucas says to me. Moving me in front of him, he leans back to say something to Cal, but it’s too low for me to hear. Then he continues to propel me forward.
Once we’re alone outside, I whirl around on him. “What did you tell him about me?”
He starts to walk past me.
“Lucas?”
Stopping, he drops his bags on the ground. “I had a few too many one night and said a bunch of stupid shit.”
“What kind of stupid shit?”
Looking down, his hands go to his hips as he sighs. “I was missing you, and I was pissed. I told him the facts without any of the details. He drew his own conclusions, and I guess I let him, because how the hell could I ever really explain it? I’m sorry. Don’t be mad, okay?”
But I can’t find it in me to be mad. I told him I loved him, and then I left him in the worst way possible. He spent months waiting for me, not knowing if I was alive or dead, and I can still hardly believe he’s here. Every time I think of what he’s given up for me, I feel conflicted. I’m thrilled and saddened and weighed down by guilt. I feel so much guilt for all that’s happened to both of us. “I’m not mad, Lucas. I’m just sorry…about everything.”
He nods, looking both contrite and relieved, having no idea of the thoughts going on inside my head. He takes a step forward and kisses me on the forehead, letting his lips linger there. I lean into him, breathing in his scent, letting the heady sensation of having him close wash over me, and feeling exhausted from the tumultuous day we’ve had.
“Let’s go,” he says. Then he turns me with him and picks up his things.
WHEN WE get back to the condo, I’m relieved to see no sign of Shane. Despite what Lucas said earlier about not having to do anything tonight, there’s electricity in the air between us. I feel it in the silence we’ve fallen into, and it only grows when we walk into my bedroom.
I busy myself with putting my things away and pulling out some clothes to change into. When I turn around, Lucas is standing in the middle of the room staring at me. The intensity of his gaze halts me as he slowly moves closer. My pulse starts to race, and the need to have him touch me is so strong, I feel weak with it.
But then I remember that I haven’t showered or changed clothes in two days, and I avert my gaze, regretfully breaking the hold h
e has on me. It’s been a while since I cared about my appearance, and right now I care a lot. “I’m going to take a shower,” I say.
“Yeah?” His playful tone has me glancing back at him. “Can I join you?”
The breath stalls in my lungs.
A mischievous grin grows on his face. “Relax. I’m kidding. You go first.”
I roll my eyes at him, turning away as my face grows hot.
Walking into the bathroom and closing the door behind me, I wonder why I’m feeling so skittish around him. I love him. I shouldn’t be this nervous at the idea of being with him, of being naked with him while he’s naked, too.
My whole body heats as I turn on the shower and step under the cool spray. The fact that it would be my first time is enough to give me jitters. But after what happened this morning, I don’t want to lose control and hurt him again. I was so ready to give myself to him that night at the bridge. If he hadn’t found those tumors in my wrist, my first time would be over and done with now. But that feels like a lifetime ago, and I don’t remember feeling this nervous around him then. It’s been a long time since anyone touched me so often or watched me so closely. It’s been since I last saw him. Before that, it had been forever.
I shave before shampooing my hair, taking a long time, delaying. Then I towel off, not feeling any calmer, and realize that I forgot to bring my pajamas in with me. With this luxurious condo, you’d think the towels would be huge and plush, but no. There’s not much to them, and this one barely hits the top of my thighs when I wrap it around me. I glance around the bathroom, searching for another one to use, before deciding I’m being ridiculous. Lucas has touched me everywhere. My nipples have been in his mouth. I need to get over myself.
When I pull open the bathroom door, he’s standing in front of the window with his back to me. I can see his reflection in the glass as his eyes stare sightlessly into the night.
“Hey,” I say when he doesn’t notice my approach.
He glances at me sharply, like I startled him, before schooling his expression into blankness. “Be right out,” he says, offering me a tight smile before heading into the bathroom and closing the door behind him, never once noticing me in the skimpy towel I was so worried about.
I stare after him, confused. I’d nearly forgotten about his quick-fire mood swings. When I hear the shower turn on, I look out the window at the streetlights below. Then I notice his phone lying on the chair, and I suspect it’s the source of his sinking mood.
Turning away, I grab my Chargers T-shirt and some boxers, which are all I really have for pajamas. I’ve barely pulled them on when the shower turns off and the door opens, revealing a damp Lucas with nothing but a small towel wrapped around his waist.
“I forgot to bring my bag in with me,” he explains, moving toward it.
As he comes nearer, my gaze travels over the smooth skin of his broad shoulders, dotted with water drops that are leading a path down his firm chest to his rippled stomach. The water is absorbed by the towel that’s draped around his narrow waist, and my imagination fills in the blanks for the parts that remain covered.
When my gaze moves back up again, one side of his mouth tugs knowingly. But my embarrassment at being caught gawking is nothing compared to my growing need for him. He wants me, too. Desire is written there on his face. But there’s also tension rolling off him. “Is everything all right?” I ask.
When he doesn’t answer, and instead begins pulling clothing out of his bag, I move toward him and place my hand on his shoulder, feeling the muscle jump beneath my touch. “You can talk to me. You can tell me anything.”
He stills before his eyes find mine. “I know. But not now, okay?”
My hopes sink, but I only nod at him, thinking whatever it is has something to do with his family. He only gets this way when he’s hurting over them.
He reaches out and runs his hand up my arm. His face gradually relaxes, and he gets that familiar look in his eyes, the one that telegraphs his intent to kiss me. My whole body tightens as my pulse jumps. When he leans toward me, I wait expectantly, but he doesn’t kiss me. Instead, he rests his forehead against mine. His warm breath spreads over my skin, and my chest rises and falls in anticipation. But he keeps us this way, just seeming to breathe me in before stepping back again and taking his things into the bathroom with him.
I stand there dumbstruck, staring at the closed door, and I understand that despite the way he looks at me, he doesn’t intend for anything to happen tonight. Feeling both relieved and utterly disappointed, I shake off my warring emotions and slip into bed. But my body doesn’t feel sleepy anymore, and I close my eyes, trying to find some calmness.
When the door opens again, I look over to find him standing there in a pair of cotton pajama bottoms and a white T-shirt. “Do you want me to sleep on the floor?” he asks.
I sit up, surprised. “Is that what you want?”
He walks toward the bed. “No, Ray. That’s not what I want.”
He’s got that look again, like he wants something from me but he doesn’t plan on taking it. “You can sleep in the bed,” I say.
Then I watch as he turns out the light and walks back slowly, not really looking at me, as he lifts the covers and slides underneath them. The bed dips beneath his weight, and I find my hand reaching out to him. He grasps it firmly in his own, pulling me over so that I’m pressed against him beneath the blanket. I rest my head on his shoulder, and he places a kiss on my hair. “’Night, Ray,” he whispers.
“Good night,” I answer, but sleep still feels very far away. All my focus is on him and all the warm places where his body touches mine. I try to slow my breathing down and wipe away my thoughts, knowing how tired I am, but my awareness of him keeps me alert.
Sometime later, I’m staring into the darkness, and he’s very still beside me, almost too still. When I absently move my hand to rest it on his chest, he pulls in a breath.
“We’re not sleeping,” I say.
He laughs softly. “No, we’re not.”
I shift to look up at him. His eyes are open, watching me, glittering in the darkness. We stay this way for moment, just looking at each other. But then he turns and leans over me. His face hovers above mine. I reach up to brush my fingers over his rough cheek before moving down to trace along his full lips. He presses a kiss to my fingertips. Then he brings my hand up behind his neck and dips down to kiss me again, on the lips this time. I kiss him back, reaching my fingers into his hair to keep him more firmly against me. He groans as he moves his body above mine, and his hand splays across my waist.
I love the feel of his weight pressing me down into the mattress. I melt beneath him when he seeks my lips more urgently, opening his mouth and giving in to his need. His hand slips under my T-shirt, making me shiver as his fingers dance across my ribs, rubbing back and forth before skimming up higher. Warmth gathers inside me, pushing away my nerves and tossing everything else aside to focus only on how he makes me feel. His scent surrounds me as our tongues collide, and soon it feels like kissing him so deeply isn’t enough. I arch up against him, wanting more.
His other hand begins tugging the edge of my T-shirt up, but he pauses halfway and seems to regain his senses. “Tell me to stop,” he says. “I told you we didn’t have to do anything tonight.”
My heart is jack-hammering, and I’m sure he must feel it. “Don’t stop,” I breathe. The thought of him stopping now is unimaginable.
A small smile forms on his lips, and I drink in the intimacy of it. The way he looks at me, his gaze heavy with desire, chases away any uncertainty. I lean back to raise my arms over my head. In seconds, the shirt is gone and cool air washes over my skin. I wrap my arms around his neck, making a low noise in my throat in response to the contact. His hands begin to knead my breasts, shooting warmth all the way through me, and his mouth fuses to mine again.
Our tongues meet, stroking against each other, and I’m struck by how much I want this. I’ve never needed anyone t
his way. From the very beginning, something inside me recognized something within him. My heart has been tethered to his ever since. Now that our bodies will be linked together, I remember the words he said to me back in Fort Upton. When I’m finally inside you, I’ll be your first, and I’ll know that no one has ever done the things I’m going to do to you. After all this time, he’s about to make good on that promise.
When he turns away, I nearly whimper at the loss as I watch him reach down into his bag on the floor. He retrieves something from it before returning. I help him pull his T-shirt over his head, and then I look at him the same way he looked at me, admiring every line and dip of his muscled chest and stomach.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says as he angles himself above me and kisses his way down my body. I sigh, enjoying each sensation, giving myself over to him. His tongue dips into my belly button, and my stomach jumps. My hands slide into his hair as I watch him. Without breaking eye contact, Lucas slowly strips off my remaining clothes and then removes his own. When he leans up, I look at him, admiring all of him.
I reach for his face, making him look at me, wanting him to see how he makes me feel. I lock my eyes on his. “I love you.”
He stills before whispering, “I love you.” Then he takes my mouth in a slow, tender kiss. I run my hands over his back, loving the pressure of his hot skin against mine.
His hands move down to cover my knees, and he begins to part my legs. Watching me, he rolls the condom on. Then one of his arms comes down beside my head to brace himself. I feel him at my entrance. His eyes stay on mine as he starts to push in slowly. I breathe out while he slides in deeper, and I start to feel stretched. I’m watching him as the expression on his face becomes strained, and I realize that he’s purposely keeping himself in check, trying not to hurt me.
“Don’t be careful with me,” I whisper. “Don’t hold back.”
He halts his movement, his eyes searching mine and hesitating before finally thrusting himself in. I gasp at the sharp pain, surprised by the intensity of it. Lucas presses his face into my shoulder, muttering, “I’m sorry, baby.”