Who He Is

by S. Q. Williams

  My hips grinded, still feeling him at the pit of my stomach. My core was tightening. I clenched around him, knowing another spiral of pleasure was on its way. He knew it as well because he brought his head up again to look into my eyes. “I want you to watch me as I watch you let go. I want your eyes on mine. Don’t close them. Don’t block me out.”

  His husky voice sent me higher. He stared into my eyes, his face oozing with just as much pleasure as mine. He groaned; I excessively moaned. My lips locked with his and my fingernails clenched into his skin, but I kept my eyes open. It was coming, and with each second, I kept getting hotter and hotter, but I didn’t dare myself to look away. I couldn’t. His eyes were doing something to me that I couldn’t hold back on. They were low, heavy, watching every reaction.

  Finally, I screeched, soaking the length of him, still grinding my hips, a bead of sweat trickling down my back. I was coming undone, falling apart. Melting. He growled against my chin and I couldn’t help it anymore. I shut my eyes, shuddering and shattering. Trembling and quaking. My hips didn’t stop moving. My head fell back and then he cursed beneath his breath, flipping me over. He gripped my ass, slamming into me from behind countlessly, grunting through his teeth, until finally he collapsed on top of me.

  We breathed through the moment, the intensity still in the air, until I finally turned over to face him, tangling my fingers through his damp hair as he kissed my cheek.

  So many thoughts were running through my mind. I had to stop this before I ended up even more torn than I already was. I had to just tell Gage straight. It wasn’t like he couldn’t replace me with another girl within a second. He could—I knew it—and as bad as I didn’t want to be a part of his past, I knew we could never be more than a fling. We could never be more than casual because Gage lived the fast life. He lived a life that I could never live up to. We were two completely different people with completely different lives. I wanted a normal one. I couldn’t tolerate being on the tabloids or the entertainment channels anymore. Most were calling me his girlfriend, but I wasn’t that. We were just friends… with benefits.

  I couldn’t be the girl Gage wanted me to be. I had my own dreams to chase after and I knew I wouldn’t be able to trust him once I was out of sight. Even if I were to ask for more, in the back of my mind I knew it would be dumb of me because he wasn’t a faithful person. He didn’t have to admit it for me to know. Sooner or later the distance would get in the way.

  In between telling Gage good-bye so he could go practice with his band, taking a shower, brushing my teeth, detangling my hair, eating something light, getting dressed, and sulking on the couch all day with a book glued to my face, I finally settled with just letting life run its course. I didn’t want to think about the end of the week any more than I needed to, so I slept it away and half-heartedly forgot about it.

  The following day, Ben and I went out to pick up flowers and balloons for Deed. No guy wanted flowers, but Ben insisted and irritably, I’d conceded and went with him. I should have known something was behind his little day out, though. He seemed much happier from the night when he was crying over Bentley. I refused to bring it up, especially when I knew it would most likely kill him to talk about.

  We decided on grabbing some lunch after stuffing the flowers and balloons into the car with Marco. Marco rolled his eyes at us, but, as always, we thought nothing of him. The restaurant Ben chose was in the heart of New York City. The city was bustling; bodies were everywhere. Steam drifted out of potholes, the color yellow crowded streets because of taxis. I would never understand why New York was so busy, but it truly was the city that never slept.

  As we entered, a tall man with light-grey hair and a warm smile greeted us. He had on a chef’s hat, a clean white smock, and black slacks. He was a decent-looking guy and knew who we were as we stepped into the restaurant. He called Ben by his first name and Ben blushed a few times, grinning at the man who he’d said to me a million times was a real “hottie.” I smiled and laughed with him to keep his happy mood going, but I knew he was only trying to cover up his broken heart.

  Thinking of broken hearts made me sick to my stomach. After last night, I was ripped in half. I could hardly sleep. I hadn’t talked to Gage this morning and was slightly relieved he gave me some kind of space. I needed to clear my head. I needed to think.

  Ben chatted with the man at the bar, but my gaze drifted to the busy streets. My eyes swung to the fleeting pedestrians, the food stands, the couples walking by hand-in-hand. I sighed, longing for Gage’s hand in mine. Then again, I snapped out of it, knowing his hand wasn’t what I needed. I only had three more days left. Three more days. I really didn’t want to face the reality of it. Dreaming was better. Spending time with Gage was better. Laughing, joking around, teasing, cuddling, and even sex was better than being alone.

  I wondered if he thought more of me, as I thought of him. He said a lot the other day, but everything was broken up. He didn’t complete his sentences and it confused me even more. His face was torn, but I needed to hear it. I needed to know. I was hoping I wasn’t overreacting to our fling that had transformed into more. I wasn’t stupid. I could feel it between us. I just wanted so badly to ignore it. To just pretend it was nothing. Of course, that was nearly impossible.

  “Eliza,” Ben snapped, pulling me out of my daze. I dropped my hand from my chin, providing all my attention. “Eliza, talk to me,” he sighed. “You’ve been zoning out on me all morning. Speak.”

  I sighed, shrugging and forcing a smile. “I’m fine. Just thinking… about school and classes and stuff.”

  I stole a glance at him and his eyes narrowed, full of doubt. “Gage,” he said.

  I frowned, my cheeks burning. “W—what?”

  He smiled, oddly amused by my blush, and then sighed again, folding his arms. “You’re thinking about him. I see it in your eyes. In your face. In your little red cheeks,” he noted, reaching across the table to pinch them.

  I brushed his hands away, smiling. “I’m not. I’m fine.”

  “Hmph.” He snorted. “Whatever you say.” Ben picked up his menu and I did the same, but his eyes never left me. “Liza, can I ask you something?”

  I looked up, swallowing heavily. “Yeah, Ben. Anything.”

  “When it’s time for you to go, what are you going to tell him exactly?”

  I squeezed my hands together. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean… how are you going to go about it without getting hurt? Without hurting him?”

  “It’s not going to hurt him,” I assured, waving him off and staring at my menu. I was shrugging it off, but on the inside my heart was clambering and I could hear the beats in my eardrums.

  “You think so? What about you?” he asked. “You didn’t answer for yourself. How are you going to handle saying good-bye?”

  I bit on my bottom lip. Tears stung my eyes, but I kept them down, reaching for my glass of water. “I don’t know, Ben.” My voice was faint, almost inaudible, but somehow he heard me.

  Ben sighed, adjusting himself on his side of the table. I looked up and his eyes were empty, distant, but he was still staring at me. Worry crept behind those eyes and then he sighed again, reaching for my free hand that was on the table. I clutched my glass of water, hating how he’d set me up just to talk about it. I didn’t want to talk about it. I just wanted to go through with it and get it over with already, no matter how much it tore me apart.

  “I see the way he looks at you,” he whispered. “I see the way you look at him. You told me it was just a fling—just a casual thing—but I see more than that, and you’re fighting it. You’re denying it so you won’t be hurt by the end of this week.”

  My eyes burned and I looked down, no longer steady enough to look into his eyes. He squeezed my hand, rubbing his thumb along the back of it. “I’ll be fine,” I whispered.

  “You always say that, Eliza. You swear you’ll be fine, but that’s when you’re hurting the most.” I hated how much he knew me
. “Eliza, sweetie,” he said, his voice wavering and causing me to look up. “Just don’t lie to yourself. Don’t lie to him. Do it the right way. Don’t run from it. It’ll kill you just as much as it’ll kill him.”

  “Gage will be fine, Dad,” I snapped. “He’ll be doing just great without me, just like he was before. He’ll move on. He’ll be fine.”

  “And that’s what bothers you most? The fact that he can move on with whomever he’d like and you can’t.”

  “I can,” I retorted. Suddenly, I was blinded with rage and hating this whole conversation. It all started to come to me again. After this week, he would be back at it and it would be like I never existed.

  “You could, but you wouldn’t want to,” he said. “Eliza, be honest with me. Do you love him?”

  I frowned, hesitating slightly. “No.”

  “Are you sure about that? Think about it. All the time you two have been spending together. All the nights you two have shared. All the smiling you’ve done. I’ve seen you smile more this summer than any other time of your life. He’s made you happy and you’ve enjoyed the feeling.”

  I shook my head, pulling my hand away. It wasn’t what I wanted to hear. “Why are you defending him now when you’re the one who told me to be careful of my heart while we’re together?”

  “That was before I saw how much you really meant to him—before I noticed how much more time he was spending with you than his own band, the guys he grew up with. I notice these things, Eliza. I know love. I’ve been in it. You’re in love, so stop lying to yourself. Stop wallowing about it.”

  “I’m not wallowing,” I muttered. “And I’m not in love.”

  “You are and it’s annoying as hell, sweetie.” He was trying to be sympathetic, but I knew I was getting on his nerves. “You just don’t wanna be ‘cause you don’t wanna get hurt. Because you know you’ll have to go.”

  I finally caved in, drawing in a slow breath while staring at my menu again. Tears stung my eyes and I tried to fight against them, but one fell eventually and dropped onto my lap. “I know after I’m gone it won’t be the same, Ben. Even if I do want more, I can’t have it because we’ll be separated. I’ll be in school and he’ll be… wherever. I’ll be living a normal life and he’ll still be living the fast life. Girls will continue throwing themselves at him and I’ll start to fade into nothing. It’s not like he’s going to deny the girls that cross his path. I’ll slip away from his memory. He’ll drink, party, and forget about me and what we had because it’s who he is and it’s how he’ll always be. It’ll be like we were non-existent. That’s how this fling was supposed to end… right?”

  Ben was quiet for a moment, his lips pressed. His silence was really getting to me as he sipped his water, raked his wavy hair, and pursed his lips at me. I was about to yell at him to speak—to say something—but before I could, he said something to me that repeated in my mind for the rest of the evening. “Talk to him about it and see how he really feels. Don’t assume. It’ll only continue to bother you if you don’t know the truth, Eliza.”

  It sucked that he was right.

  Ben and I stopped by the FireNine tour bus. I decided to stick around with Deed while Ben left with Terri to check on the crew and make sure everything was going to be okay for the show on Saturday night. Deed was lying on the couch, playing a video game, his feet kicked up on the coffee table. I was sitting across from him, completely confused on how shooting zombies was so enjoyable. It kind of freaked me out.

  “Do you watch The Walking Dead?” Deed asked, looking at my grimace toward the TV screen.

  I shook my head. “No. What is it?”

  “A kickass zombie show. Roy and me used to watch it all the time. We haven’t had much time lately, but I swear it’s the shit.”

  I shook my head again, laughing. “I hate zombies. They freak me out. A virus might break out one day and kill us all. Then we’ll start eating each other and that’s just… gross.” I shuddered from the horrid thought.

  Deed chuckled. “Funny, Eliza.”

  He clicked away at his game controller and I sighed, looking toward the kitchen. “Do you want me to make something to eat? I’m not sure what you guys have, but I can try and whip something up.”

  “You cook?” he asked, eyebrow raised, his eyes still on the TV screen.

  “Yes,” I laughed, pushing from the sofa. “I cook for Ben all the time when we’re at home.”

  “Oh. You don’t look like a cooker.”

  “Exactly how does a ‘cooker’ look?” I countered, teasing.

  He shrugged and then snorted. “Like my mom.”

  I giggled, stepping around the sofa to get to the kitchen. I pulled the cabinets open, seeing what I had to work with. There were macaroni noodles in one cabinet, a bottle of wine in another, cheese in the fridge, a jar of honey, and a can of corn. I opened the freezer and there were frozen ham slices in a TV dinner box. It was odd seeing all the separate food, but I grabbed the macaroni noodles, the block of cheese, the corn, the honey, and the ham.

  “How about macaroni and cheese with honey glazed ham slices and a side of corn?” After I asked, it sounded funny and Deed laughed the same time I did.

  “Sure. Anything’s fine, Eliza.”

  I nodded, turning to grab a pot beneath the counter and fill it with water. I dumped the noodles into it, added a few pinches of salt, and then scrambled around for a cheese grater. While grating the cheese, it became silent and I looked up quickly, but Deed was already looking at me, his head tilted to the side. I forced a smile, thinking he’d snap out of his stare and look away, but he didn’t.

  “Are you okay?” I asked, still forcing a smile.

  He shook his head no. He continued staring at me until his eyes started glistening and he jerked away his gaze. He placed his game controller down, shaking his head and grunting as he stood from the sofa.

  “Do you need help?” I asked, stopping my grating. He shook his head again.

  “Just need to use the bathroom,” he said, limping his way toward the hallway. I watched him until he was out of sight, my eyebrows drawn in with concern. Water ran in the bathroom so I started grating the cheese again.

  After mixing some honey with brown sugar, I coated the slices of ham and stuck them in the oven. Now all I had to do was wait for the macaroni noodles to be done. I sighed, folding my arms and leaning against the counter. Deed came out of the bathroom seeming much better. His eyes weren’t glistening.

  As he entered the front room again, he met my gaze and smiled. Limping his way toward the kitchen table, he sank down into one of the seats, looking directly at me. “There’s something I wanted to ask you,” he said.

  I swallowed, nodding as I tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “Okay.”

  “I was so rude to you—mean to you when it wasn’t even your fault. I’m sorry for that, seriously,” he said, running a heavy hand through his dark hair.

  “It’s okay,” I murmured.

  He nodded, swallowing noisily. “Why’d you do it?” he asked.

  “Do what?” It wasn’t that I didn’t know what he was talking about; I just didn’t want to relive it again, for him or myself.

  “Why did you step in?” he asked. “Why were you going to take the blow for me?”

  I looked into his eyes thoughtfully and his were serious, desperate for an answer. Finally he blinked and I sighed, pressing my lips. “I just… I know how much it hurts to be… hurt by someone that you think loves you. I didn’t want you to hurt anymore.”

  “So you stepped in the way and tried to take that hurt away from me?”

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Wow,” he breathed, his head lowering. He stared at the table for a few minutes, and to find something to do to occupy myself, I checked the oven. I then checked the noodles and saw they were done. I grabbed a strainer, dumped the noodles, and ran some cold water over them. “Thank you, Eliza,” Deed said from the table. I stopped the water, looking at him slowly. H
is eyes were soft, sincere. A few tears had run down his cheeks, but a small smile was on his lips.

  I placed the noodles down hurriedly, rushing to his side to hug him. “You don’t have to thank me, Deed.” I sighed, hugging him tighter, but not enough to hurt his ribs. He sniffled, running the back of his hand across his nose and getting rid of the tears, but after a while he gave up on it because the tears kept streaming. We stayed that way for a while until he stopped crying. When he did, I pulled away and sat in the seat across from him.

  “I just don’t get why you’ve allowed him to hit you for this long. Why didn’t you fight back?”

  He shrugged, wiping his red nose again. “Because although Bentley is abusive, he was the only one who supported my dream. He was the only one who liked that I was following after my drumming career. My mom hated it, and I know she still hates it because whenever I call her, she hardly says a thing to me. I’m the youngest of the band, twenty-two, and when we started getting noticed, I was a senior in high school. It was a decision to go after my dreams or to get my diploma. I chose my dreams and she hated my decision. After she and Bentley split, I didn’t hear from her for a while. Bentley gave up everything at home to join FireNine. I didn’t know how to thank him so I thought it was best to let him tag along.”

  “But shouldn’t he be proud of you? He shouldn’t hit you,” I said, getting even more upset about his past.

  “I’ll never understand Bentley.” He ran a stitched hand across his face. “He has a different way of showing how proud of me he is. He’s so strict and used to perfection that if I fuck up, he gets mad and hits me. He’s been a part of this band for so long. We were his way of making money. As much as I may not like him, he raised me and I do love him. I wanted him to be taken care of and I didn’t fight back because he’s probably done more for me than my mom has. He was more of a dad to me than my biological one…”