Who He Is

by S. Q. Williams

  “You really don’t get enough of black do you?” I teased.

  He chuckled and my gaze fell down to the V hidden beneath the waistband of his boxers. The Matthew McConaughey V. I wanted to drool over it, but he laughed at me, snapping me out of my daze. “Bath, Ellie,” he whispered, leaning forward to kiss my ear. I sparked with heat, nodding as I clutched his inked arms. “I’ll go play some music.”

  I nodded, knowing he was only using the music as a distraction. What he really wanted was for me to run the water, add bubbles, and then wait for him. I thought it was best to do just that, so I watched him step out and shut the door behind him.

  Sighing, I stepped in front of the mirror and ran a hand through my hair. It was odd that I was… smiling. Why am I smiling? I tried to drop the smile, but it kept returning. It kept showing up. I shook my head at myself, considering the Eliza in the mirror silly for her goofy grin.

  I ran some bath water, making sure it was warm and satisfying, added bubbles, and then stripped out of my bra and panties. I sank into the tub, releasing a heavy sigh. It felt ten times nicer than it looked. I washed myself up, getting rid of the paint all over my face and arms, and not long after, music played. I couldn’t believe my ears. Ed Sheeran, one of my favorite singers. Did he know? I wasn’t sure, but hearing Ed singing about giving him love made me smile like an idiot.

  Gage stepped into the bathroom moments later, raking a hand through his dark, tousled hair. He stepped behind me to get out of my view, and I heard uncomfortable shifting and rustling. Suddenly it felt awkward because I knew exactly what he was doing. I knew exactly what was wrong. He was nervous and he was most likely staring in the mirror, making sure he was stable enough to go through with the rest of this night. I took a peek over my shoulder to see him gripping the edges of the counter, staring directly at his reflection. His eyes were as hard as granite, his lips pressed into a tight line. Finally, he sighed and pulled back, and I turned forward quickly, sinking into the warmth of the water.

  I waited for what seemed like hours before he finally sighed again and stepped into the bath. I didn’t dare look at him. Ed Sheeran was on repeat, and hearing him sing about love was really getting to me. My heart banged against my chest and I grew nervous, wondering what Gage was going to do, say—anything. Whatever it was, I wasn’t prepared for it. Ben kept saying over and over again to get the truth out of him, but I didn’t want the truth. The truth was going to hurt both of us, so it was best to pretend nothing was here between us. It was safe to think we were still just a fling. But I knew we were way more than that… and I really didn’t know what to do about it.

  Gage shifted, clearing his throat. I looked up and his head was tilted, and he was smiling. “You okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” I breathed. Of course, it was a lie.

  He smirked wholeheartedly and then moved to my side. I smiled at him as he grabbed my hand and brought it to his lips. Right after he pulled his lips away, he licked them. “You look tense. Want a massage?”

  “Sure.” I turned slowly, my heart beating a mile a minute. Gage sighed, reaching for my shoulders and circling his thumbs on my shoulder blades. I eased up after a while as the music played and his fingers kneaded into my back. It felt nice, different. “You’re really good,” I said, laughing a little.

  “Yeah,” he breathed. I tensed then, hearing the huskiness of his voice. He moved in slowly, and I slid back to get between his legs. He continued the massage for a few more moments before stopping slowly, pulling my hair away from my neck, and kissing it. I clutched my thigh, tensing again. He kissed between my shoulder blades and I shuddered, delighted by the warmth of his feathery-light lips. He continued down, one hand on my shoulder, the other reaching around to get to my middle and pull me against him.

  Heat bombarded me and butterflies thrashed in the pit of my belly as he brought his lips back up and kissed the lobe of my ear. He then dropped his other hand from my shoulder to pull me against his body completely. He breathed into my hair, his whole body rigid. He was panting and his thick erection caved into my back. I moaned and he whispered my name faintly, begging me to turn around.

  I turned around and sat on his lap. The water moved between us, but as I inched in closer, all I could feel was him against me. As I stared into his eyes, they were glazed over with passion, fire, yearning… I thought I caught love, but he blinked quickly and pulled my face to his. He kissed me, his tongue lapping over mine and his panting picking up with each coax of his tongue. He swallowed my moans, his hands still clasping my face. I laced my arms around his neck, moving against him as if it would get me any closer. I knew what I wanted. I knew the only way to feel completely near him was if he were inside me.

  “God, Eliza,” he breathed raggedly, pulling his lips away to kiss my neck. My head fell back so I could expose my neck and let him taste me eagerly. “I’ve never felt like this before,” he whispered.

  “Like what?”

  “This,” he said between kisses on my collarbone. “I’ve never… wanted a woman so much.” He stopped kissing me slowly to get a look into my eyes, but I was already staring at him, shocked. I tried not to panic because I knew I wasn’t mistaken. There was love behind those eyes. Whole, passionate, and incredibly deep love. And I couldn’t ignore it.

  He probably thought my silence was meant for him to keep talking, but I wished he hadn’t. He pulled me in by my lower back, keeping us close as he spoke. Our eyes were locked. It was hard for me to look away from him. “I think about you day and night, Eliza. I wake up and wish every morning you were lying in my bed beside me. Every time I’m really smiling, it’s because I’m with you or I’m thinking about you.” He shook his head, his gaze lowering. “I’ve felt something between us for so long, Eliza. So long. I’ve tried blocking it, ignoring it, avoiding it, and just remaining casual, but… I can’t anymore. Not with you. I know if I try to pretend this doesn’t matter—that we don’t matter—then I might end up hurting you, and the last thing I wanna do is hurt you. I could never hurt you because hurting you is… hurting me.”

  Tears stung my eyes as he pulled one arm away to run his hand over his face. “Gage.” I choked, still not blinking.

  “Eliza… don’t. I told you, don’t say my name like that. Don’t try and deny it. I’ve known it before I took your virginity. I’ve known it since day one of the tour. You were different, unlike the rest. With the other girls, it’s nothing. With you I feel something. With you I can actually be myself. Instead of forcing smiles, you allow me to do so freely. Instead of holding back, you allow me to give my all.” He cupped my face, his hazel eyes hard on mine. “Don’t leave me, Eliza. You can’t… I need you too much. I love you too much.”

  I choked again and then I broke into a sob. He looked me over, his eyes just as sad as mine, stinging with tears. I tried to pull away, but he held on. I wanted him to let me go, but more than anything I wanted to stay in his arms. I just wanted him to hold me. I never wanted to leave him, but I knew in only three days I was going to have to and it was going to crush both of us. His thumbs brushed my cheeks and then he pulled me forward to kiss my cheek.

  “I know you love me, Eliza,” he whispered. “I love you. I’m in love with you. And tonight I wanna prove it.”

  More tears fell as Gage stood and picked me up with him. He stepped out of the tub with me in his arms and went for the bedroom. More candles were flickering in the large room. They danced across the walls behind my blurry eyes. I hated crying. I felt so weak. What I really wanted to do was smile and enjoy my night with him.

  Gage laid me on the bed, kissing my forehead repeatedly as he parted my legs with his knee. He stared at my tearstained face, but his eyes adored me, as if he found me more beautiful than ever. His kisses started at my cheeks, my nose, and then my lips. He kissed my lips repeatedly, cupping my face. Ed Sheeran was still on repeat and my tears thickened, but he simply brushed them away with his thumb.

  Damn it, why couldn’t I stop c
rying? Was it because I knew what I felt wasn’t fake? Was it because I knew that even though he wanted me to stay, I would have to leave anyway? Thinking about the last question brought more hot tears to my eyes. I had a scholarship. I couldn’t lose it. I worked too hard for it.

  He looked past my tears, placing his lips on mine over and over again. He then moved southward, kissing my collarbone, my chest, slowly licking each nipple, kissing the cave in stomach, my belly button. He got to my sweet area and kissed me there, too. My toes curled as he kissed my thighs, my knees, and even each toe. I giggled at that one, and soon my tears evaporated.

  He stood from the bed, dug in his bag for a condom, slid it on, and then climbed between my legs again. I expected him to go straight for it, but he didn’t. Instead, he kissed me deeply, delicately, as if I were fragile and he might break me. I ran my fingers over the ridges of his abdomen and the tight curves of his arms. He groaned, kissing my neck and causing my head to fall back.

  “I’m making love to you tonight, Eliza,” he whispered in my ear, his voice heavy and husky.

  My throat tightened, but I swallowed all emotions and nodded my head, bringing his face to mine again. I kissed him, pulling his body against mine so no space could be between us. I wrapped my legs around him, clinging to him for dear life, as if he would just randomly leave me.

  He slid inside me slowly, pulling his lips away to get a look into my eyes. I stared back as the full feeling consumed me, causing a moan to brush past my lips. His eyes were soft with an edge of steel as he focused on every emotion that took hold of my face. This wasn’t like it was when he took my virginity. I thought that was the best time of my life, but I was wrong. This was better because this wasn’t just sex. This was love. Fiery, intense love, and I was enjoying it. He groaned as he thrust into me, stroking as gently as he could and lifting my leg around him to bury himself deeper.

  He lowered himself, his fingers sliding up my arm to get tangled with mine. His other hand was in my hair as he kissed me over and over again. I could tell he wanted to let go, that he wanted to just release. By the glazed look in his eyes, I saw it coming, but he squeezed my hand and continued until I was there. Until I screamed his name, dragged my fingernails through the creases of his back, and moaned into his mouth.

  He emptied himself right after me, grunting against my neck and shuddering a dozen times. Sweat spilled from his body and onto mine as he fell on top of me, both of us breathing heavily. His fingers were still tangled with mine. His breath trickled onto my neck and my ear, and I was completely satisfied with him against me.

  I tangled my fingers through his hair and after a few moments, he whispered something to me that almost made me cry again. It was heartfelt, deep, and I knew he meant it.

  “I love you, Eliza.”

  “I love you, too, Gage. So much,” I whispered.

  He seemed content with my reply because he leaned up on his elbow, kissed me while cupping my face, and then fell onto his back beside me with a heavy sigh. He was staring at me for a while, and I grabbed his hand again. He brought up his hand, my fingers still entwined with his, to kiss my knuckles, his gaze deep.

  Caring.

  Sincere.

  Loving.

  I couldn’t look away.

  Finally, he turned his head, but his fingers were still laced with mine. He stared at the ceiling as if in deep thought, but then his eyelids grew heavy and soon they shut. His panting transformed into even breathing, his chest sinking and rising. I knew he was about to fall asleep, but I had one question I really needed an answer to.

  “Gage?” I whispered.

  “Hmm?” He sounded restless.

  “Why was it so hard for you to take my virginity?”

  His breathing picked up again as he tensed. I held on to him tighter, listening as his heartbeat sped up. “I don’t know… My sister, I guess,” he murmured. I remained quiet, hoping he would continue, and surprisingly he did. “She was raped when she was eighteen. I hated that it happened to her because all she used to talk about before it happened was how she couldn’t wait to meet the right guy and give herself to him. She said it was going to be the best feeling in the world.” His voice cracked and my heart ached for him, holding on even tighter. “There was one night when she was crying about it and I tried to comfort her. She told me to promise her to never take a girl’s virginity unless I was planning on loving that girl.” My heart skipped a beat, and then he kissed my forehead. “I didn’t know if I was ready to face love with you, Eliza,” he whispered.

  I nodded my head, completely understanding. I didn’t know either and now that he explained it, it made me feel much better. That night when he took my virginity, I knew he loved me. He was falling for me even more while taking my innocence away. It comforted me to know he loved me way before I’d even given thought to it.

  Sighing, Gage kissed my forehead again. I knew he didn’t want to talk about it anymore, so I kept quiet, listening as his breathing evened out again. Ten minutes had passed and he’d become completely still. The tension faded, letting me know he’d fallen asleep.

  I turned on my back, staring up as the ceiling spun above me. More tears threatened to spill, but I bit them back, begging my body to hold off. Unfortunately, my body worked against me, knowing I needed to let it out. My heart knew just as much as my mind did that in less than seventy-two hours, Gage and I were going to go our separate ways. He was opening up to me so much and I didn’t want to let it go.

  It killed me to know I would be leaving all of this behind, and the tears grew heavier, but I made sure not to sob. I didn’t want to wake him. I didn’t want him to know I couldn’t stay. I was getting his hopes up by not telling him, but… I just couldn’t. The look in his pleading eyes squeezed my heart and tore me apart. He was going to expect me to stay with him for the rest of the tour, but that wasn’t going to happen. I had to get back to my own life. To reality. I had to go back to school, study, and get my degree. I had to make a living for myself, and I couldn’t do that with Gage—not when he was going to constantly be on the go. Not when he had his own dreams to chase and his own accomplishments to take care of. Maybe in the future we could work something real out, but right now, we weren’t ready. I wasn’t ready.

  We lived two completely different lives and it was unfortunate that I couldn’t be a part of his like he wanted me to be. I couldn’t be by his side at all times, even though it was all I wanted. I had to put my priorities first and that was school. I refused to be like my mother, who dropped out of college. I wanted to be better than her and prove to myself that I could do it.

  At least Ben was right about one thing between Gage and me. I’d found out the truth from Gage. I knew how he really felt about me. I knew how I felt about him as well. It was too strong not to feel. He pulled me in each day, with each smile and each hug. Each tender kiss and each moment we shared together. It sucked that at the end of all our fun, it was going to hurt him to watch me leave. I didn’t want to hurt him and knowing we were going to have to part ways was already ripping me in two. I didn’t know exactly what he would do, how he would handle my decision once I told him. I really didn’t want to say good-bye at all. I just wanted to leave… but I knew that would hurt him and break his heart even more.

  I broke down then, facing the truth. On Sunday, the morning after their show, I was leaving to work for my own future, and I didn’t know when I was going to see Gage Grendel again.

  And damn it, it killed me.

  I watched Gage sleep for most of the night. He always looked so peaceful when he slept. He mumbled a few names in his sleep. One was mine (and at the sound of it my heart thumped rapidly with delight) and the others were Kris and Mom. I worried he was having a nightmare because he started shaking and grumbling beneath his breath. If I weren’t mistaken, a tear had fallen while he was still sleeping.

  I reached for him immediately, shaking him out of his slumber. He inhaled deeply, his eyelids fluttering open as he clut
ched my hand. “It’s okay, Gage. I’m still here,” I whispered, stroking his hair. He was still panting uneasily, staring into my eyes. His were glistening beneath the pale moonlight, and I sighed. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  He shook his head, blinking rapidly as he pushed on his elbows to sit up. “Uh… nothing. Just a nightmare.” He sighed, running a rough hand through his hair. I studied him thoughtfully, my head tilting.

  “Do you wanna talk about it?”

  “No. We should probably go back to sleep.”

  I frowned. “Gage, please tell me what that was about. You were crying in your sleep.”

  “It happens.” He shrugged, his gaze drifting to avoid mine.

  I reached for his face, forcing him to look at me. “Tell me,” I whispered, kissing his lips. “Please. I swear I won’t judge you. I have no room to judge anyone, Gage.”

  His eyebrows furrowed, his eyes glistening again. He pulled his face away and sighed again, swallowing noisily. He then reached for the sheets to pull them over us again. He pulled me against him and I wrapped my arm around his middle, pressing my cheek against his chest. “I’ll tell you if you tell me why you have PTSD.”

  I swallowed but nodded because, even though he didn’t know it, I’d promised him and myself a long time ago that I would spill something in exchange for some background on him. “Okay. I will. Promise,” I whispered.

  Gage sighed, bringing his free hand up to his face and running his palm over it. His back was against the headboard, and as I looked up, he was staring across the room, suddenly in deep thought.

  “Just tell me what you want to know,” he murmured.

  “Tell me about Kristina.”

  He stilled for a minute, but I grabbed his hand, assuring him it was going to be okay. “Kristina,” he breathed out, squeezing my hand. “She was my favorite person on Earth… after my mom died.” He paused again, swallowing the emotion. “My mom died when I was four years old, but I swear I remember everything about her. She called me her little prince, her hero. Her miracle.”