His kisses are always bruising and I’m often left with marks the next day. Tonight, he’s extra eager, latching onto my neck like a hungry vampire.
When I wake up in the morning, my bladder is ready to burst. I jump out of bed and throw on one of Aiden’s t-shirts as I run to the bathroom.
Holy shit. The mirror shows all the evidence of our previous night’s trysts is screaming at me in the face. There’s a large purplish hickey sitting on the center of my throat.
“Aiden! Look at what you did.” I burst into the room, pointing at my neck, although it’s not like he needs any help finding the hickey.
The traitor finds it hilarious, laughing like a damn hyena at the damage he’s caused.
“It’s not funny! I have to work with Seth this morning.” I don’t need my boss to know about my sex life—especially when it involves another coworker.
Not even my hair will cover the mark because it’s sitting in the front of my freaking neck. Who does that? I can’t cover it up with a turtleneck because it’s the middle of summer and it’s so dark it shows through several layers of makeup. Awesome.
I force myself to pull away from him and offer a quick kiss him goodbye, promising to see him later—in a few hours at work, to be exact. I still can’t get over how hot it is that I was with him last night and we work with our boss today who’s none the wiser.
Work with Seth is always fine, albeit boring, but at least the hours pass with ease. Aiden shows up at noon and my mood improves tenfold.
That is, until my sister stops by without warning. My eyes go wide as saucers as soon as I see her enter the store. I walk up to her before Seth or Aiden can greet her and treat her like a customer.
“Hey! What’re you doing here?” I think my voice has risen eight octaves and I’m toying with my lanyard so I have something to do with my hands.
“I had to pick something else up so I thought I’d drop in and say hi.” I never told her the extent of my relationship with Aiden, so I don’t think she’s in here to check him out. Though, if I talk about him as much as everyone claims I do, then maybe it’s obvious.
We shoot the shit for a while, but with Seth working I can’t stand around and chat. She gets ready to leave, but smirks before making her last remark.
“Next time, make sure you cover your hickey better.” My eyes bug out of my head with how wide they are, and embarrassment settles over me. My cheeks heat to one million degrees, meaning I would appear to have a bad case of sunburn.
I reach for my hair to cover the bruise, even more aware and self-conscious of it now. My sister turns and walks out of the store while I’m stuck frozen in my spot. I think my air maxes are glued to the carpet.
If she noticed within five minutes, then I have no doubt Seth noticed it right away too. This day can’t get any worse. Damn Aiden and his suction-cup lips.
When I tell the culprit my freaking sister of all people called me out on it, he has the audacity to laugh. “You’re an adult—who cares?” Um, hello! Have you not been listening? I care! I’m eighteen and I still live at home. I’m sure my parents will also care.
His cocky grin spurs me on and I’m mischievous and playful as I shove him to wipe the smugness off his sexy mug. The electricity from the brief contact shoots up my arm. Will I ever get sick of him and his effect on me?
It’s ridiculous how he somehow makes our boxy, plain work shirts look good. I can’t stop staring at him. Soon Seth will catch on like he caught onto my infatuation with Reid. I need to chill out.
But Aiden and I don’t know how to chill out. He corners me in the stockroom and glances over his shoulder to make sure no one else is around. But, since it’s the three of us working and someone has to be on the floor at all times, that means Seth is in the front of the store, therefore we’re safe. And gloriously alone.
“I like knowing I’m the one who marked you and I like that everyone can see you’re taken.” His voice is low and gruff. Emotion pours into each word, spoken with a clear, careful precision.
He leans low and I lick my lips in anticipation for his kiss, but he’s a tease, grinning, as he pushes off the wall and spins around to walk out of the stockroom. He offers one final glance with the smile still grazing his perfect mouth. He knows he’s tormenting me, but I love to watch him go.
His beautiful, athletic—lean but muscular. His calves are defined and somehow even they’re sexy. I stare at his ass without an ounce of shame as he walks away. I notice him adjust his glasses before pushing open the door and I’m sure he sees me press my hands to my stomach, catching my breath.
I walk on unsteady legs to join my coworkers, feeling like a newborn fawn and Aiden didn’t even touch me. I’m ready to collapse from his stare alone. Or maybe, in part, the sneaking around is starting to overwhelm me—even worse since he’s been promoted.
Worse…or even hotter?
15
Walls
Since the night Aiden’s grandma passed, it has become a habit for me to sneak out of my house at all hours of the night to be with Aiden. I’m at his beck and call, always. I want him to understand he can always count on me and I’ll always be available for him.
That’s what I tell myself, anyway. The real motive is much more depressing. School is approaching at the speed of light, meaning he and I need to get as much time together as possible before I leave. It’s not like I’ll be far—a mere hour away, but still. I won’t be able to up and leave to be with him like I can now.
Plus, it’s not even a conversation we’ve had yet. I can tell it’s wearing on him because he’s become clingy as the end of summer nears. He never stops touching me and wanting to be with me, not that I’m complaining.
Not only am I about to start my first year of college but he’s about to start his final year. It’s a fact that has been weighing on me, but I’m trying my best to not let it show how it’s affecting me. To add icing to the cake, I’m transferring stores. I wanted to keep my job so I have money and there’s a mall two minutes from campus. It’s convenient but also horrible timing for my relationship.
At work we’ve been busy because of back-to-school season. Our schedules are jam-packed and the only time we have together is at night. I cherish the moments I spend with him. Even when I’m dead tired and can’t keep my eyes open to drive to his place, I never turn him down. I can’t.
There’s another major item gnawing at my conscious. My period is late. My period is never late, thanks to birth control.
I haven’t informed Aiden of this little hiccup yet because I’ve chosen to ignore it for the time being. I have too much on my plate right now.
Why get worked up and get him involved when it’s probably nothing? It’s likely stress-induced. I have faith the issue will resolve on its own so I’m pretending I’m not freaked the fuck out. Really. It’s fine.
All these realizations come crashing down on me and it’s a hard pill to swallow. How sad and stressed I am over the the impending changes further solidifies the depth of my feelings for him.
I’m sitting on my bedroom floor with my mom and sister packing up a bunch of my clothes and things. Even though I’ll be a short forty-five minutes from home, I still need to bring most of my clothes with me. I won’t resort to being the girl who walks around naked. And I don’t plan to come home all the time.
I’m texting Aiden, but packing while talking to him is overwhelming. It’s colliding the two things I’m desperate to keep separate. My future at school versus my future with him—if I even have a future with him. The thought nauseates me.
I’m being short with him, my temper and anxiety fusing in the worst possible outcome. I’m taking my mood out on the one person who doesn’t deserve it. My fear is causing me to lash out at him when in reality he’s the one thing I’m holding onto for dear life.
Either he’s concerned by my messages or he’s calling me out on my shit, because my phone is ringing and his name is on the screen.
“Hey,” I answer the
call and it’s ironic I have to leave my own room to get privacy. I would be self-conscious talking to him in front of my family and he doesn’t need any more weirdness from me. If anything, he needs and deserves complete transparency. Plus, my family is nosy and would ask too many questions.
“Hey. What’s going on?” He clears his throat and his voice wavers, unsteady. He’s bleeding curiosity and anxiety through the phone.
“Nothing.” My tone is curt and snippy, defensive—it’s my fatal flaw. I don’t like being called out and being questioned, so I flip the script. I need to know what he wants and why he’s calling. I’m on edge, upset over my innumerable problems and concerns, and I respond by lashing out. I’m such a fucking coward.
“What’s wrong?” His raspy voice is tender, laced with worry, and it’s my undoing. Tears spring in my eyes in an instant. He knows me better than I realize. He can see the burden of doubt I’ve been carrying around with me these past couple of weeks, so much so it’s occupying my every single day and every thought. I’ve not been myself with him. Surely he can see the change. He’d have to be blind to miss it.
I inhale a long, deep breath, looking for a steady breath. A sob threatens to escape, but I swallow it before it comes out. “We need to talk.” I can’t believe I said those four words to him. They’re the relationship kiss of death. He’ll think I’m ending things when, God, it’s the complete opposite. I want to scream about how scared I am to leave him.
I open my mouth to elaborate, but he beats me to the punch.
“Are you pregnant?” The words are gritty and forced as if he pushed them out through clenched teeth. He’s angry, and he hasn’t even heard my answer yet.
My jaw goes slack and I’m thankful he can’t see me. “What? No, of course not!” My voice sounds high and foreign. This may be my first lie to him. On the other hand, I’m not positive I am pregnant. Can he read my mind or is that just the first conclusion men jump to? Likely the latter.
“I’m just worried about school…and leaving…” I let the sentence hang for a beat, but I’m too much of a chicken to give him a chance to talk. “I’ll talk to you more about it later.”
“Later? Are you inviting yourself over tonight?” Like a light switch he flips, and the smile return to his voice. I’m comfortable and secure enough with him to invite myself over knowing it won’t be a problem.
“Yep, I am. I’ll see you later.”
I return to my room where my mom and sister are still packing things up for me. I assumed my anxiety would lessen once I aired out my concerns to Aiden, but now the conversation is looming and I’m nervous all over again.
“Everything okay?” My mom asks me though I probably look like Ron Weasley right before he vomited up slugs—an unflattering shade of green and very nauseous.
“Mhm, all good.” The lies just keep coming.
∞ ∞ ∞
The need for this conversation vanishes when I walk into Aiden’s apartment and find him shirtless. He’s lounging in his living room and I all but attack him when I see him. I’m a lioness and he’s my prey. He doesn’t stand a chance.
A good forty-five minutes later we’re lying in his bed, sated and lazy. My head is resting on his chest and he’s stroking my back. I stare up at him because I’m restless whereas he’s calm—typical.
“Aiden.” His name is an exhale of worry on my lips. If he noticed, he doesn’t let on.
“Hmm?” He continues to stroke my back without missing a beat. It’s late—or early?—and the TV is on but it’s not like we’ve been paying it any attention.
“What is this?” We never made things official because of work, but I need answers. I’m already head over heels, irrevocably in love with him. I need to know what the future holds for us if it holds anything at all.
Are the feelings even at all mutual? Or does this start and end as a summer fling?
I’m laying flush against his body and I’m sure he feels my heart pounding erratically in my chest. I’m willing him to rip the Band-Aid off and put me out of my misery while also praying time stands still and I can savor these moments with him forever.
What’s even scarier is knowing even if, to him, it’s just a fling, I’ll still take Aiden any way I can get him. I won’t leave until he’s sick of me and even then I won’t go down without a fight.
“What is what?” He lifts his head, looking around like he’s trying to find an inanimate object I may be referencing and not the state of us.
I sit up, leaning on my right arm. I distract myself by toying his with wiry chest hair because I can’t look him in the eye when I ask him this. “Us. What are we?” Because I’m neurotic and anxious, I can’t even let him respond. I keep on rambling. “Because it’s your senior year of college, so you probably don’t want to be tied down. I get it. It’s fine.” Lie. “But I need to know if I’m just another fuck buddy to occupy your time or if it’s more than that. I already like you way more than I should, so if the feelings aren’t mutual I need to know, before I get in any deeper than I already am.” I exhale a shaky breath.
I don’t clue him in to the fact I’m already as deep as I can be with him. I’ve fallen hopelessly in love with him and I’m praying it’s mutual, but I keep my mouth shut about how intense my feelings are because I don’t want to scare him away.
I keep my hands busy and use my hair to shield my face. He doesn’t answer for a while, so I peek between the chestnut strands to see his expression. He’s grinning at me like I’m the funniest person in the world.
“Chels.” I still refuse to meet his gaze. He brushes my hair behind my ear and leans up to kiss me. I melt into the contact, always craving more of him.
“I want this. I want to be with you. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be risking my job every day for you. I don’t care that it’s my senior year of school—I don’t need to be single for that. I only want to be tied down if I’m tied to you.”
My heart flutters, feeling lighter and happier than I ever could’ve imagined. It’s my turn to offer a cheesy smile. My grin is so wide I fear I emulate the joker. I attack him and his chuckle in response is my favorite sound in the world.
He catches me and I kiss him, my euphoria transforming to arousal. We kiss until my lips are chapped and my chin is scratched from his scruff.
I’m so in love with him. The words tickle the tip of my tongue, begging to be said, but I don’t think either one of us are ready for my confession yet.
I compromise, using my touch to adore him and confess my love without the words leaving my lips. I worship his body. My lips touching his parallel my heart’s connection to his. My fingers gliding through his hair show him how tender my feelings are. My nails digging into the skin on his back explain I care for him so much it hurts.
I use these moments to relay the words I cannot say. I get so lost in him I don’t realize the one important detail that is otherwise screaming at me in the face.
He still never confirmed what we are. He wants to be with me, but never said I’m his girlfriend. Just because he wants it, doesn’t make it happen.
His words were pretty. He says wants to be with me. That’s enough, right?
16
Daylight
I leave tomorrow. To-freaking-morrow.
Tears threaten to fall for a multitude of reasons, but I’m also excited. I’m the nerd who has always loved school. I love back-to-school shopping, getting new notebooks and supplies, seeing all my friends on the first day—I thrive in school.
It’s always been easy. I can ace tests and papers without studying and starting projects the night before. I’m lucky—I also kind of sound like an asshole, but it’s true. School is just second nature.
The big caveat, however, is I had my friends in high school already established. I had the same group of friends I’d sit with at lunch every day or who I could partner with in class. I’m about to start at a new school with a bunch of new people and classes I’m not prepared for.
Still, I�
��m a little cocky. I’m sure the school aspect will be fine and I’ll figure it out. But I’m not convinced I’ll make friends that easy.
I’m leaving both my school and my work friends behind. That’s what terrifies me most. Well and leaving Aiden behind. But he falls into a category all his own.
I have to go to my new store and meet with my new boss Monday night after my first day of classes. I hope it all goes well and I get enough shifts, but I also don’t want to get overwhelmed. I’m going into college as a biology and psychology pre-med double major, meaning I’m going to be swamped already.
I finish packing and we load the cars for the drive down. We have to leave at the crack of freaking dawn—which is around seven in the morning. We have to make sure we can find the dorm, find parking, yadda yadda.
My dog sits beside me on the floor of my bedroom. I hold him and the tears spill over. I love my dogs more than anything in this world. I cry when I leave them for vacation. But this dog, my golden retriever who is moping because he sees my bags being packed, I can’t handle it. It puts me over the edge.
I lean down, hugging him and crying into his fur. I wish I could take him with me more than anything. I will miss him most of all. My other dog is my dad’s dog. I love her to death but she only has eyes for him. But Buddy, with his sad brown eyes and white-gold fur, is my baby.
No matter what time I come home at night, he greets me. He doesn’t care if it’s nine a.m. or four a.m.—he’s there with his wagging tail and happy grin. There’s no one more loyal than my golden is. My heart cracks right down the center imagining our goodbye tomorrow.
As I cuddle him on the floor and he licks the tears trailing down my cheeks, my phone vibrates against my dresser. I give Buddy a kiss on the side of his snout and push off the ground and up onto my knees so I can grab my phone.
Aiden. It’s the one name I hope to see when my phone goes off. My mouth pulls up in a full-on grin.
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