Broken (The Addictive Trilogy Book 2)

by Ashley Love

  I'm here, it whispers. But I know he's not. He's not here. I have to be strong enough to do this without him.

  He moans, almost growls into my neck as his hips keep pressing and he kisses up and down the column of my throat, lips pulling gently at my skin, one hand reaching impatiently for the slit of his boxers to slip himself out. My hands slide down his back and push at the last scrap of fabric between us and he consents, hurrying out of the shorts.

  When he finally pushes inside me he lays against me, skin on skin, and I wrap my arms around his back and everything stops. His face falls into my neck and we lay there, breathing, holding each other.

  "Merry Christmas, Lex." I shrug, smiling shyly.

  "Merry Christmas, baby," he sighs and I melt when he says it. God, he's really here.

  I reach for him but I'm nervous, and so is he as our arms reach out in the same path. We chuckle awkwardly as we try to reposition ourselves a few times until we finally pull each other close, my arms around his broad shoulders and his around my waist. It's a friendly hug, a firm embrace, but as I start to slightly pull back from him, his arms tighten around me, one hand slipping up around my ribcage while the other slides down around my hips, fully encircling me, and I hear him—God, I hear him—and I feel him breathe me in so deep as he tilts his face into my neck, letting out a shaky sigh. I feel bad, but I can't help but stiffen a little because he's never ever done this before. Never held me so close like he doesn't want to let go, and I just...ugh, my heart just breaks.

  I clutch him. I wrap my arms back around his shoulders so tight, squeezing my eyes shut to keep my tears at bay as my fingertips dig into his back. I nuzzle his neck, trembling inside and panting as I try not to cry despite the fact that I've never ever felt this much emotion with him, wrapped in his arms, feeling his chest expand as he breathes me in, and what if...

  What if he needs me just as much as I need him? What if that's why he's here? Is that this feeling swimming around us? Because this is more than a friendly hug of gratitude for some stupid Christmas ornaments. No, this is...it's a moment. A moment of something. Weakness? Need? Want? Maybe it's all of that. But whatever it is, it steals my breath and makes my heart pound, and as much as I've tried to convince myself since I've been here that what we have isn't special and worth fighting for, I just don't know if I could ever feel this way with anyone else. I know I couldn't.

  My arms slide from around his shoulders and rest curled in between us as I take his face in my hands, lifting it from my neck, but he doesn't let me go. He grips me tight and presses his forehead to mine, eyes closed, and I just hold his face as wetness steals down my cheeks against my will. And I don't want him to think I'm weak and sensitive but he could never understand what it would mean to me for him to need me the same way that I need him.

  He finally pulls his face back and opens his eyes, smiling weakly when my tear-filled eyes stare back into this own and he sighs again, shaking his head at me. And I still don't know what it is about this moment, but it's absolutely perfect, and I want to tell him. I want to tell him so many things right now, looking into his eyes, because when he looks at me like that...so lost and uncertain yet whole and completed at the same time...when he looks at me like that, I think he needs to hear me tell him. Tell him that I'm here and tell him that no matter who else he thinks he's lost, his parents, his brother, his friends, that he hasn't lost me. That I'm his and I always will be.

  I hug him tighter, kissing along his neck and shoulder and he pulls back so I can kiss his mouth. He looks down at me, his arms hooked under my shoulders, hands between my back and the mattress, his body inside mine, and the corners of his mouth turn up into a small smile, his entire face softening. A look of ease sets into his eyes, a look of comfort, something I haven’t seen in a long time. He licks his lips and presses them to mine again and again, soft swollen mouth sliding wetly against my own.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he breathes against my lips and kisses them again.

  I sigh, looking at him, really studying him for the first time in a long time, waiting for him to tell me whatever it is he wants to say. I really can't get over how much he's just...Alex tonight. Maybe it's the absence of all his stupid business phones, maybe it's the Mexican restaurant and the memories, maybe it was the dancing in the street, but something about this is so much easier than it was before. And I would be a liar if I said I didn't want it to always be this way.

  His lips spread into a slow easy grin and his eyes are doing that soft thing again. "You look like that first night we met."

  My chest tightens and my heart races a little at his confession, and I can place that way he's looking at me now. He's reminiscing. He's remembering back before all of this shit got so fucked up and I feel tears threatening my eyes because what if he wants to get back to that just as badly as I do?

  "Drunk in the bar?" I tease him a little, just testing him, my voice wavering from the shock still partially registered in my gut, but I smirk at him to cover it up, trying to take the edge off of what he just said. I know that's not how he meant it, but I can't just take it and run, I can't get too deep into this, because how I feel right now...with him saying these things, and doing these things...this whole night is shaping up to be more dangerous than I had thought. I can't fall for him again, not this quickly, not deeper than I've already fallen for him. Because it's going to hurt too bad when he isn't there to catch me.

  I see the blush rise in his cheeks as he chuckles. "You know that's not what I mean."

  "Well what do you mean?" My voice is soft and I lower my eyes to him and goddamn if I'm not trying to make him say it. I want him to give me something. I can't always be the one running around telling him how I feel about him. And if he's gonna make any sort of confession, at the rate we're going tonight is looking like the night.

  His eyebrows raise and I know he's a little surprised at the ease with which I'm coming on to him, shamelessly flirting, and I see his posture stiffen a bit. He clears his throat, his eyes flitting away from mine, and I go back to my menu, deciding on tacos, convinced that I've shocked him into silence, chalking the conversation up as finished.

  "I mean, you're beautiful. Just like when I first saw you...

  Tears course down my face immediately just from his simple words. I don’t know what’s happening tonight but he’s here and he’s letting himself feel this and experience it and it’s almost like nothing we’ve ever shared before. It’s almost too much to take, but when he starts moving inside me suddenly I still can’t get enough.

  “Are you okay?” His hips slow slightly as he looks at me curiously, labored breaths fanning my face. I just nod and close my eyes, pulling one hand away from his back to wipe at my face. “Do you want me to stop?”

  I shake my head almost before he finishes asking, wrapping my arms back around his neck and burying my face there, tears smearing against his skin and I just can’t stop thinking that this, tonight, is our last night together.

  “Even if it’s not perfect, somebody’s gonna be worth it.”

  He’s worth it. He’s worth everything, and even if this ends tomorrow I was so lucky to have someone in my life who understands me the way he does. Someone who took care of me the way he’s taken care of me, someone who’s accepted me just the way I am. That’s love. That’s love and I don’t care if he’s never said it before, I love him more than anything. I’ll never love another man the way I love Lex.

  “Leala…I really can’t do this with you crying and shit,” he mumbles next to my ear, his voice strained, and I hadn’t even realized that I’ve been sniffling and whimpering into his neck almost the entire time we’ve been doing this.

  “I’m sorry,” I whine quietly, pulling back and wiping at my face again and he finally just stops with a sigh, pulling out and looking down at me. “I’m sorry, Lex, you don’t have to stop.”

  “We don’t have to do this.”

  I cough out a dry sob. “I want to. W
hat if tonight is—”

  “Hey…” He shakes his head at me, his thumb sweeping across the wet skin under my eye. “What did I say about that?”

  “But…I want to.” My pathetic hiccup makes him smile a little.

  “I do too. But not while you’re like this.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Stop. Let’s get some sleep.” He starts to crawl under the covers, pulling them up so I can slide over next to him.

  “But you’re—”

  “I’ll live,” he insists, giving me a pointed look before beckoning me softly, “C’mon/”

  I scoot over next to him and he turns away a little so I can cuddle against his back. I lay my cheek against his skin, the roundest part of his back resting against my chest, wide and warm and expanding with his breaths. I run my hand down his side and just try to remember this…the way he smells, the way his skin feels, the way he relaxes in to me when I press my lips to his shoulder. And so we just lay there, those same broken kids, now a little more broken trying to imagine what it will be like to live without each other.

  30

  The next morning is sort of muddled, my eyes tired and weak from tears, my mind a haze of touches and kisses and memories that made my heart ache through most of my sleepless night. I snap slightly when I roll over and Lex isn’t next to me, his half of the mattress a mess of tangled sheets, his boxers discarded at the foot of the bed. The shower is running in the adjoining bathroom, the door hanging half-open, and the sound pulls me to my feet. Halfway to the door I realize my shirt is on backwards and simply tug it over my head as I step onto the cool tiles, slightly damp from hot steam.

  I pull the shower curtain back a little and he’s there, one hand against the wall, his head hung under the hard hot spray, just standing, letting the water beat down on his neck, breathing. I step over the side of the tub and in behind him, my hands sliding against his waist. It makes him jump slightly but he doesn’t move, just lets me hug him from behind, my lips pressing against the wet skin of his back as the water slides down over it.

  “Why didn’t you wake me up?” I ask quietly, my voice still thick from sleep.

  He pulls back from the spray and replies over his shoulder just as quietly, “I didn’t wanna bother you.”

  There’s something timid about our exchange, something fearful, like we’re trying to pretend what’s coming isn’t really going to happen, both of us trying to avoid it. “You didn’t think I would wanna get in with you?”

  “I just…I didn’t think about it, Leala, okay?” The edge in his voice gives his tension away. He turns to me with a sigh and leans his shoulder against the wall of the shower. “I haven’t thought about much at all today,” he confesses, finally letting his anxiety surface a little.

  I nod, my arms slipping back around his waist, pulling him closer. “Are you scared?”

  “Nah. I’ll be alright.” He runs a hand over my hair, letting the other settle against my lower back. “What about you? Are you gonna be okay?”

  Good question. I shake my head, and I would really give anything if I could just stop crying everytime I think about it.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Don’t fucking cry, baby. I can’t take anymore.”

  I look away and wipe my face. At this point my emotions are just humiliating. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry about last night too.” I keep wiping at my face until he grabs my wrists. He holds them until I look up at him.

  “It’s okay…I just worry about you, you know.” His thumb brushes against my cheek, wiping away the last stray tear and I just nod, my hands settling on his chest as he leans down to kiss me.

  All I want is to hear him say he’s coming back for me like he always does, that this isn’t the end, but there’s something in his eyes when his lips leave mine, an uncertainty that shakes me. He doesn’t know that this is something he can get out of. He honestly doesn’t know if he’s coming back this time, and I don’t either.

  “This is goodbye, isn’t it?” My lips and hands both tremble. In these five years that we’ve spent together this is the one thing we’ve never done, said a goodbye to each other. I’ve never even gone away for a weekend without him. I was never interested in things that didn’t involve him.

  Now I don’t have much choice.

  “No. It’s just…” he trails, and he can’t even look me in the eyes, his gaze fixed on the shower floor, searching for the words, the words to soothe me, to heal my breaking heart. “It’s just see you later,” he finally breathes, his eyes meeting mine, and I refuse to believe the tears there. His unsteady breaths, his clenched jaw, I explain it all away in my mind, chalk it up to fear, anything but the same heart-wrenching sadness that’s had me crying for days. This Lex wouldn’t feel that, he wouldn’t let himself.

  See you later. Four years or four months later neither of us knows for sure, but our fate will be decided mere hours from now. See you later.

  My hands cup his face and his lips are on mine instantly. There’s something desperate in it, something needy. We’re still trying to hold onto that thing, that thing that we each possess that has somehow held us together, healed us over the years, if not healed then at least made us a little better. We make each other better, how are we supposed to be without each other?

  He moves us under the showerhead, lips still pulling at mine, hands sliding slickly against my skin as the water slides around and between us. My hands paw at him wildly, holding the back of his head as our lips and breaths meld as if we’re trying to take and give life, one to the other. I feel the tiles of the wall against my back and I hadn’t even noticed him moving us again but he presses his body to mine and I clutch him instinctively, our lips finally separating, faces burying in each other’s necks. All we can do is hold each other and pray.

  My heart is racing, beating so hard I feel the blood pumping into my fingertips. They curl in against the skin of his back, my arms hugging him so tight because what if this is the last time I ever get to feel him against me, to hold him and feel close to him, and just…love him.

  “I love you,” I say it against his ear before I can stop myself.

  Fuck.

  His back goes rigid, his face pulling from my neck almost immediately, eyes staring at me in bewilderment. “What?”

  The weight of my words hits me instantly, my hand coming up to my mouth, and I mumble beneath it.,“I’m sorry. I meant to tell you for a long time—”

  “Stop,” he snaps, stepping away from me, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

  Tears are full and spilling out before my brain can even process the thought of not crying. “I do, Lex. I can’t help it. I—”

  “Stop it, Leala.” His voice is hard, irritated, as if we’re five and I’m poking him with a stick on the playground. Just something to annoy him. But this is beyond child’s play…I love him.

  “I love you, Lex.”

  “Stop!” he growls. His hand seizes my face and presses the back of my head against the tile of the shower wall.

  “I love you!!” My scream rips my vocal chords raw, my nails dragging jagged marks down his stomach.

  “No!” He grips my face tighter, his eyes filling with tears, his body teeming with rage so that he trembles. What kind of person doesn’t want to hear someone tell them they love them? “You do not love me. I am fucked up, Leala. You cannot love someone like me.”

  I flinch and a whimper pushes from my throat when he shouts, “Fuck!” and storms out of the shower, leaving me standing there, stunned. He’s gone for five, ten, thirty seconds and it hits me. I sob loudly, the sound echoing harshly off the walls, and cover my mouth in my attempts to suppress it but it seizes my entire body, pulling me down to the floor of the shower, broken.

  The sound of Lex slinging back the shower curtain minutes later makes me jump. My head snaps up and he’s there, fully dressed, the black of his polo shirt making him stand out harshly against the whiteness of t
he bathroom. I watch in a hazy confused stupor as he turns the water off and I still sit there in the tub, knees in my chest and tears streaming steadily down my cheeks.

  “Stop crying. Get out.” It’s a command. Not gentle, there’s no indication that he wants to talk this over or try and make things right, he just wants me to stop. He’s through with this. I ruined it.

  This simple thought makes me cry harder.

  He shakes his head at me and turns to lean against the sink, head hung, voice low and callous. “I cant fucking believe you. Why would you even say that to me? How can you do this? When you know I’m about to be gone.”

  His eyes cut over to me and there is insurmountable anger in his gaze. But beneath that there’s fear, a fear that hurts me to the bone because it’s the same fear that’s been searing in my veins for the past three days. The fear that this is it for us. It’s all I can do to keep my hands over my mouth to muffle my cries. My entire body trembles and I feel like someone’s performed open heart surgery on me while I was still awake. That’s the only way I can explain this tightness in my chest, the pain, the excruciating pain in my heart.

  He just stares at me in disbelief until apparently he can't watch my hysterics anymore.

  “Fuck this, I have to go. You wanna sit in there and cry…then sit in there and fucking cry.” He pushes away from the sink and all I see through my tears is his back turned to me as he walks out.

  Because if there’s one thing that always causes Lex pain, it’s looking back.

  31

  I know I cried for at least an hour solid once I heard the front door close and I knew it…I knew he was gone. I knew if he was sentenced to prison I wouldn’t see him again. They would take him away that afternoon. I wouldn’t even get a fucking goodbye. I sat on the floor of the shower and cried until I couldn’t cry anymore and I was dry…my tears were dry and my body was dry, all because I sat there so long…in misery, crushed, heartbroken, completely inconsolable.