The Crashing Series

by Kristen Hope Mazzola

  With a shudder, I thought about what Walker had done the night before. Maybe he’d taken Cindy out on a date, or maybe they’d just gone to The Saloon and got sloshed. For some strange reason, I wanted to know. I felt like if it had been the latter, I wouldn’t be as mad. Or should I be madder? I was tormented and defeated, crying into my folded arms on top of my kitchen table, a blubbering fool.

  I jumped up when I felt a warm hand touch the small of my back. I looked up into Walker’s surly face and stared, unable to find any words to say to him. He knelt down beside me, resting his head on my thigh. With a big sigh, he breathed, “I am so sorry. I got drunk and she was there. I didn’t sleep with her.”

  I still couldn’t find words for him; I just sat still and silent, hoping he would elaborate.

  After a few minutes of silence, Walker finally got up the nerve to continue. “Mitch and I went to have a few beers. One thing led to another, and shots got involved. Once I was good and plastered, she pounced, but when she got back here, I couldn’t go through with it. I was too lit to kick her out and she was way too drunk to drive home, so I let her crash here.”

  I sat up straight quick and jerky like rusty cogs on a wheel, breaking our eye contact, feeling braver that way. “Walker, we’re friends. I have no say in what or who you do, but don’t lie to me about it. I’m sorry I overreacted.”

  I got up from the table, shuffling my feet over to finally pour myself coffee; hopefully the caffeine would take care of my throbbing head. I was hurt that he would make up a story. I knew Walker better than he thought—he never turned a girl down. I was relieved that he hadn’t taken her out on a date though; she was just a fuck buddy. I knew I would have been more upset if he had had an emotional connection with the tramp.

  I grabbed two mugs out of the cupboard and turned to Walker questioningly; he nodded. I poured our cups full and turned to him again. He walked over to the fridge and bent down to get the creamer. From the glow of the fridge lighting up his face, I could see tear streaks glistening down his cheek. His face was full of sorrow and anger, his jaw flexing and grinding aggressively. I couldn’t help but feel bad. I desperately wanted to know what his thoughts were and if they were as tangled and twisted as mine.

  He walked back over to the table and took a seat, trying to give me a failed half-smile. Seeing him that way forced longing to take over all of my emotions and rational thought.

  He put his head in his hands and started to cry a little softer. “Mags, why the fuck would I lie to you?” The desperation in his voice made the words sink in, and I knew right then that he hadn’t slept with her. I couldn’t help but be relieved.

  Without thinking it through, I set our mugs down on the table, grabbed Walker’s shirt, and pulled him up. I said softly, “I believe you,” and pulled him into as passionate a kiss as I could muster, grabbing both sides of his face hard with my shaking hands.

  It only took a second for Walker to register what was going on and pull me forcefully to him, one hand pressing up against my lower back, the other on the back of my neck. Walker effortlessly picked me up and brought me over to the couch. He lay down on top of me as I moaned into his mouth, my hands clutching his back and his hands roughly tangling in my hair. I could feel my heart rate rising, my skin growing hot with passion. I turned off my brain, just allowing myself to savor the closeness of Walker and how fantastic a kisser he was.

  When his tongue penetrated my lips, barely a whisper against my own, I tasted the mixture of coffee and cream still lingering on his tongue. It was somehow erotic—a secret shared between us, only revealed when we made love with our mouths. I moaned against him and felt the vibrations of it run through his mouth and reverberate back to me in some sort of passionate sound wave.

  As he kissed and nibbled my bottom lip, his right hand traveled down my cheek to my neck and then all the way to my hipbone. Grabbing on to me, he firmly pressed his fingertips into the sensitive skin over my tattoo. I gasped and groaned into his mouth, arching my back and thrusting gently into him.

  Quickly, Walker flipped me on top of him and pushed me away, looking directly into my eyes. “Mags?” His breath caught as he started panting, his bedroom eyes confused and lustfully longing.

  I leaned down, kissing his neck and cheek softly. “Let’s just not think about it right now, okay?”

  He grabbed my face with both hands, kissed me back, and thrust his hips up into mine, sending chills throughout my entire body. I let out a soft moan and let my hands travel up his white shirt, feeling his wonderfully defined stomach and chest. His body flexed and trembled at my touch as he pulled my shirt off over my head.

  His own moan mixed with mine as I placed my hands on his hips and hoisted myself up his body, finally wrapping my legs around his middle and rubbing my core against his growing erection.

  Within moments, we were both completely exposed, panting and kissing. His warm lips traveled from my mouth to my jawline and then to my neck and along my collarbone. I sighed with satisfaction at how wonderful it felt as he started to gently suck on my nipple, cupping my breast gently at the base with his warm hand. Walker looked up at me and smiled seductively as he pushed me off him and onto the other side of the couch before climbing back on top of me. He lightly ran his tongue over both of my breasts, sending goose bumps all over my skin.

  Quickly, he jumped to his feet, grabbing his pants. He whisked out a condom, unwrapped it, and slid it over himself. He clambered back on top of me and whispered into my ear, “I have never wanted someone as badly as I want you right now, Mags.” At his words, my body ached for more of him and I groaned into his mouth as I kissed him as deeply as my shaking lips would allow.

  He started to grind himself into me, making me surge with pleasure. When he heard my response, he slipped his hand down onto my wetness, gently rubbing, making me arch my back into him more. I softly bit down into his bare shoulder as he went faster and rougher with me, suddenly shoving his entire length inside me. I gasped at how tight I felt and how rough he was. I let out a faint squeak and he retracted, pulling up from me, making concerned eye contact, his chest heaving with deep breaths. I quickly grabbed his body and pulled it back down, thrusting him back into me.

  Even though it was a little painful, I found myself unable to let him stop. I forced him out for just a moment to let myself calm down from his thrusting. Electricity ran through my body as I couldn’t help but desire more of him. My fingers slowly started to tease him as I felt his length throb in my hand. Realizing that it was my body that did that to him sent even more excitement through me. At that moment, all I wanted was this—and Walker inside me again.

  I grabbed him with one hand and pulled my hips to meet his. He moaned into me as I forced his length into my wetness. He gently started to get into a rhythm, knotting his fingers into my hair again, roughly pulling my head back. I grabbed his hips, gently digging my nails into his strong muscular physique and begging for him to get rougher with me. His eyes shot open, full of lust and desire, as he obliged my very whim. Our bodies were completely in sync as we rode out our climaxes together, heavily gasping and groaning lustfully into each other.

  Walker’s gloriously glistening body, covered in a thin layer of sweat, rolled over on the couch, pulling my head onto his shoulder to hold me close to him. As he looked at me to speak, I just held my finger over his mouth. “I don’t want to start overanalyzing this yet. Let’s just lie here for a few minutes, please?”

  He nodded and turned his head away from me, closing his eyes. I nestled my head down onto his shoulder. His embrace was so inviting that I never wanted the moment to end. Within seconds, sleep washed over us both as we stayed cuddled on the couch.

  Fourteen

  I was jostled awake by Walker’s body moving out from under mine. The feeling of his bare skin shoved my senses awake and I shot up, reaching for my shorts and hastily pulling them back on. I jumped off the couch to find only Walker’s shirt in sight; quickly, I hauled it over my bar
e torso. Collapsing on the other end of the couch, holding myself tightly. Feeling nauseated, I started to tremble. My mind raced as I fought to make sense of all the flooding emotions coursing through my body. Suddenly, my attention snapped over to Walker as he sat paralyzed, staring at me, his jaw flexing while he pulled his jeans up his thighs.

  Replaying our passionate moments sent guilt stabbing into my heart. I felt dirty, like a cheater, a whore. Anger at my lustful actions and thoughts surged up into my chest as I heaved and fumed.

  “What?” I barked. He just shrugged, his eyes wide and fixated on mine. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. As I stood, trying to blink back the tears, screams started to escape from my shredding throat. “Oh my God, I am so fucking sorry, Walker!”

  I bolted for the stairs, but Walker’s arms wrapped around me, tight and gentle all at the same time. He forcefully pulled my entire body into him as he kissed the top of my hair. His voice was husky, still full of lustful passion. “Please stay. Talk to me.” I spun around to see his green eyes filled with tears, his expression crushed. His shoulders sagged while losing the grip on my torso; his eye contact broke to look out the window.

  Anger rushed through my body. I didn’t know if I was madder with myself for what I’d just instigated or with Walker for allowing it to happen. “I don’t know what the fuck you want with me, Walker! I am so freaking messed up right now.”

  Tears were flowing down my cheeks as he held me in a tight embrace, his eyes deep with sadness while as he ground his teeth in frustration. I could see that he was just as torn and tormented as I was. I longed to know what he was thinking, feeling, wanting, but he just stood motionless and silent.

  “I don’t know what the right thing to do is anymore.” I could barely get the words out through the sobbing and shaking.

  Walker’s strong arms picked me up and brought me back over to the couch, where he sat me down on his lap. I was just thankful he had fastened his pants back on, and I tried to let my body relax. All different emotions were assaulting me—lust, passion, hate, loneliness, disappointment, satisfaction. I didn’t know which one to start dealing with first. I couldn’t help but feel almost dirty, like I had cheated on Randy. Of course, that feeling was ridiculous because you can’t cheat on a dead person, but I just could not shake the feeling of it—or the shame of being another one of Walker’s sluts. At that thought, I felt my stomach churn into knots.

  I forcefully shoved myself from Walker’s arms, retreating to the opposite side of the couch. Trembling, holding my knees tightly to my chest, I uncontrollably sobbed, keeping my eyes clenched shut so I would not have to see Walker’s crushed expression. The pain in his face sent daggers into me, further tangling into my thoughts. I wanted to run away and hold him all at the same time.

  I tried to start stumbling through all of the different situations that were bothering me. The whore who had just left, missing Randy, being mad at Randy for leaving me, the feeling of being unfaithful, longing for Walker, hating how much I wanted him; all of it was attacking me and I couldn’t sort it out. Everything started to build, boiling up into physical exertion.

  The next thing I knew, I was flying across the couch and slapping Walker across the face. The loud smack crackled in the silent room as Walker rubbed his pink, stubble-ridden jaw.

  He narrowed his tear-filled eyes and raised his eyebrow at me. “Okay, you get just one of those, but what the hell, Mags? One minute you’re ripping off my clothes and the next you’re acting like you just shot the pope or something!”

  I shot up off the couch, pulling at my hair while pacing around the living room. “This is all just too goddamn much! First of all, you fucking hurt me by even bringing that skank here in the first place! If you want to be with me, you have a pretty messed up way of showing it! Do you even think or care about anyone other than yourself?” I let off a growling scream, collapsing onto the floor defiantly.

  When I finally regained control of myself, I retreated back to the other side of the couch, staring at Walker’s cold, shallow expression. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he turned to me, his voice full of pain. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. If I ever thought…” He let the rest of the sentence linger in the air, making the tension that much thicker.

  I turned to him and found myself wrapping my hands over his. “I don’t know what the right thing to do is, Walker.” I let my head fall onto our entwined hands. Taking a deep breath, I made myself say the next words, fighting with my heart as they choked out. “Maybe you should stay at the McManuses’ for the next few nights.” I stopped, looking into his eyes, which was a mistake. All of the sorrow and longing in them made me want desperately to take back what I’d just said, but my better judgment had to win this time and I forced myself to continue. “I’m not saying I don’t want you to live here or that I know how I feel about you. I just need some time to sort through all of this.”

  To my surprise, Walker did not protest my request. He promised he would leave me alone, and said that when I wanted to talk about it, I should call him. It didn’t take long for him to pack a few of his things and call Jim to ask if it was all right. That was something that hadn’t crossed my mind: what my in-laws would think about their houseguest returning. I pushed them out of my mind, trying to convince myself that my hasty decision of asking Walker for some space was the right move.

  Walker sulked over to me when he was about to leave. His muscular arms wrapped around me and I breathed in his musk. Once I was in his arms, I wanted to beg him to stay. Our eyes met and he quickly lunged for the door, probably knowing what my next words were going to be. With a swift goodbye, he left.

  When the door shut, remorse washed over my entire body. Shame had so many more faces than usual—betraying Randy, feeling smutty, kicking Walker out, longing for his lips again—it was all too much for me to process.

  I walked into the kitchen and pulled a bottle of Jack out of my freezer. Opening it, I figured drinking out of the bottle was in order in this situation; a glass would just make me get numb slower.

  I went through the motions of the next few days, self-medicating with alcohol, stupid TV reruns, a book I had read a thousand times, and work. I ignored the calls from Cali, my mother, and everyone else who felt the need to check up on me. The only call I answered was from Mitch. I knew he needed me, and we talked for a while about how his shattered family was handling everything.

  He and his father had not heard from Eva since she’d run away. We both figured it was all for the best. Mitch had been pretty worried about Buck and decided that it was in both of their best interest for Mitch to move back home for a while. Then the conversation started to lean in a direction I was not comfortable with, and when Mitch asked how living with Walker was going, I ended the call, lying that work was on the other line. I felt like a completely batty loon, coward, idiot, harlot, and many other things all rolled into one.

  For the first time, I was excited to be sitting in my therapist’s lobby. I desperately needed advice—or really, someone to make decisions for me.

  Dr. Davenport was sickeningly cheerful, ushering me in from the waiting room. Her hair was done in bouncy curls and she had a hint of red lipstick on, which made her skin look almost pasty white. She smiled wide at me, taking her regular seat across from my spot on the couch, daintily crossing her ankles as she opened her notepad to write.

  She looked up at my bloodshot eyes, forcing her cheery smile to twist into a frown. “Have you been getting enough sleep, Mags?”

  The amount of concern that filled her voice made me feel sick. “Yeah, I guess so.” I slouched down onto the back of the couch. I didn’t know why I was lying to my therapist, but it seemed like the correct answer.

  Candice stared at me for a minute, analyzing my gaze. “So have you considered having someone move in or not?”

  I couldn’t believe how much had changed since the last time I had seen her. Has it really only been a week since my last session? Anger at her st
upid suggestion of having a roommate in the first place forced me to lash out. “Yea I did, and it was terrible! Why couldn’t you have just told me to get a freaking dog or something?” Tears already were starting to pour from my burning eyes, and my face and neck were hot with anger at myself and at the terrible situation I had dug myself into.

  Shocked at my response, she shifted in her chair. “What happened? Did someone move in already?”

  I tried to calm my temper and be as polite as possible, forcing a softer expression as I took the tissue from Candice’s dainty hand. I explained to her about Walker moving in and how I was conflicted. I told her everything up to Sunday’s events. I was still ashamed of my feelings and actions from that day. I did not feel right letting those words escape me. Mostly, it was from fear that if I said it out loud, it would really have happened.

  My therapist calmly sat, letting me finish my whole story—well, everything up to my evening ending with Cali. I didn’t know how to put the rest into words, so I didn’t. I just waited, hoping Candice would take over the conversation.

  Her hand stopped writing as she gazed up into my eyes, her voice low. “So have you made up your mind about your roommate? Do you think you have feelings for him?”

  YES! I silently screamed, but my body just shrugged shyly, fading more into the couch.

  “This is something we need to explore. Please, Mags, I am here for you to tell me anything. Don’t hold back on yourself. It will only delay progress.”

  Not wanting to fight my feelings anymore, I finally let myself open up to my therapist. I relaxed my body, forced in a deep breath, and began to finish my story. Once I got to the point of asking Walker to leave for a little while, a little bit of sadness settled in. I realized then that I truly missed him.