Don't Fall

by K. S. Thomas

  He keeps coming closer, hands moving tighter around my waist, up my back until his fingers are pressed firmly to me along with every other part of him. “I haven’t had a rational thought since you walked in swinging an umbrella at me,” he rasps, “now stop talking, I’ve been dying to kiss those lips since this morning and I can’t do that when you keep moving them.” Just in case I attempt to argue, he takes my lower lip in-between his teeth and tugs until my eyes roll back into my head and my mouth crushes his, ready to be devoured.

  His grip moves and before I know what’s happening, my toes are no longer touching the ground and he’s lifting me up, wrapping my legs around his waist. Rapidly the distance between my back and my bedroom door increases as he carries me backwards to his own room. There’s a brief fumbling as he struggles with the door one handedly, unwilling to untangle himself from me long enough to see what he’s doing.

  “Shit,” he grumbles into my mouth.

  “You really need to stop saying that when we’re together like this,” I mumble back between heated kisses.

  The handle clicks and the door opens. His mouth moves under mine, grinning. “Got it.” We back inside and he kicks the door shut on his way toward the dresser where he sets me down without ever breaking contact with my lips.

  My hands steadily make their way down to his pants so I can begin to peel his shirt up and off his body while he undresses me with a ferocious speed giving every indication we’re doing this right here and now. No moving to the bed. No wasting time on anything but each other.

  High on everything from his cologne to the touch of his skin on mine, all reason escapes me and I give in fully to the moment. This moment. Right now, between us. Unfolding at such rapid speeds, I can barely catch my breath. And yet, I can’t slow down. Don’t want to slow down. Don’t want to have even a second to waste on second thoughts or doubts or reminders of how I know better. Every instinct to be responsible and make the right choices falls by the wayside tonight. I want this. I want him. Just for me. Just because it feels so damn good.

  The sound of my zipper coming undone briefly breaks through the delirious trance and my eyes meet his in a moment of total stillness.

  “Don’t fuck this up,” I whisper.

  “I won’t if you won’t,” he answers softly, the tip of his nose nudging mine.

  “Deal.” The moment passes. The stillness speeds up. And I’m free falling with no end in sight.

  Lane

  After the dresser, we move it to the shower where things get hellishly hot and dirty before they get even remotely clean. When we finally make it to the bed, it’s nearly five in the morning, but that doesn’t stop me from rounding out the night by taking my sweet-ass time taking care of every last inch of her in ways I was too wound up to do earlier when my every thought was about getting inside her and making all of the shit images still floating through my head about that bastard who tried to hurt her disappear.

  When she falls asleep still wrapped up in me, all the fear and tension of her night have melted away and a contented smile is resting beautifully on her perfect mouth.

  I close my eyes, roll my neck and drop my head back into my pillow. Every tedious word Alexis ranted at me tonight comes flooding back. She’s never been one to side with our parents, but tonight, even she told me I was fucking up my entire life. She’s not wrong. I ditched my practice, my patients and right along with it, my reputation. All to take on a new job I’m well on my way of fucking up just as bad, if not worse. And for what? To prove Olivia was right to walk out like she did? To validate her decision to choose Brant over me? Or is it simply an act of giving up and giving in. Accepting what I’ve been told most of my life. That I’m a second rate, slacker with zero ambition. I make bad choices, and my judgement is total shit.

  Well, that last part at least, I can now attest to. In all my infinite insight into people’s minds, I still couldn’t see the lies the two people closest to me were telling straight to my face, day after day, for nearly a year.

  Tessa shifts her body, moving closer into my chest and pulling me back out of my head. I used to think this is what trust looks like. Her, vulnerable and nestled against me, as if I’m a safe place she can fall into. But it’s as much a lie as everything else is. It’s why this thing between us works. Because the only one either of us truly trusts, is ourselves.

  Chapter Twelve

  Tessa

  “Shit.” I bolt upright, blanket flying across the bed. “Shit, shit, shit,” I continue, fumbling over the mattress in search of even one article of clothing.

  “I thought we agreed we wouldn’t start the morning after like that again,” he mumbles, his arm reaching blindly for any part of my body. As soon as it catches on my thigh, he jerks it backward, tossing me back into the bed beside him. Grinning, his face surfaces from the plush white pillow it was buried in. “Good morning.” He completely interrupts my efforts to race out of here and plants a kiss firmly on my lips. I’m not even mad. Good God, the man is even more gorgeous first thing in the morning. I missed this last time around.

  “Hi.” Hi? Who says hi after you’ve spent the night together. We woke up, we weren’t reunited after spending a great deal of time apart. Never mind. Not important. “I’m late!”

  I jump up a second time facing only slightly less opposition from him. “Which class?” He asks as his hand moves to wind itself around my ankle, then slowly up my calf.

  “Not class. I’m meeting Riley. We only get to see each other once a month, and this is it. I can’t miss it!” I scramble out of his grip a second time and make it out the bed for good.

  “Wait, who’s Riley?”

  I pause, staring around the room blankly as his question and my current mission collide in my warbled, morning brain. “My sister.”

  “You have a sister?”

  “Uh-huh. And four brothers.” I grin sheepishly. “Probably could have mentioned that last night during the sibling chat, huh?”

  “Probably.” He grins back at me and I have no choice but to launch myself back in his direction for another brief morning make out sesh.

  “Seriously,” I mumble, tearing myself away from him yet again, “I gotta go.”

  It takes a thirty second dash around the room to collect my clothes which wound up in an impressive variety of locations, before I circle back around to him and smack his lips with mine in a hurry one last time. “No regrets, just running late – swear!” Then I run from the room, hopping part of the way on one leg while I struggle to get on some pants and attempt to get dressed before reaching the front door. I need to get on the road, and I don’t have a car here to do it in. Which leaves only one option. Drea.

  Still shirtless, I bundle the material to my chest and race across the hall to her apartment, letting myself in and making a beeline for her bedroom where I proceed to accidentally flash Scott once I’m inside.

  “Found her!” he yells over his shoulder toward the bathroom. Then cringes. “God, way too much of her.”

  I notice too late, the material covering my breasts has shifted some. “It’s a boob, Scott. Smaller, but not that unlike Drea’s,” I grumble, shooting him a dirty look for extra satisfaction on my way to her bathroom, slipping the shirt on over my head as I go.

  She’s barely out of the shower, but that doesn’t stop her from marching her wet feet over to meet me at the sink where I’m busy chugging her mouthwash.

  “Cara said a guy attacked you last night!”

  “When did you talk to Cara?” I slip past her outstretched, flailing arms and wind up nearly crawling to avoid getting hit on my way out of the bathroom to safer space.

  “When you didn’t come home last night, and I called her.” Her arms cross firmly over her chest now.

  I search her closet for a pair of flip-flops. I forgot shoes in my whirlwind exit. “Oh, right.”

  “Oh, right?! Are you freaking kidding me?” Arms return their dramatic dance in the air as she lunges forward, and I duck. />
  “Drea! I love you and the fact that you were worried about me, though I think we both know you concluded I was safe once you finished talking to Cara –but right now, I have to go meet Riles and I need to borrow your car to do that. Please.”

  “Why? Where’s your car. And also, when did you come home? I thought I heard you, but when I went to check on you, your room was empty so it was two-timing McMichael I heard, not you.”

  “My car is at the club. I got a ride home last night after all that craziness.” I purposely avoid answering her second question, though I know it’ll be pointless in the long run.

  “Fine,” she huffs, marching up beside me, hair still wet, but fully clothed. “I’ll drive.” She swipes her keys from the bowl on her dresser and heads for the front door, holding it open when she gets to it. “After you.”

  I don’t have time to argue or tell her the list of reasons I’ve mentally accumulated over the last three minutes why she’s insane, so I lead the way outside and keep walking until I reach her Jetta in the parking lot. It’s not locked. It never is, so I’m in my seat and buckled before she even opens the driver’s side door.

  “Can we add a little hustle to the bustle this morning? You know I don’t have much time on my breakfast dates with Riley.”

  “Something you might have considered before staying out all night and making me crazy with worry,” she sneers putting her key in the ignition and starting up the car at last. I guess not answering her question about my whereabouts mostly just led her to conjure up her own theories. “Where did you wind up anyway?”

  “Um, wind up?” I kind of thought that part was obvious, in fact, I figured it’s why she’s so agitated, but if she hasn’t connected the dots, I don’t think I’m going to do it for her.

  “Tessa! You’re wearing the same outfit you wore yesterday, it’s pretty damn clear you haven’t been home since.”

  “You know, you’ve been on me for days to go out and get some action, and now that I follow your advice, you’re acting like a crazy lady.”

  Slowly, her stern expression morphs into a sly one. “You dirty bird. You finally hooked up with Casey!” She smacks both palms into her steering wheel in a very triumphant sort of way. “I knew it! Cara said some super-hot guy showed up and saved the day, and I just had a feeling it was him. Then you didn’t come home...ugh, I was so right about you two! I don’t know why you were so set on ending things early the first night.”

  I sigh, dropping my head back against the seat. We’re on the road, and Drea may not be mad at me like I initially assumed, but she still drives like a maniac, so I’m not all too keen on bursting her bubble at the moment. Plus, with her as my chauffeur I may wind up arriving early when all is said and done and that’s a bonus I’m not willing to sacrifice this morning.

  “Are you going to see him again?” Her eyes are glued to the road but somehow, I can still feel the boring look of curiosity she’s intending to give me.

  I decide that him could mean anyone...could mean Lane. So, “Yep.”

  “Good! And make sure you invite him over. Let your stupid professor see what it looks like when a guy is treating you the right way.” She nods, as if she’s confirming her own words of wisdom to herself.

  “Yeah, I don’t think I’m going to be inviting anyone over. There’s really no reason to overcomplicate things. We’re just...having fun.”

  Drea turns toward me, eyeing me skeptically. “Fun is fine. Let Lane see that then.”

  “Why?” I really don’t get what her obsession is with rubbing my pretend hook up with Casey in Lane’s face.

  “Because, I want to make damn sure he knows to keep his distance. It’s bad enough you’re stuck with him all year. The more he’s reminded that having you close by is not the same as ‘having you’, the better.”

  “You don’t think you’re being a little dramatic?”

  Her ranting face turns from fired up to serious. “No. I’m not. I don’t want him to hurt you again. Not after everything you’ve already been through,” she admits quietly. “And after what happened the other night, I just want to make sure he doesn’t try anything else.”

  “I know.” I fold my hands in my lap and stare at my palms, shame slowly seeping in at last. I don’t know what’s worse, lying to her or accepting there’s a possibility of truth in the things she’s saying. “But it’s okay. I’m okay. And Lane...it’s not going to be a problem. Trust me. I really don’t think he’s as bad as you think.”

  She shrugs, clearly unwilling to admit she’s wrong about him. “Tessa, he was using you.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’m sorry, but it’s the truth and you know it. He barely knows you and yet he was willing to totally jeopardize his career to be with you? It’s bullshit. Whatever brought him here can’t be anything short of some self-destructive act to be as reckless as possible. Why else would he be so quick to jump into bed with you – had to have been more than just your run of the mill horniness given he slept with Jules right before he made a move on you! And this whole risking living with you in the first place? I mean, I love you, but let’s face it, you don’t exactly make it easy for people to get close to you. And if he’s not in it because he cares, which clearly, he couldn’t, you’ll just wind up nothing but collateral damage along the way to his career suicide.”

  My hands move up along my elbows in a less comforting and more self-pitying self-hug. “Damn, Drea. Thanks for that. I’m glad the person who’s known me longest finds me so utterly impossible to love. It’s filling me with all sorts of warm and fuzzy feelings.”

  “You know that’s not what I meant.”

  I don’t know that. I don’t know that at all. Because everything she just said plays on repeat in my mind twenty-four seven three hundred and sixty-five days a year, every year from the time I was twelve and not a single member of my immediate family lifted so much as a finger to hold onto me. It plays non-stop, a quiet murmur of hate I can never turn off, but have somehow learned to tune out from time to time. Until last night. Last night for the first time in as long as I can remember, the words were silent. An absence of self-doubt left room for new feelings to fill me up. Unsteady feelings. Feelings that weren’t nearly strong enough to withstand Drea’s reality check. Not love. Nothing even comparable to love. But something else. Something that made me feel wanted, just for me.

  “It’s fine. I get it.” I can see the diner up ahead. This ride is almost over. And I’m going to be on time. Silver lining. It’s always there.

  “It’s out of love, Tessa,” Drea tries one last time as she pulls into the parking lot.

  “Yep.” I open the door, desperate to escape the car which suddenly feels a lot like a tiny tin can designed to suffocate you. “Thanks for the ride.” I move to shut the door and pause, leaning back in, “Don’t worry about picking me up. Campus isn’t too far. I’ll just walk.”

  “Tessa...”

  I close the door and turn toward the diner. One mountain climbed, another to go.

  It’s senior citizen central when I step inside. It always is. Between the early crack of dawn hours and the near proximity to at least three assisted living facilities I can name just off the top of my head, it’s no surprise.

  “Two?” The hostess smiles. Guess she’s getting used to our schedule.

  “Yes, please.” Normally I request a booth, but I have a feeling she remembers that as well.

  Before long I’m sitting in the back of the restaurant, near the restrooms, staring at a menu I learned inside out at least three months ago while a selective stream of random words replays itself inside my head, taking me to down further with each spiraling hateful cycle.

  “Hey,” a quiet squeak of a voice draws my eyes upward. Riley.

  “Hey, you.” I hug her tight until I’ve suffocated the swirl of anxiety that’s been rising in my chest since I got here. Riley doesn’t need to see me cry. We’re just barely rebuilding our relationship, and I’m the big sister. I
t’s my job to hold my shit together. So, I put on a smile and force the light back to my eyes knowing it will disguise the sheen of tears still lingering, threatening silently to be shed.

  “You look good, are you good?” I ramble, stumbling my way into some sort of conversation with her. It still isn’t easy or natural, but I’m holding out hope we’ll get there as long as we both keep showing up.

  “I’m fine,” she mumbles picking up the menu. She’ll order French Toast. She always does. The menu perusing is simply a means to an end. Getting me to shut up.

  I inhale deeply until I can feel the air push out against my belly button and remind myself that she’s a teenager and we’re all assholes at that age. “Get your learner’s permit yet?” I ask, trying to venture my way into a topic she’ll find interesting.

  “I did.” She sets down the menu. A good sign. “I don’t get to use it much though. Maybe you could help me practice sometime?” she asks hopefully. She doesn’t need to elaborate on the obstacles keeping her from driving. Last I heard, our mother had her license permanently revoked, so she’s not in any position to take Riles cruising around.

  “Sure. Maybe we’ll skip breakfast next month and have a little driving session instead.” I smile. I know I had to sweeten the pot for her to warm up a bit, but I don’t blame her. Most days I think she had it hardest out of all of us, being stuck with our mother for the long haul. A little mistrust is to be expected, even amongst siblings, when you can’t even count on your own mother to be honest with you.

  “For real? Like, you’d let me drive for like a whole hour?” The excitement is shrouded in doubt, like a girl who’s learned never to count her chickens before they hatch.

  “For real. Like, a whole hour,” I tell her, grinning, because I’m not sixteen and I, like, seriously, don’t talk like that.

  She claps her hand together as if she’s giving a miniature round of applause to life in general. “Oh my God, it’s going to be so awesome!”