Libra Rising

by Stacy M Wray

  She shakes her head. “But isn’t it hard to award a freshman? They don’t have a clue what’s ahead of them. How could they possibly be that focused?”

  I smile at her. “We choose the kids at freshmen level, but we don’t award the scholarships until senior year. They have to really want it – staying on track throughout high school. They’ll be given a computer – part of which is so they can stay in contact with their mentor via email or Skype. But, more importantly, there will be monthly scheduled meetings with their mentor – one on one. We felt this was important.”

  Just getting my foot in the door at some of those high schools was like me asking the principals if I could talk to those kids about dealing drugs. I couldn’t believe the resistance. “Mr. Faulkner,” one principal said to me, “these kids don’t have any aspirations to attend college. Look around you. Less than half of these kids will even graduate. I think you would be wasting your time.” What I really wanted to tell him is that the administration had been wasting their time by having this guy in that chair. He was burnt out and washed up. He needed to move on. I understood. I can’t imagine the hopelessness of dealing with those kids’ situations day in and day out – ones they never asked for and had no say in. But he defeats the purpose of what I’m trying to do – light a fire under these kids. Let them know that someone is offering them a chance.

  She can’t stop smiling, and I know my time is up. “Harper…”

  Upon hearing the seriousness in my voice, she stills. “What? What is it, Reed?”

  I run my hand through my hair and take a deep breath. “I need to tell you where I was. All that time before I saw you at Mr. H’s will-reading.”

  Her eyes widen, hardly able to believe I’m finally ready to spill. She nods and remains poised.

  “I was in prison.”

  It’s deathly quiet in the tiny house.

  Then, she whispers, “Why?”

  My eyes close, hating what she must be thinking. “The guy my mom brought home? The one who was still there after I returned to Chicago?” She nods, knowing who I mean. “Well, he picked a fight –said things I couldn’t walk away from.” My head hangs in shame. I’d give anything to go back just a few minutes ago. “I lost it, Harper. I beat the living crap out of him. I never told you, but I had just turned eighteen a couple of weeks before that. I got sent away, and I couldn’t bear the thought of you knowing where I was.”

  “Did he…did he survive?”

  “Yes, thank God.” I shake my head slowly. “I have no idea where that asshole is today – don’t care.”

  I turn to her, locking eyes. “But don’t you see? Your dream was to become a lawyer, Harper. Why on earth would you want to be with a convicted felon? I thought you deserved more.”

  She places her hand on my forearm, coaxing me to turn to her. “I loved you, Reed. I still do. Why would you think that? If I were in that same situation, I probably would’ve snapped, too.”

  Taking me by surprise, Harper climbs into my lap, facing me. Her eyes lock onto mine, those plump lips turning up at the corners. “We can’t change the past, Reed. It doesn’t matter now. And it wouldn’t have mattered back then. You were just a kid. That prison term didn’t change who you are to me – what you mean to me.”

  Tears sting the backs of my eyes, hardly able to believe what I’m hearing. “That’s it? That’s all you have to say?”

  “I only care about who you are, not what you’ve done. You are an amazing man, Reed Faulkner. Make no mistake about that.”

  Only Harper.

  I will never understand why she chose me. I’m just fucking grateful that she did.

  And then, she kisses me.

  While our mouths mesh and tongues swirl, I get lost in her admission. I don’t ever think anyone has ever told me they loved me before.

  I can’t even begin to describe how her words make me feel. Warmth mixed with a natural high – my heart is lifted from my chest, and I feel lighter than air. It’s unreal.

  Images appear before my eyes and slowly become obliterated, one by one.

  Dad walking out on us.

  Handcuffs around my wrists.

  Mr. Beady Eyes’ bloody, broken face.

  Steel bars of a jail cell.

  Mom’s indifferent stares.

  Instead, I focus on what I’ve been given.

  An opportunity by a man I loved and respected.

  The love of a beautiful girl, inside and out.

  My new life begins right here. Right now. And my heart is so fucking full.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Harper

  May 2017

  I had no idea I’d be given such a gift today. And, no, I’m not talking about the copy of To Kill a Mockingbird.

  It’s funny. I have always lived by Mr. H’s words, too, just like Reed. He told me to be patient. God, how did he know? How did he know I’d need a super-dose of patience when it came to Reed? He always was a clever old man.

  I credit my strength – strength that my mom gave me. She was the strongest person I had ever known. And incredibly patient. But when I saw Reed today, looking as if our separation hadn’t pained him in the least, something just snapped. I know I shouldn’t make that judgment call just on his appearance alone. I know that was stupid. But I did.

  And now I know what has kept us separated all these years. It saddens me greatly. I can’t believe he went through that. It’s unimaginable. I hate his parents for putting him through all their bullshit. I hate that he sat behind bars, only having Mr. H.

  But what I hate most is that he misjudged how deep my feelings were for him. How could he not know I would have stayed by his side?

  I refuse to live in the past – a prisoner to what could have been.

  He’s here now.

  He says he’s staying. But what does that really mean?

  The front door bursts open and Melanie comes plowing through. Her eyes widen when she sees me.

  “Hey, just the girl I want to talk to.” She plunks her purse on the table by the door and rushes to the couch. “I don’t have much time ‘cause I’m just here to pack a small bag.” Her eyebrows waggle, and I clearly get the message. “But listen…Blake’s best friend, Jack, thinks you’re hot, and I had the best idea on the drive over here –”

  “And how would Blake’s best friend even know this?”

  I receive a sigh and an eye-roll as she plops down beside me. “Because I might have accidentally showed him your picture?”

  I literally growl at her. “Melanie, for the love of…how many times have I told you I don’t want to be set up with anyone? I’m not interested.”

  “But Harper – I get that you hide behind your classes. But you’ve just graduated. You’ve got a whole summer to do what you want. Don’t you want to get laid? Ever?”

  I feel him behind me and look over my shoulder. Reed has just returned from the bathroom. And the look on his face is not one I want to be introducing to my best friend. Shit!

  Melanie follows my eyes. To say she is shocked to see a man in our house would be an understatement.

  Her eyes flick back to mine. Then, back to Reed. Then, back to mine. “What’s going on? Who is that?”

  Reed walks around the couch, his anger quickly morphing to that of amusement, and plants himself in a chair to the side of Melanie. “I’m Reed. And I’m here to make sure that Harper gets laid. Very laid.” And then, he winks at her.

  When she realizes her mouth is hanging open, she promptly shuts it and turns to me. “Is there something you forgot to tell me?” Her question exudes hope, but I still hear just a pinch of hurt.

  My relationship with Reed isn’t something I could explain to anyone – they wouldn’t understand. And I didn’t think she would, either. I never wanted her to look at me with pity-filled eyes, thinking I was hanging on to something that would never be. Whenever I would think about our history, I knew it looked like just that – history. From someone else’s perspective, this guy wasn�
�t the real deal. He wasn’t going to be my happily-ever-after.

  So, I just kept it to myself.

  “Melanie, this is Reed Faulkner. I’ve known him since I was…” I look over at Reed, “fifteen?”

  He nods, and I smile. “Yes, fifteen. He worked on the farm across from my house for a couple of summers.”

  Her eyebrows lift. She turns to Reed with a devilish grin and extends her hand. “I’m Melanie. I wish I could say that Harper has told me all about you but, sadly, she has not.”

  Reed takes her hand but doesn’t respond, an awkward tension hanging in the air.

  “Well,” she says, standing, “I’m just gonna go pack that bag, and I’ll be out of your hair.”

  After she disappears into her room, Reed stares at me.

  “What?”

  One side of his mouth lifts in a grin while he shakes his head. “Nothing.” He runs his hand along the sexy stubble on his chin and looks down the hallway. “She seems like a good friend.”

  And that’s all he says.

  “Yes, she is.”

  After several minutes, practically running down the hall, Melanie leans over the back of the couch and plants a kiss on my cheek. “See you probably late Sunday night.” Swiveling her attention to Reed, she says, “It was nice to meet you.” He lifts his chin in response.

  Grabbing her purse off the table, she’s almost out the door when Reed says, “Melanie?”

  She turns, waiting for him to continue.

  “You might want to tell Jack that he’s fucked.”

  A flush of color sweeps across her cheeks. She looks down for a second, then back up to meet his gaze. “You heard that, huh?”

  “Yeah. Just enough.”

  She laughs. “Yeah, okay,” she says, and she leaves, shutting the door behind her.

  I’m still staring at the door when I hear his gravelly voice. “Come here.”

  Turning my attention to Reed, I can’t help but notice how his eyes resemble dark chocolate. I rise and walk to him, fully aware of the whoosh in my belly. His eyes never leave mine. He holds his hand out and I take it, and he guides me to his lap as I straddle his waist. Wrapping his hands around my torso, he pulls me closer, gripping my ass aggressively. His lids lower, and I know he’s staring at my mouth.

  “Kiss me,” I command. And before he even has a chance to respond, I pull him towards me by the back of his neck until our mouths meet, my lips tasting all that is hopeful. All that is right. All that is mine.

  We continue kissing until his hips jerk up to meet my crotch, both of us needing a release. I don’t know if it’s a release from the uncomfortable scene that just took place, or if it’s the pent-up frustration from being apart all these months and years – being apart when we’ve had the freedom to be together.

  It’s not like the summers we shared on the farm, Mr. H’s watchful eyes following us like a hawk, slow and deliberate, just waiting to jerk us back to reality with a stern look. It’s not like that at all. There’s no one telling us “no.” Wait – that’s not true. Reed has been. This whole time, his absence has been saying, “we have to wait – I’m not ready.”

  I’ve always been ready. But it doesn’t work that way. I know how Reed feels. He’s never tried to hide that side of him. His eyes and his body tell me everything I need to know. It’s just his mind I can’t read.

  And, earlier, he told me why he stayed away. I get it, kind of. Because if we had forced it, just because we could, it probably wouldn’t have worked. Maybe. But maybe not. And now it’s easier to put all that behind me. He’s here, underneath me, pushing his erection into the one spot where I need it most. The one spot I have always saved for him. Except for once. But that was before Mr. H left us. That was when I truly thought I’d never see him again.

  He breaks our kiss, his tongue sliding down my throat. One hand reaches between us, and he traces my collarbone with his fingers, his gentle touch causing me to shiver. His eyes, however, convey anything but gentle. They are full of need. Of want. And they want me.

  Tugging at the neck of my sweatshirt, he says, “Take this off.”

  I raise my arms over my head. “You take it off.”

  He grips the hem of my sweatshirt, yanking it over my head in one fell swoop. He tosses it aside, already concentrating on getting my bra off. With one quick twist of the front clasp, he pushes the straps off my shoulders and down my arms, waiting for me to pull my hands through, then, drops it to the floor, also. “These tits were made for my mouth,” he mumbles, mesmerized by my hardened nipples. He grips one between his fingers while the other fits between his lips, his tongue circling it as I throw my head back.

  “Jesus…”

  I can feel his lips form a smile around my nipple. I like it when Reed smiles. He has such a beautiful smile.

  I reach my hands down from his neck and tug at the top of his shirt, pulling it up from the back. He detaches from my breast to slip out of it, and then veers to the other, gently biting down, causing me to moan in pleasure. My hands grip his thick locks, pressing his head into my chest. I wonder how I’ve possibly gone this long without his lips. Without his hands. Without his voice. Him, period.

  Tears form in the back of my eyes, imagining a life with him. Is this real? Please, let this be real.

  He stops and looks up at me, his chin pressed at the bottom of my breastbone. “How often does she try to set you up?”

  Wondering if I heard him right, I ask, “What?”

  His eyes close, like he thinks I’m stalling for time. He keeps them closed when he asks, “Do you ever go?”

  I can see this is really bothering him. Why, I don’t know, because we had no agreement. No rules. No script. We barely had dialogue at all over the past years, so I’m not sure why he’s asking. I’m not asking him. I sure as hell don’t want to know the answer.

  “Are we really going to do this? Because I’m not sure I want to.”

  He sits back in the chair, staring at my bare chest. I should feel on display, but I don’t. This feels more natural to me than brushing my teeth every day. It just does. What doesn’t feel natural are his questions. I don’t want to go backwards, only forward. Forward doesn’t involve questions regarding our time apart.

  He sighs heavily, his eyes drifting to the apex of my thighs. He drags his thumb down the seam of my leggings, pressing the material into my aching heat. Oh! How can he be turning me on and annoying me at the same time?

  “The thought of someone else here,” he emphasizes the word by pressing harder, “drives me fucking insane.” He looks up and his eyes are dark with anger, but wild with lust. I can see both and they bring a heady reaction to my insides.

  I could go off on him. Tell him exactly what I think of his unfair question. Tell him that he’s the one who left here unattended, possibly to be appreciated by someone else. But I don’t. Because he’s my Reed. And I don’t want him to think something that isn’t true just to prove a point. It’s not my style.

  “I haven’t been with anyone else. Not since you.” Not since the summer after I graduated from high school. I started seeing a guy that I met through a friend. It was a purely physical and short relationship. I was lonely, feeling lost. He was available and there. It happened, and I can’t take it back.

  His brows furrow, and then soften as my words hang between us. “Seriously?”

  I nod. “And that’s the end of this discussion.” I lean forward and take his bottom lip in my teeth, then slip my tongue in his mouth to shut him up. I meant what I said.

  Placing his hands beneath my ass, he stands, lifting me with him, and walks us toward the bedroom.

  Sliding my hand across his bare chest, I feel his heart race. I love that it’s because of me. For a fleeting second, I wonder if any other girl has made his heart this excited but force the thought away. I don’t want anyone else seeping into this moment we’re having – especially some fictitious thought in my head. When I experience crazy, I want it to be because of him,
not some figment I’m dreaming up.

  And the few times we’ve been together, he makes me crazy. His mouth on my clit. His hands on my ass. His dick inside me. Everything about him makes me insane with need – a need only he can fulfill. And it’s partly because of the waiting. The waiting only amplified the need.

  But I don’t have to wait any longer. He’s here. Carrying me to my room. He’s about to make me all kinds of crazy. The hum that’s flowing through my body right now confirms it. The look in his eyes does too.

  “I’ve fucking missed you, Harper. You have no idea…”

  He plops me on the bed and unfastens his pants, his eyes never leaving my mouth.

  I smile at him, knowing how much he loves my lips. “I’ve missed you too.”

  He lifts his leg out of his pants when he nods to mine. “Take those off.” Then, he tosses a condom on the bed from his pocket.

  My hands slide across my stomach, but instead of traveling south to the elastic band, they travel up and across my hardened nipples. The look on his face is priceless. “You take them off.”

  “So bossy,” he teases.

  Stepping forward between my legs, his hands grip the soft material around my waist and he yanks down in a swift tug. I raise my hips to assist him. It’s the least I can do.

  We’re both naked, both marveling at one another’s body. His is glorious - there’s just no other word for it. I know I haven’t hardly seen any naked men, but I don’t need to. His is the only one I want.

  “You wet for me, Harper?”

  I smile again, knowing it’s a rhetorical question. And a silly one, at that.

  He runs a finger down my slit, stopping at my entrance. He slips it inside and his eyes briefly close. The sound of his finger stirring up my juices is so erotic, causing a rush of heat to sweep over me, and there it is – that crazy I was talking about. It jumbles my thoughts and makes me forget I was ever angry at him. It even makes me forget my name, for a moment. And that’s just from his finger.