It’s the most intense thing I’ve ever felt, and it takes hold of my entire body, and goes on, wave after shocking wave, for far longer than I’ve ever experienced before.
I collapse on top of her, heaving for breath. I run my nose along the line of her shoulder as her fingers trace the lines of my back.
I slip my hands under her and carefully pull myself from her body, then roll onto my back and take her with me. Rory lays on me like a blanket, and she’s the softest, warmest, most perfect blanket in existence.
She presses her face into my neck and catches her breath, and I stroke her back lightly.
“You alright, Ror?” I ask her. She nods against my skin.
“Mmmm,” she hums, summing it up perfectly.
I chuckle, and kiss her hair. “Well, that makes two of us, baby.”
Rory sighs. “You’ve never called me that before.”
“Called you what?” I ask. I call her Ror all the time.
She lifts her face to meet my eyes.
“Baby.”
She’s right. I guess I didn’t even realize I said it out loud, but it came so naturally. Because she is. She’s my baby.
“Hmm, I guess I did call you that. I don’t know what you’re doing to me, Ror, honestly I’ve never called a girl by a pet name in my life.”
Of course, I’ve also never been in love.
“I liked it,” Rory replies, her voice shy and hesitant, as if she’s nervous to even admit it, though I can’t imagine why.
I grab her neck and pull her down for a kiss. More and more, I believe that she gets it. That she gets us. Because she’s already my baby girl, and if I were a braver man, I’d tell her how I feel right now and take the risk, but I’m still so worried she’ll pull away if I push too far too fast. So I let my kiss say what I can’t.
Rory sighs and adjusts herself so she’s half laying on me, our legs entwined.
I lay there for long, perfect minutes, content, not needing to say a single word.
Suddenly, Rory sniffles, and there’s a faint dampness on my chest that incites terror in my gut.
Because all my fears are coming true – Rory’s regretting what we just did, and I don’t know what the fuck to do. What did I do wrong?
“Oh, baby, no,” I whisper, brushing away the tear she couldn’t stop from falling. “What’s wrong?” I hold my breath.
“I’m fine,” she mutters unconvincingly. God, it’s the worst thing she could have possibly said.
I roll to my side so we are facing each other, so she can’t hide from my gaze. I slip my arm under her neck, and brush away another tear, my dread growing with every second that passes.
“Please tell me what I did,” I beg her. I will do anything to fix it, baby, I swear to fucking God.
Her eyes widen like she’s surprised, but still, she hesitates.
“Nothin’, Sam,” she says finally. “It’s just…”
I wait in pergatory for her to finish her sentence.
“It’s not you, I was just thinkin’ about Robin…”
It’s the last thing I ever expected to hear, and it fucking guts me.
“I mean… I was just thinkin’ that this is what my first time should have been like, that’s all,” she explains, and my horror dissipates.
I finally take a deep breath.
“Nothing he did was the way things should have been for you, Ror. I wish you never had to go through any of that,” I tell her. I would do anything to go back in time. To save her from that monster. To make her fall in love with me and be the one to take her virginity – to be the one she gave it to.
She nods.
“I wish it could have been me,” I admit. “You have no idea how much,” I add wistfully.
Rory blinks at me. “Really?”
I nod. “Really.”
Rory’s brows pinch together, as if in some kind of awe. “I didn’t know guys like you existed.”
I laugh. It hasn’t got a thing to do with me. “It’s not me, Ror. I told you, you’re the one doing this to me. Trust me, normally just the thought of sleeping with a virgin…” I trail of with a shudder I don’t have to exaggerate. I’ve never hooked up with a virgin, for good reason. It’s a responsibility Randy was careful to tell me to avoid at all costs, and I took his advice to heart.
“I wish I could undo what he did,” I admit. More than fucking anything.
“It was kind of a first for me,” Rory says timidly. “I mean, consensually. I’ve never… I…”
I kiss her. “I know, baby,” I tell her, though I didn’t know, not for sure. I’d wondered about that best friend of hers, and hearing this satisfies something deep inside me, but it’s hearing her give our doing it such significance that really gets to me. In a way, it is almost like she just gave me her virginity, and I treasure it more than she could ever know.
“You know, if you want to consider this your first time, I’m okay with that,” I tell her, leaving out the fact that it would mean the fucking world to me if she did.
She blinks at me in astonishment for a moment before she presses her mouth to mine, kissing me hard, and I grab her face, holding it to mine, deepening our kiss.
The truth is, in some ways, I feel as if this was my first time. Because all the sex I’ve had before, it’s just not the same act I just experienced, and I can’t believe that all this time I thought I was enjoying all there was, I was missing out on this. On her.
I roll onto my back again, and she snuggles up against me, resting her head on my chest. I just lay there, listening to her breathing relax, and feeling her heart beat against my chest.
“You sure swear a lot during… you know,” she says, yawning.
I know I curse a lot all the time, but I’m not sure I’ve ever been told I do it more during sex.
“Do I?” I smirk. “You know, you can say ‘sex’, you don’t have to be embarrassed, baby. Especially since we’re still naked.”
She laughs, shoving at my chest playfully.
“Well do you want to know what you sound like during sex?” Even the memory of it has me stirring against her thigh already.
“God, no!” she assures me, and we both laugh.
I sigh. “You sound – and look – like every fucking fantasy I’ve ever had,” I confess.
Minutes pass, and I think she’s fallen asleep.
“Is it always like that?” she asks softly.
“No.” I can’t believe she would even think that.
She looks up at me in confusion.
“It’s never like that, Ror,” I tell her meaningfully.
Rory cuddles into me, and it isn’t long before I feel her breathing even out, and she relaxes into sleep.
I watch her for along time, studying her every feature, wanting to memorize every moment of this afternoon, of our first times, doing whatever it was we just did, though I’m pretty sure even making love would be an understatement.
I love you, I tell her wordlessly, and eventually I drift off to sleep as well.
****
You With Him
I listen to the lock click on our adjoining door, and stare after her, trying to process what the fuck just happened.
After the most incredible afternoon of my life, I couldn’t get Rory’s past out of my head. I tried to focus on the positive, but her pain consumed me, and I couldn’t channel my rage in any productive way. So I looked him up. What’s the big fucking deal? I wasn’t really going to go after him.
So what if I checked out her hometown on a map. If I know it would take seven hours to drive from Miami to Linton – that I could leave tonight and be back by morning.
It doesn’t mean I was actually going to do it.
Was I?
Maybe.
But it wasn’t like I was going to kill the bastard. I just wanted to see his face… and to beat it to a bloody pulp.
But would that have been the worst thing? To teach him a well-deserved lesson? To punish him for what he did to Rory, and
to make sure he knows better than to bother her ever again.
I wasn’t really going to do it. I was just going to think about it.
I think.
But fuck if it backfired. I never meant for her to see his picture. God, she looked so stricken, and because of me. That was my fault – I know that. But doesn’t she know how badly her words gutted me?
It’s got nothin’ to do with you.
As if I’m nothing to her. As if I’m just some guy she’s screwing. And I don’t get it, because a few hours ago, she was telling me she was basically giving me her figurative virginity, and then suddenly, I’m not even relevant to her life.
Shit did that sting.
I wasn’t going to ask her about Cam. My mind was reeling with fears and suspicions, but I wasn’t going to ask. Even though I couldn’t find anything about him on any social media sites – and trust me, I checked them all.
But then she said that her past has got nothing to do with me, and I needed to know. I couldn’t stop wondering if there was something between them. If something still is.
And her reaction when I did ask didn’t help either.
But I don’t understand why she couldn’t just tell me the truth – whatever it is. I would understand…
I rake my hand through my hair and sigh. No, maybe I wouldn’t.
I sit on the couch and try to get ahold of my thoughts.
Fuck, am I in the wrong here? Am I being a dick?
I took her silence as a confirmation, but a confirmation of what exactly, I have no idea. Because I'm pretty sure they aren't even in touch.
This whole thing is far too complicated, and it's my own fault. Because I'm the one who fell in love. I'm the one letting my emotions get the best of me.
I should never have pushed her.
I drop my head in my hands.
I can't believe I put her on the spot like that because of my own pathetic jealousy. I clench my eyes shut, trying to rid my mind of the memory of her panic-stricken face, the sight of her fingers feeling for her pills, because of me.
I'm the one who's supposed to fucking protect her!
But the worst part is the memory of the sound of her desperate voice uttering the one word I never expected to hear, not tonight.
Calculus.
I'm such a fucking bastard. It was me she spent all afternoon in bed with, me she would have spent the night with again, I know it. Why couldn't I just leave well enough alone?
I take a deep breath and pat my hair back into place. Now I have to go out to dinner with my boys, and pretend like my heart doesn't feel like it's been run through a fucking blender. But pretending everything is okay when I feel anything but is something I learned at a young age. Hell, I learned to tell my first lie about a bruise by the time I was seven.
Still, it kills me that I upset her, and I resolve to fix it in any way I can. All I can think of is to apologize, and if that doesn't work, maybe begging will. Maybe groveling on my fucking knees will get her to forgive me.
Because it's hard enough to see her hurt, but to be the cause of it… I'm pretty sure I've never felt worse.
I meet the boys downstairs and mutter a cursory apologize for making us all late. Tucker gives me an inquisitive look, but he's the only one with even the slightest inkling of suspicion that something is up.
Dinner is a long, rowdy affair, and my virtual silence is overshadowed by my friends' exuberance. Dave gives details about his hookup with Lily, and I roll my eyes. It's so damn disrespectful. Even when I hooked up with girls who didn't matter, I never talked about it, and if I wanted to for some reason, it would only be to Tucker. Not to a fucking group of guys. As if we all need to know about Lily's overactive gag reflex.
We arrive at the bar before the girls, but they're on their way, according to Andrew.
And then the one thing that can cheer me up, at least marginally, strolls into the bar.
"There she is," I announce as Thea, my cousin and one of my closest friends, saunters up to my group of boys without an ounce of hesitation.
She kisses my cheek and then greets my friends, all of whom she's known for years. "Hello, boys," she says with confidence.
Her red curls are wild as ever, and I roll my eyes as my friends check her out.
"Couldn't get a single person to hang out with you?" Dave teases.
"Fuck off," Thea replies without missing a beat, and I laugh despite my mood.
Dave pushed Thea in my family's pool when we were freshman and they've traded insults ever since, but Thea's wit tends to win out over Dave's immature bullshit.
Thea's in Miami with her mother, and I invited her to come out with us whenever she could make it. I want to introduce her to Rory since they'll be at school together next year, but now I don't even know if Rory is fucking speaking to me. I feel that emptiness in my stomach, and it just reminds me that I need to fix things with Rory as soon as fucking possible.
I order Thea's corona and lime, and she launches into some story about some girls she met by the pool yesterday that my friends and I "should totally hang out with".
I have no interest, of course. But I don't bother mentioning that I'm in love with a girl I pissed off so badly she fucking safe worded on me barely a couple hours ago.
Some guy knocks into Thea and I step forward to react, but Thea grabs my arm. She knows me too well, and I take deep breaths until I can let it go.
I sling my arm around her shoulders, so at least no one else will knock into her, and listen to her tell a ridiculous story about my aunt and their experience arguing about a forty five thousand dollar handbag at the Hermes boutique. The story is ridiculous, as is my aunt when it comes to luxury items, and we both laugh at her expense.
The girls walk in and I look around for Rory, peering through the crowd, but I can't find her.
Carl acts standoffish to Tucker, and I wonder what their deal is tonight, but I suspect it's just another one of their games, because I catch her looking at him out of the corner of her eye.
"Where's Rory?" I finally ask her.
She scrunches her brow and looks behind her, then back toward the entrance. "Um, I thought she was behind me," she says, and my stomach unsettles. "But we went to the bathroom when we came in." She turns to Lily. "Have you seen Rory?"
Lily shakes her head. "She didn't walk in with me, I don't think."
My breath catches. I have a terrible feeling, and I scowl at Carl. What the fuck kind of friend is she?
"You just left her fucking alone?!"
Carl's jaw drops, but I don't wait for her bullshit excuse, I turn and push my way through the dense crowd until I reach the exit.
It takes me a moment to spot her, but when I do, my anxiety morphs into raw, bitter jealousy.
Rory is fucking hooking up with some stranger.
What. the fuck.
Nausea unfurls in my gut, and I swallow down the acrid taste of bile rising in my throat. His mouth is all over her fucking neck, his hands are all over the rest of her. She sees me, and she stares like a deer in headlights.
That's right, I fucking caught you.
I look at her with utter disgust, trying to process the cruel realization that she isn't who I thought she was. Because the Rory I know wouldn't do something like this.
We have one fucking little fight, and she decides to find some random guy to what? Get payback?
Well she fucking got it, because I am so fucking disappointed in her, so fucking betrayed, that I can't even look at her for one more second.
I turn and head back into the bar, where my real friends are waiting for me, and order a double shot of Patron Anejo. I down it quickly and order another.
This is who I fucking love? A girl who values me about as much as yesterday's goddamned trash?
But that's the fucked up part. This is who I love. I can't undo it. My brain can't just tell my heart she doesn't deserve it, because it doesn't fucking matter. It doesn't change a goddamned thing. No matter how merciless her beh
avior, my heart can't just forget her. It can't forget her beauty and her wit, her intelligence and her loyalty...
And that's when it hits me like a fucking eighteen-wheeler.
"Tuck!" I bellow, not even making sure he's following before I race for the exit, shoving people out of my way.
Of course Rory would never do something like that! Fuck! Recognition slaps me right in the face. His blond hair is buzzed shorter than it was in his Facebook photo, but it's him. It has to be. She wasn't frozen like a deer in headlights because I caught her; she was frozen in fucking panic!
My heart is squeezed in a vise and my throat swells. I am panicking. I can barely breathe, but I run. I scan the spot across the street where I last saw her, but she's gone. Fucking vanished.
"Cap?" Tucker is behind me.
"Find Rory!" I order, and then sprint across the street, and then toward our hotel.
Suddenly I hear her – she screams, my fucking name, but it's coming from behind me, I think, so I turn around and race back in the other direction.
But she's fucking nowhere!
Oh, God, Rory, where are you?!
I point ahead for Tuck to run ahead of me. He obeys immediately and I follow behind him, terror gripping my heart.
And then I see it.
The alley is barely five feet wide, so dark I ran right past it, but I see it now.
I can make out figures, but there's no relief yet.
"Yes!" Rory shouts defiantly.
"You fucking whore!" a male voice snarls.
I reach them and the sight in front of me fills me so much rage I'm practically blinded with it. He slams her against the brick wall by her fucking throat, strangling her, her eyes wide with absolute terror, as he paws under her skirt and tries to force her legs apart.
I grab his head and slam it into the wall next to Rory, and while he's disoriented, I swing. He fights back, and he's not a small guy, but I've got at least twenty pounds on him, and I know how to fight.
He hurls curses, but I slam my fist into his face straight on, and he stumbles.
ReCAP: A NORMAL Novella Page 11