A Year of You

by A. D. Roland

  West paused, lips pressed to her neck just below her ear. “Yeah. I guess it would. But maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing.”

  Startled, Mattie turned around and stared at him. “Are you serious? You don’t want a kid right now. Especially with me.”

  “Why wouldn’t I want a kid with you, Mats?” His lips were moving lower, mouthing her nipples through her thin ribbed tank top. She gasped and slid her hands into his hair. He moved to the other nipple. The air cooled the wet spot on her chest. He tongued her nipples until she was arching toward him, craving his touch. Desperate for it.

  West grinned up at her, the wicked evil grin she loved so much. When he smiled like that it meant things were going to happen. True to form he grasped the waist of her shorty pajama bottoms and eased them down.

  Mattie laughed at him when he cursed at her underwear.

  “From now on, no panties,” he growled. When the offending garment was gone, he propped her thighs up on his shoulders, slid her ass to the edge of the chair and delved into the hot wet part of her that was his, only his.

  ***

  “Does this usually happen?” Mattie asked West on her way back into the kitchen for more potato chips. They had a dozen people crowded in the backyard, five or six of them sawing away on guitars, threatening to chop down the very trees with sound waves. Georgia was caterwauling away into a microphone, doing an amazing rendition of The Cranberries’ “Zombie.”

  “Yeah. That’s why I told you to stock up on food. In an hour or so we’ll get the grill going and somebody’ll show up with a keg, and the party’ll be on.” He goosed her, making her slosh her cup of Pepsi all over her arm and shirt. Already frazzled by the demands on her, it was a breaking point.

  “Quit being a bastard, West,” she griped, shaking her arm, splattering him with brown droplets. “You could have told me. I thought it was just going to be you and the guys and Georgia.”

  “I told you I was having some friends over. Why’re you so mad?”

  “Because. You didn’t tell me, and I wasn’t prepared. I’m still feeling nasty, and this is just more than I want to deal with right now. And more people are coming?”

  “Yeah. Mattie, it’s not a big deal. Get over it and have fun. This happens pretty often.”

  “You never told me that either! I’ve been here close to three months, and it’s never happened.”

  She grabbed another two-liter out of the fridge. With it in one hand and the remains of her

  Pepsi in another, she whipped around to head back outside. West was in the way, so she smacked into him and ended up dousing herself in cold soda and ice. Gasping from the shock, she dropped the two- liter.

  “That was your fault,” West said.

  “Fuck you!”

  “Why are you being such a bitch?” He grabbed a handful of paper towels and tried to swab the worst of the drink off her shirt. “Just chill out and have fun, sweetheart.”

  She had a nasty retort on her lips when the front door opened, and the last person on earth she wanted to see walked in.

  “There you are, Brant!” Emeline gushed. “I’ve been looking for you all over, hot stuff.”

  “Hey there,” West replied, grinning and draping an arm over her scrawny shoulders. Emeline’s smug look inspired a rage so intense that it overcame Mattie so quickly she thought she was going to explode. West must have noticed something, because he turned Emeline around and propelled her toward the sliding glass doors. “Right behind you, Em.”

  Emeline rolled her eyes and walked a couple steps away. She watched them, arms crossed over her skinny chest, waiting. All but tapping her toes.

  West pushed Mattie down the hall until he got her to the bedroom. He slammed the door. “What the hell is your problem tonight?”

  “I don’t have a problem. You have a problem. You got that nauseating look on your face already. What is she doing here?”

  “What look? Ruth Ellen asked me to watch out for her, too, Mattie. She’s worried that the things happening to you might happen to her.”

  “So you’re her protector now? You’re still not over her. You’ve got some nerve, West. You spout all that crap about, ‘Oh let’s give us a try’ but the second you see her, you’re all hers.”

  Mattie yanked off her T-shirt. A million different emotions bubbled up in her, all vying for release. She settled for bursting into tears, burying her face in her hands.

  Tenderly, West pulled her into his arms. His hands were warm against the bare skin of her back. “Come on, what’s your problem, Mattie? Talk to me.”

  “You’re gonna spend the whole night with her and leave me alone and everybody’s going to talk about me and Georgia’s going to want to kick your ass or something—”

  “No, now, listen, sweetie.”

  Mattie sniffled and waited for him to assure her he would be right by her side all night. That everything he sang, everything that happened would be for her.

  Instead, he broke her heart and pissed her off. “If I leave Em alone, they’ll eat her alive. You can handle anything these guys dish out.”

  “No, she’s perfectly capable of taking care of herself, West. I’ve never seen her in some situation she couldn’t fuck her way out of, literally.”

  “Quit being such a bitch, Mattie!”

  A moment of dark red and black overcame her thoughts. Without even thinking about what she was doing, she smacked him across the face.

  He stared at her, stunned, one hand moving slowly to his cheek. Even in the dim, sunset-lit room, she could see his cheek turning red. Horror at what she’d done set in, rather than apologizing, she crossed her arms under her breasts and looked away.

  The hard set of his entire body down to his clenched fists let her know just how furious he was. She rarely saw him that way. He inhaled deeply, exhaling through his nose. When she finally worked up enough courage to look him in the face, he was a stranger to her.

  He licked his bottom lip and half-turned toward the door. “I will do whatever the hell I please. If I choose to spend the evening—hell, the night, with one of my best friends, I damn well will.” He yanked open the door. “And if you ever hit me again, I can’t promise I’ll be a gentleman about it.”

  K had never scared her as much as the intensity in his eyes did at that moment. It rocked her to her very soul. “West—”

  “Uh-uh. Just shut up and get dressed and get back outside. I need you to helpful tonight.” He stalked down the hallway. A moment later Mattie heard his warm voice mingled with Emeline’s idiotic flirting giggles.

  Mattie leaned out the door and hollered, “Fuck both of you!” There was silence for a second, then Emeline’s cascade of hysterical giggles rang around Mattie’s ears like wind chimes on crack.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Mattie emerged from the house, clear-headed from crying for so long, but feeling better over all. The crowd seemed to have doubled in the thirty minutes she’d been inside. At least twenty-five people milled around, some of them Mattie had never seen before. West and Emeline were nowhere in sight.

  If she hunted them down, she’d probably stumble on something she definitely didn’t want to see. Didn’t want to think about.

  Ewww, wait. There was Em’s goofy giggle. Mattie scanned the darkening yard and found her perched on a tailgate of a truck she didn’t recognize, surrounded by a crowd of guys who weren’t West. He was probably just getting her a drink. He’d be back at her side, the titty-baby he was.

  There was a commotion at the makeshift stage—a low-set trailer off the hitch, propped up by cinderblocks—and as she looked, she saw West bound up on stage and snatch the mic out of the stand. He said something to Rebel and Townsend and the drummer, a guy Mattie didn’t know, then launched into Crossfade’s “So Cold,” grinding out the lyrics with such a passion that she felt it deep in her bones. When the song ended, he dropped the mic and hopped off the stage, much to the disappointment of the crowd.

  Mattie’s brain suddenly buzz
ed her, reminding her she needed oxygen. She sucked in a gasp of air. His voice...how would she live without hearing him sing?

  “You look thirsty!” Georgia flounced up with two bottles of beer. Mattie took one, even though she hated the taste. “Damn, woman, you look good.”

  Mattie glanced down at her clothes. Her racer-back tank was tight, white, and her pink bra was barely more than a handful of lace and satin. The blue jean skirt rode low on her hips and high on her thighs. Flip-flops and an anklet completed the look. “Thanks.”

  Georgia touched her shoulder lightly, a soft, awkward caress. “You know, if it doesn’t work out with West, and if you’re interested, I think me and you could...you know, get along.”

  Mattie managed to suppress her shock. “I’ll remember that. Have you seen West?”

  “With the whore.”

  “Ugh.” Mattie’s stomach sank as she turned around and saw West beside the truck, having an animated conversation with some guy who was lining up shots along the side of the cargo bed. West knocked them back as fast as they got poured, in competition with a guy on the other side doing the same thing. Emeline was dancing around West, all but peeing on herself in excitement. West gulped back the last shot a full two glasses before the other guy. He whooped and raised his hands in victory.

  “Some jam session,” she muttered.

  “Oh yeah,” Georgia replied. “I meant to warn you. ‘Jam session’ is another phrase for ‘night of drunken debauchery.’”

  “Lovely.”

  “Yeah. Anyway, screw West and Em tonight. Let ‘em do whatever the hell they want. You got me, babe.” Georgia winked. “Don’t worry. All I’m gonna do is get you drunk. I might try a lil’ something…”

  Mattie flashed her a thumbs up. “Works for me. Where do we start?”

  “Right this way, milady.” Georgia threaded her arm through Mattie’s and led her on a meandering journey through the backyard.

  Night fell. The make-shift stage was abandoned in favor of a bonfire. West and a handful of other people sat around it in a half-circle, guitars in hand. Despite the amount of liquor West was steadily consuming, his voice was steady and strong as he sang along with the acoustic music.

  Mattie settled down in the shadows to listen. She’d had a few drinks, not enough to do anymore than give her a weak buzz that was fading fast. Georgia sat down next to her and held a joint out to her. Mattie shook her head. “No thanks.”

  “Come on. You’re so tense. It’ll definitely get your mind off his shit.” Georgia took a hit.

  “Nah, I’m good.” After a while her butt got numb and she paced toward the fire. Emeline was sitting on the ground by West’s side, staring up at him adoringly.

  “That just tears me up,” she said to nobody in particular.

  “Do something about it, then,” Georgia said. She passed the joint to some chick that walked past. I don’t even know where to start. With K, fighting cost her too much. How would West react?

  They’d finally gotten close. Mattie had never been so happy, so content with her life. She didn’t want to risk it by starting a fight with Emeline.

  “That’s your man, ain’t it?” Georgia said.

  “Yes.” No. In a matter of weeks, everything we’ve shared will mean absolutely nothing. Georgia brushed by Mattie and stalked over to West and Emeline. Em had her hand on West’s knee possessively as he sang.

  “Yo,” Georgia said, nudging Emeline in the back with her shoe. “Whore.”

  Emeline shot to her feet. “Oh my God, do you realize how much this shirt cost? More than you’re worth, lesbo!” Mattie surrendered to her base nature and shoved Emeline in the chest. The skinny woman toppled over backwards. She was on her feet again, the surgery-tightened and manipulated skin on her face stretched into a hideous scowl. “Do that again, bitch!”

  “You really want me to?” Mattie stepped forward, shoulders squared, head held high. “I’d happily mess that pretty little face of yours up.”

  Like wildfire, word of a catfight broke out, and the singing, booze, drugs, and debauchery were forgotten. Everybody gathered around Mattie and Emeline. West had a dazed expression on his face, like he didn’t know what was going on or what to do.

  Emeline growled some weak insults. Georgia snorted. “Shit, Mattie. Just do something.”

  “Go home, Emeline,” Mattie said, still trying to avoid a physical confrontation. West chose that moment to barf all over his own feet. While she was distracted, Emeline rushed her.

  Mattie hit the ground hard. Adrenaline and more of those primitive human instincts kicked in. She flipped the lighter woman off of her and straddled her body. Before she could land one punch, someone hauled her off Emeline.

  “What the hell are you doing?” West hollered in her face, shaking her by the shoulders. The crowd parted for them like water as he half dragged her, half stumbled toward the front yard. Mattie struggled against his iron-hard grip.

  “Let me go!”

  “Get in the house, now!” He hustled her up the porch stairs, then into the house. A few vaguely familiar people were in the living room, watching a basketball game on TV. Seeing West’s angry expression, they cleared out quick. West slammed the sliding glass doors.

  “What the hell are you thinking?”

  “What are you thinking? She’s hanging all over you like some sort of leech, and you’re letting her do it. It should be me sitting there next to you, and me you’re showing off to all your buddies and just me, me, me!” Stunned by her own outburst, Mattie clapped a hand over her mouth. She shook her head. She sucked in a deep breath and paced away from him.

  “No. No. You know what, I don’t care. I really don’t. Over and over again I think maybe me and you are getting somewhere; then I find out that you’ve been seeing her or she shows up and the truth comes crashing down on me.”

  “Damn it, Mattie. I can’t have this conversation now. I don’t want to say something I don’t mean.”

  “Say it. There’s some grain of truth to it, I’m sure. Tell me one thing though. Would you rather have her next to you, or me?”

  West groaned and fumbled through the kitchen cabinets until he found a bottle of Jack. He took a swig straight from bottle, wincing. “Don’t do this, Mattie. Don’t, don’t, don’t.”

  “Would you rather be with her? It’s a simple conversation. I have no emotional investment in the answer, West. I just want to know so I won’t let myself think the wrong thing.” He closed his eyes, swaying slightly. Mattie saw his stomach clench visibly under his snug black T- shirt. She backed up a step so if he did puke, it wouldn’t hit her.

  “I want to have a good time tonight. That’s all.”

  “You can’t have a good time with me?”

  One of his eyes opened. “Wait. What the hell are you wearing?”

  “Umm...clothes?”

  “You look like a whore.” Mattie gaped at him, mad and insulted. “It’s nearly identical to Emeline’s outfit!”

  “Yeah, but it’s something I want to see on somebody else’s girlfriend, not my own.”

  “Good thing I’m not your girlfriend.” She tucked her hair behind her ears and adopted a subtly sexy pose, hips cocked slightly, breasts outthrust. “I need some attention from somebody tonight, West. You’re not exactly being the attentive husband.”

  “What the hell’s that mean? You been screwing around out there?”

  Mattie raised on eyebrow at him. She refused to answer. His cheeks reddened further. “Mattie, answer me!”

  “No.”

  He whirled around and threw the bottle of Jack through the window over the stove. Startled by his overt violence, Mattie backed up a step. West had a dark side, a violently passionate side, but he kept it well under wraps. In the bedroom, she loved it. She’d never seen him lose control, though.

  He advanced on her until she was up against the wall between the front door and the narrow dining room table. He slammed one palm against the wall beside her head.

&nb
sp; Instead of being totally terrified, Mattie found herself so turned on it almost hurt. The fire in his eyes, the tension in his strong solid body, the way he smelled—of sweat, smoke, and alcohol was an aphrodisiac to her.

  “Tell me who you’ve been out there with, Mattie.” He leaned close, dangerously close, his face just inches from hers. She didn’t have to look or touch him to know he was aroused. She could feel the familiar heat radiating from his body, invading hers. In that moment, she never felt more like a woman, nor so alive. Her heart wanted to scream with an uncontained joy that in this very moment, he was all hers.

  “All of your friends,” she replied. She looked away from him, toward the glass doors. The sheet had fallen over the panels. Good, ‘cuz something crazy’s about to happen. I don’t care if he hits me, as long as he touches me.

  He gripped her chin roughly and forced her to look at him. His hand slid down to her throat, where he wrapped his hand around her neck firmly enough for her to feel him, but loose enough so she wasn’t hurt or hindered. She had to suck in a deep breath to control herself. Play it out. This will be the best night of your life—and this relationship. “Did any of them touch you?”

  “Lots of them.” That hand on her neck tightened ever so slightly.

  “Where?”

  “Lots of places.”

  The wonderful hand let go of her throat and moved to her breast, squeezed. “Here?” The sensation sent repeated itself throughout her body. Her breath caught in her throat.

  Mattie nodded, even though no one had touched her except for him. The hand moved to her hip. “Here?” Another nod. The hand dipped lower, slid along her thigh, then up her skirt. “Like this?” Breathing heavily, Mattie nodded again.

  West’s fingers slipped into the crotch of her panties. Already so hot she couldn’t stand it, the slightest flick of his fingers on her clit sent her into a paroxysm of orgasm. Rather than let her wilt into him, he planted his hands on her shoulders and pushed her down the wall. She took to her knees immediately, seeking the big hard bulge in his pants with her hands, her mouth. Accustomed to his length, she took him as deeply as she could. He groaned and shifted his weight, bracing himself against the wall with one hand. The other hand tangled in Mattie’s hair, pulling, tugging. Mattie couldn’t help herself as she made love to him with her mouth. Feel me in this, she thought, hoping he could hear her somehow. I can’t even tell you how I feel, but feel it in this. Know it with this.