Waking Up

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Waking Up Page 17

by Renee Dyer


  “Thank you for having a piece of the pie.” I see the tears she’s trying to hold back.

  “It was really good. Gave my grams a run for her money, but I’ll lie if you ever tell her I said that,” I smile. “Why didn’t you have a piece?”

  A look of disgust crosses her face. She squinches her nose and purses her lips. It’s fucking adorable and has my lower half dancing in my pants. “Are you kidding me? That shit is gross.” I laugh as she makes “akking” sounds. It’s childish and it makes me want her even more.

  “What?! Key lime pie is one of my favorites,” I protest.

  “Well then you can eat the whole disgusting thing,” she says making fake puking faces.

  “Gladly,” I laugh at her. “You want to bring it in or does the mere thought of holding it make you want to vomit?”

  She giggles. “I got it, smartass.”

  “I’ll grab the rest of this and meet you inside.” She doesn’t say anything else, no more jibes or puking sounds, but she does give me one of her heart stopping smiles before heading in.

  I take a second to calm my lower region that’s been dancing the libido limbo every time Adriana is around. Staring at the stars, I’m blown away at the intensity of them, the brightness. I’ve seen the stars before, but not like this or maybe I didn’t pay attention. There’s no street lights, no smog, no billboards, or skyscrapers to hinder the view. It’s breathtaking. I’d love to lay in the grass side by side with her, holding her hand, looking up at the stars, kissing her under the stars, making love to her under the stars.

  Whoa, whoa, whoa– hold up there, lover boy. She’s not yours. You’re leaving in the morning to prevent her from getting hurt. Keep your game face on.

  Grabbing the last two plates, I head into the house, help Adriana box the last of the desserts up, and say good night.

  I know I won’t sleep tonight, but I need to be alone. Need time to think. I walk away from her, feel her eyes following me, sense there’s something she wants to say. I don’t give her the chance. I know she felt the difference in me when I came in the house, the distance, but I couldn’t explain that it’s best for her. I walk up the stairs never looking back and close myself in my room.

  Three doors down from her.

  Fuck! This is going to be a long night.

  Chapter Nine

  Preston & Alahna

  “I don’t fucking like it. I don’t like him over there with her. I should have stayed there or you should have. Shit. Why the hell did we leave her alone with him?”

  “Calm down.” Feeling arms wrap around my waist, I turn around to see blue eyes staring into mine. Blue eyes I love more than life that normally fill me with peace. But, right now my mind is too turbulent, my emotions on overload. I just left my best friend with a fucking play boy. What was I thinking?

  Removing her arms from my waist, I step back and recoil when I see her eyes ice over from hurt. Hurt that I caused. I want to take it away, take her back into my arms, show her how much I love her, but I have the overwhelming urge to punch something and I don’t want her too close to me if I explode. I’m shaking inside and I don’t know if it’s evident on the outside, but she backs up a step and wraps her arms around her midsection.

  “Talk to me, Pres. You’re scaring me, baby. And we promised on our wedding day we’d never shut each other out.” Her tone is coaxing, practiced. After years of practice to get through the scars of our pasts, we did promise not to shut each other out. I just need a few more seconds. I begin my mental count. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Oh, fuck this, it never works.

  “I can’t. You saw her tonight, Lana.” I purposely use the nickname that only I can call her. I need her to see how messed up I am. Need her to know that she has to keep some distance right now because I’m a volatile mess and God only knows what I’m capable of. “You heard her. She talked about Alex… and she didn’t cry. She didn’t even start breathing funny.” I hear how my voice catches and I hate the weakness, hate how much I’ve missed Adri and how I worry I’ll lose her all over again. I don’t know if I can handle that. I’m afraid of the breakdown that will ensue. “She hugged me. She fucking hugged me.” I can’t stop the tear that falls down my cheek. “That Hollywood motherfucker is going to break her again. I’m just getting her back.”

  I feel more than I see Lana moving closer to me. I haven’t been able to look at her the whole time I was talking. I didn’t shut her out, but that doesn’t mean I have to look her in the eye while the personal hell I’m feeling swirls through my head for her to see all over my face.

  She rubs the tear away, keeps her hand on my cheek, and softly says, “I think he might be the one to bring her back to us all the way.”

  Feeling like I’ve been burned by her touch, her words, I jump back. “That’s bullshit, Lana,” I spew at her. “You women and your fucking romantic nonsense. What do you think will fucking happen?” I know I’m screaming, but I can’t stop. Today was the first time I was truly allowed to feel grief over losing Alex and the first time I felt like Adri was going to be alright, even if only for a few minutes. Now, my wife has lost her fucking mind and wants to throw Adri to the wolves. Never in our relationship have I wanted to strangle her, but I think that’s what I’m feeling right now. Murderous. I need to calm down before I do something I’ll regret. Become the monster I hated my whole life. That thought still doesn’t stop me from my verbal tirade. “Do you think he’ll quit his show, move to nowhere Goddamn New Hampshire, marry Adri, they’ll have 2.5 kids, and live happily ever after? Get a grip. This isn’t one of your books,” I spit at her, my words laced with acid.

  My whole body is vibrating with anger as she stands there calm as can be with a shit eating grin on her face. Here I am, trying not to explode, and she’s smiling at me. Damn, she’s beautiful. The shock of seeing her smile through my fit makes me realize I’m not angry at her. I’m angry at Alex for dying. I’m angry at Adriana for checking out on life. And I’m angry at myself that I couldn’t help her get better and some smarmy movie star waltzed in and she’s hugging me, throwing my whole life into a tailspin. Shit!

  And why the hell is she still smiling at me? She should me slapping the shit out of me. At the very least, telling me I’m a stupid asshole and making me grovel for her forgiveness.

  “What in the hell are you smiling about?” I say this with a whole lot less attitude than a few minutes before. I probably should have started with “I’m sorry”. Dumb ass that I am didn’t think of that being blinded by that gorgeous face of hers.

  I watch as she places her hands on her hips, squares her shoulders, looks me directly in my eyes. Yep, should have started with “I’m sorry”. I’m in deep shit. Time to take my licks.

  “One, that was quite the tantrum. Done acting like a damn two year old?” I nod, knowing she’s not done yet and she doesn’t like being interrupted. “Two, I saw something you didn’t tonight. That’s why I can say I think Tucker might be the one to bring our girl back to us.”

  She’s still holding my gaze, daring me to mouth off to her again. I come close, but know better. It will surely earn me a cuff and maybe even some time on the couch which I most definitely do not want. But, I can’t think of anything she could have seen that would make her think Mr. Hollywood is good enough to bring Adri back to us. He seems nice enough, but he’s a movie star for Christ’s sake.

  Still staring at me while I go through my mental musings, her gaze never letting up. “What did you see?” I finally ask, earning me a smile that has my dick trying to jump out and touch someone. Not just someone. Her.

  “I watched, well, stopped, Tucker from going after you with clenched fists while you were talking to Adri.”

  “What? Why? That doesn’t make sense,” I stammer.

  “Of course it doesn’t to you. Men,” she says exasperated. “He wasn’t even aware he was doing it. He saw her tears and went all caveman. Me protect girl. Oo-oo.”

  “But I would have beat his ass. He had t
o have known that. Boy used to having everything done for him with no one here to back him up. Really?” I’m not trying to toot my own horn, but I’ve been in a scrape or two. Haven’t lost yet and don’t plan to.

  “He obviously didn’t care.” She’s looking at me like I’m dense.

  “Then why… oh, shit.”

  “Looks like you’re getting it, Fists.” She uses her old nickname for me from college. “He’s falling for our Adri and he’s falling fast.”

  “No, no, no, no, no, no! Lana this can’t happen!” I look at the woman I love, the woman who has saved me on more than one occasion, willing her to understand. “He’ll charm her, make her care, make her fall for him, and then leave. She’ll break all over again.” Placing my face in my hands, I need another second. I’ve never been good with this emotion shit. “She just started coming back to life.” I can barely say the words. “I can’t lose her again.”

  “I know, baby. How about I take you and your bad ass self to bed? I promise to make you forget all this sadness and stress for a while.” She pulls my hands from my face and the look in her eyes has me forgetting everything else. The fire burning there tells me of what’s to come upstairs. This woman has a way of making me forget my own name when she looks at me with those smoldering eyes. These problems will still be here in the morning.

  “Lead the way, gorgeous.”

  A small chuckle falls from her lips and all I can think is how I want to kiss her. Feel the softness of her lips on mine. Lick my way into them, lose myself in her. She grabs my hand and pulls me up the stairs behind her, leads me to our bedroom, and proceeds to make good on her promise.

  Chapter Ten

  Adriana

  I place his shirt on the bed where I picture he would be lying next to me and lay my hand over part of the N and H where his heart would be. Imagining his heart beating, his chest rising and falling, I inhale slowly, taking in the familiar scent of his cologne. I smile as the memory of the scent brings his green eyes back to life for me, his blonde hair still wet from the shower dampens his pillow, he’s smiling his boyish smile at me, his hand running circles over mine on his chest.

  “Hey, baby. How was your day?” He continues to smile his gorgeous smile at me, not moving, not saying anything. He never does. My heart, already bitter and broken, crumbles a bit more. I want to scream. Rail at him to answer me, say anything. Dammit! But, he’s a figment of my imagination. And it’s all I have left of him.

  So begins my nightly routine…

  “It’s been an interesting day. I have so much to tell you.” I snuggle into his pillow, rubbing my hand over his t-shirt, forcing the tears back that want to fall due to my inability to hold his image for long. The longer he’s gone, the harder it is to trick my mind into believing he’s beside me. Already dreading the inevitable ache I’ll feel when his image leaves me, I shudder.

  I close my eyes. Picture him in his gray UNH t-shirt, my favorite. The way it hugged his chest, hung over his lean hips, how I loved running my hands under it, feeling his smooth skin. Behind my closed lids I see his eyes, bright as the leaves freshly sprung in spring, sparkling with mischief. His mouth, full and kissable, quirked from laughing, always smiling. His golden skin, complimented by his sandy blond hair with that hand just run through it perfection that I begged him to never change.

  I open my eyes and there he is, lying flat on his back, head tilted toward me, lips quirked up in a smile, love shining in his eyes while my hand rubs circles on his chest. A single tear falls down my cheek onto his pillow. How I pray I can hold the image this time.

  “I miss you so much, Alex. I wish I could kiss you one more time. Touch you in any way. I don’t know how to do this without you.” Like every other night, I wonder if he can hear me. Sometimes I swear I feel him with me, holding me. The times when I think I can’t go on anymore, when my heart is so heavy it might spontaneously combust. Tonight isn’t one of those nights. I don’t feel him at all. I feel nothing. Emptiness.

  I’m depressed and relieved at the same time. Having Tucker down the hall makes me feel guilty. Guilty for having another man in our home. Guilty for the attraction I feel toward him. And guilty that nothing can come of the attraction because my heart belongs to Alex.

  Always has, always will.

  “Did you send him here?” I whisper at the image beside me. Of course he says nothing. He keeps smiling that gorgeous smile that melts and breaks my heart. “Did you send Tucker here?” I ask more forcefully. “Are you trying to force me into moving on? I have news for you. It won’t work. I’m not letting you go. Do you hear me, Alex?

  “I’m. Not. Letting. You. Go.”

  Putting as much emphasis as I can on those last words, I don’t know who I need to hear it most, Alex or me.

  “You would have been proud of me tonight, baby. I stood up for myself.” A smile crosses my face as I think of how I told my friends Tucker is staying here no matter what. Never the type to be forceful, I typically run from confrontation. Despise it, but something in me snapped tonight. My friends were rude and presumptuous of who they think Tucker is. It pissed me off. I get it that they’re concerned about me. I haven’t exactly been a peach to deal with. But, I’ll be damned if I’ll condone that kind of callous behavior.

  Feeling myself get worked up again, I take a few steadying breaths and look into the green of Alex’s eyes. Get lost for a few moments. I know he’s isn’t really with me, but I let myself believe that I feel his breath blowing across my neck and his body warming my side where we’re pressed together. A small contented sigh pushes its way through my lips.

  “I allowed myself to hug our friends. I know, huge, right? I let them hug me back, too. I think I freaked the shit out of them,” I say on a short laugh. “At first it was… honestly, Alex, it felt like my skin was crawling. But it did get little easier. I didn’t have the urge to slap their hands away by the end of the night or vomit at the thought of contact. It’s just that… well, I haven’t wanted anyone to touch me since you left.”

  I can never say died to him. I always say left. Tonight, like so many other nights, I wonder if he knows he’s dead. I can’t be the one to break the news to him.

  Guilt washes over me again. I can’t bring myself to tell Alex that I hugged Tucker. More than once and had several stolen touches all day and night. And, not once did my skin crawl, did I want to slap him, or did I have the urge to vomit.

  Touching him felt like coming home. A feeling I thought was reserved for Alex and Alex alone.

  Three doors down is not far enough away. I wonder what he’s sleeping in. Did he feel the electricity when we touched? Does he have the urge to kiss me? Does he feel the pull? Judging by the way he was treating me when he went to bed, I don’t think so. But, today and all night, he was so different. Maybe I should ask him to leave before I get more confused. I just don’t know what to do or how to feel.

  I open my eyes, not realizing I had closed them. Alex’s image is fading.

  “No, Alex, please don’t go. Stay a little longer, baby. Please,” I beg, tears streaming down my face, soaking his pillow. “I’ll be better. I’ll push him away. I’m not letting you go, Alex. I’m not letting you go!”

  But, his image is gone and I’m left alone, sobbing, clutching an empty t-shirt I’ve pathetically sprayed with his cologne to keep it smelling like him.

  Still sobbing, I snuggle into the bed with Alex’s t-shirt pressed to my heart. I yelp out an “I’m sorry” and cry until the blackness takes me under, the whole time praying that he can hear me and that he knows how much I still love him.

  Chapter Eleven

  Blake & Mickayla

  “Oh God, Blake. Mmmmmmm-mmmm.” I watch as she starts to come down from the orgasm pulsing through her body, biting down on my lower lip as the ripples from her core milk me dry. Her back arched, hair hanging down, fanning her in red flames, her tits jutting out, I keep my arms locked around her waist. Seeing her wound up and in need of so much releasing,
I wish I could get hard instantly and start all over again. But, I’m just a man. Doesn’t mean I can’t give her what she needs. My girl is insatiable.

  Pulling her back into me, her emerald eyes lock onto mine. The flare I see in them tells me she’s not done. I smirk and flip her onto her back relishing in the laugh she lets out. Leaving her body for a brief moment, I grab B.O.B., her favorite companion, and come right back to her. Pushing him into her wet folds, I turn him to the highest vibrate setting while my fingers work her clit. Her eyes are like fire and the curses streaming from her mouth no lady should say, but it makes her so hot. My mouth finds her nipple and I know she likes when I give it a good bite. Enough to sting. I blow on it and lave the pain away.

  Her panting tells me she’s close to going over the edge again, so I work my fingers faster and move B.O.B. till I know he’s hitting the spot she likes. Her whole body flies up, connecting with mine, and I smile knowing I can make her lose control. She’s panting, incoherent babble falling from her lips. I turn B.O.B. down slowly and slide him out of her, placing a couple kisses on her thighs. The smile on her face stops my heart, disarms me.

  Has since the day I met her.

  “Want to tell me what has you so pent up?” I ask her. I don’t mind making her come seven ways till whatever day that saying is, but I don’t like when she gets this way. She gets cranky as fuck and takes it out on me. Women.

  “What’s that supposed to mean B?” she snaps back.

  Uh-oh. Too soon. Three orgasms wasn’t enough to start the questioning. Maybe I should stick her with B.O.B. again.

  “If you have something to say, then say it,” Mickayla snaps again, sitting up now, looking sexy as hell with her auburn hair falling over her shoulders and her tits on full display. Her emerald eyes lock on me, locked and loaded, like she’s going to cap my ass. Did I lock the gun cabinet?

 

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