In Ruins

by Danielle Pearl

  “I…I…don’t feel good.”

  I run my hand soothingly through her hair like she’s a small child. “I know. But you’re gonna be fine. You just need to sleep, and tomorrow you’ll feel okay.”

  Her hand slides slowly and tremulously forward until it makes contact with my T-shirt, and her fingers bunch the material, like she wants to make sure I can’t get away, but still, her eyes remain shut.

  “Please stay with me,” she breathes.

  It’s like a knife to my chest—her thinking that I would just leave her like this.

  “Not going anywhere, Princess.”

  She takes a deep breath for the first time since I found her with Ben in the damned hallway.

  “How do you feel?” I ask her.

  Her eyelids press together, her brows pinching in a frown before her eyes flutter open. “Dizzy,” she groans. “Nauseous.”

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper.

  “And…high,” she adds. “D’he do it on purpose?” I wonder if she’s asking if Ben got her this fucked up on purpose or something more nefarious. I have my suspicions, but I know it’s not something she needs to hear right now.

  “Did you?” I counter.

  “Mmm mmm,” she mumbles. “Ass pin.”

  “What?”

  “’S’perin.”

  “Huh?” The fuck?

  And then I realize what she’s trying to say. “Aspirin?”

  Her head falls forward in a weak nod.

  So she thought she was taking aspirin. I’m going to fucking murder Ben in his sleep. I glance at the east wall of my bedroom, knowing that only about forty feet in that direction, Ben is probably sleeping soundly, completely unconcerned with the consequences of his actions. I roll my jaw in an attempt to unclench the tension.

  I try not to let Carl’s fingers on my stomach affect me in the usual way, but it’s hopeless. The way her fingers twitch over my abs makes the thin cotton between her skin and mine evaporate, and just being in her proximity has me swollen and aching. In just the T-shirt and boxers I was wearing when I came out to check on her, my arousal is obvious, but she’s too out of it to notice.

  It’s going to be a long night.

  I think she may have fallen asleep when she speaks softly.

  “Please don’t hate me, Tuck. Just for one night.” It comes out something between an exhale and a wistful sigh, but it hits me hard.

  “I don’t hate you, Carl.” Fifty/fifty she won’t remember this conversation come morning. Still, I’m not sure I should admit how I feel—which is that I have no fucking clue how I feel anymore.

  “Sometimes I hate me.”

  I don’t think she means to say it out loud. She may not even realize she’s said it at all. But it fucking guts me.

  Carl is not that girl. She’s never entertained an ounce of insecurity or self-loathing. She’s not vain or conceited. Instead, she’s always been filled with a healthy sense of confidence and self-respect. It’s part of the reason I’d fallen in love with her in the first place.

  “No you don’t, Carl. Don’t say that.” I sound equal parts pissed and pleading.

  “Mm…” She doesn’t agree. She doesn’t say anything really, it’s more her tone that speaks volumes. It’s just matter-of-fact. And I realize how much our demise has really changed her at her core. And it twists the knife gutting my insides, ripping me apart turn by turn.

  “Carl, you’re impossible to hate.” I stare at her sweet, heart-shaped face, eyes shuttered, but somehow her expression more open and honest than I’ve seen since the night she first told me she was in love with me. I stroke her soft cheek with the pad of my thumb. “Trust me, Princess,” I breathe. “I really fucking tried.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Tucker

  Last Year

  I’m completely overwhelmed. Drowning in an ocean of emotion, wave after wave cresting in surges of pure fucking ecstasy, only to crash in fear.

  Carl is mine. I love her, and I have her. She’s all I’ve ever wanted, long before I was even cognizant of the fact, but now that I know I have her love, another inevitable fact comes with it. I have her, and that means I have her to lose.

  As I lie here on the soft hotel mattress, wrapped firmly around—as of last night—my girlfriend, I still can’t bring myself to close my eyes.

  This spring break trip to Miami was supposed to be about carefree fun—a bunch of friends blowing off steam before finals. But Carl and I had reached our breaking point, and after almost a year of push and pull, denied emotions and an attraction that’s come to border on fucking obsession, something was bound to give. Of course it would take us one of our trademark blowouts followed by an epic wake-up call to get us to confess our feelings, but now that we finally have, I just can’t seem to stop staring at her—as if letting her out of my sight might make it less real.

  Ungodly early morning light filters through the small crack in the blackout curtains, highlighting the soft glow of her golden hair, and I press my lips to her temple for what must be the hundredth time since we lay down together only a few hours ago.

  I’ve never felt so goddamned vulnerable in my life, and I don’t fucking like it.

  Loss isn’t unfamiliar to me. Its force has been a perpetual presence in my life since I was thirteen years old. So I need no reminder of how exposed I suddenly feel.

  When she said the words I never imagined I’d hear from her perfect lips, I couldn’t quite believe it. But there it was.

  She fucking loves me.

  All these years I’d accepted it as a given that I could never deserve her. But Carl obviously doesn’t see it that way. She never did. She loves me. And for the first time, I let myself imagine a future my subconscious has never before allowed. And it’s fucking beautiful.

  I stare down at her perfect sleeping form and my chest swells with possession and pride.

  I miss her. It’s stupid as fuck, but right now, even right next to her, I actually miss her.

  I shouldn’t wake her up. It’s barely dawn. But I miss her, and I just want to talk to her for a few minutes—reaffirm that she’s really here, really mine. Then I’ll let her go back to sleep.

  I sweep my lips along her long, delicate throat, dragging them down to her exposed collarbone. Carl has always been a light sleeper, and she stirs instantly.

  Her skin is unfathomably soft against my lips, and I slip my tongue out for a small taste.

  “Tuck?” She exhales.

  Already I regret waking her. My mouth is busy with the curve of her shoulder. “Go back to sleep, baby,” I tell her, kissing my way up her neck and the underside of her chin.

  Her breath hitches. “Tuck…” It comes out more like a moan this time, and her breathy tone makes me change my mind again. I want her up after all.

  “You taste so good, Princess. I fucking love your skin.”

  “Mmm…” Carl turns her head to give me better access. “Just my skin?” she teases, her fingertips dancing on the back of my neck.

  My heart beats a little faster and my boxer briefs grow even tighter. My girl is up and she wants to play.

  “Hmm. Let me think,” I taunt right back, my hand finding her lithe thigh and sliding upward. She slips her leg around my hip, welcoming my greedy hand on her tight ass as I climb over her. God I love her ass. “This is okay, too,” I tell her.

  “Okay?” She feigns offense. “You don’t love it?” She shrugs that perfect shoulder. “Well then, you don’t have to—”

  But before she can torture me with a mock denial, my fingers dig into the sweet flesh and I attack her mouth with mine. She responds instantly, lips devouring, conquering just as much as they welcome my own. This is my girl. She gives as good as she gets, always, and I fucking love every single bit of her, inside and out.

  I pull away, suddenly overwhelmed by emotion. By the weight of my love for Carl, and the thrill of knowing I own hers in return. I stare down at her, wishing I could articulate what I’m feeling. But eit
her the words don’t exist or I just lack the enlightenment to express them. “I love you, Princess,” I say simply. But she gets each of the million words I’m not saying, because her eyes soften, watering ever so slightly, and I press my lips to each one.

  “I love you too, Tuck.”

  I kiss her forehead, her cheeks, her chin before finding her lips again. I want to kiss her everywhere. I grasp the hem of her tank top and tug it off of her and she lifts her arms to help me. Her bare tits are supple and full beneath me, and the feel of her softness yielding to the firm planes of my chest makes me so hard it’s almost painful. I peel her underwear down her legs, barely lifting my weight enough to get them off.

  Carl’s fingers slip beneath the waistband of my boxer briefs, gripping my ass like she owns it, but she’s trapped underneath me, and she can’t do much more without my allowing it. She snaps the elastic against my skin, but it only makes me push myself against her, and she moans as my dick presses against her center.

  “Tuck…off,” she demands, tugging harder at my underwear, and I obey.

  My erection springs free, swollen steel pointing like a fucking arrow at what it wants. It knows its way home.

  Carl’s legs wrap around me, silently hurrying me along, but as much as I want inside her, she’s going to have to wait. First I want to taste her.

  I’ve only ever gone down on her as foreplay, but right now we’re in no rush, and I’m desperate to make her come on my tongue.

  I brush my lips over the swell of her cleavage and pay extra attention to her perfect tits before continuing down her flat stomach. I dip my tongue into her navel, soaking up the way her body writhes under my attention. When I reach my destination, Carl holds her breath.

  My tongue starts its slow, easy rhythm, and I hear her suck in deep, calming breaths. I smirk against her bare skin, because I’m about to make it impossible to keep calm.

  I swirl my tongue around and around, faster and faster, until I suck her into my mouth. She cries out as I push my tongue inside her. My eyes roll into the back of my head at her taste. There’s fucking nothing like it.

  Her hips start moving with me, and I slide two fingers inside her, working her with my mouth all the while.

  “Tu-ck!” She’s gasping now, her thighs caging my head between them as her hips move mindlessly, and I know she’s close. She says my name again. She’s warning me. Because every other time this is when I would move to fuck her. But this time there’s no parent who might come home, no friend who might be looking for us, no kid brother to worry about—there’s nothing but her, and me, and hours to say with our bodies what I couldn’t quite articulate with words.

  Her climax is sudden and beautiful. I’m caught in the impossible choice of watching and tasting, and I do my best to do both. And only when she’s given me every last drop and I’ve drained every aftershock from her do I lazily kiss my way back up her body.

  I have never been more aroused in my life, and I smile when I realize how often I’ve had that thought with Carl. It’s been nearly a year since we first hooked up, and it’s only gotten better. I could happily spend the rest of my life being with her and only her.

  But one thought nags at me. I know it doesn’t actually matter one way or the other, but I also know I’m going to ask, because apparently I’m some kind of masochist. “Princess…”

  She raises her eyebrows, lids still at half-mast—a look that strokes both my ego and my arousal.

  “Tell me, baby, was I the first guy to put his mouth on you?” From her stunned and anxious reaction those months ago I’m pretty sure I was, but I want to hear it from her.

  Her lips curve into a small smile. “Tucker, you’re the only guy ever to do that.”

  My chest expands with my sharp breath, and I want to beat it like a fucking caveman. That is the best news I’ve heard in my life.

  “And what about this beautiful mouth?” I brush a kiss to her red, swollen lips. “Am I the only man who’s been inside here?”

  Carl’s gaze holds mine with more intensity than I expect, and an uncharacteristic blush steals over her skin, from her cheeks down to her delectable chest. “Tuck,” she breathes in a tone that makes my own breath stop. “You’re the only man who’s ever been in any part of me.”

  I blink at her. Is this some sort of metaphor? Does she mean inside her heart?

  “You’re in my heart, too, baby,” I say softly, suddenly ready to move on from this topic.

  Carl shakes her head. “No, Tuck. I don’t just mean figuratively.”

  The only one to be in any part of her? Literally?

  It hits me like a load of bricks. “You haven’t slept with anyone else?”

  Her head shakes in slow motion. My heart races at warp speed.

  “That morning in my room—”

  “Was my first time,” she confirms.

  My. God.

  I remember thinking how incredibly tight she was—but then, she’s felt just as perfect every time since then, too. I knew she was inexperienced. But how? How could I have had no idea she was a virgin?

  I’m slapped with a spectrum of emotion. Awe. Humility.

  But I’m also angry—perhaps irrationally. Perhaps not. How could she have kept that from me? Not just that morning, but all this time?

  And then I’m back to pride and possession. Carl is mine. She’s so fucking mine. And she’s always been mine.

  But still…why? “Why?”

  Carl’s pretty neck moves with her nervous swallow. “Because I wanted to.” She shrugs. “You’re the only guy I ever really, you know, wanted like that. And you’d been teasing me with your flirting, and I just thought you were messing with me like always. But I wasn’t sure. And if you weren’t, then…I didn’t want to miss out.”

  She didn’t want to miss out. On me. What is this alternate universe I’m living in where Carl is in love with me and where she didn’t want to miss out on fucking me?

  “You’re crazy.” I shake my head at her, incredulous. “But why didn’t you tell me? I didn’t know…I just assumed…” And I feel like an asshole for it now. Why would I just assume she wasn’t a virgin?

  Another shrug. “Honestly, Tuck, I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. And I thought if you knew, then it would be like, a whole thing, and you would back out.”

  Back out of fucking her? Does she not know me at all? “God, Carl, you could have told me you were a serial killer plotting to murder me the second I came and it wouldn’t have deterred me. But I do wish you’d told me, Princess,” I say wistfully.

  Her fingers play with the short hair at my nape. “Why? If it wouldn’t have made a difference either way?” she asks.

  “I didn’t say it wouldn’t have made a difference, just that it wouldn’t have stopped me from being with you, baby.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I brush my lips along her jaw line. “I don’t know. I would have tried to make it more…” More what? “Special, I guess.”

  She lets out a teasing laugh. “With what? Rose petals? Candles?”

  I smirk down at her. “Maybe.” She’s the only girl alive I would consider doing those kinds of things for.

  Her smile fades. “Or maybe you wouldn’t have just left right after?” she says quietly, gaze averted in obvious vulnerability.

  Well, shit. That must have really hurt her. She acted like she didn’t care, but Carl is nothing if not skilled at hiding her true emotions.

  What would I have done differently had I known? I couldn’t not leave right after. God knows I wouldn’t have if I’d had any other choice anyway. But Bits had almost died and Cap needed me. “I still would have left, Carl.”

  I’m still lying half on top of her and I feel her deflate beneath me. I need to explain. But how can I? I promised my best friend I’d keep his sister’s secret. And up until now, I have. But he’s not the only important person in my life. He’s not even my only best friend anymore. I’m staring down at the other one—the one
I’m fucking in love with—and she’s still hurting from something I had to do almost a year ago.

  Can I trust her with this?

  I gently nudge her chin to meet my gaze. “You deserved better, Princess, but I didn’t have a choice.”

  She frowns in confusion.

  “Something happened the night before. I didn’t want to leave you, Carl—I had just slept with my fucking dream girl, I could have died in that bed and done so a happy man.”

  She tries to hide her small smile, but I don’t miss it. “What happened?” she asks.

  I sigh. Here goes. “When I checked my phone that morning I saw texts from Cap. Like, a lot of texts. Beth…she was in the hospital.”

  Carl’s eyes go wide. “Beth? What happened?”

  I swallow anxiously. I know I can trust her. And I know she would never do something to betray that trust. Still, I’ve kept this to myself so long it’s like my mouth is physically opposed to forming the words.

  “She tried to kill herself.” My voice comes out a whisper, and I’m surprised by the emotion choking them. It still hurts to think of Bits like that.

  “God, Tuck,” Carl says simply.

  She must sense how the memory affects me, because she pulls my head to her shoulder in a fierce hug. “Yeah,” I breathe.

  Minutes pass like that, and neither of us pulls away. It feels good. Just being this close to her. Like it’s where I’m supposed to be. Like it’s always been where I was supposed to be. “I wouldn’t have left, Carl. But Cap was freaking out, and Bits—”

  “Shh,” she soothes.

  “He asked me not to say anything to anyone. So I couldn’t even tell you why I had to—”

  “Tuck, it’s okay. I get it.”

  Of course she does. She knows what Cap’s family is to me. How much of a sister Bits is to me, blood or not. And she’s one of the only people who know about my dad, and how close to home the whole thing would’ve hit. I lift my head enough to meet her compassionate gaze. “Still, I’m sorry. You know that, right?”

  She brushes off my apology—like she deems it unwarranted and so she won’t accept it. My lips twist up into a small smile. My stubborn girl.