Her whole body tenses. A stillness seeps into the room. Even the clock she has hanging on the wall ceases to cause noise with its tick. “Are you serious?”
“Deadly.”
“But what about,” she starts but stops just as quick. After a deep breath, she continues. “What about… what if things don’t…work out?”
“That’s not going to happen,” I defend instantly. I knew this was coming. It wouldn’t make sense if she agreed immediately. “I know you’re scared. It’s a scary thing I’m asking because it’s a real commitment. But Cecelia, I didn’t tell you I love you just to sleep with you. As bad as it sounds, that was already happening. So it’s not like I had to work for it or anything.” I’ve tried to live without regret, because my life hasn’t been sunshine and daisies, but things with Cecelia, the way we’ve – I’ve – gone about them, I regret those. “I didn’t tell you I love you just to get you to trust me again. I said it because I mean it. I love you and want to be with you. In every way. I want us to have a life together. A real one. And I want it to be a good life. I thought, moving in together, in a place of our own would be a good start. So, what do you say?”
FOURTEEN
I’m on overtime the whole week leading up to the Fourth. We’re not working the holiday, so my boss wants to get as much done as possible before our three day weekend. I’m not able to see Cecelia as much as I want to because of this. I’m up and out the door before the sun, and by the time I get home, all I want to do is crash. Fucking isn’t even something I think I’m capable of considering how tired I usually feel, and the last thing I want is to give it to Cecelia half-assed.
So I don’t get to see her. We do text a lot, but it’s not the same. This only reiterates in my mind the strong desire for us to cohabitate together. No, it’s not the greatest of reasons, but then again, it’s also not my main one. I’m allowed to feel selfish toward the woman I love. I’m allowed to crave her time and presence. I’m allowed to hate the separation and the fact she has yet to give me an answer.
But whatever.
Celia’s working a lot too. Pulling double shifts to bring in a little more cash while the influx of tourists is high. Independence Day weekend is always a big deal in Chicago. Well, summers in general are, but more so around the Fourth and then again at Labor Day. So she’s working a ton and yeah, I hate not seeing her. Even more because I asked her a pretty big fucking question and she hasn’t answered me back yet. I’m trying not to freak the fuck out over it, but I’ve never been able to read Celia, to understand what is going on in her head.
She’s always been one of those cool chicks. She’s not overly emotional, so when she cries or expresses anger, it’s real and I pay attention. She’s not a manipulator. Thinking back, everything with Hayley, the fact I know these things about Cecelia should have been a big fucking clue, but whatever.
Still. I don’t know what way she’ll lean.
Her lack of answer could mean nothing at all. Or it could very well be a no she’s working through trying to give to me without hurting my feelings too bad. Not that we’re those kinds of people, but still.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“You can ask me anything,” I tell her as my fingers make a pass along her back. I’ve been tracing the broken angel for the past twenty-minutes, noticing she added to it, and that more of the angel’s wings appear tattered. I did that to her. I know I did. She won’t ever say it, won’t ever acknowledge it outright, but this beautiful angel is a lot more broken than she had been a year ago.
“When we met, you’d really never had a girlfriend before?”
It’s such an odd question that I am left speechless by it for a moment. I try to think back to all our time together and wonder how it is we never had this conversation before now. I wonder how messed up we were, how desperate we were to get away and then to just survive that these types of things became secondary.
“I’d really never had a girlfriend before you,” I answer. “I mean there were girls I thought were hot. Girls that I knew I could have if I wanted, but I never did.”
“Why didn’t you ever have them?”
“I suppose since you attended a public school and kept to yourself for the most part, this won’t be something you understand.” I grimace at my remembrance of school, of all of the kids I attended classes with. “In a private school, like the one I went to, though the parents liked to believe little Johnny and Susie were innocent and pure and sweet as the morning sun, the STD and pregnancy rate was actually through the fucking roof.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, it was ridiculous. I mean there was one girl in particular that kept after me but not only did she have a boyfriend, she managed to hook up with most of the guys in our grade. It was pathetic. I was more than happy with the rumors that spread about me to keep me out of any snares.”
“And you really had never kissed anyone either?”
“I came close once,” I tell her and close my eyes to the parts on her back that seem more fragile than the rest. Flame licks up the wings, wanting to finish it off. Again, I don’t know when she got this part added, but it terrifies me to know how recent it has to have been considering before our long talk, it hadn’t been there.
“What happened?”
“Her dad barged in.” I start laughing as I remember the moment I almost had my first kiss. “Leslie Baker. She was in my grade, both freshman. We had a project due for health class and decided to do a little extra credit. She invited me over because both her parents were supposed to be at work till late. Her dad threw the door open as we were leaning in and about had a heart attack.”
“Oh no! What happened?” Cecelia turns around, facing me, her beautiful breasts with her sparkling nipple rings on display.
“He kicked me out. Told me to stay away from his precious baby and that was that.”
She frowns, clearly not believing me. “That’s it?”
I just shrug. “Honestly, I wasn’t really interested in Leslie. She was cute, and apparently willing. But I liked someone else at the time.”
“Who’d you like?”
“It was this senior named Claudia Wright. She was hot. Crazy as hell though, from the talk in the guy’s locker room.”
“You never got your shot with her? With this Claudia?” I can hear the insecurity in her voice and it breaks my heart.
“No. Claudia graduated early, and joined the Peace Corp or something.” I shrug again. “Heard Leslie became friendly with the golf team, and her dad moved her to an all girl’s school.” Cecelia’s mouth pops open making me laugh again. “To tell you the truth, the girls I went to school with all had their own issues. They all partied too hard, were too bored, and enjoyed being cruel to each other because they saw their parent’s be that way. Any one of them that could have been nice couldn’t let that show otherwise they’d have been chewed up.
“I’m not sure how it started, but somehow people started hearing things about me, about my personal life.” I run a finger along the swell of her breast, watching the skin pebble. “After a while, everyone believed I had an older girlfriend and was some kind of sex fiend even though the only relationship I’d had was with Rosie and her twin.” I hold up my hands to show her what I mean. It makes her laugh.
“What about you? You never had an interest in anyone, or any admirers?”
She shakes her head causing her hair to fall across her chest. “Definitely not. I never went anywhere other than school and home in Dallas. And Houston…well, I wasn’t there long enough to even meet anyone.”
I pull her to me and try to keep my sadness from showing. She had such a messed up childhood, it’s really rather remarkable she isn’t completely screwed up.
“Can I ask you another question?” Her voice is small, her words spoken against my chest. I hum in affirmative and she speaks again. “After…after everything with Hayley, did you…were you…with anyone…else?”
I pull back to look at her face. Her
normally tanned skin is pale and her eyes are wide. It breaks my fucking heart to think I was with anyone other than Cecelia. She was – is – my everything. My best friend. My sidekick. My partner in crime. The only girl I have ever wanted to be with. I will always live with the regret of being with someone else for as long as my soul exists. Because no matter what, that is a betrayal I can’t forgive.
Brushing stray hairs back off her forehead, I smile softly at her. “No.” Her eyes snap to mine, widening further and it would be comical if not for the subject. “And to be honest, everything with Hayley, fuck. It was one time. One fuck, at least. I was angry after seeing you with Frankie and I pulled her into the bathroom and it was angry and quick and so unsatisfying that even for a blowjob, I had to fantasize about other shit just to get hard.”
She nods her head, her face falling. This is not something she wants to know about. Me, with another woman. Even though she has been with other guys, and a girl, which bothers me too, but it really all boils down to how I allowed the ground to slip out from under us.
I should have never even been with Hayley once. But I was a fool. A damned fool.
“After…well after, I spent so much time searching for you and worrying about you, I didn’t have time to even think about anyone else. Not that I wanted too to begin with. It’s really has always been you.” I lower my head so I can find her eyes. “What about you?”
Though I know about some, I can’t help but wonder if there were more than just the guys – and girl – she’d told me about.
“No. No one else.” She releases a deep sigh. “Frankie was bitterness. Andrew was, well, there. I didn’t want to keep hearing about you with Hayley, and she’d befriended enough of those bimbos that they found ways into Coco to tell me all about it.” Her face is full of disgust. “Of course I realize now they were playing up Hayley’s importance to you, but at the time, I’d seen you with her, so I figured they may hate me, but how wrong could they really be?”
“So wrong. So fucking wrong, baby. You are it for me, Cecelia. I swear it.”
“So I was with him. And then Rina.” Her shoulders sag. “I felt empty. More than empty. And I was scared of what I’d try so I let Mel force me crash with her. She kept me sober, even if she doesn’t realize it. And other than that moment with her ex, she’s actually quite boring of a person. Which was good for me at the time. We never went out, not really. So I never thought about hooking up.”
“Not even with the guys that come into Coco?” It’s a bitter subject, one that led to our demise before, but I won’t let that happen again. For one, my tone isn’t accusatory like it was once upon a time.
“No,” she tells me quietly. “I pushed autopilot to work. I went in, served drinks, played up my role, and left.”
Pulling her to me, I wrap my arms tight around her.
“We both made some really bad choices.”
“We did.”
“No more secrets from now on. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
She snuggles into my body, burrowing her head under my chin as her hand finds my semi-erect cock, teasing the bar through the head. For some reason, it’s like a security blanket to Cecelia. Holding onto it, to me as she falls asleep. It’s a little odd, but who am I to complain? A beautiful woman, my beautiful woman is holding my dick.
Nothing much better than that as you’re entering slumber.
Closing my eyes, inhaling the sweet scent of Cecelia and that of our love-making, I drift into a dreamy sleep filled with images of bodies writhing, reverberating moans, and sensuous touches. It all feels familiar, palpable. But I can’t place it. And just like every other time I’ve dreamed a dream like this, all I can do is allow my subconscious to enjoy and hope my waking self can find a way to remember it.
FIFTEEN
“You can’t take these guys on like this.”
“Why do you say that?”
I’ve been on the phone with Marshall for almost an hour. Honestly, he talks more than anyone I’ve ever met. In some ways I think it’s a nervous tic he has. He talks because he can’t help it. Then again, I think it’s a ploy. Especially since I remember rehab. To get me to talk, Marshall talked nonstop until I couldn’t take it anymore. In the end, to shut him up, I gave some information about my personal life that I probably wouldn’t have otherwise.
Anytime there was anything he wanted to know, Marshall rambled until I spoke just to silence him. He’s kind of an asshole in that way.
Now, he’s been talking to me nonstop about whether or not I think it’s possible for me to take on Brutal, Fife and James all in one night. “I mean, you do realize I fight four matches in a night as it is, right?”
“This is different.”
“How so? While not entirely likely, I could very well have my name drawn against each guy on a Friday.” Marshall is quiet on the other end of the line and I check to make sure I didn’t lose connection.
“Yeah, you’re right. I guess I just don’t understand the whole aspect of these fights.”
“Look, I get it. This is not an ideal situation. While it’s true I took out Brutal in no time at all and Cecelia was able to lay flat Fife, they will be gunning for me. Or at the very least, trying to. They’re out for blood. Their pride needs the win more than anything. And that fucker James is trying to prove a point to those who ignored him the last time.” I shake my head even though Marshall can’t see me. “I know this won’t be an easy no-sweat fight. I know that. I appreciate your worry about me and all but, this is what I do. This is who I am. This life, it’s the one I live.”
“It’s crazy, is what it is.”
“I know that,” I laugh humorously.
“I’m just thinking, the life you had before we ever met, on the outside? Shit. It looked golden. Preppy boy coming from money. Lifestyles of the rich and shameless,” Marshall quips with a deep laugh. But I can hear the sadness in it too. “It’s stupid to think that if we’d met outside of Trinity, I might have thought of you as a spoiled rich white boy. But knowing you, knowing where you came from? And now this?”
“Yeah, I don’t fit the stereotype very well, do I?” We both laugh. Because I know how I looked when Marshall met me. I was the stereotype. Except for the part about being spoiled. Or rich, really. Since none of that money has ever or will ever be mine. But outward appearances are a funny thing.
“Not really,” Marshall agrees. “You’re covered in tattoos now. You got piercings in your lip. And the fighting? Nothing preppy or rich about you. If you were going for intimidating, you’ve achieved it.”
I take his words as a compliment. My ink, the marks on my skin, they are like armor. And the image of myself and Cecelia, my guiding light.“Well, at least you’re not trying to call me a poser.”
“You’d probably try to kick my ass if I did.”
“Nah, I’d leave that up to Cecelia,” I joke and Marshall’s laugh fills the speaker of the phone. “But seriously. I appreciate your concern. It’s not the greatest of situations. These guys are assholes who have a beat down coming to them, to be honest. And I won’t lose.”
“And you know that for certain?”
“Of course I do.” I can’t help the smile that lights up my face as the front door opens. “I’ve got the greatest thing in the world in my corner. No way I can lose with her backing me.”
“And now I’ve lost you,” I hear Marshall laugh through my phone’s speaker. “I take it Cecelia is there now.” He sighs heavily and I focus a bit back on our conversation. Marshall had left the day after the Fourth of July celebration. He’s set to be married August First in a nice little country club wedding that Cecelia and I are invited to, last minute, but turn down. For one, we have yet to meet his bride-to-be and don’t think it’d be right essentially crashing the wedding. And second, even if we had something nice to wear to a wedding – which we don’t – the ceremony is taking place in Houston.
Neither Cecelia nor I has any desire to return to that city.
“I feel like a bitch for worrying. But I saw how those guys acted. You don’t think they’ll try going for you at the same time?”
It’s something I have considered. Fife and Brutal are assholes. I don’t know James all that well, but he seems like the follower type. I mean he challenged me because I beat him and he thinks he should have won. After shit-talking me the week before, to be beaten by me defeated his ego a bit. And the guys ragged on him for it. So I think if given the opportunity, he would take advantage of a situation.
Fortunately though, I do know, regardless of how everyone else feels about me, they won’t let anyone jack up what we’ve got going. If I’m ambushed, who knows what could happen. And after everything with Hayley, no one wants to be responsible for shit hitting the fan.
Again.
“I think everyone will toe the line. They may not want to, but after what happened before, fucking up because of pride or rage won’t fix anything.”
“If you say so, man.”
“If it’s make you feel better, I’ll send you a text once the night is over.”
“I would appreciate that, dear. I need to keep track of all my dicks.”
“You are such a pussy.” I’m laughing and hear Marshall join in. I appreciate his concern. I really do. He took me under his wing in rehab. He let me talk. He let me be myself. He’s kind of like a big brother to me. True we don’t have the same skin color or background, but he was there for me. And now. He’s there for me now. But he still makes me feel like we should be braiding each other’s hair something here. “Don’t worry about me, okay?”
And the Sweet (Addiction Series Book 2) Page 13