by T. N. Cole
I turned to watch Kate as she sat quietly. My mouth curled into a smile as I remembered the first time we were here. Now, I was more enthralled with her than I ever thought possible. She was so beautiful. The weight of my stare was finally too much for her, and she turned her head to meet my eyes. “Are you stalling now? You were so bold earlier—carrying me down the street like a freaking caveman. And now what?” she teased lightly.
“If you weren’t so stubborn, then I wouldn’t have had to do that,” I retorted. She rolled her eyes, and I opened my door. “Let me get your door,” I said before climbing out of the car.
I walked around the car to help Kate out of the car. “I’m perfectly capable of getting out of a car,” she remarked playfully.
I moved forward until my body had her trapped against the car, leaving her no choice but to tip her head up to look into my eyes. “Oh, I know that you’re capable of a lot of things. But do you know what I’m capable of?” I murmured as I tucked her hair behind her ear.
Her pupils dilated and she shivered. I smiled, knowing it was because of me. “It’s cold,” I said backing away abruptly. Kate narrowed her eyes at me as she caught on that I was playing with her. “Come on.” I took her hand and led her to the trunk of the car.
“I think Caisey stashed some blankets back here from the soccer games,” I explained as I opened the back. “If not, then I have some in the house.” I grabbed two red and black ones and quickly shut the trunk. I flung one over Kate’s shoulders and inhaled deeply. I was a little scared. I expected Mel to comment in my head about me being a pussy, but she was eerily silent. I forced myself not to think about it as I wrapped an arm around Kate and led her around the house to the backyard where we had a perfect view of the lake.
It actually was chilly tonight—Texas was finally getting cold. I chose a spot and sat down on the grass. I led Kate to sit sideways between my legs so that she could easily turn to face me. She stretched both her legs over my right thigh and I tucked the other blanket around her. Kate frowned and rearranged the blanket that was around her shoulders so that it covered us both. I smiled a little as she squirmed to huddle closer to me. I hugged her as she tucked her head under my chin and settled against my chest. Her hand rested against my heart and I knew she could feel it pounding—from both fear and desire.
“It’s okay, Tristan,” she reassured me. “Just tell me what’s on your mind.”
I exhaled forcefully and rushed out, “I killed my best friend when I was seventeen years old.”
Kate stiffened against me, then she leaned away. She grabbed my chin so that she could search my face. “How,” she whispered.
I took her hand and held it to the side of my face as I closed my eyes. “We got in a…fight. I let her walk away, and she got hit by a car.”
She relaxed slightly. “I think you need to start from the beginning.”
So, I did. I told her how Chloe died when I was nine years old. I was supposed to be the one who went with my dad to get ice cream, but instead, I had thrown a fit and my dad had taken Chloe. It should have been me who was killed in the accident—not my sister. That was my fault, too. Which meant it was my fault that my family fell apart. I told her how my dad left and how my mom resorted to alcohol immediately after.
Then, I told her how Mel had forced herself even more into my life after my mom had checked out. She already lived across the street from me, and we had been inseparable since we were five years old. Mel didn’t let my mom or her mom stop her from comforting me every chance she got. She refused to leave my side.
And I told her how we eventually grew up and our teenage years were complicated. She watched as I flirted and hooked up with whomever I felt like. In retaliation, she would parade guys in front of me, causing me to feel protective. I only acted that way because no one would be good enough for her. Not me, not anyone. She took my reactions as a sign of jealousy—when I was acting more like a big brother—and she fell more in love with me. I didn’t think she actually loved me in that way because I didn’t think anyone ever could.
Finally, I told her how I pushed Mel away. How I could have prevented all of this from happening if I had just stopped playing our games. The car would never have hit her. She wouldn’t have died. If it weren’t for me, then Mel would still be alive.
The whole time I told my story, Kate kept her eyes on me. There were parts of the story where she looked surprised, but most of what I saw on her face was sadness. All kinds of sadness—pity, empathy, fear, anger, and agony. The tears were steadily streaming down her face as I finished recounting my past.
“Tristan,” Kate cried. She threw her arms around my neck, and I froze in uncertainty. I slowly raised my arms and hugged her back. She was shaking with the force of her sobs.
“Kate. Kate, shhh. It’s okay, babe. Please, stop crying.” I rubbed her back and kissed the side of her head. I didn’t know what to do.
She took deep, shuddering breaths as she buried her face in my neck and tried to calm herself. “I’m sorry. I can’t believe I’m reacting like this, but Tristan…” she managed to get out between gasps of air.
I cupped her face in my hands and peered into her eyes. “Kate. I’m okay. Stop crying, babe. It’s killing me. Stop crying. Please?”
She covered my hands with hers and nodded. I gave her a few moments to collect herself as I watched. Even crying her eyes out, I thought she looked adorable. Wait—adorable? I just bared my soul to this girl, and I was thinking about how adorable she was? Why was I not freaking out? I hadn’t told anyone this, not even the many therapists my mom had made me see. And why was she still here? She should be running from me.
Eventually, her breathing evened out. She opened her eyes, and when they met mine, I was stunned when my heart surged in reaction. I didn’t know what to do with the strong emotions that she was causing.
“Tristan,” she said. “None of that was your fault. All this time, you’ve really been carrying this weight around?”
I was stunned. “Did you not hear anything I just said?” I asked in bewilderment.
“I heard everything you just said. And it all adds up now. But, Tristan, you were just a kid. It’s not your fault that Chloe died, or that your dad left, or that your mom left you to your own devices when you were so young. And you didn’t kill Mel. It wasn’t your fault.”
I recoiled in shock. “Kate. You don’t understand.” I grimaced.
“I do.” She grabbed my hands in both of hers. “Remember how I mentioned I had a best friend who died, too?”
I stilled. I had completely forgotten about him. She went on, “He died because of me, too. Because I was being stupid and ran out in the street.” She sniffed. “I don’t remember what happened right before—like why I had done that. And I actually don’t remember him at all. I hit my head on the concrete and passed out. Doctors say I either can’t remember because of the head injury or because it’s too painful. I think we got in some kind of fight? I know he was there. I have memories of him, but I don’t remember him. He’s faceless in all my memories. There are holes where he’s concerned.” Her voice was breaking. “And right after the accident, I was taken away. No one would tell me about him. I have no idea who he is. And honestly, I’m too scared to look him up and find out anything about him.”
I was speechless at the similarities in our stories… They were just too much to comprehend. And how could she not remember him? Mel died. I saw her casket. I was beyond a shadow of a doubt positive that Kate and Mel were not the same person. Or was I?
I couldn’t think about it. Instead, I decided to live in the moment. I pulled Kate against my chest and buried my face in her hair. Her body was still shaking as she curled into me—whether it was from my story or hers, I wasn’t sure. But I was going to do my best to make it all better for her. Because she was doing the same for me in so many ways. Ways I hadn’t even begun to realize yet. And I was going to let her.
“Tristan?” she said after some moments of
reflective silence.
“Hmm?”
“Thanks for telling me your story. I know it must have been hard. It was even tough to listen to. You’ve been through so much.”
“It wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. But I think that’s because of you.”
“What do you mean?”
I hesitated, not knowing if I could form an explanation with words. “You make everything better,” I whispered.
She wiggled out of my embrace and beamed at me. I couldn’t help but want to kiss her when her eyes shone at me like that. But she beat me to it. Smiling, she softly pressed her lips against mine, and I deepened the kiss by holding her in place with one hand on her neck. When our tongues tangled together, I couldn’t help but think of how addicted I was becoming to kissing her. Kissing her, touching her, talking to her—I was getting too used to all those things. But it was too late to go back now.
She shifted, freeing herself from one of the blankets, to move her legs to either side of my hips so that she was straddling me. I wasn’t worried about her getting cold at this point; I knew she was getting just as hot as I was. She grinded down on my already straining cock, and I broke the kiss groaning. Kate grinned mischievously at me as we both fought for breath.
“Babe, if that’s the way you want things to go, then we’re going inside. So I can worship your body the way it needs to be.” I moved my hands from where they were cradling her face down to stop her squirming hips. I leaned my forehead against hers and grinned when she pouted. Eventually, she nodded her head, and jumped off my lap.
She held both her hands out to me, and I took them to get up. She playfully gave me an extra tug so that when I straightened we were standing chest to chest. I laughed and gave her the quick kiss that she wanted before I grabbed the blankets off the ground and dragged her toward the house. She giggled at my urgency but skipped to keep up with me.
“I FEEL BAD THAT I left the dinner like that,” Kate told me when we stepped inside the house.
I grinned. “My mom loves you already. And she was only upset at how I was acting when you left.”
She still looked unsure, so I pulled her into her arms and tenderly kissed one side of her mouth, then the other, before covering her mouth with mine. She relaxed against me and looped her arms around my neck. I bent down and scooped her up in my arms so I could move us to the bedroom. Except, after one step, I almost slipped. My phone started vibrating incessantly. Who would be calling me at this time? “Tristan, what—” she trailed off when I reached to fish my phone out of my pocket. I had missed a call from a private number. I realized they had also sent three messages
Our eyes met and she slowly got down from my hold. I was frozen, unsure of what to do. Kate unlocked my phone. My eyes were focused on her hands hovering over the message icon, while hers watched my reaction.
She tapped her thumb and before she could open the texts, my hand shot out to still hers. My eyes looked at her pleadingly—asking for what, I wasn’t sure. But she seemed to understand what I needed. She stepped close to me so that our chests were touching. Kate pressed up on her tiptoes so she could brush her lips against mine. “It’s okay,” she assured me before she tapped the screen.
Kate slowly sifted through the three messages. There was a picture from earlier tonight when I picked Kate up. I was looking adoringly at a laughing Kate as I had helped her into the car. Then there was a picture of another newspaper clipping of the accident, with the headline, “Tristan Westdyke, 17, pushes Melanie Jessup, 17, in front of car?” The last blow was a text:
Does your Katelyn know that you’re a murderer, Tristan?
I took a step back from Kate, and I couldn’t look her in the eye. “Tristan…” Kate tried to step toward me. I shook my head, wordlessly telling her not to come closer, and backed up until I was against the wall in the hallway. That article wasn’t one of the ones published five years ago. Now someone was fabricating articles about the accident just to torture me?
I hadn’t realized that I had slid to the floor until Kate touched my arm. I opened my eyes and rolled my head sideways to look at her. She was kneeling on the ground next to me and her eyes shone with worry. “You’re not a murderer, Tristan,” she softly told me. I let her wrap her arms around me; I let her hold me in silence.
I was so fucking tired of all this. The guilt, the notes, the past. I just wanted to forget. I untangled myself from Kate and I stood. I held my hand out to her so I could help her up. Once we were inside the bedroom, I crushed my mouth to hers. She made a small noise of surprise before she responded with equal passion. My hands were restless. They moved from her face, to her hair, to her hips, and back up again. They made the journey several times, as we continued to kiss feverishly. Finally, I found the zipper to her dress on her left side. I pulled away and our eyes locked as I slowly pulled the zipper down.
She didn’t stop me. When I had finished unzipping the dress, she dropped her arms from where they were on my shoulders so the dress could slip off. She stood in her gold heels and a set of pale pink, lacy underwear that matched her dress. I couldn’t do anything but stare; my eyes would never get enough of her. She stood there unwaveringly with an almost shy smile on her face as she let me have my fill. I was almost afraid to touch her. Almost. My need to touch her overrode any other reservation I may have had.
She stepped back toward me so she could push my jacket off. I gripped her hips to steady myself. We slowly began to kiss again as she unbuttoned my dress shirt. “You’re entirely too overdressed,” she whispered as my shirt joined my jacket on the floor. I expected her to unbuckle my belt and take my pants off next. Instead, she palmed my cock through my pants. I hissed and the kiss turned frantic. Kate continued to rub and stroke my cock outside my pants until I couldn’t take it anymore.
In one quick move, I turned and pushed her toward the bed. “Scoot up the bed,” I ground out, and she obeyed. I stripped off my pants and shoes as she watched me with a hungry look on her face. I crawled up the bed to meet her.
“Do you want my shoes off?” she asked breathlessly when I fit myself against her.
I shook my head. “Not yet,” I murmured as I rubbed my hardness against her center. She made a groan of approval and threw her head back. “Kate.” I wanted her eyes on me. Her eyes flew open and when they met mine, I took her mouth again. I could feel her wetness through her underwear, soaking my boxer briefs and my cock. I propped myself up on one elbow, and with my hand in her hair, the other hand swept down to her breasts. I pinched her left nipple through her bra then rolled it between my thumb and forefinger to harden it further.
Kate arched her back into me. “Tristan,” she begged. In response, I unclasped her bra and took her right nipple into my mouth. I used my hand to play with her other breast so that they were getting equal attention. Kate wrapped her legs around my waist and rubbed her pussy against my abs, spreading her wetness on me through her flimsy excuse for underwear. She held on to my head as she moaned my name. At this point, I was rubbing my cock against the bed for relief.
“You’re gorgeous, Kate. So beautiful,” I told her when I moved back up to her mouth. Her hands roamed up and down my chest, my abs, and my back as our tongues twisted together. Finally, I had to touch her. I needed more. I traced a finger up her slit through the fabric, and she let out a strangled noise. I grinned and moved my fingers inside her underwear. She was panting as we watched each other’s reactions. She tilted her head back and I added another finger. She started riding my hand when I began to thrust my fingers slowly in and out of her slick channel.
Finally, it was too much for me, and I moved so I could take her underwear off completely. She looked at me with hooded eyes when she felt me staring at her, taking in the beauty of her naked body. Her eyes widened as I bent between her legs. “Tristan, I’ve never… I mean no one has ever…”
No fucking way. There was no fucking way. “Say it, Kate.”
“No one’s ever put their mouth on
my pussy before,” she finished in a small voice.
I growled, and without warning, I buried my face in her center. She screamed and bucked her hips against my face. I threw her legs over my shoulders and I used one hand to keep her torso on the bed as I lapped at her. I fought to keep myself from coming. She was already fucking amazing and knowing that I was the only guy to ever do this to her only turned me on even more.
I licked up and down her slit and thrust my tongue inside her. She was moaning incoherently as she thrashed on the bed. She pulled at my hair when I started flicking her clit with my tongue and pushed one finger inside of her. “Tristan,” she wailed.
“Come on, baby. Let go,” I managed to get out. I added another finger inside her and I sucked her clit hard. She screamed and her legs tightened against my head. I continued to lick at her as I felt her pulse around me.
“Holy shit,” she breathed when she came down from her orgasm. She toed off her shoes as I grinned and snuck back up to kiss her.
“Good?” I asked smugly.
She rolled her eyes at my arrogance and smiled slyly. “It was okay, I guess.”
“You use words like ‘good’ and ‘okay’ a lot, and I’m really just not a fan of them,” I mused.
“Too bad. Because I think it fits you,” she said playfully.
“Oh, really?” I began tickling her sides. She shrieked and laughed as she tried to push my hands away.
“Tristan, stop!” She giggled. She writhed against me and stilled when I groaned. I was still hard. She met my eyes, and I could see her excitement. She pushed me off her and moved to pull down my boxer briefs. Her eyes widened when she took in the sight of my hard cock.