Letting You In

by Nora Flite

  “Right, right.” Watching her brief flicker of unease, I made myself smile as reassuringly as I could. “I'm not going anywhere, I'll be here all day, at your beck and call.”

  That seemed to relax her, she slid her phone away, glanced around the apartment. “I'm counting on you, Leah. I'm really glad you're helping me, I'm actually super nervous about this whole show. I have an appointment with Greg for a massage in a few hours, he said he'd calm me down.”

  “Until then,” I said, standing, cracking my back. “Want to show me the plans for this whole big event?”

  Grabbing me by the shoulders, she leaned down and almost touched my nose with her own. “Did you even have to ask?”

  Chapter 16.

  Stretched out on the couch, I studied the cracks in the ceiling with the most interest I could manage. It was all I could do, my mind wanted to wander, and with Vanessa out getting her massage, I had only myself to distract my roiling thoughts.

  We'd spent hours going over her designs, her layout, the worries and paranoia she had over what would happen if a model made a mistake.

  It was exactly what I needed.

  However, after a quick lunch in which I hardly ate anything, she'd run off to meet with Greg, leaving me to my own devices. With nothing to work on, no real way to stay busy, I had ended up lying down, practicing not blinking. Whenever I closed my lids, I saw that handsome, uneasy face.

  It's seven now, she'll probably be back by eight, then we can pack things up and I'll have something to keep me distracted.

  In my purse, my phone vibrated. The sound was distant, but with nothing else but the noise of my thoughts, I heard it clearly. Hmn, probably Vanessa. Rolling on my side, I dug into the bag on the floor, pulling my cell into the light.

  Deacon?

  His message was short, it set my heart thumping, belly convulsing.

  'Can we talk?'

  Staring, I felt my hand trembling, a rush of fear and excitement hitting me hard. What do I say? Do I want to talk to him yet? Biting my lower lip, I attempted to type several replies, erasing each one. Finally, I sat up, hunching over my phone, focusing intensely. My eventual reply was blunt.

  'Yes.'

  It was the truth. As terrified as I was of everything, my gut desired a chance at hearing what he had to say. Fighting the urge to change into something nicer, I threw on my sweater, leaving it unzipped over the band shirt. My messy hair was tossed into a ponytail, pale skin free of makeup.

  Let him see me as I am. Drained, frustrated, and done trying to be someone I'm not, especially if it means he gives up on me in the end after all my attempts.

  Standing, I grabbed a piece of paper, scribbling a quick note to leave behind for Vanessa on the table. I don't want to text her, she's probably enjoying that massage right now. Plus, I'll probably be back before she is, then I can just chuck this before she sees it.

  It couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes, the knock on the door came before I was prepared. No, I realized, even if I had an entire day, I wouldn't be ready for this.

  Turning the knob, I found Deacon standing outside, his hands deep in the pockets of the jacket I had returned. “Want to go for a walk?” He asked, his tone neutral.

  “Alright.”

  He stepped back as I moved through the doorway, giving me a wide berth. Closing the door, I left it unlocked, expecting to come back soon enough. “Where do you want to go?” I said, glancing at him, noticing how much trouble he was having looking at me.

  “Just around,” he shrugged, leading the way down the walk. The day hadn't faded yet, but the orange of the sun was melting into plum, the early fall night wanting to claim control. Side by side, we strolled across the sidewalk, leaves skidding on the ground by our feet.

  Neither of us seemed willing to speak, though I was sure we each had things we wished to say. I knew I did, and as the silence became too much, I stopped on the quiet street, standing near a tree that had torn up a section of the hunched sidewalk. “Deacon,” I began, my courage waning the moment he, too, stopped walking. His eyes fell on me, curious, but not surprised. He expected me to speak first, I realized. “You said you wanted to talk,” I went on, my frustration rippling under the surface. “So stop this, and talk to me.”

  His hands, still hidden in his jacket, seemed to tug it tightly down to his sides. “What do you want me to talk about?”

  “Tell me—tell me what I did wrong!” I knew it then, I knew I couldn't keep my anger at bay. His face reflected my own shock, yet I couldn't stop, not after that. “Talk to me, tell me how I messed up! Why don't you like me, why do you keep tricking me into thinking you do, only to then do stuff like... like this morning,” I said, fists twitching by my hips.

  “What did I do this morning?” He asked gently, emotionless.

  “You know!” My shout echoed down the street, it made him wince. I no longer cared, I'd let this burn in me far too long. “You know what you did, don't act like you don't! You told me you wanted to back off, that last night was a mistake!”

  Deacon was quiet, watching me with wide eyes, his body as still as the tree beside us. “That's what you thought I said, that it was a mistake? Leah, no, that wasn't... I mean, yes, how it all happened last night wasn't--”

  “Wasn't how a 'good' person should act!” I spat, cutting him off. “You're not like that, you said. Right? You're better than me, you think I'm garbage for sleeping with you so soon!” The pressure behind my skull pounded, heat prickling my scalp as I fought back tears. “I'm no good for you, that's true, isn't it? I'm not some sweet, innocent blonde choir girl!”

  At that, Deacon gawked, his mouth falling open. Inside, I felt a flicker of guilty joy. I'm hurting you the way you hurt me, aren't I?

  “Who told you about Bethany?”

  “Vanessa did,” I scowled. “But it doesn't matter, the point is, I know the type of girl you're into.”

  “You don't know anything about that, or me,” he said, chill, disturbingly calm.

  “No!” My face burned, salty water finally starting to pool at the corners of my eyes. “You don't know anything about me!”

  “Because you refuse to tell me anything!” His shout startled me, green eyes flashing gold while his hands flew from his pockets. “Not once, you keep hiding everything about yourself hidden! Why? Why do you need to be such a mystery, Leah?”

  Shaking my head rapidly, my hair whipped on my neck, nails digging into scabbed palms. “I'm not—I'm just trying to... You wouldn't...”

  “What?” He stepped forward, running his hands over his head. “What do you think is such a big deal?”

  Looking into his face, the hard shape of his mouth, the way his brows were furrowing so deep, I hesitated. He wants to know, okay, why does it even matter anymore? This is already such a ruined mess.

  “Fine. You want to know what I've been trying to keep from you? I'll just tell you, it doesn't... who cares, what difference does it make now?” My laugh was jaded, empty, warm tears soaking my cheeks. “My whole stupid life is a big deal. You talk about education, and family, and all these values of yours...”

  “Leah,” he said softly, but I shook my head, looking away.

  “No, let me finish. You wanted to know.” I watched his hands fall weakly to his sides. “Your biggest problem is your dad wanted you to be a doctor. How terrible for you. I spent my childhood picking up burning cigarettes my father would drop when he fell asleep, drunk and oblivious. I kept our house from going up in flames, killing me and my sister and my parents, so many times!”

  My smile was pained, I pressed on through my blurry vision. “We had no money, we were the family people kept their kids from going near. My parents, they just... they abandoned me. I did stupid things, to cope, to live! I struggled so hard, and yes, it's left a mark on me,” I mumbled sourly. “Deacon, when I met you, I knew right away,” I said, wiping at my face, stuffed up and congested from crying. “I knew you were too good for me. My last boyfriend, he did—I let h
im...” No, not that, I can't tell him about that. Let me keep that one regret to myself, that one part of my messed up history, give me that one dignity.

  Tossing back my head, I inhaled deeply, trying to get a grip on my roller coaster of feelings. “I'm a weak, stupid girl who fails at everything! I didn't even finish college, I lied to you about that! And I didn't get the job at Pale Blue, either. I never get anything, or anywhere, I just fail.” Closing my eyes tightly, I took a moment to breathe, the explosive nature of baring this to him leaving me feeling strangely relieved.

  Now it's over, I don't need to wonder anymore if he'll give me a chance. I have my answer.

  Opening my eyes, I lowered my chin and looked at him, ready for him to yell at me, to tell me how disappointed he was, to say anything that would make it clear what I already knew; we were finished.

  Pushing me against the tree, Deacon held my wet face, kissing me with fervor. What? I thought, too shocked to respond, my body going limp. His arms coiled around, embracing me to keep me from falling onto the cracked cement. His mouth was warm, full of need, a passion I never imagined.

  He broke free, thumbs rubbing the tears from the corners of my eyes, his own green orbs fixed on me, unblinking in the fading day. “Why?” I blurted, hushed and raw. “Why are you doing this to me?”

  “You never let me finish,” he whispered, lips touching one temple, then the other, his voice low in my ear. “I never thought I made a mistake. I had only wanted the moment to be more perfect than what we had last night.”

  The knowledge that he had wished for more for us, it made me shiver, grateful he was holding me against the rough bark of the tree. “You don't... you don't regret it? You don't think I'm a broken, stupid person?”

  “Of course not,” he chuckled, nuzzling my neck, his heart thumping against mine through our clothing. “Well, maybe a little naive, for thinking you had to hide so much of yourself from me. You're wonderful, Leah, beautiful and talented and hardly more broken than myself or anyone else.”

  “Then why,” I sobbed, giving in to the twist of events, my joy so sharp it caused my ribs to swell. “Why did you want to back off, to slow down?”

  His palms were creamy on my neck, those clever lips wrapping mine up in another brief kiss. His forehead rested on mine, I could see the slight frown of his mouth and nothing more. “You shouldn't have had to hear about Bethany from someone else. I thought... I imagined I would tell you, eventually. It's true, you and her are nothing alike.”

  That information hurt, my mind still comparing this unknown woman as the perfect ideal, matched for the man I was falling for, better than me in every way. “But,” he mumbled, “there is something waiting in the wings, that reminds me of the relationship I had with her. That scares me, honestly, because I couldn't do that all over again. I had wanted to take my time with you, not get too close, in case...”

  Deacon was quiet, too long for my taste. Lifting my hands, remembering I had arms, I cradled his hard jaw, making him look at me. “In case?”

  Grimacing, he licked his lips before he spoke, my desire to kiss him again almost winning over my need for what he had to say. “In case you weren't going to stay out here. Bethany couldn't handle the long distance, it was probably the final nail that ruined us both. I was starting to care for you too much, too quick. If you were going to leave, I wanted to be ready to let this all go. But last night, when you showed me the painting you had done for me,” he laughed, embarrassed. “I guess it just caught me off guard, I wasn't ready to see what you were capable of. It made me—it made me want you, right then,” he said, looking straight into my wide gaze.

  He wanted me last night. It wasn't an accident.

  Bursting with delight, my arms gripped him as if he might vanish any second. There, under the leaves of a tree on the side of the road, the sound of cars in the distance, the breeze of October's final days skimming our necks, I brought my lips to his and kissed him without another worry.

  I felt my fingers slide down his back, over the jacket. Wanting more of him, I tucked them to his waist, crawling up, under the material until I was inside the warmth of it, touching his skin. Deacon rumbled a sigh of appreciation, mouth slipping free to breathe along my neck. My heart was gunfire in my chest, hitting me, warning me of what I was doing. “Can we—should we go somewhere?”

  “Do you want to?” He asked, teasing, knowing the answer. His canines grazed my jaw, tugged my lower lip, eliciting a sharp groan.

  “We can't go to Vanessa's,” I whined, trying to think clearly, my brain floating in a giant ball of cotton.

  Briefly, his palms found my hips, squeezing. It thrilled me, yet then he stepped back, causing me to pout from being deprived of his closeness. “Come on,” he said, delighting me with the widest, most wicked of grins. “I drove my car over, it's parked nearby.”

  Chapter 17.

  The windows were opaque, steam protecting us in our little private world. However long we had been kissing, it was a mystery, one I didn't care to solve.

  Deacon tasted sweet, his body warming mine to the point of sweating in the back seat of his car. It made me feel like a teenager, giddy and exhilarated as we hid from our parents. In the dimness, my hands tugged his jacket away, yanked at his shirt to reveal his stomach.

  “Slow down,” he chuckled, contradicting himself by helping me strip the clothing away. Even in such weak light, his chest looked fantastic, my fingers desperate to feel across his muscles. Carefully, he toyed with the bottom of my shirt, my sweater already discarded, forgotten somewhere in the car.

  This is perfect, I'm scared I'll find out it isn't really happening, that I've gone insane.

  As if confirming he existed, I traced the shape of his shoulders, drawing him down to feel how naturally my lips fit in the crook of his neck. Unable to focus, the moment he curled a hand on the nape of my neck, my body trembled with a rush of desire.

  “You really like the Killer Sons, don't you?” He murmured, curling the faded cloth up higher, staring at my flesh.

  “I... yeah, I do, a lot,” I admitted, peeking into his heated eyes.

  “Do you want to keep it on, then?” He asked, charming even when he was heeded by euphoria.

  In answer, I reached down, sliding the shirt over my head, my long hair tumbling over my chest. He had no argument against my eagerness, his arms rested on either side of my waist, his firm body crushing me deliciously down in the seat.

  Something sharp rubbed against me, exploration finding that it was his belt buckle. Blindly, I worked at unhooking it, guiding it away quickly. “You're good at that,” he mused, lifting an eyebrow, turning my cheeks red. Deacon took over, his jeans sliding down smoothly.

  Hot as a fever, he sought out my lips again, tongue massaging the roof of my mouth. Kissing him was divine, if I hadn't needed oxygen, I'd have done it for hours straight. Instead, I gasped, grinding my hips against him, panting like an animal. I didn't care, my confidence was bolstered by my desperation for more of him, it kept my nerves buried deep.

  Under me, in a simple, deft twist, he unclasped my bra without any struggle. He didn't even break the kiss, tugging at my lower lip tenderly with those perfect teeth. Is this really okay, having sex in his car? What if someone walking by sees us?

  His mouth moved lower, finding the peaks of my eager chest, ending my internal query.

  Roughly, Deacon moved my pants down, my hips wriggling to help. Something crinkled like foil, my eyes opening enough to see he held a condom. Glancing at me, he smiled sheepishly, hair matted to his forehead. “I thought, this time, I'd actually be prepared.”

  Did he want this to happen again?

  Braced across the seats, our clothes scattered about the car, we pressed together with a mutual groan. He lifted his head, kissing me once before leaning over me. Easily, I buried my face into his shoulder, muffling my cries of pleasure.

  In the end, though it was steamier, sweatier than ever, I was grateful for the privacy the fogged
windows gave us.

  Breathing heavily, rocking to meet his every move, I lost myself in the carnal nature of lust. I wanted Deacon, wanted all of him, and loved that this time there was no alcohol to muddle our senses. In my ear, I heard him grunt, felt him convulsing, twitching inside me.

  I must have squealed, it seemed impossible for me not to have, yet my skull was fluffy, black, unable to think of anything but the tingles in my lower belly.

  Every inch of me felt like it was glowing, even the insides of my eyelids were reddish. Dazzling in the glorious, relaxing aftermath, I slumped there, fingers still wrapped around his back. Gently, I pressed my lips to his salty skin, nuzzling him absently.

  “Leah,” he whispered, sitting up, his moan low as he slid away from me. “Are you alright?”

  “Of course,” I said, chuckling, my lashes brushing my cheeks lazily. “How could I not be?”

  That made him smile, until he tried to get comfortable next to me. The car proved too cramped to really cuddle together completely, a fact we both ended up blushing awkwardly over, laughing. “Maybe we should...”

  “Yeah,” I sighed, feeling like I was forgetting something. “Let's get out of here, it's really warm.”

  What is this that we're doing? As we tugged on our clothes, I couldn't stop my mind from wondering. He'd come prepared for this, and clearly, I had misread this morning. So, then, what did it all mean?

  What did Deacon Day want from me...

  And did I really know what I wanted from him?

  ****

  He walked me back to the apartment, our fingers linked together. I couldn't stop smiling, my face hurting from the over-use of the muscles there. Carefully, I shot another look up at Deacon, amazed I was doing this at all.

  “You keep looking at me,” he laughed, grabbing my hand tighter, halting our path mere feet from Vanessa's door. “Why, what's that about?”