Holding On

by Allie Everhart

  I feel his mouth over mine, then hear him whisper, "I miss you, Becca."

  My eyes open and I see him looking at me. "I miss you too."

  We kiss and my hands go to his muscular chest, his abs, down to the front of his shorts, stroking him, feeling how much he wants me. I want him too.

  "Becca," he groans. "Tell me we're doing this."

  "We're doing this." I smile against his lips.

  He kisses me once more, then takes my hand and leads me to his bedroom. Standing by the bed, I shimmy out of my dress, then realize it's my uniform.

  "Oh, shit."

  "What?" he asks, shoving off his shorts.

  "I just got off work. I smell like chicken."

  He laughs. "I don't care. Get over here." He pulls me toward him and I get a whiff of my hair, which smells like grease.

  I pull away. "I have to shower. I can't smell like this."

  He grins. "Good idea. We've never done it in the shower. Now with my cast off, we finally can."

  "No, that's not why I suggested it. I have to get this—"

  He kisses me, then scoops me up and carries me into his bathroom, keeping hold of me as he starts the water.

  "You can set me down," I say.

  "And risk you running off? Not a chance in hell." He opens the shower door and goes inside, then sets me down in front of him. My girly shower gel is still there on the shelf, which makes me smile. I can see it hasn't been used by anyone else, which also makes me smile. I grab the bottle and pour some in my hand.

  "Let me do it," Ethan says, turning my hand over so the soap falls onto his palm. Then he turns me around and slides his hands over my breasts while kissing the side of my neck.

  "I think those are clean," I say, smiling.

  "I have to make sure." He gently tugs on my nipples and a quiver of pleasure shoots down my core. I tip my head back against his warm chest, my eyes shutting as the water flows over us.

  He continues to lather me up, paying extra attention to the areas he knows drive me wild from his touch. I love that he knows me so well. I love HIM. I don't know want that means for the future, but right now I don't care. I just want to be with him.

  "Ethan," I moan as the peak of pleasure hits me. That was the second time. The first time happened from him just touching me with his hands. We haven't been in here that long and I've already come twice, thanks to Ethan. The boy knows what he's doing.

  He sets me down on the floor of the shower. I'm exhausted. My legs are weak. I can barely stand up. But it's the best kind of tired. The kind where you're completely relaxed after having been with the man you love.

  I'm afraid to tell him how I feel, but I want to. I know we still have issues to work out and I'm still worried he won't talk to me, but I've given that a lot of thought and Mike is right. Guys can't talk until they're ready to, so maybe that's just how it has to be. I can't force Ethan to talk. I have to wait until he's ready.

  "Becca, look at me," Ethan says as we're lying in bed, my head on his chest.

  I look up at him and smile. "Yeah?"

  "I don't know what tonight is. If it's just sex or if you were just lonely or what...but to me it's more than that."

  "That's not—"

  "Let me finish." He looks down. "After you broke up with me, I wanted to see you so bad. I wanted to talk to you. I left you all those messages hoping you'd call me back but part of me hoped you wouldn't."

  "Why?"

  "Because I wasn't ready. I wanted you back but I wasn't ready. But now I am." He swallows. "I wasn't in a good place when we met. Honestly there were some days I just wanted to end it. I blamed myself for what happened. Blamed myself for their deaths. I didn't think I deserved to live."

  "Ethan." I feel tears forming and one escapes down my cheek.

  "I don't feel that way anymore. Now I love my life. I love it more than I did before the accident. I don't take things for granted anymore. I finally see how lucky I am to have this talent. To have the opportunities I've been given. I finally feel good about my future. The only thing missing is someone to share it with." He reaches down to hold my hand, which is resting on his chest. "Like I said before, I don't know why you came here tonight. Maybe this is goodbye. But I hope not, because..." He sets his eyes on mine. "I love you, Becca. I love you so damn much. I know I didn't treat you well and I probably don't deserve you, but if you gave me another chance, I promise you—"

  "Don't," I say, stopping him. "I don't need promises. You love me and that's all I care about."

  "But what does that mean? For us?"

  "It means I love you, and want to be with you."

  "Then why did you leave me?"

  I sit up and face him. "Because I needed you to talk to me. I saw how much you were hurting and I wanted to help you, but when you wouldn't let me I had to leave. I couldn't love you and see you hurting like that and not be able to help. And you were angry. So angry. And you were taking it out on me. I wasn't going to let you treat me that way."

  He sits up and takes me in his arms. "I know, and I'm so sorry I acted that way. I wish I could take it all back."

  I pull away and look at him. "If we do this, if we get back together, I need you to at least try to let me in. I know talking about stuff isn't easy for you but maybe we could work on that together. I won't push you. I'll let you tell me when you're ready. I just need to know you trust me enough to tell me things. And to let me help you when you need it. I want to be the person you go to, Ethan. And I want you to be that person for me."

  "You already are that person. You always were. I just had to deal with some things myself before I could you let you in. But I'm ready to now."

  "I don't understand. If you wanted me back, why did you act like you weren't interested when you saw me at the restaurant earlier?"

  He grins. "I was playing hard to get."

  "But you called and left me messages every day. That's not exactly playing hard to get."

  "Sure it is. I kept you guessing. My messages asked you to call me. I never said why. You had to call me if you wanted to find out. And look how upset you got when, after all those phone messages, I just sat there tonight at the restaurant and ate my chicken. I didn't even attempt to flirt with you, which drove you crazy. So crazy you showed up at my door at midnight."

  "I'm sure at the restaurant you could tell how much I wanted you. I was totally breathless."

  He chuckles. "Yeah, you were."

  I kiddingly hit him. "Then why didn't you say something? You could've at least flirted a little so I'd know you were interested."

  "I couldn't. I had to let you come to me. I've heard that's the best way to deal with people who are extremely stubborn. You have to let them come to you."

  "I'm not stubborn!" I hit him again.

  "Are you kidding me? He laughs. "You're the most stubborn person I've ever met. And my technique worked. You showed up."

  "Whatever," I mumble.

  "Come here." He hugs me, then kisses my head and lies us back down on the bed.

  "Are you saying I can stay here tonight?"

  "Yeah, but not tomorrow. Or the next night. Or the night after that."

  I sit up. "Are you serious? I can't stay here?"

  "No." He's smiling. "Because I'm moving tomorrow. Back to my apartment. Which you are more than welcome to stay at."

  I fall back on his chest. "That was a mean joke."

  "It wasn't that mean." He kisses me. "I love you."

  "I love you too."

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Ethan

  I've been back with Becca for a week now and things are better than ever. As hard as it was to be apart from her all those weeks, I needed that time to get my shit together.

  When I first met Becca, she was a glimmer of light in my darkness. I craved that light, but whenever she wasn't with me, it would go away. And when she left for good, it was gone.

  I realized then that I couldn't rely on her for that. If I wanted to be with her, I had t
o find my own way out of the darkness. Becca gave me hope that things could eventually get better but I had to get there by myself. I know that frustrated her because she was so desperate to help but what she doesn't understand is that she did help me. If she hadn't shown up in my life, I'd still be consumed with guilt, unable to move forward.

  I still struggle with the guilt and the pain and the loss of my friends, but I'm a lot better than I was. I've been confiding in Mike since that day he came over here and he's really helped me. When we first met, I thought the guy hated me for dating his sister, and he probably did, but now it's almost like we're brothers.

  Mike is such an inspiration. He's been to hell and back. The things he's seen—shit, I can't even imagine. And yet he's so damn positive. Whenever I'm feeling sorry for myself, I just think of Mike and what he's been through and what he's lost, and I realize how lucky I am.

  As for sharing things with Becca, I'm still not there yet. I've talked to her a little about the accident and how I've struggled to move on, but I haven't told her everything. I haven't even told her about Kasey's mom calling me that day. That phone call still haunts me. I can still hear her crying.

  My phone rings and I stare at the number, my heart pounding. It's her. Kasey's mom. Did she know I was thinking about her? Why is she calling? Why won't she leave me alone? Things are going so well. I can't do this again. I can't keep reliving the accident.

  "Hello," I answer.

  "Ethan, it's Lisa. Kasey's mom."

  "Hi." I clear my throat.

  "Sorry to call again, but I thought you'd like to know that we're having a special remembrance service for Kasey this weekend. Next Saturday would've been her twenty-first birthday and we wanted to do something special, so some of her high school friends organized this event to remember her. It'll be here in Indianapolis, so I understand if you can't make it, but I wanted you to know."

  Why is she telling me this? If she doesn't expect me to go, she wouldn't have called.

  I hate this. The never-ending guilt. I've been trying to forgive myself, not blame myself for what happened, and now I feel guilty again. Like I'm a bad person if I don't go to the service.

  I know I should go, but I don't know if I can. I don't know if I can be surrounded by photos of Kasey looking happy and smiling and full of life, hearing what great a person she was, being surrounded by all her friends who'll be looking at me as though her death was my fault. The guy who didn't buckle her in her seat. The guy Kasey saved with her life.

  Lisa's waiting for me to say something. I can't promise her I'll go so I say, "I'll think about it. I'm not sure if I'll be able to be there."

  "I understand. I don't expect you to. But maybe you could keep Kasey in your thoughts on Saturday."

  "Of course. I definitely will."

  "Thank you, Ethan, for thinking of her. Goodbye."

  She hangs up before I can tell her goodbye. I think she was on the verge of crying again so she hurried off the phone.

  She's still suffering. Drowning in her grief. She probably will be for years to come.

  Guilt comes flooding over me again, filling me with anger, loss, regret.

  "Hey." I look up and see Becca walking in. She's been staying here at my apartment all week. I'm thinking of asking her to move in but I know she'll turn me down. She's not ready for that yet. She'll say it's too soon, and maybe it is. I'm still trying to work on myself, and after that call just now, it's clear I still have more work to do.

  One call from Kasey's mom and I feel like shit.

  Becca drops a sack of groceries on the kitchen counter, then joins me on the couch, sitting on my lap and giving me a hug, then a kiss.

  "I got everything for dinner," she says, smiling. "Did Jackson say what time they're coming over?"

  Jackson and a few of my other teammates are coming here for dinner. My apartment has some grills outside for the tenants to use so we're having a cookout. It was Becca's idea. She's trying to get to know my friends. I think she's also doing it because she wants me to be more social. She knows I still struggle sometimes and she worries I'll go back to isolating myself from my friends, which is exactly what I feel like doing right now. I don't want to be around anyone.

  "I think he said seven," I tell her.

  "That'll work. I got burgers to grill and I stopped at The Chicken Shack and picked up some sides. Max said to tell you hi."

  I lift Becca off my lap and stand up. "I'm going to take a shower."

  "You just took one before I left." She smiles. "Or did you mean with me? Because I'm totally up for that." She gets up and kisses me.

  "I'm sore from lifting weights. I just want to stand under the hot water."

  "Oh." She backs away. "Okay."

  She looks at me, and I know she senses something's wrong. I can't hide it from her. She knows me too well.

  "What happened?" she asks.

  "Nothing," I lie. I want to tell her. I do. I just can't make myself do it.

  "Ethan, sit down." She takes my hand but I pull it away.

  "Not now."

  "Why?"

  "I need some time."

  "Time to what?" I hear a hint of anger in her voice. "What's going on?"

  "Becca, you told me you wouldn't push."

  "I know but I feel like we're going back to how things were."

  "That's not true. I've been opening up to you. Telling you things. You can't say that isn't progress."

  "It is, and it's a step forward, but right now, I feel like we're stepping back."

  I sigh. "Stop making this into something bigger than it is. I just need some time."

  She nods, then heads to the door. "I'm gonna go."

  "Go where?"

  "Home. If you need time, then I'm taking time too. Call me when you're ready to talk."

  "Becca, wait." I meet her at the door.

  "What?" she snaps.

  "You're walking out on me? Again?"

  "We're still dating. I just can't keep watching you do this to yourself. And when you won't let me help, or even just tell me what's wrong, I get angry. And I don't like being angry at you."

  "I don't want to be angry at you either. So stay, and just give me some time."

  Her shoulders drop and she sighs. "Ethan, I don't know what that means. Give you time to what? Lock yourself in your room, feeling sad? Depressed? Hating yourself? Going back and reliving that night?" She takes my hand. "Why do you do this to yourself? And why won't you let me be there for you?"

  I don't give her an answer.

  She lets go of my hand and shakes her head. "I don't know if I can do this, Ethan."

  "Do what?"

  "I love you, but...I don't know if I can be with you when you're like this. I know I said I wouldn't push you to talk to me but I shouldn't have to. You should want to talk to me. You talk to Mike, so why can't you talk to me?"

  "It's not the same," I mutter.

  "Why?"

  "It just isn't."

  She hesitates, then says, "Then don't call me until it is."

  "What does that mean?"

  "I can't be with you until you're able to talk to me. I'm sorry, Ethan. I thought I could do this, but I can't. I love you too much to watch you suffer and not be able to help."

  And then she turns and walks out the door.

  Shit. She can't leave. I can't lose her. Not again.

  "Becca!" I go out in the hall but don't see her. Where the hell did she go? She left two seconds ago. The elevator couldn't have shown up that fast. Maybe she took the stairs. I go to the stairwell and race down the stairs. "Becca!"

  I still can't find her. She must already be outside. Damn, she's fast, especially when she's angry. I go outside and find her walking to her van, which is parked across the street.

  "Becca, wait!" I run after her.

  She turns around, her keys in her hand. "Ethan, I don't want to..."

  As she's talking, a car veers around the corner heading straight for her. Holy shit! I race into the s
treet and shove her out of the way as the driver in the car swerves and honks his horn.

  I'm lying on the grass near the sidewalk, clutching Becca in my arms. She almost got hit. She could've been killed. And it would've been because of me. Because I distracted her when she was crossing the street.

  "Are you all right?" I ask, not letting her go.

  "Yeah." She's out of breath. "I didn't see that guy coming."

  "He came from around the corner, going way too fast."

  She softly smiles. "You saved me."

  "I almost got you killed." I hug her against me. "God, I'm so sorry."

  "Ethan, it wasn't your fault." She pulls back. "I'm the one who stopped in the street. You've gotta stop blaming yourself."

  "I'm the one who made you stop. If you'd been hit, it would've been my fault."

  "Stop saying that. Nothing is your fault. Accidents happen."

  She looks up at me and just being near her, holding her, calms me. My heart rate returns to normal as I come down from the adrenaline rush that shot through my veins when I saw that car heading toward Becca.

  "I can't lose you," I tell her.

  "You're not losing me. I just think you need more time to work things out before we can be together."

  "I don't want more time. I know I still need to work through things but...I want to do it with you. I don't want to do it alone."

  "But you said—"

  "I know what I said. But I was wrong. I can't do this alone. I've tried and I'm better than I was, but that's only because I've had your brother to talk to. But I need more. I need you. You were there during some of my darkest moments, and even though you don't know it, you were the reason I got through those moments. I looked forward to you coming over, even when you were just coming over to clean. You think you haven't helped me, Becca, but you have. You have no idea how much you've helped me."

  "But you still won't talk to me."

  I stand up, and offer her my hands. "Let's go upstairs."

  She takes my hands and I help her up. "What are we doing?"

  "We're going to talk."

  When we're back in my apartment, I tell her things I haven't told her before. About the nightmares, the flashbacks, the guilt I still hold onto. Then I tell her about the first call I got from Kasey's mom, then the one I got just this morning.