by Lila Felix
“Are there more?” I prompted after we’d been staring at a black screen for what seemed like hours.
“No. That’s it. Those were all the home movies transferred to one DVD. I have a box of photos at home, but I never take them out.”
“Maybe you should.”
“He always told me not to talk about her. I couldn’t ask anything about her. I don’t have one of those cutesy stories of the mayhem of my birth or anything. This is all I have of her.”
I sat up. “Maybe Eric knows.”
He shook his head in denial. “I asked. He wasn’t there and he wasn’t invited.”
“Then let’s make one up.” He shot me a look that would kill baby ducks. “I’ll start. Your mom woke up in the middle of the night to get something to drink and her water broke…” I elbowed him, forcing his hand.
“No. Don’t do it. I think it’s better that I don’t know.”
It was worth a try. “Let’s go outside again.”
He drilled daggers into me with his stare, so serious and concerned at once. “Scared again, baby?”
Tingles rippled down my spine at the sound of him calling me that. I hadn’t ever been a fan of baby as a term of endearment. But the word coming from the lips of Crown bathed me in desperation to be near him—to hear him say it again.
“He gets out tomorrow—Abraham.” My fingers flexed in nervous energy.
Both of his hands reached up and rounded my shoulders before he dragged them down the length of my arms, his eyes intent on the act. “He won’t touch you as long as I’m here.”
His words became a needle to my temple. “And when you’re gone?”
“Tippi said you have a backup plan?”
I nodded. It wasn’t what I wanted him to say, but at least there was a contingency in his wake. He wasn’t just leaving me vulnerable and alone. He knew I had a plan in his absence.
It was just on my side of comforting.
“So, as soon as I’m gone…”
A lump lodged in my throat as we continued to bring up the bull that kept threatening to run me right through.
“When you’re gone, I will move on. Everything is ready.”
I straightened my shoulders, proud that I’d somehow retained a thread of female self-preservation. I hadn’t become the damsel in distress yet.
Well, not completely.
The air crackled around us, reminding me that this moment in time was as fragile as glass, just waiting for the right puncture to shatter me.
“Good. I’m glad. You have so much,” his knuckles brushed my cheek. “so much life to give someone.”
Someone, but not him.
He jumped up like he’d realized the corner he was in and stuck his hand out for the second time that night to take mine. “Let’s go outside if it makes you feel safer.”
I avoided his hand and went outside after grabbing some blankets from my house again. Apparently boys didn’t own throw blankets. I made sure to lock the door again, even though we’d be right there.
We laid on the blanket, mirroring the same poses we’d taken the night before I left for New York, except this time, I made sure there was plenty of distance. I didn’t want to get closer—any closer than I already was to breaking all the rules and begging him to stay.
For a few minutes, I let the silence be my company, daring my heart to listen any more to the lulling calm of his breaths or the way the crickets seemed to still when he moved.
“Don’t do this, Lyra. We have now. It’s not much, but it’s what we have. It’s—it’s all I can give you.”
I didn’t dare look at him. I knew that one second in the trance of his gaze would hook me and never let me go.
“What if this isn’t enough?”
“It’s better than nothing, don’t you think?”
I did it. I made the mistake of locking eyes with him and the rest was a lost cause. I just let my heart lead on from then, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him to me.
Because this was all I had to give him.
At least, all that he could see.
There was a tugging around my heart that told me that whether or not I would admit it, it was too late. I’d already given most of himself to him. There was a beautiful madness in giving your heart to someone who you knew could never offer his. A madness that trilled through my conscience, bringing me to the cusp of anger and then marching me back down under the premise of hope.
A girl could hope in secret all she wanted.
“What would you do if our time wasn’t limited?”
That little pinch of self-punishment was just what I needed to carry myself over the edge.
He chuckled. It shook us, still tangled together.
An unexpected quiver of desire lit me up and chipped at the sadness that was already fading with his touch.
“If time was unlimited, I’d have lots to learn. I’m still selfish. I’m still me, just a little less demanding about it. Most of all I’d have to learn how to—let’s just say that loving you would be a new thing for me.”
I didn’t allow myself to harp on him hinting at his potential love for me—I couldn’t.
I chose to ignore it altogether.
“I feel safe with you.”
“You make me want to be different—better.”
“I thought Crown Sterling was the best.”
He laughed again, nuzzling his face into my neck. “My dad used to do that. I didn’t realize how much I said that stupid shit until you made fun of me.”
I pulled back, offended. “I didn’t make fun of you.”
He leaned forward and rubbed his nose against the tip of mine, which may have been the cutest thing ever. “You did and I deserved it. I’d still be running around thinking that I owned the world if it wasn’t for you.”
I pushed an untamed hair out of his face. When I looked back, his eyes were on my lips again. He looked at my lips almost as much as he looked into my eyes.
I was back at the peak of madness.
“Give me a reason.” I pleaded.
“What good would it do?”
I attempted to think of something to say while his thumb blazed a trail along my bottom lip.
“Tell me something, Crown.”
“It ends me when you say my name.”
I let my words steep in the air for a moment, but when it seemed they hadn’t done their job, I asked him again.
“Tell me. Just once. Pretend there is no deal and tell me.”
I was pressed tight against him, Crown’s body pinning me down on the blankets—my wrists had been captured by his hands. I loved him having control over me like this, permissible control. His slightly parted mouth ran a trail from my chin, across my jaw until his heated breath paused at my earlobe. His hands slithered up my palms and his fingers linked with mine. I was lost to him—so blissfully lost that I didn’t care if I ever emerged.
His hips pulsed against mine, getting my attention—getting all my attention.
“And what good would it do, Lyra? What purpose would it serve by telling you that I can’t stand to think about leaving here without you—without having you just once? That going to sleep without your lullaby is going to kill me. Would anything be saved by making you know that I can’t stop thinking about you? How would it help me to feel your lips against mine over and over again until you begged me to stay? It wouldn’t. The only thing it would bring, is our ruin—my ruin.”
He thought love would ruin him.
Or maybe just my love.
I relented to him, allowing myself to revel in what was and stifling down what could’ve been.
Sometime later, I felt myself being picked up and though I was awake, I felt every second of Crown, carrying me to his bed.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Crown
Infinity and Nothing
She’d gone home early in the morning, making excuses about her hair and needing to brush her teeth. But I knew that she was just shielding herself.
That was our shared concern and always had been—protecting her from me.
If I could—if I would be anything without my career, I would end the whole damned thing and be whoever I was within minutes of her. But my career shackled me to a place she wasn’t.
So I did what I could with the time I was given.
“You gotta do something big—something romantic so she’ll remember you.”
It sounded like someone trying to make an obituary nice.
“Like what? I don’t know what the shit I’m doing.”
“Cook for her.”
“I want her to—like me—not die on me.”
Blake laughed like an idiot at my expense—again.
“Chela knows how to cook. Ask her.”
All this bullshit about asking people to help me happened more often than I actually knew how to do stuff.
“Fine. Are we done? You’ve just been running your mouth for the last hour.”
He put his pinkie to his mouth and thumb in his ear signaling me to call her.
“Eric? This is Crown. Yeah. I’m fine. Listen, I was wondering if Chela could do me a favor. I know you do plenty for me, but this time it’s for Lyra.”
I listened while they yammered back and forth.
“Tonight? Yeah, I can do that.”
Later that night Chela showed up right at six o’clock. She pulled out pasta and peeled shrimp which she insisted Lyra loved.
The thing about Chela was—she mainly did it herself. She cut everything up and wouldn’t let me do anything except pour the boiling water off of the cooked pasta. She mostly verbally instructed.
Not what I had in mind, but it would have to do.
“Now, here’s the wine. All you have to do is wait until she gets here, serve it up and say it’s yours.”
I cut discerning eyes at her. “That’s lying.”
She shrugged. “Your choice.”
“I have to change.”
Chela kissed me on the cheek. “I think you already have.”
I dressed as if we were going on a real date in a button down and black pants. My knee was nearly good as new except for the soreness. I still didn’t know if I could run for ninety minutes, but my only choice was to try like hell.
Lyra didn’t even knew I was coming over.
I knocked on the front door with flowers in hand—Chela’s idea. Looking down at them, I shook my head. These are the things Crown Sterling wouldn’t have thought of. These were the things that Lyra deserved.
“Crown?”
“Hey. I—there’s pasta made and I thought if you were hungry…”
She closed the door briefly to unchain the door and then opened it back her hand now deliciously propped on her hip. “Say it Crown. Don’t just dance around. You’ve got to work for it.”
This is what I could love about Lyra. She made me work for it. I cleared my throat and steeled myself for asking a girl out—straight up.
“There’s dinner made and I would love for you to eat with me.”
Love—I kept throwing that damned word around.
“Let me get changed.” There was a nervous twang in her voice and she seemed more than eager to get out of the house. She forgot to take the flowers from me. I tilted back and forth on my heels wondering if I should go back and wait for her or wait there.
Ten minutes later she came out dressed in a dark purple dress that barely came to her knees. The front was cut nearly down to her belly button, slightly revealing the curves of her—well, too many curves to be showing.
I wrapped my arm around her waist, practically dragging her to my apartment before any leering eyes could spot what I didn’t want them to.
“What’s the rush—jeez!” She fussed at my, wriggling out of my grasp.
Frazzled didn’t begin to explain my behavior. I couldn’t help myself, that neckline begged me to touch it. Beginning at her collar bone, I tucked my fingertip just under the hem of it and ran it down the length of the cut, gauging her reaction the entire time, ready to stop if she wanted me to. She never did. Going back up the other side she reached out and fisted my shirt.
“God help me, but I don’t want anyone else—ever—seeing you like this and I certainly don’t want anyone touching you.”
Her expression dismissed my declaration.
“It’s true,” I said, gently turning her chin so that she face me again. “It kills me just to think about it.”
“You think I feel any better about letting you go to all your fangirls? I bet they’re just clawing at each other to get their hands back on your—you.”
That flash of jealousy from Lyra was my complete undoing. Damn her rules. Damn the deal. Damn everything I had been and had said about her.
I had to taste her—just once.
“I’m going to kiss you now. And if you still don’t want me to, you’re going to have to stop me.”
She gasped and I expected the yelling or the slapping to come next. Instead, she leaned in and trailed her hands from my chest down to my waist. My need for her popped in my ears and gripped me so hard I could barely breathe.
“I’m not going to stop you.”
Her whisper gave me permission. As slowly as I could move, I closed the distance between us. I had to savor this moment, breathe it in and allow it to brand itself inside me. It would be the only thing I had of her.
“Baby, you are so beautiful. Have I ever told you that?”
Her eyes were half closed and by the movement of her chest, I knew her breaths were as labored as mine were. “If you did, I don’t remember.”
“You are. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
Something like a whimper came from her mouth and it unraveled any self-control I had left. Our lips touched only a breath at first. My tongue tasted the seam of her mouth and bid it open. She had some kind of honey flavored lip stuff on and it tingled on the edges of lips. Her mouth parted, giving me the invitation I wanted and I took full advantage teasing her bottom lip with bites before easing my way into her now fully parted mouth. Her hands left my stomach and pulled at the back of my hair as she moaned in acceptance of what I had to offer. Her tongue should be illegal along with that dress she was wearing.
Desperate for a better hold on her, I cupped her backside and rocked her hips to mine.
“Wait,” she breathed.
“What?”
“I can’t. We can’t. I might not ever see you again. We—I can’t.”
Not ready to let her go yet I held onto her waist and kissed her everywhere that I thought might be safe, her hair, her temple and mostly her forehead. She laid her face against my chest, wrapping her arms around me until they clasped behind my back.
If she asked me right that moment to give it all up—to give up everything I’d worked for and stay with her.
I might’ve done it.
“Let’s eat. Chela came over here to teach me how to cook for you, but she did most of the cooking.” I plated up our food and served it on my glass table, which Lyra looked so out of place sitting at.
“You tried to cook—for me?”
“I did. Does trying count for anything?”
She smiled and slid her wine glass toward me. “It definitely counts.”
We both ate, using the food to stop our mouths from saying things we wanted to say, but also didn’t want to hear aloud. I decided, when she finished her plate, then was the time to make my proposal.
I didn’t know if it was a bad idea or a good one.
“I have something to ask you.”
“What?” She smiled at me and I almost forgot what I was going to say.
“I was wondering if you’d come to my first game back. It’s in a month, but I thought maybe…” Her face grew serious and it made me backtrack. I was hurting her more and more just by asking this of her.
“That would be great, Crown. It would be nice to see you play.”
“If they even let me play.” I gruffed.
> “I’m sure they will. Let me know when and I’ll be there. Promise.”
I nodded but my stomach was still in knots. “Stay with me until I go.”
She coughed, choking on the sip of wine she’d taken before I spoke. “What?”
“Stay here—with me. Just sleeping. I only have a few weeks left. I want to spend every second with you.”
Setting down her glass she played with the napkin on her lap. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Yes. I’ll stay with you.”
The best five words I’d ever heard in my life.
That began the best two weeks of my life. Lyra slept in my arms and woke up beside me. We read together and painted her stupid dresser during the day. She even wrangled me into painting her toenails one day out of pure boredom.
Even boredom was bliss around Lyra.
Before I knew it, the two weeks were over and I missed her already. Blake had visited one last time to wish me well and beat me over the head with his romanticized version of how I should handle the snowballing feelings I had for Lyra.
He needed to mind his own damned business.
I was leaving the next day. Lyra was avoiding me. And while I wished that she wouldn’t—I’d hoped to spend every last minute with her, I understood.
Every second I felt the twinge of regret for this life that left me without free will and choices.
The sadness in her eyes twisted my guts.
“You’re packed?” She patted my suitcase.
“Almost done.”
She covered up her sigh with a fake yawn, but I saw right through her.
“You’re coming to the game?” Not sounding eager was not my best acting.
“Three weeks?” Just the time framed words coming out of her mouth pained me. If I couldn’t hardly breathe knowing I would be without her for three weeks, how was I going to ever let her go for good?
“Did you decide if you’re taking me to the airport or not?”
She cleared her throat and adorably tried to seem like this whole thing didn’t bother her. I admired that quality about her. On the outside, she maintained her strength no matter what. “No. Eric wants to take you. I think he was upset about you not inviting him to your game.”