Bittersweet Always

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Bittersweet Always Page 9

by Ella Fields


  If she didn’t want to see me or talk to me, then whatever.

  What-fucking-ever.

  I didn’t even realize I’d picked the coffee mug up until I saw it sailing toward the wall, then raining all over the carpet in white and black pieces.

  My hands went to my hair, my heart roaring in my ears.

  Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

  Quinn didn’t wake up. Dude could sleep through a fucking hurricane.

  Fuck.

  I collapsed on the bed, lying on the bare mattress and squeezing my eyes shut as my mind raced.

  “Hey.” Quinn’s voice slithered into my sleep-riddled brain. He shook my shoulder. “Toby, wake up.”

  “No.”

  I heard him sigh before saying, “Pippa’s downstairs. I’d entertain her, but I gotta go find Lex. Oh, and I put your sheets in the dryer, too.”

  My eyes flashed open, and I sat up so fast, dizziness overtook me. “What time is it?” I tried to focus, scanning my room for my phone.

  “Almost four. We must’ve slept most of the day away.”

  I didn’t bother asking why he did. Not because I didn’t care, but because I didn’t want him asking me questions. Which he often liked to do when I slept too much. “Well, shit.”

  He paused in the doorway, checking his pockets. “You, ah, have an issue with the mug?”

  “Huh?” I frowned at him as I stood, remembering Pippa was apparently downstairs. I made my way past him, heading to the bathroom to take a piss.

  “The shit all over the floor? And the dent in the wall?”

  I groaned, tucking myself away and washing my hands. Grabbing my toothbrush, I squirted some paste on and ran it under the tap quickly. “Don’t worry about it,” I mumbled around my brush.

  His brows narrowed as I watched him in the mirror. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

  My hand paused, but I just nodded. He waved goodbye and disappeared. I heard him say something to Pippa quickly before the front door shut.

  Spitting, I rinsed my mouth and washed my brush, then splashed my face with some water.

  Why was she here? Did she regret what we did? How fast things went?

  I didn’t know if I could, but maybe, if she really needed me to, I could go slower.

  I refused to acknowledge the voices that said she might be here for reasons that might affect me more than I thought they would.

  She wasn’t done with me.

  I knew she wasn’t. She couldn’t look at me the way she did, tremble beneath me like she had, and laugh with me like she’d never done it before and be fucking done with me.

  I pushed the ridiculous thought away.

  She was sitting on the couch, her legs wrapped in black leggings and tucked beneath her. Her hair was down, flowing in natural waves around her apprehensive face.

  My stomach dropped. Any relief I’d felt left, making way for anger.

  I leaned against the doorway, folding my arms across my bare chest.

  She gulped.

  Good. I hoped whatever she had to say hurt. I hoped it burned its way up her slim, beautiful throat.

  “Toby.” A whisper, followed by her patting the empty space on the couch next to her.

  I don’t think so. A smirk tugged at my mouth. “No thanks. What do you want?” Her furrowed brow made my blood simmer. “Do you need another round with Gray Springs all-star wide receiver tonight to tell your girlfriends about?”

  She rose from the couch, her shock and hurt a palpable thing that wrapped tight around my chest, squeezing in a way I relished. “Don’t be a dick. I came here to explain something to you.”

  “Explain the way you up and left while I was asleep?” I stepped closer until we were almost toe to toe, hissing through clenched teeth. “Like everything we did meant nothing? And to tell me that you’re a beautiful fucking liar?”

  “I haven’t lied about a damn thing,” she volleyed. “But I’m about to walk out that door if this is how you’re going to fucking act.”

  That brought me up short, but I tried not to let my panic show. “I’m not going to stop you. Explain or don’t, I don’t particularly give a shit.”

  She stepped back, her pale skin paling further. “You know what?” Her head shook, eyes glazing over with tears. “I think I was right to overreact after all.”

  What? “Overreact about what?” I grabbed her wrist as she went to walk by me.

  “You.” At my confused expression, she laughed humorlessly. “The medication, Toby. In your bathroom.”

  My hand fell away. My heart plummeting to the floor. “How …” I stopped, knowing damn well how she’d found them. It wasn’t something I’d planned to keep from her, but shit, since when did you need to walk around warning your love interests of your mental health? “I’m failing to understand what the problem is.”

  “The problem is you didn’t tell me.”

  The laugh that slipped out of me was dry. “I hadn’t told you yet. And I didn’t realize it was a deal breaker.”

  Her growl was cute, but I couldn’t let it get to me. What the hell was her deal?

  “It’s not.” Her shoulders sagged. “Not exactly.”

  “Not exactly?” I guffawed, my hands flying to my head. I stared up at the ceiling. “I think you should go.”

  “Toby …”

  “No.” I dropped my head, arms slapping to my sides as I brushed past her to the door. “It’s clear you’ve got an issue with this, so there’s no point in wasting our time.” I didn’t believe any of the shit I was saying. Then again, I often never did. “Go.”

  Pippa ducked her head, sniffing as she walked by me. I was about to close the door when she said, “My dad was diagnosed borderline bipolar when I was a child.” My hand froze, the door hanging open enough for me to see her turn around and give me the full effect of the hurt swimming in her eyes. “He left right before my fourteenth birthday. His reason was that we were better off without him.”

  I could only stare, every tense muscle in my body slowly loosening, one by one, until I almost slumped against the door. Straightening, I opened it fully as she continued, “So I’m sorry, but it scared me. Especially after watching my mom all these years. I shouldn’t have let it, but it just did, okay? And I know your … issues may be different, that most people’s are, but I didn’t know—” She squeaked as I grabbed her hand, hauling her inside.

  The door slammed behind me as Toby tugged me to his chest, his hands grabbing my face. Eyes bright and burning stared down into mine. Breathing, loud and labored, mixed with my own. And then his lips descended. I braced myself, preparing for the passionate, rough rawness I’d come to expect whenever we collided.

  Except it was nothing like that.

  I was taken back to the first time his lips introduced themselves to mine with the sweet, gentle brushstrokes. “I’m sorry,” he breathed out. I stared up at him, my mouth floating over his. “I didn’t mean to be such a …”

  “Dick?” I offered.

  He chuckled, and relief flooded my chest at the sound. “Yeah. That. You need to try to understand, this is foreign to me. You invaded something inside me the minute I saw you, and you haven’t left since.” His swallow was audible, his thumbs caressing my cheeks. “It fucked with my head to wake up and find you gone. And when you didn’t respond …”

  “I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t know how to explain it without telling you about my dad. Only, I didn’t know if I could.”

  His head tipped back, gaze scanning my face. “Yet you decided you could.”

  “Yeah.” I smiled timidly, feeling like my heart might swallow me whole with its swelling.

  “Do you …” He stopped, collecting his thoughts into words. “Do you think you could always tell me now?”

  I didn’t know what he was asking, but I understood he was riding unchartered waters and tried to read between the lines. “Yes. Whatever you want.”

  His sigh was loud and endearing. “Okay.” Nodding, he repeated himse
lf. “Okay. Are you okay?”

  He’d hurt me just minutes before. It scared me and made me realize that this was more than I thought it was, and that we’d definitely moved fast. I didn’t care, though. I wanted fast if it came with him. “More than okay.”

  He picked me up, and I laughed, wrapping my legs around his waist as he carried me upstairs. “I washed the sheets.”

  “Good.”

  “The bed isn’t made yet, though.”

  “I’ll help you.”

  He set me down in his room. “I’ll go get them.”

  After making the bed, we ate ice cream and watched an action movie. Toby fell asleep as soon as it started, but his head was on my chest, so I didn’t want to move him to turn something else on.

  I could hear my phone ringing from the kitchen but continued running my fingers through his soft hair. His arm tightened around me at various points during the movie, as though the louder scenes startled him wherever he was in his dreams.

  Something burned in my chest. A feeling I wasn’t sure if I should’ve encouraged to catch fire, or if I should’ve fanned the flames long before now.

  It was probably too late. Yet even after the events of today, I wasn’t all that scared.

  I should have been. Remembering the way my mom used to walk through life as though every bit of her happiness depended on my dad should have made me reconsider everything.

  But not every situation could be compared to another. Nothing was ever remotely the same.

  And so when Toby woke up and I watched his eyes change from panicked to relieved when he realized I was still there, I was glad I didn’t throw this away due to fear.

  “Hi, Tobes.”

  His smile was slow to crawl over his face but no less devastating. “Pip-squeak.”

  After glancing around quickly, he looked up at me. “Fuck, sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

  “Don’t be sorry. Wanna eat?”

  His brows waggled, and he rolled, turning his head to rub his chin on my stomach. “What’s on the menu?”

  “Food first.”

  He huffed. “Fine.”

  We made pancakes and ate them at the counter. I drizzled mine with maple syrup while Toby cut up some fruit to put with his. “I’ve been eating like shit. Makes working out quite the bitch,” he commented at my raised brow.

  “And some fruit with that gigantic stack of pancakes is going to help?”

  He mulled that over, taking the knife to the sink and washing it quickly. “Nah, but it makes me feel a little less guilty.”

  We ate in silence, both of us famished. The way he ate had me watching in rapt fascination as I shoveled forkfuls into my mouth. He only stopped to gulp some water, then went right back to it.

  “Is there a record for how quickly someone can eat a stack of pancakes?” I asked, pointing my fork at him. “Because you’d totally win.”

  His cocky smile made me smile. “You have a brother.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  His head tilted, and he swiped his bottom lip with his thumb. “He play sports?”

  “Hockey.” I took the last bite from my plate, feeling very full.

  “And he doesn’t eat like his life depends on it?”

  Thinking back to mealtimes at home, I realized that yes, he was right. To a certain extent. “Still not as fast as you.”

  “I’ll teach him how the pros do it.” He got up, taking our plates to the sink and rinsing them.

  His words made my stomach flip. If we continued this like I hoped we would, he’d eventually meet my family.

  I had no idea why that thought terrified me. It wasn’t that I was embarrassed of him or my family. It was just … after finding out what I had that morning, well, it just was. I didn’t think they’d judge him or me, but I knew my mom. I knew she’d probably be a bit concerned for me. And I couldn’t blame her.

  “Question,” Toby said, closing the dishwasher and turning it on. He dried his hands on a dish towel. “If you’d known about me before we got this far, would you still be here right now?”

  It was uncanny how he knew where my thoughts had gone. I wasn’t fooling myself, though, or him. Toby was observant, and it made sense he’d want to know.

  “Honest answer?” I asked, trailing my finger over the granite countertop.

  He leaned over the counter, tilting my chin until I met his turbulent eyes. “Always.”

  Swallowing, I nodded a little. “I don’t know if I would be.”

  His mouth fell open, and I watched his tongue poke his teeth. “Right.”

  Leaning away, he hung up the towel and rounded the counter. “I know that sounds bad, and who knows, maybe I would still be here. But I can’t say that for sure.”

  He walked toward the stairs, and I followed, asking, “Are you mad?” He continued walking, and I grumbled under my breath. “This. This is why I don’t know.”

  “What?” He’d stopped halfway up the stairs.

  I climbed them all the way to the top, bypassing him and heading to his room. He caught my arm at the door, spinning me around to face him. His touch was gentle, but his expression was unreadable. “Tell me what you meant just now.”

  “I meant, you walking away when I’m trying to talk to you is why I couldn’t tell you for sure if I’d still be here.”

  My breathing was coming hard, and I stepped away from him. What was he doing to me?

  “Pippa.”

  “No, you need to understand. I don’t have some personal vendetta against people who suffer from a mental illness. I have personal issues with what I suffered, my brother suffered, and especially what my mom suffered due to my dad’s. So no, I honestly can’t say if this is something I would’ve wanted for myself had I known.” I stopped, taking a deep breath and slowly setting it free. “I’m sorry, but that’s the truth. Accept it or don’t.”

  Toby stared for an agonizing heartbeat, then came forward, cupping my cheeks. “I’m sorry. I get … irrational. But …”

  “But?” I asked when he closed his eyes.

  He opened them, and I wanted to crawl into him, dissolve into his chest, and fill him with warmth at the vulnerable look in his gaze. “But you definitely want this now?”

  Rolling my eyes, I sniffed, shoving him playfully. “Yeah. You played your cards right.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “I know,” I cut him off. “Just promise me something.”

  Nodding, he said, “Anything.”

  “Don’t pretend in front of me. Don’t ever make me believe something that isn’t true.”

  His breath flew out of him in a rush, and then he was on me, pushing me down to the freshly made bed and undoing the buttons on my dress. “I promise.”

  Mouths meeting, tongues colliding, and teeth clinking, we stripped, touching and breathing heavily until we couldn’t take it any longer.

  Sinking inside me, he sat back on his haunches, staring down at where we connected with my ankles in his hands. My legs were spread wide, and the last light of day streamed through the blinds. Yet I didn’t feel insecure. I didn’t feel anything other than every sensation he was evoking in me.

  “Pippa,” he rasped.

  “Yes?” I breathed. He didn’t answer; instead, he brought my ankle to his mouth, licking my skin before dropping both to the bed and spreading my legs wider. Rough fingertips trailed down my thighs to my center. His eyes, though, never left mine, and his movements slowed, jutting forward and back like he could do this forever.

  This boy, this man. The way he looked at me, touched me, and made me come undone. It was like nothing else I’d experienced before. And I realized then that all he was, every single part of him, made it this way. Made it something you’d be lucky to encounter once in a lifetime.

  “Pippa, I want …” I met his gaze as he filled me to the hilt and lowered over top of me, resting on his forearms.

  “What do you want?” At that point, I was certain I’d give him anything.

 
“I want to sink so deep inside you that I leave a permanent mark.”

  His teeth plunged into my neck, and my breath flew out of me. “Does that scare you?”

  “N-no,” I croaked.

  “I want to be with you always. To crawl underneath your skin, live inside the life that runs through your every vein, and consume your every thought.” He kissed my neck. “Does that scare you?”

  “No.”

  Licking my thundering pulse, he rasped, “I want you to breathe me, to inhale to thoughts of me, and for you to exhale anything that stops me from overtaking every part of you. I want …” His breath stuttered, head rising to rest his forehead on mine. “To do to you exactly what you’ve done to me.”

  My heart dissolved into ashes, my eyes pooling with tears. I couldn’t lie. Couldn’t hold back in hopes of protecting myself when it was too late. “You already have.”

  “Honey.”

  “Hmm?”

  Looking up from the word search in the paper, Pippa’s eyes narrowed.

  I merely shrugged, spooning more cereal into my mouth.

  “I was talking about the word.”

  “Of course, you were.” I glanced back down at the page, scanning the boxes. “There.” I pointed at it, then resumed eating.

  “How do you do that?” she asked the paper as she lightly colored the box.

  “Find the words? That’s what you’re supposed to do.” Pushing my bowl aside, I took the newspaper, separated out the sports section, and then laid it back in front of her.

  “Smartass.”

  “Don’t hate.” I licked my finger to turn the page when something hit my cheek, and I froze. Without moving, my eyes rose to find Pippa looking down at the word search, humming under her breath.

  Picking up the soggy bit of cereal, I kept it on my finger as I read on about last Sunday’s game.

  Her phone rang in her purse, but she didn’t move. When it started up again a minute later, I asked, “Who are you avoiding?”

  “Everyone.”

  Her bluntness made me snort, and I watched as she chewed on her thumb.

  Pippa liked to do word searches and crosswords in pencil, giving herself a way out should she need to back up and erase something. Her favorite day of the week was Thursday, and I knew that because she always wore her favorite bright red ballet flats.

 

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