“Oh, Celeste, how dare you?” she exclaims. She makes a face at me riddled with disgust. “You came onto me!”
And then she flies off the couch. A second later I hear her door slam shut.
I stare after her.
I’m shaking.
I lift one hand off the sofa seat and bring it in front of my face.
I can’t keep it still.
I take a breath and touch my lips. I can still feel the imprint of Summer’s there.
Then I look across to the hall, where she disappeared.
“Shit!” I curse. Her reaction at the end… fuck, she must feel humiliated.
Shit, shit, shit!
And there I am, the idiot who asked her to keep kissing me. But just like her, I had to, had to know:
Could her feelings be mutual?
They’re not.
No, they are not, and it saddens me, and it angers me, that I could be so thoughtless as to play with her emotions—her deepest, truest feelings—play with them and treat them with so little care as to be discarded as an experiment.
A wave of disgust rifles through me. Directed solely at myself.
I push off the couch. I approach Summer’s door. I get to it and hear distant sobbing.
My gut clenches hard. Shit, I feel horrible.
I rap my knuckles against the door softly. “Summer? Sweetie, can I come in?”
Her reply takes a second or two longer than it should. But when she speaks, her voice is firm and steady. “No.”
“Please?” I ask. “I need to see you.”
“Why?” she asks. Now there’s venom in her voice. “So you can embarrass me once more?”
I mutter a string of profanities. “No, Summer—that’s not what I ever meant.”
“It’s what you did,” she fires through the wooden barrier. “Give me—just give me some time, Celeste. I’ll come out when I’m ready.”
“Okay,” I say softly. “I’ll be waiting in the living room.”
I wait for her response.
She doesn’t give one.
I sigh and turn back. When I sit down, I reach automatically for my phone. Just a habit, I guess. I pull up Safari and start browsing the net. Anything, really, to kill some time.
As I’m holding it, however, a message comes through.
James: Where the FUCK are you, woman?
17.
I drop my phone from sheer surprise.
“Dammit.” I reach down and get it from the floor. I consider my hands. They’re still shaking. I can barely hold the screen steady enough to read anything.
A second message arrives.
James: Well??
When I don’t answer immediately, the phone starts to ring.
I hit ‘decline’ and put it on silent.
“I’ll deal with you later,” I mutter. First I have to take care of my former—current? Have we reconciled things enough?—best friend.
I shove the device under the sofa’s pillows and sit on my hands. I wait.
As I’m thinking back, recalling all of Summer’s erratic behavior, from the drinking binges to the sudden-onset hostility, to everything else, and seeing it under a new light, I realize:
She’s not my ‘current’ or ‘former’ best friend. She’s my only.
That makes me want to fix things with her even more.
An hour or so later she comes out. The second she does I’m on my feet.
“Summer,” I start.
“Don’t.” She shakes her head. She gives a disgusted grunt. “Don’t bother, Celeste. Don’t mention it. It’s over. Done.” She walks to the closet and takes out her leather jacket.
“Where are you going?” I ask her.
“I called Alfred. He’s taking me out. I told him I was lonely and horny.”
“But—“
“No buts, Celeste.” Her sharp eyes fall on me. “I’m not mad at you. I just need to get away for a little bit. To…” she circles her hand through the air, “…clear my mind. You know? Get some perspective. I’ll be back tomorrow. We can talk about you then. But not about me.”
With that, she saunters into the hall and closes the door on me for the second time that night.
18.
My phone keeps vibrating under the seat. James won’t let up.
But I don’t want to talk to him. Not now, not yet, not when there’s so much new information in the air.
Summer’s gay. But she pretends that she’s not. Why? I pray it’s not because of me. I would just die if she screwed her whole life over—
Wait. Bad figure of speech. I’m going to die soon anyway, aren’t I?
I give a sour chuckle.
I walk through the apartment. Most of Summer’s things are packed away. I wonder what her plans are for after.
A sudden loud, violent knocking on the door makes me jump.
James’s voice rips through the hall. “Celeste! Celeste, open the door.”
“Fuck!” I curse. How does he know I’m here?
Then again, where else could I go?
Still… fuck!
“Celeste!” The pounding continues. “Open the door, dammit. You are not allowed to block me out like this.”
“Oh, so now I need your permission to do that?” I call back, pissed off and annoyed.
Then my hands fly over my mouth. Dammit, I just confirmed I’m inside!
Argh! I want to pull on my hair and rip it all out.
“Celeste!” James’ voice becomes louder. As does the knocking. “Celeste, open the fucking door. Now!”
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!
“I don’t want to see you!”
The knocking stops. I can imagine him growling on the other side.
And then, to my complete and utter horror, the handle starts to turn.
I’m frozen in place as the door is unlocked and ripped opened. It slams against the wall.
I jump again at the crash.
A furious James stares daggers at me.
My stupor is only momentary. I shake my head to snap out of it and then spring on the offensive.
“What are you doing here?” I demand. “How did you get the fucking key?”
“Watch your language!” he snaps.
I want to laugh. Me, watch my language.
“Answer me!” I exclaim.
James steps in and closes the door. He double-bolts it so no one else can get in. “Keep your voice down. The neighbors are sleeping.”
This time, I do laugh. It’s a full and crude and aggressive sound. “Since when do you give two shits about the neighbors?”
“I do, because if I don’t, I’m going to get kicked out,” he says. His eyes are dark, still, and very, very intimidating.
“Good!” I exclaim. “Maybe I should yell and scream in that case, if it gets you to LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!”
“Language!” James snarls. He stalks toward me. I open my mouth to tell him off, but he clamps his hand over it before I get the chance.
“Let go of me!” I mumble. My words are muffled by his grip.
“I don’t like using force against you,” he hisses. “But if I have to, I will, if it’ll get you to listen to me.”
He looks me right in the eyes. His stare is unwavering and intense. It’s full of fury.
Fury of a kind I’ve never seen in him before.
It frightens me, just a little.
He narrows his eyes. “Okay?” he asks.
“Okay, okay,” I murmur.
He removes his hand slowly, as if he’s lifting the trap door on a caged animal.
I huff and turn my back on him. My insides are rolling with emotions, an entire vile mix of them, but beneath all that, in my heart of hearts, I feel…
Relief.
Relief that James would come for me. Relief that no matter how hard I try to be alone, he won’t let me.
It speaks of his love.
And it makes my love for him grow even more.
“So?” I crash down onto the cou
ch and fold my arms. “What do you want, James?”
He starts toward me, but I stop him with a pointed finger. “Stay,” I command. “Right there. Don’t come closer. Tell me why you came.”
He makes an angry sound in his throat. His hands flex into fists. I can see the muscles of his forearms tighten.
His jaw is set, too. The brightness of his eyes has morphed into a sludgy green. A vein pulses in his neck.
“Why,” he begins, his voice grating, “do you think I came?”
“I don’t want to answer that,” I say. “I know you. You’re going to try to trap me with my words. I ain’t giving you shit, James. You’ll have no ammunition.”
“Ammunition,” he rasps. “That’s how little you value the fact that I care about you? That I love you, Celeste?”
“Don’t,” I warn. “Don’t go there. Now is not the time.”
“Oh, and when is?” he explodes. “I came back to the hospital and found you missing. How do you think I’d react? Nobody would tell me anything. I had to corner a nurse and fucking bribe her to tell me what happened to you.”
I shake my head. I can’t believe that’s all it took.
“How did you get the apartment keys?” I ask.
“Summer gave them to me.”
That takes me by surprise. “What?”
“I bought out the remainder of her lease,” he tells me. “That’s all she wanted. That’s what Angela promised her. Money to pay for the rental agreement so she could ditch this place and find a new one for the rest of the school year.”
I screw up my face. “She didn’t tell me that.”
He opens his hand in a so what gesture.
“Are you certain?” I ask. “Because she and I talked. She told me… a lot.”
“Yes. I’m fucking certain, Celeste. How do you think I came by these?” He dangles the keys in front of him.
I recognize Summer’s keychain. “Wait, when did she give you them? Like, just now?”
“She called and said we had to talk. She met me outside.” He gestures sharply at the window. “I was parked out there waiting for you to pick up your goddamn phone.”
“Shit,” I say weakly. I had no idea she’d go and do something like that.
“She also told me,” James continues, “that she’s going to drop the charges. And she said you were up here, and that you needed me.”
“She said that?”
“Yes,” James confirms. He’s calmed down. The anger isn’t oozing out of him quite so rapidly. “Enough about her. I came here because of you, Celeste.”
“I kind of figured that one out.” My voice drips with sarcasm.
But I can’t help but smile.
To make up for the gaffe, I cross my legs. My body language is still ice cold.
“So?” he asks. “Will you listen to me? Can we talk?”
“Frankly. I don’t see what there is to talk about.” I rise smoothly and walk to the window. I make a wide berth around him. “You know where we stand, James.”
“No,” he emphasizes. “I do not.”
He grips the back of the armchair. His fingers dig into the tough foam.
“Don’t play dumb,” I shoot him a stern look. “I told you exactly what at the hospital.”
“You didn’t mean that,” James stresses.
“I did,” I say. “And I still do.”
“No, Celeste. I’m not letting you get away so easily. Remember when I said I’d fight for you? Well, this is fucking it. And if you think you can dismiss everything we’ve built, all that we have, with one outburst when you were most emotional, you’re wrong.”
“I may have been emotional, but I was still fucking lucid, James.” Heat is entering my voice. “I meant every word I said.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Then you don’t value me as much as you say.”
“And what does that fucking mean?” James roars.
I jump.
“Fuck!” he curses. He runs a hand through his hair. My heart is hammering.
“I’m sorry,” he continues in a more even voice. “It’s just—you’re not even fucking giving me a chance to speak, Celeste.”
“That’s all you’ve been doing,” I counter. “It’s not my fault you’re going around in circles.”
He growls in displeasure.
The sound sends chills running down my spine. It’s the same growl he makes just before he’s about to come.
“Look.” He takes a step toward me. “All I’m saying is that you can’t throw us away just like that. I know you didn’t mean it. If I thought you did, do you think I’d fucking be here?”
“Maybe,” I say. “I’ve seen how stubborn you can get. Especially if your pride is involved.”
“My pride?” he laughs. “Tell me, Celeste, please, how on earth you think my pride has anything to do with it?”
“It’s simple,” I counter. “I broke up with you. It happened on my terms, not yours. You’re not ready to forget me, and you feel the wound from it happening. You’re only here because you want to fix the damage that’s done to your ego.”
He stares at me in disbelief. “Are you serious, Celeste? Is that the best you can come up with? That’s like exactly what I told you about Angela! Do you know how damn juvenile that sounds?”
“No!” I fire back. “Don’t use that term with me. I might be younger than you, but I’m far from naïve.”
“I didn’t say naïve.”
“Naïve, juvenile, it’s all the same thing,” I say harshly. I walk to the door and unbolt the top lock. Then I turn the handle and pull it open. “I think it’s time for you to leave.”
“Close that damn thing,” James hisses. “I’m not going anywhere. Not until you tell me what you’re really doing. Not until you tell me why you think you need to push me away.”
He approaches me slowly, watching my reaction to his every step forward like a hawk.
“Because I can tell you one thing, Celeste…”
He stops before me and gently, but firmly, pushes the door closed.
“I see through your façade, and I know what you’re really scared of. I see because I know you. And I know that you think… of all of this…”
He steps into me, pressing me into the wall.
“I know what you’re doing. You think you’re going to protect me by pushing me away, or some bullshit like that, but I’m telling you now, right now, just like I told you many times before, You are not…”
He leans in.
“…getting rid of me…”
Our lips touch.
“…that easily.”
And completely unflinching against my ice-queen stare, he kisses me.
I try to fight the feelings that immediately burst to life within me: The joy, the happiness, the sheer bliss of being wanted by a man like this. The lust, the passion, the energy that flows into me right away from his scorching touch. The arousal that blossoms in my stomach and quickly moves to all other parts of my body. The need. The all-consuming, soul-scorching, obliterating need that James’s kiss rips open in me.
I try to fight it, to deny those most-natural feelings, but I already know it’s a lost cause.
My lips part for James by themselves.
It’s natural, it’s spontaneous, and it’s what feels right.
My lips part, and he deepens the kiss. His hands stay firmly around my waist. Mine itch to explore his body, but I can’t—I can’t give in to sensation more than I already have. I can’t be a slave to arousal.
Yet arousal tears through me like a river bursting over the edge of a cliff. James’s heated kiss, so full of passion, so full of need and lust, it fills me with life.
It’s the precious nectar I need to keep going.
So I kiss him back. I kiss him back, and for the moment, say fuck the consequences. I don’t care. Fuck everything else. More is said in his kiss than in the combination of all the caring words he spoke to me. I know of his passion here. I can feel
his love.
If I fight, I’ll only lose out on this. And if he wants to tie himself to a dying woman…? Well fuck. Maybe in that case, I won’t try to hasten my descent into the grave.
James breaks away gasping. His eyes are glazed over with lust. My cheeks are flushed, and my lips feel battered and bruised.
“Do you see now?” he whispers. “Do you see why I can’t let you get away?”
“No,” I tell him. He begins to scowl, but I quickly follow up. “No, James, I fucking don’t, and I think you’re an absolute idiot for not wanting to, but I’m…” I reach up and scrape my nails over his back. “I’m not about to protest anymore.”
19.
I suck in a deep breath as James enters me. He slides into my slick folds slowly, obviously holding back. And even though I’m turned on, even though I want this, my body is not quite ready given all that I’ve been through.
I squeeze my eyes shut and hold on to his shoulders. He pushes his hips forward, his cock tight against my walls. I hold on to him tighter. I don’t want to show my discomfort. I know how important this is to him, given all that we’ve been through.
He won’t fuck me hard. I know he won’t, because I know he knows my body better than I do. He can tell when it’s receptive to him and when it’s… not.
When it can’t possibly be because of the cancer.
But without any way of truly telling how many days we have left, I want the experience to count.
“You okay?” James whispers in my ear. He’s all the way in, now.
I bite my lip and nod against his neck.
“I’ll go slow, baby,” he promises. His hips draw back then press forward again in one long, smooth stroke.
I moan.
He does it again. I sigh into his ear. My hot breaths against his skin make his cock twitch and harden.
He starts building a rhythm as I lie there on my back, clinging onto him. I want to lose myself in the bliss, but just accepting him is hard enough as it is.
My whole body feels strung tight. It’s frail and weak, and on the verge of breaking. Brittle.
But I compartmentalize all that discomfort to grant myself—and James—the one precious moment. It’s not about pleasure for me, because that is not within reach in my current state.
Uncovering You: The Complete Series (Mega Box Set) Page 156