Wilson Mooney Eighteen at Last

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Wilson Mooney Eighteen at Last Page 22

by Gretchen de La O


  Nick looked at me before looking at his phone. His eyes told a story of regret before he tapped the screen and read the text messages from Calvin—out loud.

  “Thanks for letting me know Wilson is okay,” Nick read slowly.

  “I’m not okay...”

  “Wilson, he’s responding to my earlier text, when you passed out.”

  “Then what does the second text say?”

  Nick glanced at me before tapping and sliding his finger to the second text from Calvin.

  “Burying…dad…tomorrow…memorial…after…more…details…later,” Nick spoke each world slowly. His face dropped white. His finger was still frozen above the phone as he looked up at me.

  Suddenly I was sober. I felt the lines in my face deepen and the muscles in my neck constrict. My heart stuttered for the loss of not being a part of Max’s family—something I wanted more than air. My eyes welled with tears over thoughts of Max going on without me. My lungs crumpled under the pressure and I lost my breath. From the crown of my head to the soles of my feet, a crushing charge of freezing loneliness hammered through my entire body.

  Nick noticed how much the cluster of words in Calvin’s text drowned me in a language of loss and pain.

  “I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have read it out loud,” Nick said as his eyes wandered back to mine from the screen of his phone.

  My body was vibrating, ready and willing to collapse in the vacant hole reserved for moments like this. I struggled to hold myself together and respond.

  “I—needed to hear—it. Now I understand—the Goldstein’s don’t want me there. I get it,” I struggled to form my words as tears streamed down my cheeks. It felt like a huge meteor had blasted through my chest and every ounce of my life splashed and poured out, dissolving before I had a chance to mold it into something more than a misplaced moment. Max had gone on without me…I knew he would, I’m not that stupid, but it still hurts.

  Nick pushed closer to me. His arms weighed heavy across my shoulders as he pulled me against his chest. I felt his mouth push against the side of my head.

  “You didn’t need to hear it that way. I am really sorry I upset you,” Nick whispered. The heat of his words brushed delicately against the edges of my ear.

  “It’s not—your—fault. Nobody’s texting me. Nobody is keeping me informed about what’s going on over there. It’s like they’re ashamed of me.”

  “Well, I don’t want to cause you—any more pain,” he mumbled as he pulled away and the cold reclaimed my body. With his hand in mine, Nick pulled me toward the kitchen. He looked back, his dark brown eyes met mine, and immediately I felt a longing pull, low in my stomach.

  “Wilson, I know you have a lot to think about, and the last thing I’d want to do is make anything worse for you,” Nick said.

  He was right—I did have a lot to think about, more than I really wanted to. But it wasn’t Nick’s fault Max hadn’t come for me; that he’d decided to go on without me.

  “Well, you haven’t made anything worse. Actually, I really appreciate everything you’ve done for me,” I said.

  “For you—I’d do it over and over again, in a heartbeat,” he mumbled as he forced his hands into his front pockets.

  “Thanks—it’s comforting knowing you’re here for me,” I said quietly.

  He shrugged, brushing me off. I pulled his chin so he’d look me in the eyes. Suddenly he didn’t appear so off-limits to me, and I was feeling the numbness I was craving. When he let go of my stare, I felt my heart tug from the space in my chest reserved for Max, and I didn’t expect it to skip a beat like it did.

  Overwhelmed by my physical response, I playfully shoved him and he stumbled backward. Faster than lightning, he snatched my arm and pulled me along with him; I felt my weight shift as my face pressed into his chest. He tried to balance himself by leaning forward and wrapping his arms around the small of my back. I closed my eyes and inhaled the aroma of Aspen from the fibers of his shirt. Immediately, everything I loved about Max flashed through my mind, but everything I ached for dangled in Nick’s embrace. I felt every muscle in his body release, and suddenly, he was comfortable. I nuzzled my face into the bend of his neck. I felt his chin tighten against my head as he took a deep, guarded breath and exhaled my name slowly.

  Tears began to build in my eyes. I lightly rubbed my face against his t-shirt before I held my lips to that space, right where his jaw met his neck. His body tightened and I tasted his skin. I felt his heart pound heavy against my lips; instantly, I felt my body react.

  Nick froze as I inched away, like he didn’t know if what was happening was intentional or not. I didn’t want to know. I didn’t want to swallow the guilt of making this about me, or worry if this was something I truly wanted.

  Who was I kidding? I just wanted him to dull my pain; I needed him to make everything go away. I stretched up and pressed my lips to the corner of his mouth—they were so soft, so inviting. I felt his reluctance as I pushed harder. He slid his hands up my biceps. I wanted him to cling to me, fix me, make me forget about the lack of control I had over my life.

  He ran his hands up to my shoulders. I wanted to feel his palms heat the sides of my face and his fingers to press around the back of my neck; instead I felt the pressure of him pushing me away. Cold air flooded my lips, my heart tumbled down into my stomach, and his warmth disappeared from my skin. I opened my eyes in time to see his head sway and drop down away from me. He held his fingers broodingly against his lips. He took a step away from me as guilt clung heavy to his shoulders. Tears flooded my eyes; embarrassed, I lowered my head. I couldn’t look at him.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  What the hell am I doing? Is it fair to fill the holes I have for Max in my soul, with Nick? I could feel the swirling dizziness come back as I pushed past him and stumbled for the guest room—the one place I could stay until Joanie came to get me. I got as far as the refrigerator before I felt his hand clutch my arm and pull me back around to him. His cagey, brown eyes blazed as they studied my face. His eyebrows caved in, his lips dropped to a frown.

  Nick bent close and studied my expression—every inch of messed up that I was. A pressure crawled up my spine. I didn’t want to hear how much I’d hurt him; how I’d become the tease I never wanted to be. Everything was so intense, so intoxicating, like the alcohol had taken me to a place where inhibition didn’t exist. But he kept staring at me as if his eyes were soaking in every curve of my face. His lips were tight, like he wanted to say something, and his eyes danced somewhere between smoldering and glacial.

  “Fuck it,” he growled as his scorching hands cradled me under my jaw and around my ears. His biceps flexed as he pulled me to his mouth, and his body pushed definitively against mine. His kiss was wild with intention. He took a step into me and I stumbled back until he pressed me up against the refrigerator. Our bodies vibrated with the energy surging between us. I felt the butterflies, usually reserved for Max, move but they didn’t take flight. A primal need stirred deep within me as I dragged my hands up across his back. He bent lower and pressed his lips to the space between my jaw and neck. All the while, I couldn’t stop visions of Max from flooding my mind. Nick’s mouth pulsed against my skin and I felt our bodies agree to the rhythm he was creating, even when I knew it wasn’t right.

  I raised my chin, wanting him to carry on provoking me with the heat that coursed from his mouth. His lips traced my jawline to the edge of my ear, pulling and nibbling on my earlobe. Chills migrated from my core through my head and back again. We didn’t look at each other. I didn’t want to see the reflection of what we were about to do, or the hope it created in his dark brown eyes.

  Nick made a voiceless attempt to explain what he wanted as he pressed his soft, open mouth against mine. I felt his hands heat either side of my face as he lightened his kiss before pressing hard against my lips again. I needed him to inhale my pain and take it away. I tilted my head, making his mouth follow as our tongues entwined, slow and defin
ite. I tasted how much I wanted to cave into him. The rhythm of his tongue sped up, and at that moment, I knew how long he had wanted to kiss me like that. With my body still pressed against the refrigerator, he pushed harder, and instantly it felt gratifying to be desired.

  He dragged his lips across my cheek; I could hear his visceral breathing as he pressed his mouth to the space below my ear and moaned. My breath faltered.

  He pushed my arms up above my head and I held them there as he dragged his hands down the insides, tickling me gently. My breathing became shallow as he mapped his way down my neck. He kissed across my collarbone and down to where my shirt dipped, exposing the space just above my breasts. When he pressed his mouth there, everything dropped south. My hands tangled in his brown curls and my knees gave way, just enough to feel his rigid groin rub hard against me. I felt his breath release, hot against my skin, as he growled and I recognized this was leading to something more than just kissing. I pulled his hair just enough to get his attention. I felt his entire body rise and push against me as his lips pressed tightly against mine. He swayed his hips against me, and without thinking, I pushed back.

  “What the hell is going on here?” I heard someone yell from behind us.

  My eyes sprang open as the voice pulled me out of the heated moment. Nick pulled away from our kiss as he twisted around. Cold air rushed my mouth and my heart pounded quickly when I realized the person who walked in on us was Cindy. An emptiness ripped across my body. What the hell have I done? I’m not this type of girl.

  “What the fuck, Cindy?” Nick cursed as he stood between his sister and me. Cindy positioned herself determinedly, letting him know she was prepared to win a fight of words. It looked like her feet were being swallowed by her ginormous, pink, shaggy fur boots as she scampered toward Nick. Her stretchy, white ski pants made her legs look like skinny toothpicks tumbling to the floor as she walked.

  “Don’t curse at me! I’m not the one with my tongue stuck down my friend’s throat,” Cindy spat at Nick. “And Wilson—what are you doing here in Aspen anyway? Couldn’t you find a different family to infect?”

  Her words sliced across me and my guts poured from the gaping holes she carved out of my body.

  “You better watch your mouth, Cindy. You’ve never acted like a friend to Wilson,” Nick spat back.

  “Obviously. Friends don’t lie and friends don’t sneak back to Aspen to make out with your brother behind your back,” Cindy snarled.

  “You have no idea what friends are. You only have investments and acquaintances,” Nick steamed.

  “I have plenty of friends; I don’t need some wretched, gold-digging charity case—”

  “Back off,” Nick growled and took a step toward Cindy.

  Seeing how he was falling for her same old bullshit, I grabbed his bicep and tugged. He turned back to me and our eyes clung to one another’s.

  “Let it go,” I whispered.

  I watched the anger in his face dissolve and the tension in his shoulders drop as I lowered my hand down his arm and into his hand. For a lingering moment, it was just Nick and me.

  There was nothing from Cindy; she just stood there with her mouth gaping wide open. She must have believed Nick and I were together.

  God I don’t want to go there, but if Cindy believes I’m involved with Nick, then at least I can salvage one thing from this catastrophe—Max will be safe at Wesley. Whether or not we are together, at least I won’t have the guilt of him losing his job over me.

  I leaned against Nick, trying to prompt him to smooth the waters with his sister. He cleared his throat, working to reclaim his calm manner.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  “My father texted me about Frank Goldstein’s funeral. I guess he wants us to go and represent the Browlers. I had to cancel my trip to New York…so much for a vacay with my Seasonals,” Cindy whined as she pranced to the counter with her hand clutched to her hip. Her poufy, pink shag boots swayed as if they were characters from a Sunday morning cartoon. She pushed her shoulders back and her body language played her off as confident and totally unaffected. It was as if Nick and I weren’t even there; she had become a whole different person. Her eyes glazed with a vacuity that she reserved for strangers and the unworthy.

  Every muscle in my body tensed, every drop of saliva in my mouth dried up, and even my ears started to ring with a faint buzz, building upon the anticipation of the massive explosion Cindy was about to create—like a firework that fizzled out before it went off.

  Nick and I waited without taking a breath, waiting for the blast of her anger to surge and take over the room.

  “I hope you know what you’re doing Nnn-ick,” Cindy snapped.

  Nick tightened his hand around mine and replied, “I know exactly what I am doing.”

  Cindy sauntered past us, like a shark gliding through the water, waiting for the perfect opportunity to kill.

  Cindy’s eyes constricted before she tapped her manicured finger deliberately against her chin, leaned toward me, and whispered, “I’m so confused…what about Matt Gladstone?” She thrust her hands in the air as her fingers wiggled to make air quotes around Max’s fake name.

  She leaned away from me, her eyes evil and satisfied, like she’d been waiting to say that for a month. My heart fell into the pit of my stomach. I could feel the anxiety fill my lungs. My mouth began to water and I knew I only had seconds before I was going to vomit. Holy shit, she figured out that’s the name I gave Max on my phone. Oh my God, she knows about Max and me.

  The next thing I heard was Cindy slamming the front door. I ran to the bathroom across from the kitchen, and barely made it before everything in my stomach came back up.

  Leaning against the toilet, I felt humiliated, scared, and caught. I just wanted the last hour to disappear. As a matter of fact, if the last couple of days would vanish, I’d be a hell of a lot better. I wanted to crawl into the toilet bowl and push the handle to flush myself down. I wanted to escape my life, become someone else—the someone who was still valid in Max’s eyes. When I looked up and saw Nick standing over me, I puked again.

  “You okay?” he asked. He gently caressed my back in circles with his warm hand.

  “She knows about Max,” I said before my body lurched forward and I dry-heaved the acid left in my stomach.

  I can’t believe that my whole life has culminated into the last 15 minutes. I’m hugging the toilet like it’s my long lost friend and I’m puking my guts out. I’ve lost the only guy I’ve ever loved, and my best friend is nowhere to be seen. I couldn’t stop from wallowing in the jumble of my nasty cry and the burning rising in my esophagus; I wished my stomach would stop churning.

  Every muscle in my body ached as I pushed myself up to the sink, rinsed out my mouth and powered past Nick. Suddenly, I felt my feet slamming against the hickory wood floor as I blasted out of the bathroom and ran toward the staircase. Every thought of what just happened hammered across my mind. Every moment of regret swelled in my chest, and all the feelings of what I lost ripped me apart. I couldn’t move fast enough; I couldn’t escape the haunting feeling of everyone I’d hurt by my actions. I’d used Nick, betrayed Max, and disappointed Nancy. My breath caught in the paralyzing fear of hurting everyone I loved. Oh, where’s Joanie?

  Before I knew it, I was locking the bedroom door and tossing myself across the bed. There was nothing I could do to get the last fifteen minutes back. I couldn’t explain away what Cindy had seen on my phone, or blame our kiss on Nick this time. It had been what I wanted, what I thought would heal the deep ache that was drowning me. I was tumbling to the lowest point I’d ever been in my life. I lay, wrecked, as cries that came from my diaphragm, cracked like lightning in my ears, and rumbled like thunder across my body. Drowning would have been easier than the storm that wreaked havoc throughout my soul. What have I done?

  Everything from the moment I got on the plane to Aspen twisted and knotted in my gut. Thoughts of every experience that c
arried any significance flooded my mind. The excitement of my birthday, the fear of the helicopter ride, Frank’s death, Max making love to me, and my abandoning him when he needed me most. I’d betrayed Max by making out with Nick, and now Cindy had walked in on me kissing her brother.

  How was I ever going to face Max again? How was I going to go back to Wesley and sit in his class after this fiasco? He would never forgive me. I felt every muscle in my body give up as I sobbed into the pillow.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  If Nick knocked on my door or tried to talk to me, I wouldn’t have known. I hit the bed that night, crying into my pillow, and everything after that was a blur. I didn’t wake up magically in my pajamas or tucked under the covers; I woke up in my clothes, spread across the bed, on my stomach. My head felt like it had been smashed with a thousand bricks, and my hair was so grungy I could only guess what the dried-up stuff was, causing all those natty clumps.

  The room swirled as I dragged myself to the edge of the bed. I sat up, rocking, as I drowned in a cold sweat and struggled with a wicked case of dry mouth. All I wanted to do was to wait for my best friend to come and save me. I needed to forget about kissing Nick, and Cindy walking in on us.

  God, how far would Nick and I have gone if Cindy hadn’t interrupted us? Would I have kept going, just so I could feel something other than the damage of losing Max? Maybe if Nick didn’t have the aroma of Aspen in the fibers of his shirt, I could have walked away. I needed Joanie to peel me up off the floor and protect me from the colossal damage that was steamrolling through my head.

  There was a slight knock at the door before I heard the lock click and it slowly swung open. The minute my eyes met Joanie’s it was as if, finally, I didn’t have to hold it together anymore. I let go of all the pain I had pressed down deep within my gut. My eyes swelled with tears, my ears filled with the pressure of trying to keep from crying, and my head pounded from inside out.

 

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