by Beck, J. L.
My heart is racing, and my breathing is shallow now that we're face to face. He’s still angry, nothing but hate and sadness reflecting in his eyes. It's then looking at him, seeing those emotions swirl that I realize I’m not mad at him. I don't hate him for doing this.
I couldn't, not even if I wanted to. Instead, I feel something entirely different…I feel remorse. I feel sorry that this is what he has turned into, sorry that there is no love in his life, that he's lost the light, the kindness he once had.
Feeling a need to bring back that man, I grasp onto his shirt, grabbing a handful of the fabric, pulling him even closer while lifting up my head from the mattress. I don’t think. I simply press my lips to his and kiss him. His lips are warm, and I inhale his scent, diving headfirst into the emotions he's pulling deep from inside me.
My mouth fuses to his, a hunger clawing at my belly. The sweet innocent kisses we shared before when we were kids is nothing compared to this kiss. This kiss holds a need, a possessiveness I want to grab onto.
Remington deepens the kiss and for a moment, I forget about how hurt we are, how angry we’ve been over losing each other. For a moment, we’re the same people we used to be using the strength of our kiss to say things neither of us ever could.
But the moment passes just as quickly as it started and within seconds, he's pulling away, his lips swollen, his chest heaving. I catch a flicker of confusion that mirrors my own in his eyes before he jumps off the bed, immediately turning his back to me. I can hear him fastening his pants back up. I’m shocked, my thoughts disheveled, but one thing sticks out in my mind. I don't want what we just shared to end already.
“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice weak. I don't want him to go, I don't want him to run away from me, not after I've caught a glimpse of the boy I once knew. I stare at his broad shoulders, his muscles rippling beneath his shirt, his body full of tension.
He wasn't expecting the kiss, or my reaction to him and maybe that's what he needs, to be shocked. I don't really know, but I can't let go of what happened. I'm waiting for an answer, but it never comes, and though I'm not surprised, I am hurt.
“Don’t go!” I order, but he’s already out the door, slamming it closed shut behind him, leaving me sitting on the bed naked from the waist down with nothing but the memory of his lips on mine. What did we just do? When I feel like my legs are steady enough to hold my weight, I slide off the bed and pick up my discarded clothes. Just as I’m pulling my panties up, the door flies open again.
Cally stands in the doorway her mouth gaping open, betrayal and hurt in her now cold gaze. “You knew I liked him! How could you do this to me? I thought you were my friend.”
“It's not like that, Cally.” And it’s not. She wouldn’t understand that though. No one would. No one knows of the past we share.
She crosses her arms over her chest, and I can tell she doesn't believe me. I reach for my yoga pants, feeling slightly exposed and a bit humiliated. I start to pull them on when she starts to talk again.
“Yeah, right,” she scoffs. “Because he was in here a really long time, and you're missing a lot of clothes for someone who didn’t just get laid. I really thought better of you, I guess I was wrong.” She turns around and leaves and for a second time tonight, my door is slammed shut.
I sag back down onto my mattress, feeling as if I'll never do anything right again. Remington is out to break my heart all over again and Cally thinks I betrayed her.
I shake my head, thinking of my brother and father at that moment. I wish Jackson was still alive. He would give me the advice I need, he would kick Remington's ass for acting the way he is. But he's gone and so is my father, and with nowhere else to turn, I do the only thing I can do…I cry.
5
Remington
I speed-walk across campus, even though my heart is racing as if I’m running at full speed. My mind reeling, my thoughts in complete disarray.
What the fuck just happened?
I don’t understand. I was there to teach her a lesson, to hurt her, to rip her heart out like she ripped out mine. Everything I did, everything I said to her, was supposed to lead to her hating me as much as I hate her. I wanted to see the same pain in her eyes that I’m feeling…that I feel every single time, I look at her. Instead she looked at me with pity and regret.
Then she kissed me, fucking kissed me.
And the worst part of all...I kissed her back.
I fucking kissed her. I haven't kissed anyone in three years. I can’t count how many girls I’ve fucked in that time, but I have never kissed a single one of them. Kissing is too personal, it’s what people do when they want to get close, remember the person and if there is one thing I don’t want to do with anyone, it is to get close…and especially not with her, not again.
Why the fuck did I kiss her back?
I hate her, don’t I? My brain tells me I do, but my heart tells me different. My heart tells me I’m angry, confused… but not that I hate her. I lick my lips, her taste still lingering there. My mind wants to scrub that taste from my mouth, while my body wants to revel in it. My thoughts are cluttered with images of her and I need to clear my fucking head and get her out of my mind once and for all.
I try and think about anything but her lips, her eyes piercing mine, the way her pussy clenched around my fingers so tight I thought I was going to die. I crossed a line, one I never crossed with any woman before tonight. I never forced myself on someone, not that I really had to force myself on Jules, it was clear she was more than interested in me, it just was the way I went about it, taking from her, using her body without permission.
It was wrong. It was right. It was fucked up.
As much as I wanted to hurt her, there was no way I could’ve fucked her without her permission. I wanted to hurt her, rip her heart out, but I didn’t want to commit a crime to do it. I liked my women willing, but she didn’t have to know that, she could’ve been thinking I was going to do it the whole time, and she probably was, up until she flipped over and looked into my eyes. She always had the power to see right through me.
Fuck. I fist my hair in my hands in frustration, pulling tightly at the locks wishing they could give me the answers I need. Why can’t she just go away? Her memory haunts me and now she’s more than a memory, she’s here, right under my nose ruining me all over again.
I pull out my cell, the group chat with all the guys pops up telling me I have over twenty missed notifications, but I don’t care. The bet is the last thing going through my mind right now. I want to win, but I’m concerned about the effect that Jules has on me, and I need to get that shit in order before I even try and fuck her.
The thought of fucking her turns my cock to steel. I’ve wanted her since we were teenagers, and I could’ve had her so many times over. I wanted her to be my first, my last, my always. I grit my teeth. I need to find a way to forget her, to forget her memory. I’ve tried everything over the years - pussy, beer, weed. Nothing has ever dislodged her from my mind.
Focusing my attention on my phone, I find Cally’s name and shoot her a text. I know she’s not my bet, but finding out she was Jules’ roommate only added to the fun. Now I have an in, into Jules’ life, into making her as miserable as possible. I ask Cally to meet me at the diner for breakfast tomorrow and to no surprise she replies right away, telling me she would love to.
When I get to the house, all the guys are in the living room drinking beer. I grab two from the fridge, chugging one right away to settle my nerves, while sitting down with the second one. I’m consumed with a need to find a cure for her memory. I have to let go of the past we shared, and I can’t think of a quicker way than getting hammered drunk with the guys. It’s not a cure, but it will do for now. I down the second beer, and then another, and another until I’m five beers in a buzz finally starting to kick in.
“You okay, Rem?” Thomas asks, concern etched into his features as he eyes the beer cans sitting on the table in front of me. Typically, I
don’t drink that much, and especially not on school nights, but tonight I need all the beer I can get.
I nod my head, hating that for once I’m forced to lie to my friends.
“Never been better, Tom. Never been better.”
* * *
There’s a throbbing behind my eyes that refuses to go away. It feels like I got ran over by a truck last night, and then it backed up and drove over me again. My muscles are stiff, and my stomach is churning. Drinking half a fridge full of beer probably wasn’t the best idea but it sure as shit got the job done. By the end of the night I wasn’t thinking about Jules, matter of fact, I didn't think about anything because it wasn’t long until I was blacked out on the living room floor. Not one of my most flattering moments, I suppose.
After a quick shower, teeth brushing and change of clothes I’m feeling better. I walk into the diner and cringe, the bell above the door seems ten times louder today than it ever has before. Surveying the booths, I spot Cally sitting at a table by the window, she lifts her gaze to me, a bright smile on her lips. I walk over to where she is sitting and slide into the seat across from her.
“Hi.” Her high pitch voice pierces my ears and I bite my tongue withholding the need to tell her to shut up. That, of course, wouldn’t help my cause so instead I fight through the throbbing in my head and pretend to be interested in whatever she has to say.
“Hey, sorry I stormed out last night.” I give her a soft smile. I need her to believe that I’m sorry that I intended to come over to see her and not Jules.
“Oh, it’s okay,” she says, but the frown on her face tells me she is anything but okay.
“Did Jules say something? About what happened last night?”
Cally’s frown deepens further and it’s painfully obvious she doesn’t want to talk about her roommate with me. But being the asshole I am, I couldn’t care less what she wants.
“She didn’t say anything last night, not really. We kind of had a falling out. I guess she wasn’t as good of a friend as I thought she was.” She sighs, shrugging her shoulders as if she’s disappointed.
Don’t I know how that feels. I don’t say shit though. My beef with Jules is mine alone, and if anyone gets to hate her, it’s me.
“It’s just shitty since we even let her stay for free with us. I should kick her out, but I would feel horrible doing so since her brother and father just died…”
Wait, what? That catches my attention and I slowly blink, trying to comprehend what I just heard. Cally continues talking, but I can’t understand the words that are coming out of her mouth, not after what she just said. For a moment I’m frozen in my seat, and everything around me blurs.
Jackson. Her father. Dead.
“Are you okay?” Cally drags me back to reality after a moment. “You look a little pale.”
“Did she say that?” I almost yell at Cally, but somehow keep the tremor out of my voice. She doesn’t need to know the effect Jules has on me.
“Say what?” She wrinkles her nose.
“Did Jules tell you that her brother died?” I clarify, speaking slowly so she can understand me better.
“Ah, yes, that’s why she moved here after the semester started, at least that’s what she told me. Wouldn’t be surprised if she’s lying though, since talking to her yesterday...”
“Do you know where Jules is right now?”
“Bio lab, I think, why?”
I slide out of the seat and start walking away.
“What…what are you doing? What’s wrong? Did I say something? Don’t tell me you called me here to get closer to her,” Cally calls after me, frustration coating her words, but I don’t bother turning around. I’ve got all the information I need from her. She’s Cole’s problem now.
As I walk out of the diner, all I can think is that she is lying.
Jules is lying, she has to be. Jackson isn’t dead…he can’t be. I hated them both equally when they left but finding out your ex-best friend might be dead. Yeah, that’s a kick to the fucking balls, and because of this little stunt, Jules has earned herself another session with me. I jog across campus to get to the biology building. I need to confront her right fucking now I don’t care if she’s in class, fuck I don't care if she’s in the middle of her fucking final.
No one will pay me any attention. I do what I want when I want. The professors turn a blind eye to all the bad shit I do, and believe me, I do a lot of bad shit. But what teacher in this school wants to lose out on all that extra cash my dad is pouring into this place.
By the time I get to the lab, the anger inside of me has built up and I’m damn near ready to explode. I rip the door open and stomp into the lab. I scan the classroom. I can feel eyes on me, but I only care about the big blue ones, connected to a heart-shaped face, framed with blonde curls in the last row.
“Why would you fucking lie about something like this?” I curl my lip and stomp through the classroom heading straight for her. Her eyes go impossibly wide and her expression holds nothing but confusion. Always lying...always playing innocent. One day it’s going to get her hurt… one fucking day.
“Telling people your brother is dead? What kind of sick fucking joke is that? Why the fuck would you lie about something like that?” Steam is billowing from my ears, and I want to smash my fist through something, destroy the room, break a desk or three. This woman brings out the worst in me, the absolute worst.
She gets up, gathering her things, ignoring me as if I didn’t just yell at her in front of an entire classroom full of people. Hushed whispers fill the room as silence blankets us.
“Answer me,” I shout, slamming my fist down on the first desk it connects with. Gasps fill the room and I see the professor out of the corner of my eye watching me. If she’s smart, she will keep her fucking mouth shut.
Jules starts walking toward me, and I have to remind myself to calm down. Breathe. Don’t react. Just breathe. She pushes past me and walks out of the building and I let her, afraid that if I grab her now, things might end badly. Following behind her, my feet slap against the pavement.
Who the fuck does she think she is?
She makes me insane, with need, with anger...I’m losing my damn mind because of her. It doesn’t take long for me to catch up to her and when I do, I can’t stop myself. I grab her by the shoulders, my fingers wrapped so tight around her slender arms I’m sure I’ll leave bruises.
I don’t want to hurt her, not physically at least, but she’s driving me mad. She closes her eyes as if she can’t fathom looking at me, but I need her to fucking look at me. I need to see the look in her eyes when she tells me the truth.
“Open your fucking eyes and tell me why you would lie? Why would you make up something like that? It’s fucking pathetic, even for someone like you.” I shake her small body, her silky blonde curls escape from behind her ears and her big eyes blink open.
Her gaze locks with mine and that’s when I see it. The pain, the anger, and loss all staring back at me. It’s heartbreaking the way she’s looking at me and I want to pull her into my arms, kiss her and tell her everything is going to be okay.
“I didn’t lie, Jackson is dead,” she says quietly, her voice breaking at the end.
I can feel a wave of grief and sadness building up, ready to crash over me, but I push it away. Not ready to face all of that yet, I let anger overcome me instead and I release her with a shove. She stumbles backward and I almost reach out for her again to steady her, but instead, I shove my hands into my pockets to stop myself.
“And you didn't think that I deserved to know? Why wouldn't you tell me that my best friend is dead?”
She laughs, but it’s not laughter she’s emitting, it’s pain, thick and heavy. “Oh, when would you have liked me to do that, Remington? When you ordered me to stay out of your way and you acted like we didn’t know each other or maybe when you told me not to call you by the name I’ve called you since I was five? Oooo, maybe when you had your fingers deep inside me or when yo
u all but told me to leave you the fuck alone or face the consequences? Please, tell me, which time should I have dropped that fucking bomb on you?”
My teeth grind together, and for once in my fucking life, I don’t know what to fucking say. I’ve been beating her down with my words, trying my best to make her feel as weak as she makes me feel, and this whole time she’s been suffering the loss of her brother, my best fucking friend. Losing Jackson was almost as tough as losing Jules, she had my heart, had me wrapped around her tiny little finger.
“He was my best friend…” I say more to myself than her.
“Yeah, so was I but you seem to have forgotten that part of your life.” She shoves at my chest to get me out of the way, her touch zings through me, restarting my heart and I listen to her feet, every step, as she walks farther and farther away from me.
Her footsteps sound just like they did all those years ago when she walked away, hollow, leaving a gaping hole inside my chest.
It takes me a long moment to regain my composure. Tears sting my eyes. I look around wiping at my eyes. I don’t fucking cry, and I haven’t since the day they both left me. I think about Jules, about the pain I’m causing her, about my revenge, about my own selfish needs. I’ve only ever loved her…her and my mother, and my mother never came back for my brothers and me, she’s never even fucking called.
Jules, she’s here now…but how can I forgive her for leaving me in the first place?
I’ve never been so conflicted in my life…so out of control.
I can’t let go of the pain. I can’t be weak by giving into her touch, her tears, her angelic face. But the thought of hurting her more than she’s already been hurt sickens me.