Deepen The Kiss

by Willow Winters

  I run my hand over my face, wishing this wasn’t fucking happening.

  Finally, I look back down at her sleeping peacefully, and I give up.

  I wrap her up in the throw and grab her jeans and underwear. She’s so light in my arms as I take her upstairs. It’s not hard to find her room. The door’s open.

  I lay her on the bed, and she doesn’t move an inch. The only sign of life is her steady breathing.

  She must’ve been exhausted. She’s not wearing her underwear, and I don’t like that. I don’t want her thinking anything happened. Her legs are way fucking heavier with her not helping me, but I pull on her lacy underwear and then nestle the covers around her.

  I wish I could get into bed with her.

  But this is her sister’s house, and I’m not staying here with the hopes of getting a morning lay.

  I take one last look at my sweetheart before heading out.

  THE SOUND of the driver’s side door shutting to my Porsche disrupts the peaceful quiet of the night. I hit the clicker, filling the cold air with a quiet beep beep as I walk into my house. It’s late. I left Sandra’s house about thirty minutes ago and took a slow ride home, not in any rush to get back.

  I’m still processing everything that happened. It’s like a dream.

  I touch my fingers to my lips and I can still faintly taste her. My sweetheart. I can’t let her go this time.

  I can’t fucking believe she passed out on me. I shoulda known she’d be a lightweight.

  But damn she felt good to hold. The smell and feel of her. The taste.

  My dick starts hardening again, and I have to force the images out of my head. I’m not fucking jerking off. The next time I cum it’s gonna be inside her. She’s mine. Just like she’s always been.

  I know she’s going to play hard to get, but nowadays I get what I want. She can try to run, but it’s not going to work this time.

  A chuckle rises up my chest as I walk to the door feeling more life in me than I have in years, remembering how we first met.

  I’d just started my car and was warming it up on a snowy day when I saw her leaving school. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen her. I knew she was younger than me. She was gorgeous, such a sweet, shy girl with an innocence about her that drew me to her.

  Her brunette hair was whipping in her face as she walked out into the snow off the worn path on the sidewalk and across the street. I watched her out of curiosity. I remember how her cheeks were so red from the cold, and her nose, too. But she looked so fucking beautiful with that baggy sweater she always wore.

  I wanted more. As a kid, I never dared to want anything. But I craved her touch, even just a glance from her.

  She hustled across the street and didn’t even see the black ice until it was too late. I was out of my car just as she landed hard on the ice, her palms slamming against the cold hard ground. Fuck, it hurt just watching. What was worse was that the bottom of her bag split from the impact, and her books were falling out. They weren’t scattered or ruined, but still. She needed help.

  She sat wincing and sucking in a breath between her clenched teeth in the middle of the street. Her jeans were torn, and there was a bad scratch on her one hand.

  I felt for her. I wish I could’ve stopped her from falling in the first place, but at least I could help her up.

  I didn’t speak as I bent down to help her up off her ass. Picking her up like she was mine, like I was meant to be there for her.

  I’ll never forget the look in her eyes. How the sight of me took the breath from her and all of her pain seemed to wash away. There was a spark between us. I know I’m not making that shit up in my memory, 'cause it's stayed with me all these years. A heat burned between us as we locked eyes.

  She seemed surprised that I even talked to her. I never talked much. Still don’t. I know I was unapproachable at the time. Ma had just been diagnosed a few months back. I didn’t feel like talking to anyone. I was just doing what I had to do. I was surviving day-to-day. A kid shouldn’t grow up like that. It wasn’t Ma’s fault and I didn’t blame her or anyone else. She never stopped trying.

  The trace of a smile from the memory of my sweetheart vanishes from my face as I punch in the code and open the door.

  Even though Ma’s home, I keep it locked. She’s probably sleeping anyway. The thought brings me down from the anxious high I’ve been riding on.

  It brings me back to reality.

  I close the door softly and wait for the faint beep of the security system as I slip off my boots. Bits of ice and snow fall off onto the mat as I set them off to the side and look down the hallway. Ma’s on the first floor, and the light is shining through from beneath the door to her bedroom. She moved into my house a few months ago. With the cancer wearing on her, she couldn’t be alone. I needed to keep an eye on her.

  It’s late for her to be up. And lately she’s been more and more exhausted.

  It’s why she’s down here now. She’d get so winded from climbing the stairs.

  I think about just going up the stairs and crashing, but I can’t.

  I walk quietly to her room and knock gently, rapping my knuckles on the door and waiting with my ear almost pressed against it.

  “Come on in,” I hear her say, barely loud enough to hear.

  The door opens with a faint creak and she tells me, “Leave it open.”

  If there’s anyone in this world that I take orders from, it’s Ma.

  I do as she says, watching the lines on the screen of the monitors as I walk closer to her. If the sound was on, there’d be a steady beep filling the room.

  They’re calling this hospice, which I can’t stand. It’s not the first time they’ve hooked her up for a day or two to monitor her. But I hate it when they call it hospice. She’s making it through this one. Just like the last time. She’s gonna be alright.

  I know she is.

  She’s not doing too well, but she’s still smiling. She’s never stopped. Smile today without fear of tomorrow. That’s her motto.

  “Tell me something new, Derek,” she says as I rub the sleep away from my eyes. I need to get some rest, at this point I’m working on a couple hours at most from last night. And tomorrow I have a long day, too.

  For a moment I consider telling her about Emma. She’s the only thing that new comes to mind. The only thing that matters. But as I pull the chair up closer to her bed and take my usual seat, I clear my throat and shrug. I don’t know what I’d tell her about Emma anyway.

  “Same ol, same ol.” I answer her and sit back in my seat. My muscles ache as they try to relax against the hard back of the chair. She’s got her reading glasses on and an old romance novel with worn pages closed on her lap, although her finger’s holding her place.

  “Did I interrupt your reading?”

  Her thin lips pull into a soft smile. “Never, baby. I’ve always got time for you.”

  “You find a wife yet?” she asks, slipping the glasses off her face and tapping them against the book impatiently. “You know you’re not getting any younger?”

  A rough chuckle vibrates up my chest.

  “There’s no woman on this earth who could replace you, Ma.” She rolls her eyes at the hint of sarcasm in my voice.

  She puts her glasses back on, but then takes them back off and pinches the bridge of her nose.

  “You alright?” I ask her, leaning forward and placing my hand gently on her elbow to steady her.

  “Just a headache.” Her voice is small and scratchy.

  “Did you get any sleep?” I ask her. She needs it. She can’t go on without resting.

  “Yeah, some.” She looks at me for a long moment before saying, “I’d like to see you happy before I die.” Ma’s words stop me short of moving, the breath stilling in my lungs.

  I hate how she talks like that. As if she’s leaving me tonight. She’s been beating the odds for years now. The cancer was supposed to kill her years ago. She’s not dying. I won’t let it happen.
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  Ma says that prayers work wonders. I know the drugs are helping. Or at least they were. Lately, though, her skin seems a little more grey, her face a little thinner, and her energy is nowhere near what it used to be. I wanna believe it’s just old age. But the scans are showing that it’s spreading again.

  The chemo helped, before, but this time, not so much. It just needs time. It’s gonna work. I know it will. It has to.

  “I mean it, Derek.” Her voice is hard as she settles back against the bed and takes in a deep breath. “You gotta find someone to make you happy.” My mother’s eyes water as she looks at me.

  “Ma, knock it off. I’m gonna be fine.” Her small hand feels so frail in mine, but she squeezes back with the strength I know she has, the strength I'm used to.

  She wipes away the tears under her eyes with her other hand.

  “Stop talking like that.” I try to think of something the doctor said on the last visit, but there wasn’t anything that I can remind her of to keep her focused on fighting this. It’s quiet for a long time, neither of us knowing what to say.

  I try not to let it get to me. She’s gonna be fine.

  “Go ahead and turn that light out for me, would ya?” she asks as she puts both the book and her glasses onto the nightstand. “I think I’ll try to get in a little more shuteye.”

  “Alright,” I say and get up, pushing off on my thighs and readying to go pass out myself. The thought of my sweetheart knocked out on the sofa makes a soft smile form on my lips.

  “Love you, Ma,” I tell her out of habit before I flick the switch.

  “Love you, too,” she says softly. “Leave it open,” she tells me with my hand on the doorknob.

  As I climb the stairs, I cover my mouth with a yawn and think about Emma.

  I remember that day again. The day that she fell, and her bag tore. There was a goodness about her I knew I didn’t deserve.

  I still don’t, but I want her.

  CHAPTER 5

  Emma

  * * *

  SUNLIGHT POURS through the sheer white curtains.

  I open my eyes slowly, and it takes me a minute to figure out where I am. Sandra’s guest room. That's right. Winter break.

  It comes back to me as I rub my eyes and lie back into the soft pillow, just wanting the annoying light to go away. My head hurts and I feel like I either overslept, or didn’t sleep enough. The last thing I remember is being on the loveseat with Derek.

  Shit! I practically jump up, pushing the hair out of my face and frantically looking around the room.

  Throwing off the lavender-colored down comforter, I climb out of bed. My head spins at first, and I brace myself against the dresser.

  Oh my God.

  I'm still in the black cami and lace undies I was in last night. Just undies… I take a moment to make sure I didn’t do anything stupid last night. Recalling everything I can.

  Well… shit smoking was stupid. Being with Derek … that’s not smart. I cringe as I recall everything that happened last night. Covering my face with my hands.

  We didn’t have sex though. I know he wouldn't do that. And I don’t feel like I did.

  I cover my face with my hands, remembering how he was going down on me. And then I passed the fuck out. Oh my fucking God.

  I was trying to tell him. It was so hard to keep my eyes open.

  But it felt so good.

  I groan into my hands and then crouch on the floor, leaning my back against the wall and huddling into a pathetic ball.

  I cannot believe I did that. I’m so embarrassed.

  I look back at my dresser and find my neatly folded jeans.

  If it’d been someone else... I shake my head. I never would’ve done that with someone else. Never.

  It was all because it was Derek. And he’s different.

  In school, they all said he was bad. One teacher specifically told me to stay away. Mrs. Hepburn. She was a bitch who needed to mind her own business. I feel the anger rise up all over again. They had no right to judge.

  He wasn’t a bad guy, not really. I knew he wasn’t back then. He may have done some bad things, but he had a goodness about him, hidden under the hard facade. Now he’s grown up, and the mask he wears is good at covering it, scaring people off, but that goodness still there.

  I hear faint sounds of dishes and chatter coming from downstairs, and that’s when I realize he may still be here.

  I shoot up and bound through the room, digging through my worn-out black duffel bag to find my pajama pants and quickly pull them on. I practically run down the stairs, but when I look up and see his jacket is missing from the coat rack, my heart drops and my steps slow. My bare feet pad on the wooden floor, and my stomach growls as I walk towards the kitchen.

  I wish he was still here so we could talk about what happened last night. We need to talk about it.

  At least I do.

  But maybe he doesn’t. Maybe last night didn’t mean much to him at all. I cross my arms and try not to think like that.

  As I start making my way to the kitchen, I hear Sandra giggling, followed by Tony’s voice.

  She’s frying eggs on the stove, while Tony stands next to her scratching his ass. “You're so gross!” Sandra says, laughing. Tony slaps her ass, resulting in even more giggling. At least Sandra seems happy. She deserves to be. I’ve never seen her like this, bubbly and at ease with a guy.

  “Good morning,” I say hoping it’s not awkward that I’m interrupting them and opening the cabinet to pull out a box of Corn Pops. It's my favorite cereal. Sandra always stocks up on it when I come to visit.

  “Good morning,” Sandra says as Tony kisses her neck and thankfully backs away to take a seat at the small table.

  “Morning,” he says, stretching his back with his arms over his head. You’d think he lived here, too. Shit, maybe he does. Maybe this last week she’s kept him away to give me space.

  I close the cabinet and try not to think about it as I chew on the inside of my cheek.

  “Is Derek here?” Sandra asks me with a ridiculous Cheshire grin on her face. She's way too excited this morning.

  “No, he left last night,” I tell her, ignoring the urge to try to pick apart everything that happened and over analyze why I’m here alone this morning. It’s simple. He didn’t want to stay, so he didn’t. That’s all it means. Or at least that’s what I tell myself over and over again as I put the milk away and sit down at the table.

  Tony sits down across from me with the fried eggs and toast Sandra just made him.

  “Oh, so he didn’t stay with you?” she asks turning to face me with a look of confusion.

  I shake my head no, shoving the spoon in my mouth and eating a bite of cereal. “Why are you asking?” I ask stirring the pops with my spoon.

  She shrugs before turning back to her omelet on the stove.

  I shake my head and take another mouthful of my cereal. The room is mostly quiet except for the clinking of the spoon against the ceramic bowl, the sounds of the eggs cooking on the stove, and the gentle scraping of the spatula. Tony’s on his phone, and I keep staring at him.

  He knows Derek.…I shove another spoonful into my mouth to keep from prying, but I can't help myself once he's off the phone.

  “So, Tony, you're good friends with Derek?” I ask.

  “Yeah, we've been friends for a real long time.” he sets his phone down to give me his full attention. “We grew up next door to each other. I was always over his house,” he answers me.

  “Oh, really?” I didn't know he grew up with Derek. My skin tingles with anxiety. I wonder if he knows about us. I never saw him back then. I never saw anyone. More than a few times I went to Derek's house, but I was quiet and discreet. I always waited in the back, just like he told me to.

  Neither of us wanted anyone to know.

  I bite the inside of my cheek rather than snooping anymore. I need his number though. Or something. I need to get ahold of him, but asking his friend when Derek cou
ld’ve left it for me just seems desperate. Sandra sits down next to me with her egg whites and three strips of bacon. It smells too good. I snag one of the three pieces, and she playfully acts like she’s going to stab me with her fork.

  Tony takes the opportunity to grab a piece for himself while she’s distracted with me, and I practically snort when she sees. Her mouth drops open in shock. Like he truly betrayed her for stealing a strip of bacon.

  I lick my fingers as she takes her last and only piece and mutters, “Vultures.”

  Tony hands her back half of his stolen strip, and she snags it like he’s gonna rip it away from her if she doesn’t take it right then.

  I have to admit, they’re so stinking cute together.

  Wanting to know more about the guy that's making my sister so happy, I ask Tony, “What do you do for a living?”

  “I work with Derek,” he says easily.

  “What does he do?” I ask him, mostly because Derek’s answer was so short and vague last night.

  “He has a business. A bunch of ‘em. He kinda runs the town.”

  He runs the town? What the fuck does that mean? I wait for Tony to say more, but he just continues eating his breakfast.

  My skin tingles with anxiety. He can’t still be dealing drugs. Derek was so much smarter than that. The thought makes my stomach flip.

  I stir the cereal around in my bowl of milk. I don’t have much of an appetite anymore. I push the bowl away and try to calm down. Runs the town. What’s there to run? I gather my hair and pull it over my shoulder. All I can think is that he’s doing shady shit. It makes me feel sick to my stomach. I want to question Tony. I want straight answers, but at the same time, I just don’t want to know. Knowing I’d rather hide from the truth than deal with whatever it is that he’s doing makes me cringe. I’m like one of those mothers I hate, enablers. Women who turn a blind eye while their children go further and further down the wrong path. I feel sick just thinking about it.

  I drag one of my books that was on the edge of the table closer to me and flip it open. The letters seem to blend together as I read them. All the black and white print is mixing and turning grey. I blink a few times and flip the page. Just one more semester.