by Vera Hollins
“What are you doing? Why did you stop?”
He unbuckled his seat belt. “Come out for a sec.”
“But why—”
“Just come.” He got out and closed the door.
I looked around with a frown. It was so dark I couldn’t make out anything in the shadows that converged all over. There were no cars passing. I licked my lips. What was he doing?
Reluctantly, I removed my seat belt and stepped outside, hit by a gust of cold air. He leaned against the hood of his car and tilted his head back to look at the starry sky.
My eyes caught on the sign standing a few feet away, which I recognized from the local news that covered tourist attractions near Enfield. It read: Enfield’s Sunflower Field. Welcome. I couldn’t see that far, but I didn’t need to in order to know the sunflower field was vacant at this time of year.
“You do know this is just like all those horror movies, right? You driving me to nowhere and acting all mysterious?” I said.
“If this was anything like horror movies, you’d already be dead.”
“Ha ha. That’s not funny.”
He shrugged. “I wasn’t trying to be.”
“Yes, I noticed humor isn’t your strong suit.”
“Says the humor expert.”
“At least I don’t wear a scowl all the time.”
A huge smile broke out on his face, and I stilled, realizing we were going back and forth like old friends.
I crossed my arms over my chest and went to the edge of the field. Now that my eyes had gotten used to the dark, I was able to discern the lines of the empty space. There were no lights, or signs of civilization for that matter, only trees and more trees. I had to remind myself this was Blake I was talking with, but each second spent with him made it easier for me to relax.
“Why did we stop here?”
He took his time responding, looking at the sky. “Have you ever counted stars?”
I tipped my chin down, staring at him with raised eyebrows. Such a strange question. “Yeah, when I was seven or eight. You?”
“Every time I come here.”
“Why?”
“Because it calms me down. It helps me stay grounded.”
I was confounded by yet another unusual choice of words. “Really?”
“Really.”
I half-smiled. “Don’t get me wrong, but I didn’t peg you as someone who would actually do that.”
His expression turned guarded as he met my gaze, and I saw my mistake. He’d just opened up to me, and I’d reacted in a way that could hurt his feelings.
I raised my hands up. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way. I just thought you were…”
“What?”
I looked around as I searched for the right word. “Invincible.”
He rolled his eyes. “I’m human too.”
I fidgeted with my hands. “You didn’t seem human whenever you bullied me.”
His brows dipped into a frown, and he crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes moved over the field. “You and I are both much more than what we thought of each other, Jessica.” He looked like he wanted to say more, but he didn’t.
“Fair enough.”
A cold breeze enveloped us as we fell into silence. He lay down on the hood and put his arms behind his head, gazing at the sky, and I used the opportunity to observe him. His body. His face that I saw in my dreams more often than I wanted to. Even now, with all the barriers between us, I wanted him to take me in his arms and show me our past was just a nightmare and he was going to wake me up.
“And to answer your question, I just wanted to bring you here,” he continued, his eyes darting from one part of the sky to the other. “Besides, you helped me at the track, so…”
I approached and stopped only a few feet short of him. “But I didn’t do anything.”
“You were there. That was more than enough.” He sighed. “I’ve had shitty days recently and couldn’t race, but tonight, with you…” His voice trailed off, and I wanted to beg him to finish that sentence. He looked deep in thought.
“Tonight, with me?” I spurred him on, too curious not to.
Our gazes locked. “It was different. In a good way.”
My heart picked up in speed. It was getting harder for me to resist his pull. I wanted to ask him why his days had been bad, but I knew he wouldn’t answer that.
I didn’t even realize I’d taken a few more steps closer to him. I was now standing right next to the hood, staring deep into his eyes.
“Why this place, though? What’s so special about it?”
He sat up. “It’s one of my most favorite places. That empty field?” He pointed at it. “Sunflowers will be all over it in summer, and believe me, it’s something else.”
I stared at him, immersed in his words, his voice, the look in his eyes. He’d just brought me to one of his most favorite places. Another hard layer fell from around my heart, leaving me even more vulnerable to him.
“I can imagine,” I said. I was all too aware of how near I currently was to him, only inches between me and his knees, and each new breath added to the sweet pressure in my chest. His body was massive compared to mine, all muscles and height. I had a hard time suppressing my desire.
“I also wanted to thank you.” My voice was barely louder than a whisper.
He leaned his elbow against his knee, getting even closer to me. His eyes went to my lips. Breathe, Jess. Just breathe.
“For what?”
“I had a lot of fun during the race. I finally see what all the fuss is about.”
“Yeah, the rush is the best.”
He continued watching me, a half-smile tugging at his lips, and the tension in my chest became almost unbearable. My cheeks were burning. I needed to say something, anything, to break the silence.
“So.” I cleared my throat. “You like counting stars, sunflowers, basketball, and Infected Mushroom. What else?”
The gust of wind sent a strand of my hair right into his face. He wrapped his fingers around it and moved it, but he didn’t let go. He formed a cheeky smile.
“And aren’t you curious?”
He tucked the strand behind my ear slowly, so slowly. I shivered when his fingers grazed my earlobe.
He looked at the sky. “What else do I like? I like…” He met my eyes. “You.”
I sucked in my breath. He’d actually said—
“…Tube videos,” he concluded, bursting my bubble.
I let out a strangled sound, and my whole face flared up. He raised his eyebrows at my expression and erupted into hearty laughter, bending at the waist.
“Your face! You should’ve seen your face.” His laughter grew louder, but I didn’t find this as amusing as he did.
I bit into my lip. I was so stupid. I’d really thought he…
He was just messing with me.
I turned my back to him and let out a chuckle that was so empty. “Right. YouTube videos. I like them too.” I wished my damn heart would slow down. So stupid.
His laughter died. I stared at the field, telling myself not to take it to heart and forget about it. It shouldn’t have mattered.
I folded my arms across my chest. “So, can we go now?”
“Jessie,” he said incredibly softly, but I didn’t react.
He took my upper arm and pulled me around and between his legs. My eyes widened at the position, heat washing all over me. He wound his other arm around my waist, and I had to place my hands on his thighs to steady myself.
He smiled. “You’re so cute like this.”
My voice didn’t listen to me. I stared back into his eyes completely captivated. My palms on his thighs were burning.
“You really want to know what I like?” He threaded his fingers through my hair. “I like this time here with you.” He looked at my mouth, his eyes half-closed. “I like talking to you.” He cupped my face with his hand. I trembled.
“How come?”
He slid his thumb over my lower
lip. “Because you’re so much more than I thought. And this night, you and me here…it feels more real than anything.” He leaned his forehead against mine, and I closed my eyes.
I pressed my fingers into his thighs reflexively. It was hard for me to believe this was real. “But for me…it feels like a dream.” If I moved my lips an inch closer to his, we would be kissing. “It feels like I’ll wake up to another day of hate and insults.”
“Jessie…” His fingers tightened in my hair. “We’re on borrowed time here, but it’s very real.” His heavy sigh skimmed over my lips. “I’m sorry.” I wanted to ask what he meant by borrowed time, but he said, “I know an apology won’t fix shit now, but I want you to know I’m sorry for every insult.” His lips grazed my lower lip. “I’m sorry for putting you through all that.” He left a tiny kiss on my upper lip. “I’m sorry for everything.”
He pressed his lips against mine and wrapped his arms around me, and I gave in, molding myself to him. It was bittersweet—all of this: the kiss, the nearness, the quiet of the night that witnessed our painful dance of forbidden feelings when there was no forgiveness. Nothing about this promised a happy ending, but I was happy to indulge in it for a little while, letting myself get carried away by a wave of illusion.
He deepened our kiss, holding me so close like he was afraid I would disappear at any moment, and I could feel his desperation. It poured out of him with each stroke of his tongue, with each caress of his hands, with each quickened breath that mingled with mine.
He flipped us around and placed me on the hood, never breaking our kiss. His hands pushed me down and moved down my waist and hips, sparking my desire.
He buried his head in my neck and left kisses that stole more of my reason, and when he palmed my breasts over my jacket—a move that felt so natural and left me wanting more—I almost threw all my caution to the wind. But this was an illusion, and when it shattered, its pieces would pierce me and leave even deeper scars than those I already had.
I snapped my eyes open. “Wait.” I pushed against his chest. “Blake, wait.” He leaned away to look at me, placing his hands against the hood on both sides of my waist. His eyes were filled with desire, his breathing ragged. “You can’t kiss me like this. It’s not right after everything.”
He frowned. “Why do you have to be like this?”
“Why do I…?” I huffed exasperatedly. “Because our past is too painful! Because it’s always hot and cold with you. Because I’m afraid I might end up completely broken if I let you treat me like all those other girls.”
He stepped away. “I’m not treating you like other girls.”
I sat up. “Yes, you are. You’d lose interest in me the moment you had me.”
He shook his head. “No. You don’t understand. This…” He motioned between us. “This isn’t about mindless fucking.”
“Then what is it, Blake? A game? Because I can’t explain in any other way what you’re doing with me, especially since you said you won’t ever be with me.”
He ran his hands through his hair. “Do you think I want to be like this? My mind is telling me to get the hell away from you, but I can’t. I can’t. And I’m tired of keeping myself on a tight leash and denying myself what I want.”
I gripped the edge of the hood. His words created intense longing that urged me to pull him back to me and kiss our pain away.
“I’m going against my promise, and you have no idea how much it hurts. I promised her I would never care for anyone else…I said she would be the only one for me…”
I placed my hand over my mouth. My chest ached too much.
He closed the distance between us and palmed the back of my head. His eyes carried a deeply rooted pain. “I made that promise, but I can’t keep it. I can’t fucking keep it.”
He held my gaze, and I saw the truth in his eyes. He was conflicted, torn between his love and devotion to Emma and me. Maybe he even felt he was betraying her, and now, more than ever, I wished we had met under different circumstances. I wished there weren’t too many things pulling us apart.
“I just want to lose myself in you for a minute,” he said. “Just this time.”
He cradled my head with both hands and nuzzled my nose. His warm breath traveled across my skin before he planted a kiss on the corner of my lips and left a trail of butterfly kisses along my jaw, incredibly slowly. Once more, my mind was fogged with desire that turned me into a puppet. His lips skimmed over my cheek before they ended their journey on mine, and I kissed him back with everything I had, our pain converging together.
He stepped between my legs and left kisses along my neck, letting me feel what I’d always craved. He put my legs around his waist and pressed himself against me, which brought his erection to where I needed the pressure the most. I moaned, throwing my head back.
“I want you,” he said hoarsely. “I want you in more ways than one.”
He started grinding against me, and his kisses grew more heated. His hands explored my waist, chest, and hips, making me feel more wanted than ever.
“If you only knew how good you feel,” he said. His eyes roamed all over me, so dark, so full of lust, eliminating all doubts that he really liked my body with all its curves. “You’re gorgeous.”
And I believed him. The way he looked at me, the conviction behind his words…the lust that matched mine… It was so easy to push everything aside and live in this moment.
He moved his hand and cupped me down there, and I sucked in my breath. Our gazes locked on each other.
“Blake,” I whispered, confounded but reveling in his touch.
“Let me touch you.”
I looked away, biting into my lip. “I…”
“Let me give you what I’ve wanted for so long.” He increased the pressure, and it was deliciously addictive.
I moaned, leaning into his touch inadvertently, but I couldn’t let it happen. I couldn’t.
“Just this once,” he said, kissing my neck, and I was so close to letting him do it. So close…
But it was pointless. I pushed against his shoulders. “No. Stop.”
He groaned. “Jessie, please—”
“No. Not like this.” I gave his shoulders another shove, and he drew back, breaking the contact between us. I ignored the furious throbbing of my core as I slid off the hood and stopped a safe distance away. I turned to face him. “You didn’t answer my question—what is this? What do I mean to you?”
He let out a loud sigh. “What do you want me to say?”
I scowled at him. “What do I want you to say?!” I pointed at my chest. “I’m not someone you can just use and discard later, Blake!”
“I’m not using you! Fuck!” He kicked the front tire and glared at me, his artery pumping furiously along his neck. “I’m still trying to accept the fact that I can’t hate you anymore. It was so easy back then. I hated you and everything made sense. You were my enemy and I was perfectly fine with that. But then hate turned into something…something else, and now I have no clue what to do with it.”
“How about treating me with respect first? Because I’m also struggling to accept that, for some twisted reason, I’ve fallen for my bully!” I clenched my cold hands, fighting against the tears. “And what makes it even harder is that all I get from you are half-truths, riddles, and even more riddles. It’s too much for me.”
He looked to the side. “I can’t tell you the truth.”
A tear slid down my cheek, and I brushed it off quickly, turning to the side so he wouldn’t see my face. “Of course not.”
“There are so many things you don’t know, but I’m not ready to tell them. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready.”
Another tear escaped my eye as guilt about invading his privacy converged inside me. I wasn’t being completely up-front with him either, and now, more than ever, I felt horrible for knowing something he hadn’t willingly shared with me—something he probably, as he’d just said, wouldn’t ever be ready to share. Hiding it fro
m him didn’t feel right at all.
“I’m not the one for you,” he continued. “I don’t know why we started feeling different toward each other, but we’re not meant to be.”
He drove another, final nail into my heart. I’d always known this, but it was much more painful hearing it directly from him. I turned to face him, masking my pain with a neutral expression.
“We’re not meant to be,” I echoed in a flat tone. “Why?” I asked, for the sole purpose of finding closure.
He grabbed the back of his head. His face had a look of utmost agony, and somehow I knew his next words would tear me down.
“Because I have a promise to keep, one that will most likely get me killed, but this promise is the one I won’t ever break.”
The thumping of my heart in my ears was too loud. A promise that will most likely get him killed.
“A promise? A promise of what?”
“A promise of revenge.”
Blake didn’t elaborate on what he meant by that. He returned to his car instead, which was my cue that the night was over, and we continued to Melissa’s place in complete silence. I had trouble keeping my tears at bay.
He was going to do something that could cost him his life, and I couldn’t do anything against the fear that possessed my heart. I couldn’t stop ruminating on it, struggling to connect all the pieces of the puzzle.
I was sure about one thing—it must have everything to do with Emma and their kidnapping. I recollected the fragments of Blake’s conversations I’d heard and his reaction to Bobby Q. It could be far-fetched, but what if Bobby Q had something to do with the kidnapping? No, he had to be part of the puzzle, just like those photos I’d found in Blake’s room. Then again, what was Blake doing? What was his plan for revenge and when would he execute it?
And that promise of revenge…was it a promise to Emma? Or someone else?
One thing was clear: he wasn’t going to back away from it.
It hurt knowing that. I wanted him out of harm’s way, but how he looked when he said those words…the fire in his eyes… He was determined to do it, and it didn’t matter what he felt for me. He was holding back because for him, his revenge came first.