I said not a word to anyone of this encounter with Derrick Yancy.
He’s bluffing, I told myself. He’s trying to scare you, just like he sent someone to mess up your apartment while you were gone. He’s all talk.
But the thought that he might be serious, that something could happen to someone I cared about, tortured my every waking thought.
I kept my head low at work on Friday; Al was worried. He reminded me at least three times that it was his birthday party this evening.
“I’ll be there, don’t worry,” I assured him. I adored Al, truly, even though my primary motivation for attending his birthday party was because I was certain that Case would be there, as Al had invited nearly everyone in town. I was dying to see Case, furious at him for staying away from me this week.
But my heart ached at the thought of seeing him and being unable to touch him.
Touching him may have been at the forefront of my thoughts that evening, as I showered for the second time and proceeded to get ready, and the raw, almost painful hope of him touching me in return. A week apart from Case had left me devastated and approaching desperation. Not to mention I still owed him an apology. I had stopped myself from driving out to his place over a dozen times this week, even more from calling him. I needed to tell him I was sorry in person and if he wasn’t at Al’s tonight, it would be a sign that I should drive out to Ridge Road after all.
I blew out my hair, letting it fall in soft curls down my back. I had lined and shadowed my eyes with extra care. Make-up accomplished, I stood before my tiny closet, agonizing. At last I settled on sweet and simple, slipping into my pale-pink bra and then a tank top a step above everyday wear, made of pretty white eyelet. It had a scalloped neckline and fitted perfectly over my breasts. With this I wore the matching panties and black linen shorts; my black strappy sandals would be perfect as a finishing touch. I fastened my diamond studs in my ears and pressed both hands to still the panicky fluttering in my gut.
What if he’s not there?
Oh God, Case, please be there…
Robbie was still planning to pick me up, though he was late; it was quarter after seven, but what did I expect? Peaches came to curl around my ankles and I stooped to pet her; as I did, I heard my phone chirp with a text message. I hurried to gather it up and read the message from Robbie: Almost to ur place. And sure enough, I went to the kitchen window to see his BMW carefully navigating the gravel of the parking lot. I could exactly picture the wincing pain on his face at having to drive off blacktop with his prized possession.
“See you later,” I murmured to Peaches, patting her head, and then locked the door behind me, heading out to the parking lot so Robbie wouldn’t feel compelled to come up to the apartment.
“Damn, baby girl,” Robbie said, leaning out his window as I approached the BMW. The evening sun was incredible, gilding everything with a rosy glow. He let his eyes rove openly over me, making a show of it, and then said, “I don’t care what your dad says, I am making a play for you tonight. It would be worth it to lose all job prospects.”
“Would you quit?” I told him, opening the passenger door and settling onto the butter-soft leather. He lowered the music volume with a touch of a button on the steering wheel.
“I’m dead serious,” he said, lowering his sunglasses back into place and creeping back out towards the street. “Shit, I hate this gravel. I hate being outside civilization.”
“You are such a baby,” I said.
“Thank God it’s just two more weeks. Ron’s place is magnificent, at least. Just exactly what we can hope for when we’re making six-plus figures in Chicago in the next decade, God willing,” he said, and I looked immediately away, out the passenger-side window, watching the rolling foothills in the warm light of the sinking sun. They were glowing as though dipped in golden gilt, the scent of sagebrush keen in the air. I breathed deeply and tried not to let the thought of that, of Chicago and its inevitable pull, cause tears to flood my eyes.
Your mascara, I thought stupidly, trying to make a joke of it.
But it was no use.
Robbie was already blathering on about something else, but I only saw Case in my mind, flowing through all of the ways he had looked since he had reentered my life, all of the expressions on his face, the things he had said to me, the feel of his hands and mouth on my body…
I can’t bear this…
“Tish, for real,” Robbie insisted. “You’re in la-la land. Did you hear what I just said?”
“Sorry,” I replied at once, flustered. I looked over at him and he lowered his sunglasses to regard me with his perfect blue eyes.
“I said, I’m hoping to get laid tonight. You know of any easy girls in this area? Like, who might not have pieces of hay sticking to them?”
I knew he was just kidding around, trying to get me to laugh. I said, “Benson, if you need my help to get laid, then you’re way out of practice. Be nice. Make conversation. People around here aren’t the rednecks you think they are.”
Robbie replaced his sunglasses and muttered, “Sure.”
Al’s birthday party was being held in his barn; I directed Robbie there, and he could hardly contain his disgust, though he masked it behind a façade of lukewarm professional detachment. He knew the game, inside and out, and I knew that’s why Dad liked him so well.
“Dammit, will you take my keys?” Robbie asked me as we walked towards the barn. “I don’t have a deep enough pocket. And of course there’s no coat check…”
“Jesus,” I muttered. He was like a little boy. “Yes, give me your stupid keys.”
Lanterns were lit and strung between wooden beams along the inside of the structure, and bales of hay were intermixed with chairs. The crowd was already lively and bustling, adults clustered around the makeshift bar in the far corner; opposite the bar was the raised, pie-shaped stage, where two teenagers were running amp cords even now.
My heart surged and stormed around inside my chest, but I realized the musicians were two older men I didn’t know. I saw the Rawleys almost immediately upon entering the barn, and welcomed this excuse to separate from Robbie, who looked as ridiculous as one might expect, dressed in black pencil-leg trousers and a formal tie. Al and Helen Anne came to greet both of us warmly, before getting swept back into the group they’d been conversing with.
“I’ll be over there,” I told Robbie, indicating Clark.
“I’ll be over there,” he said, indicating the bar.
Seconds later I was wrapped in Clark’s warm, kind embrace. He drew back and studied me with his mustache twitching.
“I’m glad to see you,” he told me. “You’ve been a stranger this week.”
“I know,” I said, hurting. “I’m sorry. You guys been here long?”
“Just arrived,” Clark said. I spotted Garth and Becky then, Becky carrying their little guy on her hip. My composure took another sharp nosedive as my eyes scanned almost frantically for Case, but he remained nowhere to be seen.
Clark said then, changing the subject, “May I tell you how lovely you look this evening?”
“You’re so sweet,” I told him sincerely, and then, “Hi, guys,” as Garth and Becky drew near enough to greet. Baby Tommy was adorable as always, and I managed a smile for him, bouncing his foot. “Hey there, little guy.”
“You want to hold him for a little bit?” Becky asked me eagerly. “That way maybe I can sneak over to the bar for just a minute.”
I giggled at the anticipation in her voice, unable to refuse. She passed Tommy into my arms and I bounced him on my hip; he was about eight months, I would guess, and regarded me with a gummy smile, his cheeks so chubby that they nearly obscured his vision.
“Thanks, Tish,” Garth said, taking his wife’s arm as they angled immediately towards the bar.
I giggled a little, telling Clark, “I think I just got snowballed.”
Clark smoothed a hand over his grandson’s mostly-bald head and said, “I’ll take him when you want to dance, doll.”
I didn’t want to dance, not with anyone but Case; and at last, as though conjured by my longing for him, Clark looked over my shoulder and said, “I was wondering when you were going to get here.”
Flames leaped upwards from my stomach, igniting my heart in passing. I didn’t dare turn around even as I sensed Case come right up behind my left shoulder, pausing there perhaps no more than a foot away. I swore I could feel the heat from his body. I wanted to spin around and get my arms about his neck, press close and tell him I was so sorry that I slapped him. That he made me so angry on top of being so aroused that I had entertained thoughts of forcing him to make love to me that night. As though I was capable of such a thing. I almost laughed at my own absurdity.
“Better late than never,” he said, his deep voice that seemed to vibrate in my belly.
“Dad, c’mere!” Wy called then, from a few yards away.
Clark tipped the brim of his hat, saying, “Excuse me,” and went to see what was going on with his youngest. Left alone with Case and baby Tommy, I tried to compose my face enough to meet his eyes before turning around. When I did, my heart blasted off into outer space just seeing him in front of me.
I’ve missed you so fucking much, I longed to say. There were so many things I needed to say to him I didn’t know where to start; instead, I stared speechlessly.
He was wearing his hat, his eyes in partial shadow, lips somber. He was dressed in a silver-gray t-shirt, one I didn’t recognize, and his faded jeans, a leather belt with a silver buckle. We stared dumbly at one another for the space of two breaths before he asked quietly, “Did you get your keys on Saturday?”
“I did,” I said, my voice a little hoarse. And then, my words rushing along as fast as my heart, “Thank you for that. And I’m sorry. I really am…”
He knew exactly what I meant and said quietly, “I’m sorry too.”
I nodded in the direction of Robbie, who was drinking from a plastic keg cup, and who saw me talking to Case. I told him, “That’s Rob Benson. He’s hoping to work in the same law firm as I am this fall. He’s spoiled and arrogant and I really can’t stand him. Please, don’t for one minute think…”
Case held my gaze and said, “I don’t think that. I didn’t really think that last weekend, truly.”
Tommy chose that moment to clench a fistful of my hair, tugging delightedly.
“Ouch,” I muttered, disentangling the chubby little fingers, saying to Tommy in the voice reserved for babies, “Listen, tiny man, that’s no way to get attention.”
“But it works,” Case said, teasing me a little with both words and tone, and I looked back up at him to see a hint of a smile.
“You’ve tried it, I presume?” I teased right back, immeasurably glad to be near him. I could not even express in words. I thought inadvertently of Derrick’s horrible words right then and knew I had to tell Case. Maybe not at this second, but soon.
“A time or two,” he allowed.
Touch me, just one touch, even for a second, I begged him without words, studying his eyes intently.
He sensed what I longed for, even though he moved with deliberate care and gathered my hair into one hand, lifting it over the opposite shoulder and safely away from Tommy’s fingers. He let his hand linger only for a second, my nerves responding to this by all simultaneously supercharging.
“You are so absolutely lovely,” he said then, his heartfelt words just above a whisper, and my insides grew even more turbulent, but Garth and Becky were suddenly there, merry and laughing, clutching not only beers for themselves but also one for me.
“Thank you, sweetie,” Becky told me, gathering Tommy back into her arms. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“I woulda brought you something,” Garth told Case, bumping the side of his bicep with a closed fist, a gesture common to the two of them. “I didn’t see you were here yet.”
“Thanks,” I told Becky distractedly, tearing my eyes from Case to accept the beer she offered. I realized I hadn’t likewise thanked Case for what he’d just said to me, but we had been inundated by the Rawley clan and it was chaotic.
The music started then, as a man skipped a bow across fiddle strings in a call to attention. The crowd surged with a sound of appreciation, a ripple of applause. The two musicians had taken the stage and one spoke into the microphone, saying, “How’re you all doing on this fine, fine evening?”
The last of the sunlight streaked over the floorboards and I shivered a little, in pure anticipation, watching Case intently from the corner of my eye. We had been jostled apart, and I tried to side-step unobtrusively closer to him.” Gentlemen invite your ladies and show us what you know!” the man at the mic ordered, lifting both his bow and fiddle high in the air before settling the latter beneath his chin and making it sing.
“Tish, dance with me, please, pretty please,” Wy said then, appearing before me and bowing formally despite his slightly less-than-dignified invitation.
I couldn’t help but giggle, even as my eyes flickered over to Case, to find him watching with amusement. Wy raised his eyebrows in pleading and I couldn’t refuse; I held out my right hand and he caught it into his own at once, kissing my knuckles before leading me towards the dance floor. The Rawleys were gentlemen, I had to give them that. Wy was only fifteen and yet conducted himself with more politeness and poise than most grown men.
“Two-step?” I asked, a little concerned as I observed the couples who danced as though they’d received professional ballroom training since their childhoods.
“That works,” Wy said agreeably.
“And I forgot my hat that I never bought,” I said, still observing everyone. Joking a little, I added, “I stand out, dang it.”
“You’d stand out no matter what,” Wy said admiringly. “As you’re so pretty.”
“I can’t believe you don’t have a girlfriend,” I told him, grinning as he flushed a little. “That Hannah is one dumb cookie.”
Wy led us expertly; as we swirled amidst the other couples I peeked towards the edge of the dance floor to spy Case, watching us dance. We swirled away then, and I lost sight of him in the crowd. As the song ended, Wy said, “How about one more, Tish, please?”
But I saw Case coming through the crowd towards us, and my breath caught with a kind of painful hope. I said to Wy, though I couldn’t take my eyes from Case, “Not this one, buddy…”
Case reached us and I saw Wy smile, and then back off.
“Can I have this dance?” Case asked me, just softly, and I nodded slowly.
As always, I was so aware of him. I had never experienced such a thing, this kind of longing, this kind of razor-edged aching for another person. Never like this. Before he could keep us in a more traditional stance, the way I’d been dancing with Wy, I put my arms around his neck and moved as close as I dared, not taking my eyes from his.
His hands moved to my waist, his big, strong, beautiful hands, which took me gently in their grip. I felt a pulse that moved directly from his skin to mine, I saw the expression in his eyes that mirrored the one in mine, the one he couldn’t quite tuck away, or was tired of trying to hide. And he drew me close, so that my breasts were against his chest. My heart thrust furiously, as though trying to push me even closer to him, and I drew in a small, sharp breath, curling my fingers into the soft hair on the back of his neck, beneath his hat brim.
I felt his hands move behind my back, locking around me. His eyes held just as tightly to mine. He studied me and I could feel my heart, my pulse, matching the pace of his, beat for passionate beat. I clung to him, pressing my breasts to him, nearly weak with the desire for more. All. Everything. My thighs began trembling and then the trembling moved upwards and I could tell he felt it even as he kept us swaying gently to the music. We danced to the next two songs, wordless, studying each other as though this was the last night we would be together. And in my mind, pictures and images swirled together, and I knew with every ounce of my soul that I had danced with him before.
Case, I thought. And then, Cole…oh God, you’re him. You. It’s you.
He saw in my eyes what I needed and after the fourth song, he took my hand and led me wordlessly outside, into the night, where it was humid and almost fully dark, growing ever luminous with stars, the sounds of the dance immediately receding to the background. Around the far edge of the barn, where I could only hear my heart, and my frantic breathing, and there he buried his hands into my hair and brought my mouth to his, kissing me so deeply and so sweetly that I moaned. His hat brim bumped my forehead and I took it from his head at once, letting it sail to the ground, curling my hands into his hair.
And it was so intense, so quickly. Overwhelming need to take deeper his kisses, to taste him and open completely to him, in every way possible. He held my face, kissing my jaw, my neck, my collarbones, so tenderly and with so much heat, as I clung to his shoulders and let my head hang back to allow him every access. I kissed him in return, his firm, stubborn chin, his jaw, his neck, running my hands beneath his shirt, over his hard, warm skin. He moaned deep in his throat and our lips were flush again, open and stroking. He slid both hands under the hem of my blouse, swiftly up to my breasts, cradling me at last as I made soft pleading sounds, unable to help it as he stroked my nipples with his thumbs.
“Case,” I moaned, sliding my right hand over the front of his jeans. I felt as substantial as molten liquid as I caressed the length of him against my palm, hard as a brass rod beneath the warm denim.
He caught my face in his hands then, holding it, tipping his forehead to mine as our breath came in heaving gasps. I begged, “Oh God, please…”
“Tish,” he whispered, his voice hoarse, as though he was in pain. And then, to my stun, he turned away as he had before, crouching and crossing his forearms against his face.
“Wait!” I gasped out, moving for him at once, but he collected his hat with a brisk movement and then rose before I could make contact, swiftly and with purpose.
He said, low, “I can’t bear this,” and took off in the direction of the parked cars, walking with a long stride, determined. I ran after him, feeling my heart beating like a wild creature that wanted to come clawing out from my ribcage.
“Wait,” I begged again, dogging him. “Case, oh God, wait…”
His truck wasn’t far. Horrified, I saw that he was going to leave me, drive away. He climbed in the driver’s side but I cranked open the passenger door and followed directly after him, grabbing his right arm, intent on keeping him from getting the key into the ignition.
“Tish,” he said again, freezing in place, his voice husky and aching, and everything within me responded, this use of my name and the tone in which he spoke it inciting a riot in my blood.
“Don’t go,” I begged, pulsing with energy and desire, and then I jumped as he moved fluidly, swiftly, across the seat to wrap me in his arms. Suddenly I was straddling him, uncertain how this had happened, as I didn’t recall moving. But it didn’t matter – nothing mattered except the taste of him against my tongue, the heated intensity of his hands deep in my hair, his kisses, my hips pressing so hard against him that I would be bruised tomorrow. I clutched his shoulders, his head, begging him with wordless sounds.
He gripped a handful of my hair and forcefully tipped back my head, kissing my neck, biting me lightly. His other hand was tight around my waist, hot against the softness of my shirt, and I held fast to him, as I was sure he would stop this at any second. His eyes blazed like hellfire and my heart was near to exploding.
“Don’t stop,” I ordered fiercely, and he made a hoarse sound in his throat, moving his hands to cup my breasts. I pressed closer, lifting into his broad palms as he kissed me deeply. I tore my mouth from his to beg, “Please, Case, please…”
He shifted us then, taking me beneath him on the seat, bracing over me. Pressed flush against him, I could feel his heart, matching mine thrust for increasingly frantic thrust. Again I could feel how hard he was, cradled against my hips, and then we were kissing and nothing had ever felt more right. I curved my thighs around him and he kissed my neck, moving down between my breasts, closing his teeth over my right nipple, his big hands warm under my shirt, against my stomach. My hips jerked against him, and I pleaded, “Come home with me…”
Not without difficulty, as I was clinging to him, he sat up then, burying his face in both hands, breathing so hard that his chest was heaving. I was almost too weak with desire, with what we had been doing, that I could hardly move at first. I was stunned that he would stop again.
“Case,” I said, scrambling to my knees, getting my arms around him from the side.
He broke away and managed to say, “No…”
“No,” I disagreed sharply, my own breath so short that I was dizzy. “Case, please…”
“I have to go,” he said, hardly able to speak the words, I could tell, and yet he was choosing to do this to me.
“No you do not,” I hissed, gripping him.
His eyes blazed into mine. He repeated, “I have to go.”
Fury burned a path through me, so hot that my vision wavered.
“Then go,” I raged at him, slamming out of his truck. I yelled at him again, “Just fucking go!”
He drove away without fishtailing gravel this time, but the second his taillights began to disappear down the road I grabbed Robbie’s car keys from the pocket of my shorts, terrified. I caught these in a shaking hand, disregarding what would surely be Robbie’s wrath, ran to his car and started it with a vengeance.
I followed Case’s truck straight out to his place, the sleek little car purring beneath me, determined to finish this once and for all, one way or the other. I was shaking with rage and need for him, blinded by these emotions. He had barely parked when I pulled in next to his truck, hardly remembering to put it into park before bursting out of the BMW and accosting him in his yard.
“How dare you drive away from me like that!” I screamed at him.
“I can’t bear this!” he yelled at me again, truly furious, as visibly angry as I felt. Mutt and Tiny were jumping all around our legs, though they began barking at this unexpected sound of Case in a rage. He brought his hands to his face.
“Why? Answer me!” I shouted right back. “Goddammit, look at me!”
Case dropped his hands, pinned me with his eyes and said in a low, deadly voice, “All I fucking do is look at you. I’m tortured every second of every fucking day.”
He stormed past me and slammed into his trailer, clicking on the kitchen light, me on his heels. In the narrow space of the kitchen, I grabbed his t-shirt and tugged fiercely.
“Stop it!” he raged, spinning to face me so quickly that I made an inadvertent sound of fear. But I would never fear him. I only feared the untamed expression on his face. He yelled, “You can’t be here! I can’t fucking bear it! It’s tearing me up inside! Don’t you know how long I’ve loved you? Jesus fucking Christ! I’ve fucking loved you since I first saw your picture seven years ago!”
“You didn’t even know me then!” I screamed at him, his words pummeling me with both abounding joy and helpless agony. I didn’t add that I wanted him to know me better than anyone else in his life. That I wanted the same from him, in return.
“You think I don’t know that?! It’s insane, it’s more fucked up than anything I’ve ever known!” he yelled back, fire and heat clashing between us in red-orange waves. “I didn’t ask to feel this way. Jesus Christ, it’s like I’m tormented, fucking haunted! When you’re not around, I can’t get you out of my mind. When you’re in front of me it’s even worse. I can hardly breathe because I want you so much.”
His deep voice broke a little on the last few words even as he continued glaring at me. I gulped a little, wanting him so very much that I felt electric, my nerves crackling. But there was something far more sobering thrumming in my body, in the vicinity of my heart. Something I was far too terrified to fully acknowledge and so I glared right back.
“Don’t worry,” he said quietly, acid in his tone now. “I won’t mention it again.”
“Goddammit,” I said, flailing, desperate to be in his arms but unable to let myself. I recognized that I would not be able to turn back from that road, should I choose to head down its length.
But as I stared up at him, the choice was out of my hands.
We were unable to take our eyes from each other. My heart was furious in my chest, demanding acknowledgment. He went on, in a controlled rage, “I tell myself every time that it’s the last time. The last time I’ll try to see you, to be near you. Do you know what it’s been like for me with you here? I feel like I’m on the fucking rack. Just let me go.”
Oh God, I don’t want to let you go. Oh Case, oh God, I don’t want to let you go and I won’t tell you because it would only hurt you. I can’t stay here. I don’t belong here…
“Just let me go,” he repeated, his tone an inch from total defeat. His eyes were dark with anger and need and desire, all swirled together, and his gaze dropped to my lips, my breasts, my hips, back to my eyes and then he buried his face in both hands, clearly in agony.
Agony clawed at me too. Unable to stop myself, I closed the meager distance between us and put my hands around his elbows. He jerked as though I’d plunged a knife into his side, removing his hands from his eyes. His auburn eyes that flared with rage as I curled my fingers around him, refusing to let go of his arms. He was hard and strong, so warm beneath my palms and the same liquid desire rippled over me, more insistent than ever.
“Don’t,” he said, his voice low and dead-serious.
I tightened my grip.
“I fucking mean it,” he said. “I should never have kissed you…oh God…”
“Kiss me now,” I begged him, every pulse point beneath my skin throbbing.
He broke free and stepped back, shoulders squaring. The fury chiseled on his face struck me straight through the center. He was so good-looking he was beautiful, even in this sort of passionate rage.
“No,” he said, low.
“Please,” I whispered. Oh God, don’t turn me away again. I’ll die.
“Go,” he said then, hardly more than a whisper, his eyes flashing fire so hot that I was very nearly incinerated just looking back at him.
I spun away and shoved out the door into the humid summer night, crushed beneath the weight of regret. I stormed over the stone path leading to his trailer, seeing nothing but the red of desire, and fury, passion, and very likely insanity. I heard the screen crash open behind me, indicating that Case had decided to come after me, and so then I ran, racing into the night. I heard him right on my heels just as his arms went around me from behind and we stumbled forward, almost going down.
“Let me go!” I gasped out, breathless, struggling furiously against his hold.
“Wait,” he said back, just as out of breath.
I twisted and intended to shove him away, but instead I grabbed his head to pull his mouth to mine. He made a harsh sound in his throat and kissed me just like I needed. I opened my lips to take his tongue into my mouth, craving the taste of him, my hands clutching him frantically. We went to our knees, Case gripping my jaws in both hands, tilting me into his heated kisses, our heads slanting one way and the other.
Fiercely I yanked him over me, tumbling onto the ground, spreading my legs around his hips as we kissed as though the world would promptly explode before morning’s light and this moment was all we would ever be allowed. I slid my hands at once beneath his shirt, where he was so strong and warm, so solid under my palms. I moaned and went for his jeans.
“Case, oh God, oh God, don’t stop,” I begged as he lifted his mouth just a fraction, breath pelting my cheek, to stare into my eyes with all of the wonder and insanity of what was happening here in his darkened yard. My own breath was coming in gasps, my heart beating so fast it was tripping over itself, roaring in my head. His heart matched this pace and then some, pressed tightly to my breasts.
“Tell me…you want me,” he rasped out, winding his fingers into my loose hair, clutching me almost painfully hard. But it was exactly what I wanted, down to my bones, exactly what I needed.
“I couldn’t want you more,” I moaned, dizzy with it, tightening my thighs around his hips, feeling the rigid hardness beneath his jeans. He caught my wrists from where I had curled my fingers around his belt buckle and pinned them forcefully to the ground, just beside my cheeks on either side of my head. I lifted against him, feverish, and he suckled my bottom lip in his mouth, running his tongue over me, the heat of this flaming straight between my legs. I couldn’t handle another moment of him not touching me.
“Good,” he whispered cruelly, rolling from me, lying flat on his own back and covering his face, knees bent at right angles. Cold and desolate without him atop me, I went right after him, stunned, again feeling as though he had struck me with his fists.
“Look at me!” I shouted at him, shoving at his hands so that he would. I was so aroused that the violent red haze had descended again, even as angry tears spurted in my eyes. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“Doing this to you?” he repeated, fiercely, catching my wrists again. “You don’t have any idea.”
“That hurts,” I choked out, struggling to free myself from his grasp, tear-streaked and miserable, and in love with him. God help me, so in love with him that I couldn’t even imagine another day without him in it.
“Then you finally understand,” he said, low and harsh, hauling me back over his chest. I fell over him, greedy for his every touch, my hair getting tangled between us as he rolled me to the side and claimed my mouth, sliding his right hand over my belly and over the top of my jean shorts. The sounds coming from my throat were purely mindless with need. He kissed me, stroking until I could no longer sense time and place, my hands fisted around his t-shirt; I thought he might try to escape if I loosed my hold.
“I need you, oh God, I need you,” I told him as he freed my mouth to kiss my neck, and at my words he went rigid, ceasing all motion. He lifted his head and, frantic that he would push me away, I clung even more tightly.
His eyes were flames, intent upon burning me alive, and he whispered, “You don’t mean that how I want you to mean it, and I can’t bear it.”
“Case!” I gasped, but was not strong enough to stop him from extracting himself from my grip. I scrambled after him, as though we were competitors in a wrestling match, catching him around the waist as he got to his knees, knocking us both off balance. We grappled, falling again to the earth, me over his chest this time. I straddled him at once, pinning him as well I could with my legs, bracing myself on his shoulders. Furious, pulsating with heated energy, I yelled as best I could manage through my heaving breath, “Would you…listen to me? I’m not fucking with you!”
He stared up at me, cast in demonically-red light, his chest rising and falling with his own harsh breath. I could feel the way his heart was throbbing; I could see the pulse beating at the base of his throat. But before I could speak he said hoarsely, “Right now I don’t care how I’ll feel tomorrow.” The tone in his voice killed me. “I don’t care anymore. When you leave, I want to have at least one memory to get me through the rest of my life.”
I took these words like blows from someone with a hammer in hand.
Oh God…
When you leave…
You can’t stay here, Tish. You’re not good enough for him. You know it’s true…
My thoughts were raging, swift and horrible.
If you tell him you love him it will only force you to make a choice you can’t make…
I can’t bear it, I can’t bear it either…
Tears came gushing from my eyes then and I rolled away this time, utterly defeated, hollowed out. I felt as though I should take myself somewhere and use a whip to peel the flesh from my own back. And even that would not hurt as much as what I had done to him, what I would have to do to myself to stop this from going any further. I had pushed it when he’d told me to go, to let him go…
He wrapped around me from behind, catching me to his chest and he was so strong, cradling me this time, as I pressed both fists to my mouth to keep sobs from ripping up my chest.
“Oh God, don’t cry,” he said into my hair.
I hated myself more in that moment than I had ever hated anything or anyone in my life. I wrenched free of him and stumbled to my feet, blinded by tears, choking on sobs.
“Tish,” he said, and his voice was that of someone drowning, unable to surface for the next breath, just as I felt right now. “Oh God, don’t go…please, don’t go.”
I didn’t dare look back as I jogged to my car, leaving him sitting on the ground.
And this time he didn’t follow.