8. Bryce
EIGHT
Bryce
M y thoughts are filled with visions of her. The way she felt when I lost control and kissed her for the first time, how warm she was against me, how sweet she tasted. I had to shower all that off of me. I wasn’t expecting her to come knocking on my door. With all of that rolling around inside of me, when she threw herself at me, I lost it. I thought, fuck it. I’m taking what I want, and I want her. There really was no way to push her back, not when I was already as lost as I was.
But as things went further, I couldn’t ignore the doubt building in my body. She’s young, too young for a man like me. I’ve been to places, seen things. I can’t forget my past, and I won’t bring someone else into it. She’s already discovered that I was at the same bombing which killed her parents. When she finds out I wasn’t there to help them, then what? Will she hate me? Will she blame me? Or will she tell me the same thing countless other people have said about the matter: you did what you could, you did your best.
The truth is, I remember her parents. Right before the bomb went off, I looked up from the floor after being shot, and I locked eyes with her dad. He wanted to rush across the room to help me, but he was torn between helping me and leaving his wife. As unconsciousness tugged at me, he finally pulled her along with him so he could try and protect her while helping me. I remember him putting his hands across the gunshot wound in my chest and applying pressure. The pain was enough to pull me from the darkness, so I opened my eyes and saw him hovering over me. I had so many questions. Why was he helping me? Why wasn’t he trying to find a way out of here? All hell had broken loose by this point. The doors weren’t being guarded like before. My mouth opened to ask, but it was like he sensed what I was going to say. He said, “Because this world needs you.”
Then, the bomb went off, and everything went black. I never knew what happened to the man who had helped me. I didn’t know if he and his wife made it out alive or if they perished in the bombing. It wasn’t until I was released from the hospital nearly a month later that I found out. I went to the station and did some digging, searching through names and then looking them up to put a face to the name. I finally found the man and discovered he and his wife both died when the bomb went off. It killed me to know that two people died in my place. I planned on going to his family and telling them that he died a hero, but when I looked into their relatives, I found only one family member. Her name was Katharina Camilla Waters. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t bring myself to face her. She was so young and now all alone in the world, thanks to me.
I guess now I wish I would’ve kept up with her and her whereabouts. I ran from her in Denver, and she doesn’t even know it. I ran here. Whether it’s either a fucked up coincidence that she’s here, too, or some twist of fate, I don’t know.
When she was introduced to me as Nina Waters, I didn’t put two and two together, even though the last name gave me a ping of confusion. Once she told me about the bombing, I knew exactly who she was. I should’ve kept my distance then, but I’m a stupid man. I should’ve known you can’t run from things that haunt you. If you could, you wouldn’t need to run to begin with. Either way, I’m sure when she finds out I’m the reason she lost her parents, she’ll never want to look at me again anyway. Maybe I should just tell her and get it off my chest. That would keep her away for sure, and then I wouldn’t have to worry about us getting close again. But something in my chest won’t let me do it. I don’t want to bring all that up for her. Not here, her safe haven.
When I wake up in the morning, I feel like I haven’t slept at all. Probably because every time I shut my eyes, I was back there, in that bank in Denver. I push myself out of bed anyway and start toward the bathroom. I look myself over in the mirror to find bloodshot eyes staring back at me. There are dark circles under them, and they make me look twice as old as I am. What in the hell did Nina see in me anyway? I mean, look at me. I keep my hair short, so the gray fades in a little better, and I have wrinkles around the corners of my eyes and between my brows. I’m not the guy she needs in her life. She needs someone young who can keep up with her.
I splash some water on my face, brush my teeth, and pull on my uniform before taking off toward the station. At least today is Saturday. I don’t think Nina works on Saturdays, and I’m thankful I get a little peace today. I don’t have to look at her and know all the hurt I’ve caused her. I don’t have to worry about trying to avoid her. I can just go in and do my job, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. Keep myself busy, so maybe I can tire myself out enough to sleep better tonight.
I stop and grab a coffee and a donut. I scarf the donut down before I park my truck and climb out, taking the coffee in with me. I walk in and stop in my tracks when I see Nina bent over another desk, working out a computer problem. But she isn’t dressed as she normally would be. She’s wearing a pair of tight, black yoga pants, tennis shoes, and a gray top that hangs low under her arms, showing off her black sports bra. Her blonde hair is pulled up high, showing me the slender neck of hers that my lips were just against last night.
My body wants to carry me over to her, pull her against me, and kiss her like she’s never been kissed before, right here in front of everyone, but I hold back and force myself to walk into my office instead.
Two weeks have passed, and I haven’t talked to Nina once. I’ve seen her around work, but she turns and walks in the other direction every time. She hasn’t come to our Friday night playtime at The Place either. I take everyone for drinks, and I bring in coffee, donuts, and other baked goods, but nothing lures her out of the dark hole she keeps herself locked in. It’s about time for the city council meeting, and I’m not sure if she still wants me to speak on behalf of the police station.
I try to work up the courage to ask her while we’re at work, but she ends up taking off early before I have the chance. The meeting is Tuesday night. There are only a few days left, and I need to know so I can prepare a speech. When I leave the station, I drive straight past my house and head to hers. I raise my hand and knock on the door. She answers it, wearing a tiny pair of Nike shorts and a Nike sports bra. Her skin is covered in beads of sweat rolling down her neck and between her breasts. I look her over and lick my lips.
Her eyes are wide. “Can I help you?” she asks, annoyance leaking through her voice.
“Uhhhh, yeah.” I shake my head, hoping to clear it of all thoughts. “I was just wondering if you still wanted me to speak at the meeting on Tuesday night. After what happened between us, I thought you might not want me there.”
She lets out a nervous laugh. “Nothing happened between us, Bryce. We’re still just as close as we ever were. And about the meeting,” She holds up her hand and lets it fall. “Use your judgment. If you want to come, then come. And if you don’t, just blow it off. But it would mean a lot to me if you helped me see this thing through. This isn’t about me; this is about the town and helping the kids get what they need.”
I nod. “Okay, I’ll be there.”
This time, she gives me a genuine smile. “Okay, thank you.”
I nod and turn to leave, but at the last second, I spin back around. I look down at her while she looks up at me. Her chest starts rising and falling quicker, like having me this close is making it hard to breathe. “Nina,” I start.
“Bryce.”
I wet my lips. “You and me, that night, it was amazing,” I breathe out.
“It was,” she agrees.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. And well, I’ve been trying to talk myself out of wanting you.”
“How’s that going for you?” She leans against the doorframe and crosses her arms, making her breasts press together.
“Not good,” I admit. “Every time I see you, I just want to pull you against me and kiss you senseless. I want to push up those little skirts you’ve been wearing and slide into you, not pulling out until you beg me to.”
Something is charging between us. It’s drawing us closer together. I’m just as breathless as she is as I imagine my words being acted out.
“Then do it,” she whispers, and it’s all the permission I need.
I reach out, grab her by the hips, and pull her against me until my mouth is firmly pressed against hers. Her tongue glides alongside mine, only pulling me deeper into the ocean that is her. I wrap my left arm around her and use my right arm to pick her up against me. She wraps her arms around my neck and her legs around my hips as I walk her deeper into the house. I kick the door closed behind me and peek my eyes open just enough to see the hallway in front of me. I follow it, figuring it has to lead to a bedroom.
The bedroom door is already open with the bedside lamp brightening up the room. I walk us into her bedroom and lower her down onto the bed, settling between her parted knees. Already, I’m rock hard and ready to go, and I push myself against her core with our clothes between us. But the moment she feels me ready for her, she lets out a breathy moan that only makes me want to work faster before she can change her mind—before I can change my mind.
Her hands are already between us, unbuttoning my shirt. She starts at the bottom and works her way to the top, finally pushing it over my shoulders. I pull away from her long enough to slide my arms out and toss it onto the floor. With my shirt gone, she pulls my undershirt up and over my head. Our lips find one another again, and I unfasten my utility belt from work and drop it onto the floor. It falls with a loud thunk. Her hands start to unbutton my pants, but I push them away, wanting to get her out of her workout clothes.
I kiss my way down her jaw and neck to the swell of her breasts. When I can go no lower, I pull back and hook my fingers under her shirt. I wait for only a second, but it’s another second for her to change her mind. She doesn’t. Instead, she sits up with me to allow me to pull it over her head. As I pull her sports bra off, her breasts bounce, her nipples already hardened before I’ve even touched them.
I lower my mouth down to them, sucking one into my mouth as my tongue swirls around it. She lets out an approving moan and lies back to let me do my work. While I suck, flick, and nibble at one, my hand plays with the other, massaging and caressing. I give her breasts far more attention than I should, but I’ve been picturing them since the moment I met her.
“Bryce, please,” she whimpers, biting down on my shoulder.
Her hands find the button on my pants again, and she pops it open and lowers the zipper. I have to get us both naked before we can back out. I need her now, and there is no stopping me this time. I’m far past the point of no return. In the blink of an eye, my pants and boxers are lying on the floor next to her shorts and lace panties. She brings my mouth to hers as my aching dick rests and pulses against her center.
“Do you have a condom?” I ask against her lips.
Without breaking our kiss, she reaches over and pulls one out of the top drawer of her nightstand. I hear the foil package as she rips it open. The next thing I know, she’s sliding it over my length, making me quiver at her touch.