Chapter 9 #2
Okay, the last part is a lie. My brother is still thrilled he clocked Drew in the jaw, but I can’t tell him that. How rude is this kid, getting all hopped up over the fact that he punched my new boyfriend in the face for making my life miserable?
I secretly sort of love how quickly my brother defended me, though.
It’s sweet. And it shows that I have reached him.
No matter how frustrated I get or how often I think he’s not listening to me, he is listening.
He loves me and wants to make sure I’m okay.
Just as much as I love him and always want to make sure he’s okay, too.
Well, I’m probably the more protective of the two of us, but I’m the older one. The responsible one. I have to watch out for him.
“You’re a good sister,” Drew says as he pulls into the parking lot of his complex. “I hope your brother appreciates everything you do for him.”
“I think he does.”
“How about your mom?”
I’m immediately defensive. “What about her?”
He parks the truck and shuts off the engine. “Does she appreciate everything you do?”
“Half the time, I don’t think she realizes we even exist.” My voice is bitter but I can’t help it.
I think of her and I’m filled with instant bitterness.
It’s like instant coffee, only worse. “She’s never around.
She lost her job before Thanksgiving and now she’s always hanging out with her loser boyfriend instead of taking care of Owen or, you know, working. ”
“She hasn’t found another job?” He sounds incredulous.
“It’s not that easy when you don’t have a large skill set.”
“So who’s paying the rent at your place?”
“You’re looking at her.” I jab my thumb at my chest.
“And all the bills? The groceries and whatever else needs to be paid for?”
“That would be me.”
He slowly shakes his head, the respect in his gaze clear. “Why are you so fucking amazing?”
His words send a rush of warmth through me but I bat the sensation down. “I’m just doing what I need to do. Don’t make me out as some sort of hero.”
“Anyone your age would bail. Seriously.”
“I don’t think so,” I start, but he cuts me off.
“I do. You’re only twenty, Fable. And you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders.
You take care of your brother and you pay all the bills.
You’re always working and trying your best to keep your head above water.
” He shakes his head slowly. “I admire you so much. You’re so strong, no matter what life throws at you. ”
“I don’t have a choice,” I say with a shrug. “I do what I have to do to get by.”
“I could take lessons from you, you know that?” He leans over the center console and cups my cheek, pulling me in for a lingering kiss. “We always have a choice. And you choose to stay. Don’t ever downplay that. Most people would run like hell from all that responsibility. I would.”
I gaze into his eyes, see all the admiration and passion and … something else in their beautiful blue depths. “You underestimate yourself, Drew. As usual.”
“Fine. I’ve always run away in the past. But you, Fable. You make me want to stay.”
Drew
The minute she walks into my apartment, Fable unzips the puffy coat she hates and tosses it on the chair that sits closest to the door.
Revealing a short black dress that fits her so tight, I swear I almost swallow my tongue when I first see her in it.
Her body is amazing. Her legs, even though she’s short, look endless, and I’m tempted to slowly peel the dress off her body and do every wicked thing I’ve imagined doing to her since I left her with her brother this morning.
Instead, I ask her what toppings she prefers on her pizza and call in the order.
After I hang up, she tells me she wants to get out of the dress and wear something more comfortable, so I offer up a T-shirt of mine.
She follows me back to my bedroom, her sweet scent surrounding me as she stands by my side, and we go through my dresser drawers together.
When I pull the shirt out for her, I watch in disbelief as she casually yanks the dress off over her head, letting it fall to the floor.
Standing in front of me in only a black lace bra and black panties that look more like shorts but are still somehow incredibly sexy, she holds her hand out and wiggles her fingers at me, indicating she wants the shirt.
I hand it over, my mouth too dry to speak, and she tugs the T-shirt over her head.
It’s old, a pale blue with a Hawaiian design on the front.
I picked it up when I went on one of those shitty family vacations to the big island, and I rarely wear it since it reminds me of a time—and a person—I’d rather forget.
But I love seeing the shirt on Fable. How it swallows her up—the hem hits her at about mid-thigh. I know exactly what she has going on under that too-big T-shirt, which makes it even sexier. She’s damn hot.
I want her. But I’m waiting, trying my best to be patient. We need to talk like two responsible adults about to embark on a serious relationship. And we need to eat, because I’ve barely eaten all day and I’m starving.
The pizza arrives less than thirty minutes later and we eat our dinner sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of my coffee table, laughing as we watch a dumb comedy movie on TV.
It’s a distraction we both need after the serious conversation we had in my truck.
I hadn’t meant to take it there, it just sort of happened—not that I regret it.
I hope she believed me when I told her I think she’s amazing. I really do admire the way she handles herself in the face of adversity. She’s so fucking strong, and I’ve felt mostly weak my entire life. Feeling sorry for myself and running from my problems has gotten me nowhere.
Being with Fable, even for just that short week, changed me forever. Made me realize I can be strong. I might relapse and fall back into old habits, but being with her again is the reminder I need to keep going.
Keep being strong.
We polish off the pizza and the movie ends, since we came into it more than halfway through.
We both realize the only thing left to do is talk and she’s quiet, chipping off the bright red polish that covers her short nails.
Her hair hangs in front of her face and I study it, realizing the shade is different.
“Your hair is darker,” I say out of nowhere.
She glances up at me with a small smile. “You finally noticed.”
“When did you change it?”
“A few days ago.” She focuses her attention on me instead of her chipped-up nails. “Promise you won’t get mad?”
Okay, that’s weird. “Promise.”
“My boss asked that I change it. He said my old color made me look cheap.”
Anger fills me. “He sounds like an asshole.” My impression of him lessens with every thing I learn about the guy.
“He’s really not, because you know what?
He was right. I’m a natural blonde, but I started highlighting my hair in high school.
I kept on bleaching it and damaged the hell out of it, too.
So Colin took me to a salon, had them cut off a few inches and darken the color. Now I’m like a new version of myself.”
“I liked the old version, too,” I say stiffly. “You don’t wear as much makeup, either.”
“I gave that up after I came back from Carmel. I was just hiding behind the eyeliner, you know.” She shakes her head. “Do you like the new me?”
“I like everything about you,” I say. “The old you, the new you. All of you.”
She smiles and scoots closer to me. “You say the sweetest things.”
“I mean every word.”
“I know.” She braces her hand on the edge of the coffee table and gets on her knees, coming in so close she brushes her knees against my thigh. “I love that about you. You never, ever hold back what you want to say when it comes to me.”
Turning my head, I meet her gaze. She used the word love so casually and it makes me wonder. Makes me remember what Dr. Harris said. How Fable should be worth the risk if I really am in love with her.
And I know without a doubt I’m in love with her. I can’t deny it.
“Tell me what happened today,” she whispers, her pretty green eyes sparkling in the dim light the lamp is throwing on us. “With your dad.”
I sigh, wishing we didn’t have to go there. Yet knowing it’s necessary to keep our relationship honest. “My dad came here a few days ago to visit me.”
She looks taken aback. “Really?”
“Yeah. He announced that he was divorcing Adele.”
Her eyes narrow at the mention of Adele’s name and I love that. Her immediate defense of me against the woman who irrevocably damaged me is mind-blowing. “That should be a good thing.”
“It is.” I blow out a harsh breath. “Then he called me this afternoon and said he was reconsidering his decision.”
“Why?”
“He says when he went home, they sort of … reconciled.” I don’t go into detail the way my dad did. I figure Fable doesn’t want to know all of that other bullshit I wish I could forget.
“Can I be honest?” she asks.
“Please do.” I need her opinion.
“Your dad is an idiot if he goes back to her.”
I laugh softly. “Trust me, I already know this.”
“Why would he even consider it?” She wrinkles her nose and it’s so cute, I lean in and kiss her there.
“Because she’s a master manipulator and she has my dad’s number.” Which must be sex and lots of promises that will most definitely be broken.
“So your dad got your hopes up in thinking she’ll forever be out of your life and then ruined it all by saying he’s getting back together with her.
” Fable leans back on her haunches, resting her clenched hands in her lap.
She looks ready to punch someone. “And you panicked and called your psychologist for an emergency session on a Sunday afternoon. She sounds like a miracle shrink if you ask me.”
Sort of like my miracle girlfriend, though I don’t say that. How’d I get so lucky to have not just one but two supportive women in my life? “You nailed it.”
“I’m so sorry, Drew.” Reaching out, she touches my cheek, her fingers gently stroking my skin. “Did it help, talking everything over with her?”
“Yeah.” I close my eyes because her fingers on my face feel so damn good and I want to savor her touch just a little longer.
I sense her moving closer, feel the brush of her lips against mine, as light as a feather, and I remain perfectly still, afraid to move for fear of breaking the spell that’s suddenly come over us.
“Would it help talking to me?” She kisses me again, her lips capturing my bottom one only, giving it a little tug before she releases it.
Damn, that felt incredible! Last night and this morning with her had been amazing, but I rushed it in my need to be inside her. She deserves more than that. She deserves to be kissed for hours.
“It always helps, talking to you.” I reach out before she can pull away; though my eyes are still closed, I know exactly where she is.
I curl my hand around her nape and haul her in, our lips perfectly aligned, her breath hot and sweet against my mouth.
“Maybe we should talk more later, though. I’m sort of all talked out. ”
She braces her hands on my chest, her fingers gripping the fabric of my shirt. “If you’re trying to avoid a serious conversation by using sex as a distraction, I might have to protest.”
I crack my eyes open to find her smiling at me. “Really?”
Slowly she shakes her hand, sneaking her fingers beneath the hem of my T-shirt so she can stroke my stomach. “Not really,” she murmurs before she leans in and captures my lips with hers once more.
We should talk. I know we should. There’s still so much to tell her. But I can hardly think when she’s in front of me, touching me, kissing me. I want to drown in her.
So I do. Just for a little while. I touch my tongue to hers and she parts her lips easily, letting me in.
My grip tightens in her hair, pulling a little so her head arches back, her pretty neck on display.
She moans and I break the kiss, running my mouth down the length of her throat, licking and nibbling the fragrant flesh.
She whispers my name and the sound sends a zing straight to my dick. I’ve waited for this all day. Thought about doing this all damn day to her, with her. I’m a man obsessed.
“Maybe—” Her breath hitches when I bite her earlobe. “Maybe we should talk a little more before we do … this.”
“Do what?” I lift my head so I can study her beautiful face. Her cheeks are pink, her lips swollen, her eyes glazed. I’m teasing her and she knows it.
A little smile tickles the corner of her lips. “You know what.” She tunnels her hands up beneath my T-shirt, her fingernails grazing my skin, and I shiver. “You’re being a bad boy, Drew. I didn’t think you had it in you.”
“You bring it out of me.” I pull her toward me and she falls into my lap, wrapping her legs around my hips.
I think this is our favorite position. I know it’s my favorite position tonight, what with her wearing only those panties and my shirt.
I can feel her heat even through my jeans, and I groan when she rocks against me.
“Hmm, what else can I bring out?” She’s tugging at my shirt and I hold my arms up, letting her tug it off me. Her gaze runs greedily over my chest as she licks her lips and I stifle the groan that wants to escape.
She’s trying to kill me. I know it.
“I’ve missed you.” Her words surprise me and by the look in her eyes, I think she surprised herself. “Being with you. Seeing you. Touching you. It’s hard for me to wrap my brain around the fact that we’re sitting here together and it’s not a dream.”
“It’s definitely not a dream.” I touch her face. Gently trace her lips. She’s trembling; I can feel the subtle tremors vibrate beneath my fingers and I bring her lips to mine, connecting them, connecting us, for a long, quiet moment.
No tongues, no passionate, out-of-control kissing. Just our mouths touching; we’re inhaling each other’s breaths as we absorb each other. I need this connection. I think she needs it, too.
Maybe we need each other too much. But I can’t worry about that now. Not when I have the woman I love in my arms, wrapped all around me.