Chapter 10 #2
“First, I lost him, then I lost her. Then I lost my fucking self, just to almost lose Lio,” North mumbles, his gaze fixed on me. “But you found me.” Tears start to well in his eyes, and it tugs at my heart.
Why does my heart hurt seeing him like that?
I should enjoy him being at rock bottom.
Sitting on the cold concrete, like he left me.
“I can’t seem to keep one good thing in this life. I can’t seem to not fuck up, just for once. Not for you, and not for Lio. The most important things and I’m not able to keep them because I’m lost.”
“Maybe because they’re not things,” Saylor points out.
North starts to sob, gripping my hoodie and getting on his knees before me. “Please forgive me, please. I love you… I love you, Sloan.”
Shock runs through me like an electric jolt as I process what he just said.
He’s never called me Sloan before.
“You don’t,” I tell him, trying to pry his hands off me, but he’s holding on too tightly.
“Don’t bother, he’s not gonna remember any of this tomorrow. Let him talk,” Saylor advises with sad eyes.
“Please, please, I love you so damn much.” North’s voice breaks, his breath heavy with alcohol.
“I love you too, but I love myself more. And you don’t stand by and let people you love get treated like shit, even if it’s yourself.” I look up at Saylor, who nods proudly.
“I fucked up. I know. I promise never to hurt you again. Tell me how I can fix this,” North pleads once more, his voice growing heavier.
“You can’t,” I simply state.
There’s no use in telling him what I want from him. I don’t even know it myself, and he won’t remember it in a few hours anyway.
“There has to be a way,” North whispers.
“You don’t have to fix this. You have to fix yourself. For you, for Lio. Get your priorities straight. I’m not the first in line,” I tell him, watching his lips turn down as the words sink in.
“You’re right. You’re always right. That’s why I love you.
You’re so damn capable,” North tells me, his words slurring.
“You’re like a badass Barbie, the mechanic.
” My hackles rise once more, and I can’t help but scoff, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
“Who fucking needs Ken if Barbie can do shit herself? She kicks ass. And looks so damn beautiful doing it.”
He leans back again and starts to slide down the van toward me until his head falls on my shoulder, mumbling something.
Fuck, why? Why can’t they just leave me alone? I can’t handle all these feelings.
It’s as if I’m being thrown around by waves of guilt and heartache, anger and sadness. Not getting a second to come up for air.
“What am I supposed to do now?” I ask Saylor, my voice pleading.
Please, somebody tell me what to do.
“Call Hunter,” Saylor suggests with a shrug. “Or leave him outside. He deserves it.”
I shoot Saylor a look before I rummage in my pocket to pull my phone out and dial Hunter’s number. He picks up after the first ring.
“Shortcake! I… Sloan, hey,” he stutters, clearly surprised I’d call him.
“Please come pick up your brother. He’s drunk in front of my van, and I don’t want to deal with his ghost haunting me when he dies of hypothermia.”
“Wait, wha—” Hunter starts, but I’ve already hung up on him.
A heavy silence falls between us, and North turns slightly, taking a deep whiff from my neck, sending shivers down my spine as goose bumps erupt where the warm air tickles my skin as he slurs, “You smell so damn good. Like holidays in the Caribbean.”
Saylor chuckles when North licks up my throat. I can’t take it anymore and abruptly stand, causing North to fall on his face. “That’s enough.”
I stand next to Saylor, patting the dirt from my jeans. When North groans, face still on the concrete, Saylor laughs, but my attention is on the approaching headlights. Hunter’s truck comes to an abrupt halt before Nash and Hunter pile out of it.
“Pretty girl.” Nash smiles sadly at me while Hunter’s eyes are fixed on North, cursing softly under his breath.
“Where’s Lio?” I ask, my frown deepening.
I swear if they let him alone again, I’m going to—
“Sleeping in his car seat,” Hunter tells me before crouching next to North. “You okay, bro?”
North mumbles something incoherent, so I answer for him, “Blackout drunk but fine otherwise. You got this?”
Nash makes his way over to me, pushing a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “We got this. You okay?”
I nod, trying to push aside the complicated feelings that have bubbled up inside me with his nearness.
Can’t I get a fucking break?
“Night,” I say coldly, stepping over North and opening the sliding door to my van. Then, without a second look, I climb inside, closing the door behind me.
“Fuck,” I whisper to myself, focusing on my breathing while listening to Nash and Hunter groaning as they struggle to navigate North into the car.
“I love her so damn much,” North declares loudly with a sigh.
“Same,” comes the unanimous response from Hunter and Nash while Saylor smirks at me.
Why?
Why do they make this so damn hard?
My emotions start to overwhelm me. Tears fill my eyes, washing Saylor’s smirk from his face. “No, hey, Boo, don’t cry, please.”
Truck doors slam, and the engine roars to life as the guys drive out of the parking lot, leaving silence in their wake.
Gone.
The sob I’ve been holding back finally breaks free.
“Fuck, I’ve got you,” Saylor reassures me in a soothing tone.
“You’re not alone.” He cups my cheek and kisses me where tears trail down, leaving wet marks on my face.
After he lets me cry for a little while, I calm down, and he leans back to smile at me.
“I would call you pretty, but beauty is on the inside, and I haven’t been inside you yet,” he whispers, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
That makes a genuine laugh escape my lips, although it’s watery. “You’re ridiculous,” I accuse while pushing away the tear stains on my cheeks with the back of my hands.
Saylor’s eyes lock onto mine, filled with sincerity.
“And you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my existence.
” He leans in to kiss me, and I welcome the tingles that distract me from the lingering pain in my chest. “Do you need more comfort or distraction?” he asks after he breaks the too-short kiss.
“Comforting distraction,” I breathe out, making him chuckle.
“How about we pick up where we left off last time?” Saylor asks, his gaze piercing as his finger glides over my temple.
This is what I need right now.
Him.
I nod, scooting up the bed, and Saylor follows suit. I lay on my back, and he leans over me, his finger trailing over my body before he leans in to pepper my face with kisses.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, letting go of everything pulling me down, trying to anchor myself in the moment. Saylor’s fingers trace patterns on my stomach, and when I open my eyes again, desire burns in his gaze.
Gradually, he lets his hand drift upward, taking his time. “How about you lose your jeans? Must be so uncomfortable.”
I smirk at him. “They are.”
Opening the zipper, I shimmy out of them, then shed my sweater, too, leaving me in my panties and bra.
Saylor’s heated gaze never leaves my body as I unclasp my bra, throwing it on the ground. “This view just never gets old,” Saylor groans out, making me laugh before he leans in and licks my nipple while his hand slides down to my pelvis, stroking me over the fabric.
“Oh my God,” I breathe out, overwhelmed by the sensations spreading over my skin.
“Good?” Saylor’s voice is soft, his mouth still on my nipple when my hand finds the back of his head, stroking it, making him groan against me, and I could swear I feel the vibration.
I gasp as he does the same to my other nipple, and when his gaze comes back to mine, there is a smile tugging at the side of his lips. “Do you like that?” he asks again, his voice raspy.
“Yes, a lot.” I nod, reaching up to cup his cheek, making him lean into the touch. “What can I… how can I make you feel good too?”
“Shh,” he hushes me, pecking my lips. “I feel good when I can make you feel good. Maybe we can find a way together to…” He trails off, and I guess if he still could, he would blush right now.
“Fuck, I want to make you come so fucking bad,” he growls, and I swear I’m not going to survive his dirty mouth.
I was already wet just from lying here, letting him watch and touch me, but his words just made my pussy clench around nothing.
“W-we can try. I would l-love to try,” I stammer out nervously.
Why does this feel like I’m eighteen again, getting touched for the first time?
“Take off your panties for me,” he commands, and I do as I’m told, his words sending a thrill of anticipation through me.
He grins, but his eyes remain heated when his hand wanders down my stomach and between my legs. He lets his fingers glide up and down my slit without a barrier this time, and the tingling sensation is intense and right where I need it to be.
“Oh, wow.” My breaths are coming out fast and heavy, my chest heaving.
“Like that?” he whispers, letting his finger move in circles just above the spot where my clit is, making me gasp.
“I love how you look when you come. The face you make? God, it’s playing on repeat in my mind.
How you bite your lip and press your eyes closed, how your breath hitches.
The little beads of sweat that form in the hollow of your throat, just here.
” He uses his other hand, letting his fingers settle at the point before sliding to my breast.
The tingling sensation spreads over my most sensitive spots, causing me to squirm, my heart racing. A sheen of sweat covers my skin as the pleasure starts to build.
Holy shit.
“How your toes curl,” Saylor continues, looking down at my feet. “Fuck, yes, just like that,” he groans out. “I loved watching how you came for my brother and how you made yourself come, but I need you to come for me now. Can you do that?”
“Yes,” I breathe out, my voice and body trembling, already feeling my orgasm building.
Saylor leans down to bring his lips to my other nipple, and I might combust, drowning in a wave of tingles and utter bliss. Shuddering, my hips rock with each aftershock, and I press my eyes closed with a moan, just as he told me I would.
When I open them again, he’s leaning back, watching me come, while his fingers don’t stop moving over my pussy until my body settles and I relax into the bed. I lay there, trying to catch my breath, unable to form words, my mind blown.
The heat in Saylor’s eyes is replaced by affection when he whispers, “So fucking beautiful.”
But then his face contorts with frustration, mirroring the turmoil boiling up inside me as I see him start to struggle.
No, not now, please.
“Please don’t leave me.” My voice is a mere whisper, fragile, breaking with the vulnerability I can’t disguise.
Saylor’s eyes widen, his distress clear as day. “Please don’t hate me.” His plea is a desperation that claws at me before he disappears.
The lingering warmth of his presence evaporates into a chill of abandonment I know too well. The echo of his plea mingles with my solitude, leaving me to face the haunting silence that follows.