Chapter 6
six
. . .
Realization
Present Day
taven
Friday, 9:58pm
It’s amazing the flood of memories that crash over me as I stare at Desiree, looking annoyed yet beautiful in her hospital gown. It was so many years ago when we met, before the rift in our families and the nightmare that ensued. I think about the time when we were sixteen and had snuck out to see each other, after my parents and hers had cut ties. I remember how painful it was in the beginning, and how surprised I was at how much I missed her, like a limb had been cut off. It felt cruel, but everything was so fucked up, I didn’t know how the hell to navigate any of it
We didn’t get enough time together, me and Desiree. My Dazzle. I bet things could have been different if we had. I bet I would have been different. She was always my rock, even in the beginning, now that I think about it. For those three years from thirteen to sixteen years old. Through all the awkwardness of approaching adulthood, through the hell that was my parents breathing down my neck or me fighting for decent grades to get them off my back. It was Desiree that I felt most comfortable around. She could make me feel like I was actually worth something.
It was pretty terrifying as a kid, truth be told, to be in the presence of a girl I think I knew deep down was out of my league. She was smart, she had this subtle sense of humor, and she didn’t cater to peer pressure or teenage expectations. Dazzle was everything I could never be.
It’s hard to say exactly when I had started to develop a little thing for her, but it was fairly early on. There was that first New Year party we spent together, when the Bingo tradition started. We were mere babies, but I remember staring at Desiree as she walked in with her parents, and she had on these high heels she could barely walk in. It was like that scene from Bambi where he takes his first awkward steps. She was all skinny legs and off-kilter, but something had stirred in me seeing her all dressed up. I saw the preview of the beautiful young woman she would clearly soon become.
For some reason, it scared me. No one was so unconditionally kind to me like Desiree was, or looked at me with a kind of awe like I was something . Not even Evelyn, my puppy love girlfriend at the time.
Evelyn was like a hobby, easy and carefree. She was into sports, like me, and we could talk about our latest soccer games or my lacrosse stuff. Nothing crazy, just simple and fun. With Desiree, though, my thing for her caught me off guard, flaring up insecurities that I know caused me to keep her at arm’s length those first couple of years. I wanted her near, couldn’t ever resist my draw to her, but I was too scared to take the leap—a damn idiot. Why is it that we push away the things we want the most? It wasn’t until later when I finally got the guts to let her know my feelings. Even then, she’s the one that ultimately prompted the conversation .
Maybe that’s exactly how it was supposed to be.
I sit here now and take in the sight of Desiree Hatson—the blonde hair, soaked and wild all around her, the outline of her hips under the flimsy hospital blanket. Hips I have held and driven myself into over and over again, yet it was never enough. My craving for her has never gone away, like it or not. Seeing her now is a new kind of torture. I want to touch her skin, taste that sweet mouth, hold her and beg forgiveness for all the times I fucked things up.
I realize that I still love her. Like no time has passed. All the affection I’ve ever held for my Dazzle, lying dormant in the depths of my heart, now all crawling back out.
I’m fucking engaged, I remind myself. Possibly still engaged, that is.
Either way, I can’t be looking at Desiree like this. I shouldn’t be, anyway. I have a good woman in my life, one that I do care for.
I tell myself that I’m just here to make sure Desiree is okay. Then we’ll part ways like nothing happened. Maybe we could make plans to meet up. Have coffee. A friendly lunch.
Maybe I could claim her once again, fuck her until she screams my name and is begging for mercy. Spread her legs wide and drive myself into her, mouth on her breasts and cock buried inside her.
Fuck me . Think of Evelyn, of what you’re trying to build with her.
I sigh and Desiree blinks up at me with a grin. I instantly feel guilty. “So, you and Evelyn?” she chides. “After all these years?” I swear, it’s like she can read my mind. Fucking Christ. She always could, I never could get away with shit with her. Dazzle always saw right through me.
I lean back in my chair, attempting to make myself comfortable in the green plastic. “Yeah, who would have thought?”
“Childhood sweethearts.” She looks away, and I study her face for a reaction. I watch as she bites her lip, and her beautiful blue eyes blink in some kind of distant expression. Is she hurt by that, by me and Evelyn reconnecting? Or am I just dreaming that the Desiree I knew as a kid, the one that was my friend before all else, that she would even hold any kind of romantic affection for me anymore?
A snort escapes Melissa’s mouth from her spot on the windowsill. “Yeah right.” She darts her chin toward Desiree. “That right there was your childhood sweetheart, remember?”
I can’t help but smile. I always did like Melissa. “I remember,” I agree.
Melissa takes off her poncho, the plastic crinkling and piercing the silence. She walks over to Desiree and grabs her hand. “I can’t fucking believe you were struck by lightning, Dez.”
Desiree lets out a slow groan, and I inch forward in my seat, worried she’s in pain. “Not directly,” she clarifies. “So embarrassing.”
I reach forward and grab her foot, tucked under a blanket. Give it a little squeeze. “What the hell are you talking about? There’s nothing to be embarrassed for.”
“Agreed, Dez,” Melissa chimes in.
“It was a freak of nature.”
It was a zap through some equipment box her calf had been touching when the strike happened. Knocked her clear off her feet and gave me a fucking heart attack. Aside from some redness on her leg, though, and an apparent ringing in her ear, she’s apparently fine, thank God. I can’t even think about what I’d do if she died right then and there. I’d probably go the rest of my life wishing I had died with her.
That’s not the thought to have. I know that.
“What are we waiting on?” Desiree asks, scooting herself up in the bed. “I want to go home. I’m hungry. I need a shower.” Her eyes meet mine. “I keep thinking Taven Carlisle is in my room.”
I look into the pools of blue and try and read her expression. “I am in the room,” I say. I can’t tell if the strike is making her loopy or if she’s just had too much to drink. Or if she’s joking. Maybe all three. I rise out of my seat and stand beside her, grabbing her hand. “Hey, are you alright? Do you remember me there in the tent with you?” I search her face for signs of something. The doctor said her memory might be a bit foggy.
“I…” she starts, her brows furrowed. “Oh, hell, I can’t keep a straight face,” she grins. “I was really hoping to pull off a whole thing of delusion.”
“You always were shit at keeping a poker face,” I tell her, my thumb running circles on the back of her hand. So soft, just like I remember. It’s like the jolt that ran through her is running through me now, too. I miss holding this hand a whole lot more than I should.
Melissa spins around and heads for the door, saying she’ll see what she can do before marching out of the room. A moment later we hear her giving an earful to the nurse or someone, demanding we get our paperwork so we can get of here.
I look back at Desiree and we grin at each other. “I see she hasn’t changed. Glad you guys have stayed friends,” I add.
She nods. “Yeah, me too. Magnets, I guess. Couldn’t stay away from each other.”
I release her hand and sit back down in my chair, trying to ignore the headache I feel coming on. The green glow of overhead lights is doing nothing to help. I reach over to the remote beside Desiree and turn them off.
“Setting the mood, are we?” she jokes. “But what would Evelyn say?” She looks at me with wide and innocent eyes, the piercing blue looking even more gorgeous now than I remember.
“When did you become so funny?”
“I’ve always been funny. You’re just choosing not to remember.”
“I remember you in a Dalmatian costume looking like you needed to ask permission to even speak, Dazzle.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “I was thirteen. A kid. In a new town. What did you expect? I think you pretty quickly learned I was no wallflower.”
I smile, remembering those early days with us together. I don’t remind her that I knew her back when she was a wallflower. Before she hit her strides of confidence, before she had settled into the young beauty that would send me excusing myself to the bathroom to relieve my throbbing dick every five seconds. Still, even before all that, I was crazy about her. I always knew she had a little thing for me, but it took me a lot longer to admit to myself I felt that same thing in return.
I was a coward.
I look back at my Dazzle and let her have the out. “No, you were no wallflower,” I murmur.
“Hmm,” she hums in agreement. “Sure glad the lightning didn’t affect your memory.”
I can’t help but think that there’s certain memories I truly wish I could forget. Memories from five years ago in particular. The ones that haunt me when I close my eyes.