False Start: A Football Romance (45 page)

I hear her mumbling something, but I can't make it out, so I step closer to the door, pressing my ear against it until I'm able to make out the words.

“Please, Lord, show me the way. I want to show her I’ve changed. I'm not that person anymore. Help me. If it's your will, Lord, let it be.”

I pull away from the door as quickly as I can and slip into my own bedroom, shutting the door behind Ashlin. Everything in me wants to erase the last twenty minutes from my mind, but I can't seem to shake the way my mother was silently crying, begging God to help her. I want to pretend it didn't affect me at all, but there is a lump in the middle of my throat that I can't swallow down, reminding me that it did.

It is the first time ever that I have seen such raw emotion coming from her. No one is watching her that she knows of. She wasn't putting on a performance for me or my dad. She was genuinely hurting, probably from overhearing my conversation with my brother in the kitchen. I don’t know what to make of it. Now, instead of just my one question, she effectively left me with a dozen more unanswered.

“What all do you want me to grab?” Ashlin asks, digging through my clothes.

“Um. I think maybe I will just stay here.”

“Are you sure? You know my mom doesn't mind you staying at my house.”

“Yeah. I’m sure. I’ve got a million questions, and if I run from the problem, I'll never get my answers.”

“I understand. I'm really proud of you, Charlee. I know it's going to be hard for you to face all this, but you can do it. I believe in you.”

“Thanks, Ash.

Chapter Twenty- Five

Lucas

I don’t know exactly what the hell is going on, but it’s obvious from the tension in the house that something major happened while I was out this morning. I haven’t seen or heard from Charlee all evening, which is kind of sad, considering we live in the same house and her room is directly across the hall from mine, but after her and Aaron’s confrontation, she locked herself in her bedroom and hasn’t come out—not once.

Lying in the bed, I try to doze off. We have a big game tomorrow, and I need to be on my A game, but I can’t quit thinking about her and wondering if she’s all right. Normally, I would let the annoying, nagging feeling go, but tonight I just can’t. Pulling on a pair of pajama bottoms, I creep out of my bedroom and knock on her door across the hall.

She opens it instantly, almost like she was standing there right beside it, but I can see by the look of surprise on her face that she wasn’t expecting me.

“Are you all right?” I ask, stepping into her room and closing the door behind me.

“Yeah. I’m fine. Why?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen you all evening, and Aaron is acting weird as hell, so I just thought I would check on you.”

“Oh. Yeah. I’m okay. Just a crazy day, ya know. I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“That’s cool. I’ll let you get to bed,” I say.

“Do you want to stay? I mean, would you like to hang out for a few?” she asks, turning from me and putting on a movie.

“Yeah. That sounds great,” I say, sitting on the bed next to her. She leans back against me, nestling her head in the crook of my arm and wrapping her arm around my waist. It’s obvious she needs the company and that she really doesn’t want to be alone right now. Pulling her as close to myself as I can, I hold her tightly, letting her know that I’m here for her.

I kiss her neck softly, causing a shiver to run down her spine. I turn to face her, wrapping my arms around her neck. My lips gently kiss her forehead and then her cheek. I press my forehead to hers and smile, closing the gap between us, and then kiss her. Her mouth covers mine with passion. I groan as her tongue slips into my mouth. Her taste is so sweet. I pull in closer, pressing every inch of myself as close to her as possible. As we kiss, the fire inside me builds.

"Oh, God," she moans into my mouth as I run my fingers down her chest to the waistband of her pajama bottoms. I stop and work my way back up, stopping to flick her right nipple. She growls and rips her lips from mine. I smile at her sweetly, and she begins kissing my neck again, gently at first and quickly increasing in intensity. I moan loudly as she reaches my shoulder. I roll her so she’s on her back and lower myself on top of her. She grabs my arms, feeling the muscles rippling underneath my smooth skin.

I continue kissing down her body, slowly reaching the hem of her shirt and then back up. Sitting up, she raises her arms so I can slip her shirt off, exposing her ample bosom. I slide my tongue from her neck down between her breasts and then lick around the nipple tortuously. Her hips come up off the bed. I'm about to lose my mind when she pulls my head back to hers. Her tongue assaults mine once again as her hands work their way down my waist. I feel her fingers slip beneath my waist band, and my cock jumps when she pushes them down. Her breath is as ragged as my own.

Pulling her as close to me as I can, I feel my erection straining against the fabric of my boxers, begging to be freed. She works her way back to my mouth, kissing me with such intensity my whole body is ablaze. Pulling my mouth from hers, I ease my pants the rest of the way down, freeing my cock at last. She gasps loudly. The shock on her face is obvious, and I can’t help but snicker when she takes in the sight of all eight and half inches, but that’s not what has her mouth hanging open.

She is the first woman to see my Jacob’s ladder. I got my first piercing one year after Kirsten and I separated, and every year on that anniversary, I have added another rung. Now, all five rungs of flat black metal bars line the underside of my dick. I’ve heard they feel great for a woman, but I haven’t tried them out yet. From the look on her face, this is going to be a first for the both of us.

She pulls me back down, kissing me again. The thin fabric of her panties is the only thing between us. I smile, kissing her deeply, and then pull away to begin kissing and licking down her trembling body. I get up on my knees and begin working her panties down her long, silky smooth tanned legs, leaning over and licking her along the inner thigh as I do.

Scooting lower on the bed, I spread her legs, exposing her core. My mouth hovers above her sensitive nub, blowing warm breath on her clit. I take my long finger and rub it up and down her slit. A loud groan escapes her lips as I flick her clit. Slowly, I insert a finger, spreading her tight pussy open, and then move it around with a circular motion.

Sliding my finger out, I replace it with another, plunging two deeper into her wet folds. Her back arches off the bed. She’s close.

I can tell.

I flick my tongue across her clit with each pump of my fingers. “Oh my God," she moans, tangling her hands in the sheets. I lick slowly up and down her slit, sucking her swollen nub into my mouth when I reach the top of her beautiful, sweet pussy.

With each caress of my tongue, she is losing more and more control. Her hips begin to buck against my mouth moments before she screams out my name. Her whole body convulses in pleasure with the first orgasm. She looks down at me between her legs and smiles. Crawling up her soft, creamy toffee skin, I take her mouth with mine once more, letting her taste herself on my lips. She sighs heavily, moaning deeply in the back of her throat, and then she begins to wiggle underneath me, ready for more.

My rock hard erection is pressing into her thigh while I kiss her. Every move she makes brings it closer to her entrance, the one place I want to be more than anything in his world. Leaning back on my heels, I take my cock in my hand, and after spitting on the tip, I begin to stroke myself.

It drives her wild to watch me touch myself. I’m so close to coming right this second, but I want to wait. I want to last for her. I want to make her come over and over again, screaming my name until her voice is raw. Taking my cock, I lightly rub it across her sensitive clit. She’s still drenched in wetness. She grins, feeling the warmth of my hard cock press against her. She thinks I’m going to give it to her, and I am, but I’m going to give it to her how I want.

Rubbing up and down her slit, spreading the warm juices, I get her ready to accept me, and then, when I can’t physically hold out any longer, I shove myself inside of her, filling her with every single inch of me.

She cries out, and for a second, I wonder if I’ve hurt her, but then she grinds her pelvis against mine in the age-old dance of acceptance.

“Do you like that?” I ask, taking her hand and bringing it to my lips. I suck her fingers into my mouth and then bite down gently as I ease out of her tight folds and then pound back into them over and over again.

“Don’t stop,” she commands.

I refuse.

There is no place I’d rather be in this moment or any other . . . ever. Her body is my temple, and I plan to spend every available second worshiping every square inch of it time and time again.

Stop?

Ha. By the time I’m done, she will be begging me to stop.

I feel her tighten around me as her next orgasm courses through her body. Her nails dig into my upper arms, leaving a blood trail, but I don’t care. All I care about is her and making tonight as amazing as I can.

Chapter Twenty- Six

Charlee

Mom has been living under our roof for a month now, and I wish I could say things were getting better, but they aren’t. I do my best to avoid her at all cost. She started coming up to my room every time I’m home and sitting on my bed, trying to make small talk with me. It wouldn’t be all that bad if every time I looked at her I didn't see a shadow of her old self. I keep waiting for the day to come where she reverts back to herself.

Cold.

Selfish.

High.

Every time I have to use the bathroom, I find myself waiting until the last minute before walking in, afraid that I will find her with a needle shoved up her arm again. It hasn't happened yet, but I know the day is coming. People don't just change like that. It's unnatural. Inhuman.

My door cracks open as she knocks and walks in. I set my journal down, annoyed with the way the words are flowing in it, and give her my undivided attention. She seems nervous, and the way she is skirting around whatever she needs to say is putting me on edge too. Sighing, I wait for her gather her nerve and spit it out.

“I was wondering. If you're not busy, that is, if you would mind giving me a ride into town? I really need to run into Wal-Mart for a few things. If not, that's okay. I can wait for your brother to get home and ask him.”

“Oh. Um, Lucas is actually on his way home right now.” I watch her shoulders slump forward and hurry to finish. “I’m sure it’s no problem though, as long as you don't mind him tagging along?”

She instantly brightens, and her happiness actually makes me happy, even for just a moment, and then I remember I'm not supposed to like her, so I erase the smile off my face.

“I'll come get you when he gets here.” I say, dismissing her from my room. I pick my journal back up when I hear the door shut and try to finish my latest work. It’s titled
My Dark Symphony
.

Never again will I feel this pain,

Hearing the echoes of our love

Every time I turn my head, I see your face

Hear your voice screaming my name

Always lost and in vain

The shadow of our past haunts me still

Whenever I pretend to go to sleep

I see you smile at me as the wind takes my breath away

Just another memory that continues to appear

In my dark symphony . . .

I take a ride on this train

Chasing these tracks to a room by the lake

Thinking of your smile

I look into the blue white sky

Your eyes are always in my mind

All I wanted was to hold you while you disappeared

Leaving me here alone, you went your own way

It’s just another sad story

Lost inside my memories

As I bask in the arms of my dark lover

But she will never replace you

My sweet dark symphony . . .

Ride along with me

Ride along with me

You and I together we will be

Just another note stuck

In my dark symphony . . .

Feeling your presence everywhere I go

Wanting to feel your touch

Every time I surrender to her

My sweet monster . . .

I close my eyes and still pretend

You and I are making memories

In my dark symphony . . .

Ride along with me

Ride along with me

You and I together we will be

Just another note stuck in my dark symphony . . .

Lucas finally talked me into showing him some of the poems I have written last week, and he suggested I let him put them to music. The thought intrigues me as much as it terrifies the living hell out of me. I have always just written what I felt or sometimes didn’t feel, and the thought of someone else reading them or hearing them scares me to death. Even if no one knows they are actually mine, I imagine people would figure it out. Like they would hear a line or two, and all heads would turn toward me, followed by loud outcries of FREAK and LOSER. Then again, I’m probably giving myself too much credit. I’m the invisible girl that no one notices. Except for Lucas. He notices me . . . a lot.

We have grown closer since the day in the cemetery, or maybe it was the day Aaron and I had the falling out and Lucas came to my room. That was a night I wouldn’t soon forget. I was forced to share some of my past with him that evening so he could better understand what was going on, and oddly, it didn’t bother me to share anything with him. I guess in a way, I felt if anyone can understand pain and heartache, it’s him. I still walked on egg shells for an entire week after that, waiting for him to decide it was too much for him and to run in the opposite direction, but he didn't. It surprised me.

It scared the hell out of me.

I hear him pull up outside and remember that I never asked him if he was cool going to Wal-Mart with us, so I run down the hall and meet him as he reaches the door.

“Hey. You mind riding to the store with Mom and me?” I ask breathlessly.

“No. Of course not.”

“Cool. Thanks, babe.” I lean in and, standing on my tiptoes, I give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Mother, let’s go,” I yell for her, and moments later, we are all crawling in the car and headed to Wally World.

I have a serious addiction to all things Wal-Mart. It doesn't even make sense. I just absolutely adore this place. I mean, what other store on the face of the earth can you buy clothes, food and animals at? Not to mention food to feed said animals, as well as shampoo and flowers and . . . online, you can even purchase funeral caskets and urns. Seriously, look it up. Not to mention that everything is dirt cheap. It has to be my favorite store . . . ever. I'm practically bouncing in my seat just thinking about what I need to buy today. Which brings me to the only downfall of Wal-Mart. It is impossible to go inside its glorious blue walls and make it back out without purchasing something—anything. I’m telling you. Just try it one day.

Lucas’s eyes meet mine in the rearview mirror, and he chuckles to himself, knowing what a treat this for me. He thinks I’m nuts. I might be . . . a little, but he loves me anyway.

Whoa.

Did I just say he loves me? Does he? I haven't really thought about it before right now. My bouncing stops. Flashes of our time together over the last few weeks spin through my head. I see him kissing me. Watching me. Smiling at me. Touching me. Always. My mouth is suddenly dry, and I think I might hurl into his backseat floorboard. He notices the difference in my behavior.

“What's wrong, Charlee? Did you leave your purse at home?” He laughs at his own joke. I laugh too . . . sorta. But my mind is somewhere else. I'm so happy he can't read my thoughts, because they would probably give him whiplash right now. I can't focus on one single thought.

Does he . . . love me?

Is it possible?

Do I?

Oh my God. I do.

We park near the front of the store, and when Mom pulls the seat forward, I rush out.

“Grab Everly for me, please?” I ask, making a beeline for the store.

I hear them both laughing behind me, joking that I’m in a hurry for a sale, but really, I just need a minute—alone. I head straight for the bathroom and close the stall door, shutting the world out. My head drops to my hands as my heart drops to the floor.

I freaking love Lucas Bouchard.

Fuck.

The tears start falling as soon as I think it, and I have no idea why. I should be happy. I should be jumping up and down and screaming it from the rooftops. I Love Lucas! And yet, I feel like puking. How did I not see this coming? We spend almost every single day together. He’s funny, sweet, charming, and he takes care of me. He's a good guy. A really good guy, and he deserves so much better than me.

He doesn't need to know.

I can hide it.

Yeah. That's what I’ll do. I don't really have any other choice, unless I want to break up with him and never see him again. My heart constricts painfully in my chest just thinking that. No, I can't do that. I'll just go on pretending I didn't have an earth-shattering epiphany in the car. I’ll pretend I'm not head over heels in love with him and maybe—hopefully—things will be okay.

My mother walks in the bathroom on my way out, startling me. She looks me up and down before pulling me back to the sink and opening her purse. She pulls out some facial powder and passes it me. I take it, grateful to have something to help cover up the fact that I have been crying, but I don't know how to say that to her.

“It's okay, ya know,” she says, leaning against the wall, watching me.

“What's okay?” I ask.

“Loving him. Letting him love you. Not everyone in your life is going to hurt you . . . like I did.” I don't know how to respond to that. I glance up at her in the mirror. She is staring down at the floor, but a part of her must sense my gaze, because she looks up, and the sadness I see reflected in her eyes captures me. I pull my gaze away, ashamed to witness that much emotion coming from her. I'm supposed to hate her. She ruined my life. But over the last few weeks, I’ve noticed something different about her. She has become selfless.

“Maybe.” I say, and maybe she is right. Maybe it is okay. If only I could find the courage to let myself go so freely. If only I could overcome the one thing standing in my way—myself. I turn, handing her the powder back, and smile a halfhearted smile. That smile says everything I can't say right at that moment, everything I don't know if I'll ever be able to say.

My simple, sweet smile tells her,
Thank you
. It tells her,
I'm glad you have changed
,
I'm glad I got to know this version of you
. She understands the words I can't say, and in her returning smile, I hear,
You're welcome
, and
Maybe one day
.

Yeah. Maybe one day, Mother.

We separate when we leave the bathroom, our moment in time over, even though it keeps playing over and over in my mind. I wonder if I was wrong about her all this time. Maybe she has changed. Maybe she was never that person, and the burning addiction just had its grip too tight on her. I wonder if I’ll ever know.

Do I want to?

Maybe.

I find Lucas at the back of the store, digging through the five-dollar bin of movies. He smiles when I walk up, covering his eyes with my hands.

“Guess who.”

“Hmm . . . Michael Meyers?”

“Nope, try again.”

“Captain Hook?”

“Ha! Nope.”

“I know! It's the crazy stalker chick from Alabama. The one who kept leaving me love notes!”

I pull my hands away and stab at his ribs, demanding he take it back. We are both laughing so hard, it's hard to breathe. He manages to twist around and pin my arms to my chest while he holds me close.

“Okay, okay, I take it back. Gah, crazy lady . . .” It feels so good in his arms, cocooned in the safety of his embrace. I don't want to ever move, but it’s time to go, and I don't think we would be able to walk all the way up front like this, although I am willing to try. He pulls back and looks down at me for a moment before lowering his lips to mine. They collide in a blast of heat. Everything I’m feeling comes through in that kiss, answered by his own. I could continue kissing him forever. Who needs food or water when you have Lucas Bouchard’s lips? They are more than enough for me.

We’re waiting by the front of the car when Mom walks out. She only has one bag in her hands, and I wonder what was so important that we needed to come to Wal-Mart for, but that's her business, not mine. She looks across the lot, spotting us, and crosses over. I see it happening in slow motion. She's just made it across the busy intersection when she trips, falling to her knees. I don't think about the fact that I don't like her, or about the hell she put me through. I don't think at all. I rush over to her and squat next to her. Several people are looking now, but no one is checking on her, and this pisses me off. Lucas joins me and helps me stand her back up. Her palms are bleeding from breaking her fall on the asphalt, and there is a giant hole in her jeans, showing a scraped knee as well.

“I'm okay. Really. I'm just a klutz,” she says, trying to reassure me as we walk to Lucas's car. I picked her bag up off the ground where it fell beside her, her white prescription bag having spilled out of it. I want to look at it, to see what medicine she’s taking, but it's not my business. If she wants me to know, she can tell me. I let her ride up front with Lucas again, not wanting to make her crawl into the backseat, even though she complains about it.

Lucas puts the car in reverse and meets my eyes in the rearview mirror. My body is shaking. I try to stop it, to hold it in, but I can't, and then her body starts shaking in the front seat, and the entire car is bouncing from our laughter. I can't hold it in anymore. Tears are running down my face. Maybe it's the adrenaline wearing off, maybe shock. I don't know, but whatever it is, we are both losing it. Lucas looks from one of us to the other before shaking his head and looking back at the road.