A Fighting Chance (34 page)

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Authors: A.J. Sand

BOOK: A Fighting Chance
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“Yeah, whatever you get. Thanks.” But my stomach
clamps on itself in disagreement. It’s not having any of that shit. I flop down onto the bed as the door shuts. The only thing I need right now is sleep, especially because my pain meds are wearing off.

I don’t know how long I
do sleep, but my eyes are suddenly open again; though, my brain only registers that I’m awake when Drew’s hand skates across my bare stomach. She doesn’t even give me a chance to ask anything before her face lowers to mine. I don’t interrupt. I just let our lips and tongues connect. I’m
not
going to stop Drew Hallisay from kissing me, even if I’m groggy and not sure which direction is up just yet. I’m not going to stop her from putting her hand down my PJs, either. I am hard as concrete in a few seconds from the tight grip she forms around my dick, and an ache of desire spirals through my core. My mouth drifts to her neck, and my palm slides up her warm thigh to the edge of her underwear. Her legs are between mine but she adjusts so that she can straddle my hips. She peels her top off, and I grip the back of her neck with my good hand to pull her lips against mine again. Her breaths become moans as I knead her breast. I cup her ass, sliding her hips forward, and Drew arches up to grip the headboard. While her nipple is in my mouth, she writhes on me until I feel the wet heat between her thighs on my stomach.

Wild lust pounds into me and I
grab the front of her underwear, pulling it away from her skin. “Take ‘em off…I need these to come off,” I say but I slide them down some until she wriggles out of them on her own. She assists me in getting my PJs and boxers down before she straddles me again. I can’t see much of her in the dark room; she’s just a silhouette of curves. My hand lands on her chest and I draw my fingers down her soft torso, her knees squeezing my sides as I stroke below her bellybutton. Drew shudders when I finger her clit until she’s slick. She leans down over me, hand clutching the edge of the mattress, and soon I feel the rumble of her orgasm travel from the pit of her stomach and end at a gasp against my ear.

She
jostles me as she reaches over the side of the bed. I hear the familiar crackle of a condom wrapper. The condom’s on me a few seconds later in a coordinated effort between us. She bends to my ear. “Please make me forget, Jess,” she pleads. It’s probably the best plan either of us has had in a while. Forgetting.
“Make everything okay. Just make me feel something else. Tell me everything’s all right. Make it all right.”

So I
guide myself into her, and hope to paint the most beautiful lie I can. I keep her right where she is—pinned against me, hair draped over my face—and I grind my pelvis against her with soft thrusts. She rides me with a slow roll of her hips, and the pleasure numbs everything as it sucks me into delirium. We’re both sweating, skin gliding, our bodies hot enough to ignite. Her tongue brushes my ear and when she says my name, the tightly wound pressure in my gut is immediately on the verge of bursting. But it feels so fucking good that I just give in. I come hard with my head thrown back, rocking up into Drew as far as I can go, and pressing her against me until we’re both out of air.

I guess I need this lie
, too.

****

The next morning, I wake up to a door slamming, and the walls barely block the sound of a woman cursing. Thin ass walls. I smile with my eyes still closed, and have no doubt that the neighbors probably heard us last night. My morning wood twitches with the memory of Drew’s body on top of me, and I reach to the other side of the bed. I know we both needed the distraction last night but…
sex is sex
. This morning, though, I just want to hold her and find my own comfort in the crook of her neck.

My hand
moves over cool sheets, and my eyelids fly open. The room is dark but the sun is pitching streams of light in through the blinds. “Drew?” The shower isn’t running, and that shakes most of the drowsiness out of me.
She probably went to get breakfast.
I swing my legs to the floor and notice that her bag is not where it was last night. It’s gone. In fact, the room looks like I checked in alone.
She’s gone.
Dread slams into me like a bullet and goes straight for my lungs, but my mind is too clouded with confusion to pay much attention to the burning at my sternum.

“Drew?” I call out one more time as I snatch my
crumpled jeans off a chair and yank a shirt from my bag. Shoes on, keys in hand, I jog out of the room and go straight to the front desk. The bellhop tells me that Drew had asked him questions about the nearest bus station as she waited for a cab. There’s one nearby with a nonstop to Monterrey, and she can change buses there for one to Brownsville, Texas.

She’s going home.

I sprint to my car and drive off with him shouting directions behind me. I’m surprised they stick because there’s not much room for any other thoughts, except for questioning why she left. What if she’s already on a bus?
My blood is cooking me from the inside out. The traffic in Mexico is scary as fuck, so to say I’m driving fast
even for Mexico
is to say my brakes are going to be worthless if I need them, because my car will be flipping like it’s at a gymnastics tryout.

Eventually
, the bus station appears on my left. There are lines of people struggling with luggage and filing onto the buses. Some of them are already pulling off for the highway when I park and run inside. It’s a sea of black chairs, a loud PA system, and garbled conversations, but I manage to spot Drew buying popcorn. She grimaces and her entire body stiffens when she sees me.

Really?
She’s
pissed? Irritation digs into my throat and my words are gravelly when I speak.
“You weren’t even going to say good-bye? You’re just leaving? Why? Was it last night? You regret—”

“No, Jesse. I don’t have any regrets. None.”
Yet, she’s clearly spiteful when she pushes past me.

I
step into her path. “Then, what’s the problem?”

“That
is
the problem.
I don’t have any regrets
. When it comes to you, I don’t have
any.
” Her tone starts out flat but edges into annoyance as she shoves by me again. “Buck wasn’t really okay with me coming to Mexico
at all
, okay? But look where the fuck I am. And I came here
knowing
I’m
in love
with another woman’s boyfriend, knowing I still
wanted
you. I stopped wearing my ring after Polanco. I don’t even know where in my bag it is. But, hell, I would have fucked you in that bathroom, just like I did,
with
my goddamn ring on.
And…
still no regrets.”

I glance around as a few heads turn our way. Her raised voice is attracting a lot of attention. “Will you come outside and talk to me? In the car?”

She relents in silence but she won’t let me touch her while we’re walking out of the station. “There isn’t anything I wouldn’t have done for you during that fight with Carlos. Nothing else mattered, except getting you out,” she continues.

I slide my hand into hers. “And I’m always going to be grateful for that, Drew. To you and Miguel—”

“No…” She jerks out of my grasp. “All I’ve
ever
done is carve out a space for you inside me, Jesse. And I’m afraid it’s gotten so big, it’s going to eat me alive one day. It certainly got Miguel killed. I’m leaving before you completely destroy me again.” The stinging words come with resolute finality as she heads back for the station.

“So you can go be with Buck?” I shout after her, my puls
e firing at a maniacal pace. Drew keeps walking. “‘Cause you’re not even fucking in love with him.” That stops her in her tracks and I don’t care if I shouldn’t have said it.

“Excuse me?” A car narrowly misses her angry stride back to me. “
You know what? You’re about to earn the title of being the first person I have ever slapped. Don’t you
fucking
dare. Don’t you fucking
dare
say anything else. You don’t
get
to have an opinion about what I do, asshole. You
left
me.”

“That’s not exactly the truth.”

“You left me with everything you hated about Glory, so don’t you act like you were still invested. Yeah, we broke up but you
swore
to me we would stay friends.”

“You’re so fucking wrong.”

“Oh? You didn’t walk away from all the things you didn’t care about?”

“Drew—”

“You left your
trash
behind, didn’t you!” She gives me a weak push. “I called you for FOUR years.
Four years.
And I did it every time with the stupid hope that you would answer just once. Even if it was to tell me to fuck off. I’m pathetic. I’m so
weak
.” Tears are streaming down her cheeks with the same fury she’s letting out right now as she pounds on my chest. “I’m weak and I’m
mean
. I was planning the life I want
with you
with another man, hoping it would make me forget all about
us
.” She pushes me again. “God, I’m so fucking in love with you, Jesse, that sometimes I
resent
you for it. Sometimes I just want to
hate
you for making me feel this way. I want to
hate
you because I can’t let go. But
you
…you let go so easily, didn’t you!”

“Drew, stop.” I hug her tight against me
, even though it’s killing my sling-less arm, and she gives up. “I walked away from the things I cared about, too. I was holding you back, baby. I was fucking holding you back, so your dad asked me to walk away…”


My father?” She lets out a dry laugh, her body tensing up again. “My goddamn father? You mean the one who threw me out ‘cause I was having your kid?”

I freeze. “What…what?” One minute my feet are planted firmly on the ground
, and the next I’m falling off a cliff too fast to scream or even flail futilely. I drop my arms to my sides but Drew doesn’t move. “What kid? What kid, Drew?” I need to sit. Anywhere. Fast. Luckily, I make it to the backseat of the car. The opposite door opens and she gets in next to me.


You…we had a baby?” I slump down in the seat and expect my heart to launch itself out of my mouth at any moment. A baby. A human being. Holy shit. What does she look like? I don’t know why I assume it’s a girl. I want to be a father to a little boy someday, be the one I didn’t have, but being a dad to a little girl just sounds so fucking cool. Maybe because Drew’s so beautiful I’d want a little carbon copy of her. Big curly black hair and dark brown eyes. Drew’s smile, too. Her laugh. Definitely her laugh.
Only one Hallisay temper allowed, though, and her mom can keep it.
I smile to myself.

“No, I…lost it.
Pretty early on…” Drew explains just above a whisper. The image of the baby girl evaporates, and suddenly this news is more jarring than the pregnancy revelation. It hurts a lot more, too.

“I’m so sorry…” I hear my
voice but it sounds disembodied.

“I didn’t mean to drop
it on you like that, I’m sorry. Heat of the moment.” Concerned eyes shift to me and I shake my head in defiance.

“No, Drew, don’t apologize to me.
I’m sorry you went through that…” I reach over and I’m glad she lets me take her hand. “Were you alone? Please tell me you didn’t go through that alone. Your parents kicked you out?”

She nods. “It’s why we don’t talk anymore. We live in the same town, and I won’t speak to them or go see them or acknowledge that they’re alive. They were so happy when they found out we were going to separate colleges and ecstatic when I left before you did. You were no longer going to be able to
taint
their perfect daughter. And then it all came back when I told them I was pregnant.”

I’m remembering
that summer now. “You left for A&M to do that scholars program before orientation, but you were still coming home pretty regularly, because I hadn’t gone to Hamilton yet.”


Yeah, and we were still having sex pretty regularly, too. The last time we were together before you actually left, I was home for a while, and we were pressing our luck the whole time. Sometimes using condoms and sometimes not. I couldn’t get the morning-after pill anywhere around Glory. When I finally did get it back at school, I just assumed all was well and didn’t think much about it, ‘cause I figured, ‘Well, I took the pill.’ But, obviously, I had missed the window for the most effective use, or I was already pregnant. I confirmed the pregnancy at the school health center, and after it sank in, I decided to go home and tell my parents. It wasn’t something I wanted to say over the phone, especially if I had chosen to keep it. My father was so angry, which was understandable, but I learned quickly it wasn’t really because I was pregnant. It was because I was pregnant by
you.
He would’ve married me off had it been anyone else. He called you such awful names. And suddenly my pro-life father was making calls to anyone who could
fix my problem
quietly and do it outside of Glory
.
I hadn’t even made a decision yet.”

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