Aflame (Fall Away #4) (11 page)

You never melted underneath me, either,
he continued.
Every time I pushed, you pushed back. I’d thrust my cock inside of you, and you’d push your fucking back up off the bed, rubbing your nipples against my lips and begging for my tongue. You always liked it hard.

The ache at my entrance was so hot and sweet. I needed him so bad. No one drove me wild like he did. The rush of need flooded me, and I felt the wetness through my shorts as I rubbed the nub harder.

I closed my eyes, imagining him flipping me onto my stomach and sliding into me. Sweat covered my brow as I remembered, just like it was yesterday, that fucking fantastic pain I always felt when he entered me. It was a small hurt, but I loved it. He’d hit so deep inside, and the stretch and pressure were sweet.

I brought up the phone to see his new message.

Do you remember graduation night? In my car, out by the lake? It was so hot. Your dress was torn and on the floor of the car, and you put on my necktie. It was the only thing you were wearing.

I remembered. I’d straddled him in the backseat with his tie lying between my breasts. He couldn’t take it. He’d attacked like a wild dog, nearly eating me alive.

Tate, you don’t know what you do to me. You drive me out of my mind. Your words, your laughter, your tears, your eyes . . . everything about you owns me.

“Me, too,” I whispered, a tear spilling out of the corner of my eye and dripping down my temple.

I swallowed, rubbing my legs together to get rid of the ache.

I’m a better man, but there’s never been a better woman for me. There’s never been anyone like you,
he texted.

I fisted my hands, needing to come. I gasped, wanting him to make me come, but I crashed my fist to the bed, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

He’d hurt me too much, and no matter the physical attraction that still existed between us, that hadn’t changed. I needed to remember that.

I want to crush his fucking hands when he touches you.

But honestly . . . ,
he continued,
it’s a hell of a turn-on watching another man have what I want.

Yeah, just like me seeing him with another woman. I hated it, and it hurt, but it made me feel possessive, too. It made me want to fight.

In fact, I’m steel-rod straight right now.

My lungs emptied, and I dragged my bottom lip through my teeth, almost smiling, but I stopped myself. Jared—hard and ready—was a sight that never failed to make my mouth water. I pictured him holding himself right now, even though I was lying down and I couldn’t see him.

It was another minute before he texted again.

You look hot. You should take off that sweatshirt before you go to bed.

My eyes rounded, and I shot off the bed, gaping out my French doors. He didn’t see me, did he? It was dark in here. Light over there. I ran my hand though my hair, shame heating my face.

Peeking to get my line of sight out the doors, I saw Jared still standing in the golden glow of the lamp that he’d turned on before. Even through the tree and the darkness, I could see the self-satisfied look in his eyes before he looked down and texted once more.

I remember everything, Tate,
he texted.
And I know you do, too.

I let phone drop to the bed, seeing the amusement in his eyes turn to a dark threat as he pulled the drapes closed and disappeared.

Fuck.

Tate

I pounded along the sidewalk, sneakers cushioning the impact as I leaped over the curb and across the street. Three Days Grace’s “I Hate Everything About You” blared through my earbuds, and I was covered in sweat from my stomach up to my head.

I was in good shape, and I normally didn’t push for speed on my runs, but the fact that I was gulping in air let me know that I’d gone too far and hard. I never got out of breath on my regular morning jogs.

Slowing to a walk as I stepped onto the sidewalk on my side of the street, I pulled up the hem of my black tank top and wiped off my face.

My cropped black stretch pants were damp with my sweat, and the fabric itched my thighs.

They were pissing me off.

My ponytail dragging across my back was pissing me off. My aching feet, and the fact that I hadn’t managed to run my unwanted energy out of my body, both pissed me off.

I hadn’t been this pissed off in a long time.

I’d woken to the sound of Jared’s motorcycle piercing through my sleep like a flood of hot water over my skin, and I lay in bed, flattened to the mattress, suddenly desperate for one of his morning visits. I’d always been in the mood more in the mornings, and having his naked body nestled between my legs, begging for entry, used to be a damn nice way to wake up.

But he’d sped off, and I certainly didn’t want what my body might have craved.

I walked into my house, set my keys, along with my iPod and earbuds, on the entryway table, and walked into the kitchen, Madman trailing behind me. Firing up my laptop on the table, I proceeded with making an omelet while I downed two bottles of water and chopped some fruit.

It had been hard to try to eat healthy with the schedule I kept. The hospital always had boxes of Krispy Kremes, cookies, and other treats floating around, and since I was either reading at the library, reading at home, or working on my car when I wasn’t working or at school, I had a hard time not grabbing what was convenient in a rush. Thankfully, my weekends were free, so I food prepped by premaking salads and healthy snacks.

Although I did still snatch up a chocolate-glazed doughnut any chance I got.

Sitting down at the table, I dialed my father for our once-a-week video chat.

“Hey, Dad,” I greeted him, cutting into a piece of my omelet with spinach, mushrooms, and cheese. “How’s beautiful Italy? Staying away from all of the wine, right?” I teased, stuffing the loaded fork into my mouth.

“Actually, wine is good for the heart,” he pointed out with laughter in his blue eyes. My eyes.

“Yeah, one glass,” I clarified. “Not five, okay?”

He nodded. “Touché.”

My dad wasn’t big on alcohol, but I knew he’d taken a particular liking to the food in certain countries where he’d been assigned over the years. Italy being one of them.

But a few years ago his lifestyle finally took a toll on his body. He had a hectic schedule, little consistency in his routine, poor eating habits because he was always on the go, and little to no exercise due to the travel. He had two heart attacks while abroad and didn’t even tell me. I had been livid when I found out.

Now I stayed in better contact to nag him more. I’d dipped into my savings and sent him a treadmill for Christmas one year, and I even scoped out the grocery stores in whatever area he lived in, so I could push him to their salad bars and organic selections.

Thankfully, he put up with it. He’d been my only parent for about twelve years now, and he finally got a clue and realized I needed him around for a long time to come.

“Are you at the house?” he asked, looking around me. “I thought you were staying with Madoc and Fallon.”

I shrugged, concentrating on my food. “It’s the weekend. The workers aren’t here, and I wanted to get some yard work in. Making it presentable, you know?”

The yards were actually in great shape. Jax had been taking care of everything while my father was away and I was at school. I’d really just wanted to be home, and I knew, no matter how I tried to hide it, my father could read me well.

“Tate, I know this is hard,” he said softly. “Selling the house, I mean. I know you’re going to miss it there.”

I swallowed the lump of food in my throat, making sure I looked indifferent. “It’ll be a hard good-bye, but nothing can stay the same forever, right?” I was trying to stay positive. There was nothing that could be done, and I couldn’t expect my father to keep paying expenses on a large house we no longer needed.

“Honey, look at me, please.”

I stopped cutting food with my fork and looked up.

He stared at me for a moment, but then frowned and looked away. Brushing his nose with his hand, he let out a sigh.

My heart sank, and I wondered what the hell he was trying to say.

“Is everything okay?” I shot out. “Your heart—?”

“I’m fine.” He nodded quickly. “I just . . .”

I narrowed my eyes. “Is it the house? Has it been sold?”

His gaze locked on mine, and he hesitated before replying. “No.” He shook his head. “Nothing’s wrong necessarily.”

“Dad, just spit it out.”

He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled a hard breath. “Well, I’m seeing someone, actually,” he said. “Someone I’ve grown very close to.”

I set my fork down, my back straightening. Seeing someone? I remembered him talking about going on a date here and there a while after my mom died, but he never introduced me to anyone. Was it serious?

My dad watched me, waiting for me to say something, probably.

I finally blinked, clearing my throat. “Dad, that’s great,” I told him with an honest smile. “I’m happy for you. Is she Italian?”

“No.” He fidgeted, looking very uncomfortable. “No, she lives back home, actually.”

“Here?”

His cheeks puffed out as he ran his hand though his hair once more. “This is very awkward.” He laughed nervously. “Honey, about a year ago, I started seeing one of . . .” He trailed off, looking like he desperately needed different words to tell me what he needed to tell me. “I started seeing one of your old teachers. Elizabeth Penley,” he rushed out.

“Miss Penley?”

Miss Penley and my dad?

“It was sporadic,” he explained, sounding more like he was apologizing. “With my schedule and her job and your schedule, not to mention that when you did make it home here and there, I wanted our time together to be just us.” He took a deep breath and continued, “It just seemed like there was never a good time to tell you.”

I guess I understood.

He probably could’ve mentioned it at some point, though.
Jesus.

“I didn’t know if it would last, and I didn’t want to mention it until I was sure. It’s only gotten really serious in the past couple of months,” he explained further, as if reading my mind.

Nodding, I tried to absorb the idea of my dad telling me about someone new in his life. He’d never made this big a deal out of anyone.

But the truth was, I had been worried about him. I always worried about him. Especially with me no longer home during his time at home, I couldn’t shake the guilt that he was eating alone, watching TV alone, going to sleep alone . . .

Although my mom would always be loved and important, I didn’t want my dad by himself forever.

“Well.” I sighed. “It’s about time. And I love Miss Penley. She’s amazing.” But then I narrowed my eyes on him, questioning. “But why, if you couldn’t find the time to tell me at Christmas or spring break or over video chat before, are you telling me now?”

He offered a timid smile. “Because I’m going to ask her to marry me.”

***

“Tate!”

I jerked my head to the left, seeing Madoc heading my way.

“Great,” I whispered, focusing back out on the track.

After the call with my dad, I came out—as so many others did during the day—to take a few practice runs around the track and enjoy the calm I found here without the crowd.

I was struggling, and I didn’t know why. I liked Penley, and I wanted my dad to have someone. His proposing was a good thing, and I should’ve been happy for him.

So why did I feel like it was all suddenly too much?

The house, Stanford, his relationship . . . I felt as if I were at sail without a rudder or an anchor.

So I came out to drive. To clear my head.

To be alone, which Madoc hated.

“Let’s go.” The bite in his voice was sharp, and I knew he wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Now.”

I looked at him again, confusion, aggravation, and frustration probably all evident on my face. “Where?”

He jerked his head behind him. “My house. We threw a party together. Fallon said she texted you an hour ago.”

“No.” I shook my head, knowing exactly whom I’d see there. “No party.”

He halted, pushing his suit jacket open and planting his hands on his hips.

“What are you wearing?” I asked, taking in the black suit pants and jacket and the light blue shirt with the royal blue tie. His clothes and hair were sleek and stylish, and I could never get over how he wound up with someone as alternative as Fallon.

He straightened, suddenly looking affronted. Running a hand down his front, he tipped his chin down at me. “Hot or not?” he asked, turning playful as he referred to his clothes. “I had to go in for my internship for a few hours this morning.”

I turned my eyes back out to the track, deciding not to encourage him.

“Let’s go.” His strong voice nagged again, getting back on topic.

I heaved out a sigh and hopped off the hood. “Knock it off. I don’t need you interfering.”

I went to open my door, but Madoc flattened his palm against the window, stopping me.

“You’re going to run into him a lot in your life,” he pressed. “Reunions, friends’ weddings, and what about when Fallon and I have kids? Or Jax and Juliet?”

My heart pumped wildly as I realized Madoc was right. I’d be running into Jared a lot over the years.

Shit.

Madoc grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to face him. “Get this through your head, okay?” He spoke to me like my father. “You are as important to us as he is. You’re not pulling away again. We’re not letting you go.”

Like a petulant child, I shot my eyes up at him. I hated his persistence.

Although I kind of liked it, too.

He never let me go. Juliet and Fallon were going to be with these guys forever and have children with them. And they’d no doubt settle here.

And they were all my friends as much as Jared’s.

I dug my keys out of my pocket. “Fine, but I’ll drive my own car.”

***

“Hey,” Fallon greeted me, pulling me in for a kiss on the cheek. Unusually chipper, so I guessed she was probably tipsy, although she seemed otherwise alert.

She wore one of her old gray T-shirts—cut, ripped, and tied—turned into a sexy, nearly backless tank top. Her cutoff jean shorts were already making Madoc drool as he came up behind her, groping her ass and burying his face in her neck.

“Get a drink,” she ordered, smiling as Madoc wrapped a possessive arm around her waist. And then she pinned me with her laser green stare. “And relax, okay?”

I spotted Ben outside by the pool, so I left my friends to it and trailed out to meet him.

Madoc and Fallon liked having people around, and Madoc especially loved his parties. It wasn’t because he wanted to drink or act out. It was because he loved community. He loved his friends, and he liked good times and good conversation. I had absolutely no doubt that Madoc would end up mayor of Shelburne Falls one day, because that’s how much he loved his family. And this town was his family.

And the idea of Fallon in a blue—or red—tailored dress with an American flag pinned to her was pretty funny, bless her heart.

I stepped through the sliding glass doors, hearing “She’s Crafty” by the Beastie Boys fill the late afternoon air, and it made me smile finally. It wasn’t as crowded as many of Madoc’s parties, but there were a good thirty people out here. Most of them dressed in swim shorts and bikinis, while I still wore my jeans and shirt from the Loop.

Walking up to Ben, I put my hand on his bare back, but before he even had a chance to turn around, I felt that familiar awareness that always made the hair on my arms stand up when Jared was around.

Ben turned and flashed me a wide smile, but as he leaned in to kiss my cheek, I glanced over his shoulder, unable to not look.

But Jared wasn’t here. I flitted my eyes around, scanning the party, but I didn’t see him anywhere.

It was some weird sixth sense I had, and although it couldn’t be explained, I always knew when he was close. Could’ve been the way my neck heated up or my skin vibrated under the surface, or maybe it was just because I expected him to be there, but as soon as I felt him, that’s all I was aware of.

Couples caroused and swimmers splashed around, but as I continued to look around, I didn’t find him.

He had to be here, though. His assistant, Pasha, was pouring a beer from the keg. I had spotted her purple hair.

“Are you okay?” Ben pulled back, one hand holding my waist and the other holding a plate of food.

“Yeah,” I rasped, reeling myself back in. “I’m good. I just . . .” I sucked in a slow breath, trying to shake off my nerves as I pointed my thumb behind me. “I’m just going to run down to the storage and get Madoc some more bottles that he asked for, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Giving Ben a quick peck on the cheek, I turned around and speed walked for the house before he saw the lie in my eyes.

Of course, Madoc hadn’t asked for more liquor from his dad’s storage, but I needed a minute away. Veering around the few people in the kitchen and the island of food, I swung the basement door open and jogged down the stairs.

The basement was empty, as early in the party everyone usually socialized together before the women allowed their boyfriends—and husbands—to disappear down to Madoc’s game room. The pool table, the skate ramp, and the leather couches all sat unused as I steered myself down the hallway and into the finished bathroom across from the storage room.

“God, baby,” a man’s rough whisper caught my ears just as I was escaping into the bathroom. “I can’t keep my hands off you. Why do you do this to me, huh?”