Blissful volume 2 (New Adult Romance) (2 page)

I
roll my eyes, but the smirk appearing on his face makes me smile. Gazing ahead, the fire crackling catches my eye. The images that appear inside make me squint. Even in a chimney I can see Ronnie having sex with other girls. I feel like such an idiot for believing in him all this time. It’s making me sick.

Tears well up in my eyes. Not because of what I’ve lost, but because I’m ashamed of myself. Ashamed of not realizing sooner that he was a dick and that I needed to get out of that relationship.

“What are you thinking about?” Jack asks me.

I don’t want to turn my head to look at him. I don’t want him to see the hurt in my eyes.

He leans forward to catch my gaze, but I turn my head sideways to avoid meeting his eyes. The more he tries to get my attention, the stupider I feel. I’m crying over stupid things here, and I don’t want Jack to know. Tears flow, and I can’t stop them anymore. My cheeks are already getting wet.

“Hey,” he says, and he stands up.
“Don’t be sad.”

Immediately, I
wipe away the moist on my face so that he won’t see it, but I think it’s already too late. He’s standing right in front of me and holds out his hand. I just stare at him, not knowing what he wants. It feels a bit uncomfortable after what happened this evening.

He holds out another hand, sticking out both hands toward me. When I don’t take them, he reaches for my hands and takes them anyway.

Flushing, I draw back into the couch, but he keeps his steady gaze on me. “Don’t be afraid. Hey, just because I’ve touched you a bit … inappropriately … after dinner, doesn’t mean that I’m going to do anything weird now.”

Butterflies in my stomach make me feel
as though I’m floating. There it is. His recognition of what he did. That he groped me, and that I liked it.

“Come,” Jack says, beckoning me.

He pulls me up from the couch. Keeping his gaze on me, he guides me to the middle of the room until we reach the center of the carpet. He raises our hands and puts mine on his shoulders. His eyes never leave mine as he gently places his hands on my waist and starts to move his feet. We’re shuffling around in the room, moving slow and soft on the sweet music. The radio is low, and the sound is soothing. Jack’s brown eyes lull me into a trance.

Every time he smiles he makes me smile, too. I can’t help it. His smile is just that infectious, however small it is
.

I can see the pain in his eyes, though. I know I’m not the only one with problems. He’s hiding his while mine are out in the open. However different they are, we’re both still trying to banish the loneliness. We
’re both consoling each other, our presences momentarily soothing the pain of our solitude.

His hands start to shift from my waist to my back
, and I inch closer to him. I entwine my hands around his neck, my fingers curling around his long dark hair. Even in this moment I feel the tears sting my eyes, but not because I’m sad. They’re here because of his sweet gesture and because it touches my heart.

I sniff
and lean in for a kiss. I press my lips on top of his. At first he’s hesitant, not moving an inch, but then he accepts me. Gently, he kisses me back, but not in a way that screams excitement. Not like before. This is sweet and gentle, exploring each other. It’s just a kiss, nothing more. All we need is love and someone to hold us. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s not a promise for more. Just a kiss to make us both feel like we’re worth it.

When my lips leave his again his eyes are loving, but he looks befuddled
, too. I smile and let my head rest against his chest. Our bodies are pressed against each other, and I can hear his heartbeat rising. We dance around in the room until so many songs have passed that I no longer count them. Time creeps by, but I don’t care. This is heaven, and I’ll gladly stay here for an eternity.

Jack

I open my eyes slowly. Light coming in from the window is blinding me.
It’s warm here, and I feel like I’m covered in a blanket, even though I know there is none. I wonder where I am. My back is killing me. It feels as though I’ve spent the night on a stretcher made of stone. I groan and try to move, but there’s something on top of me stopping me from getting up.

Squinting, I look around and notic
e Amy lying right on top of me.

My hand is curled around her back. Her arms are wrapped around my waist,
and her head is leaning against my chest. One of her legs is clenching onto my hips.

Fuck.

Looking around, I can see we’ve fallen asleep on the floor, sitting up against the couch. How the fuck did we end up here? Shit, I really drink too much.

I try to slip my feet from under her, but she moans
. The sound is quite exhilarating, but then she starts to move about. Her leg slides up over my cock, making it twitch. Shit, as if my morning wood isn’t bad enough already.

Nudging her aside, I slip my hand from underneath her back and lift her legs to get them away. I crawl from underneath her and get up. Stretching, I feel like an old grandpa, my back making strange crackling noises.

For a second I watch her lie there while she clutches the couch. She looks cute and almost laughable, because of the way her mouth hangs slightly open. Muffling a laugh, I walk to the kitchen and start up the coffee. The warm feeling that was boiling in my stomach dissipates quickly and shame creeps in. I can’t believe we just fell asleep like that. She was huddled up against me, and I let her.

I watch the coffee drip down and mull about the situation.
I haven’t had another woman lie on top of me like that in a long time. Not after …

This isn’t good. I’m falling for her, but I’m afraid if I should. Afraid if it’s even love or just lust. Afraid that I’m betraying Rose.

Frowning, I shake my head and get out the kitchen. I need some air. Need to breathe.

I walk outside
and close the door behind me. The ground is muddy, and I’m walking on bare feet, but I don’t care. I need to be alone right now so that I can think.

Stepping into the sun, I hold out my hands and embrace the warmth tingling on my skin. The dawning of a new day has never been so confrontational. It’s crispy clear and yet so unfocussed. I have no idea what to do. I can’t just tell her how I feel, because I’m not even sure how the fuck I feel. I mean, she’s beautiful, sweet, and her smile melts my heart, but I can’t get it in
to my mind that it’s even a possibility to have another woman. I swore to myself I would never love again. I believed that I could never find another woman and love her like Rose, but now I’m afraid it might actually be possible. And it scares the shit out of me.

Sighing, I stare into the distance and notice all the humps and bumps in the road. Memories of Amy and the first time we met pop into my head. She stumbled here, falling into a puddle and getting completely soaked in mud. It still makes me laugh out loud thinking about it.

I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t start anything. How could I even do that to Rose?

Then again, Amy is here and
she needs me. I need her. God, I want her. But I’m so goddamn afraid of the consequences. I don’t want her to be the object of my fascination. That’s not what love is about.

But then what the hell do I do if I don’t know what I want? I want to show her that I care about her, but I don’t want her to think it’s a marriage proposal. Fuck no. I shake my head from the stupid thoughts.

Jack McCallister, what the fuck are you doing? Stop complaining, you ain’t got time for that. Get your ass to work.

Yes. Work. That’s all I know
how to do well. Plus, I can show her that I care about her feelings if I work my ass off. Make her feel at home. It’s the least I can do, especially after all that crying she did. It’s my fault after all, I was the asshole. I should make up to her.

Taking a big breath, I pick up a shovel from the garage and start walking toward the road. I have to press my feet firmly into the soggy ground to keep my balance.
I start filling up all the holes with sand and cover them up completely. It takes some time, but it’s worth it. If I can keep her from falling down again she’s happy, and that’s all I want, for now.

Although, I would
love to get more of the taste her lips bring. I’d like to get my hands on those juicy tits again, too.

Fuck!
Goddamnit, McCallister, stop that fucking nonsense.

I dig deeper and deeper, putting all my effort into making the road perfect again. I’d do anything to get my mind off that woman.

Suddenly I hear high pitched sounds coming from the house. Notes. Music. It’s so unfamiliar I barely recognize it, but after a while a switch goes on in my head. Someone is playing on the piano.

The piano?

Wiping the sweat off my forehead, I glance at the house and see the light burning in the attic. Amy.

I stick the shovel into the ground and march to the house. She’s playing the piano. It’s got to be her. I told Madeline not to touch it, so I’m sure it’s not her. Amy must’ve woken up from me nudging her aside when I came up from the floor.

What the fuck is she doing in the attic?

I burst inside the house and don’t even bother to wipe my feet. I storm upstairs and up another. There I find her behind the piano. That
darn thing I haven’t looked at in years. Amy’s behind it, as expected.

When I walk forward
, she turns her head and stops playing when she sees me.

“Oh, I didn’t know you were there,” she says. A flush appears on her cheeks.

“Only just now. What are you doing here?”

“Playing the piano, duh.”

I frown. She’s obviously not getting what I mean. I never told her she could go up here. I was hoping she wouldn’t just go ahead and invite herself to look around, but I guess that’s just her. Damn nosy types. Shit. This piano brings back memories I don’t want to think about. Her finding this thing isn’t something I was looking forward to, but now it’s too late.

“I uh … I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so intrusive,” she says, her head lowering between her shoulders.

She obviously noticed the look in my eyes now. I sigh and walk up to her.

“I just thought I’d explore the house a bit, you know, seeing as you wan
ted me to stay a little longer,” she says. “When I found this piano, I just had to play it. I’m sorry; I didn’t know I wasn’t allowed up here.”

Shit, I don’t want her to be sad. Why do I have to act like a fucking jerk all the time?

I lean in closer. “Forget about it.”

I grab her hand and bring it up to my lips to give her a peck. I hope she forgives my annoyance. I just don’t like it when people uncover things I’d rather keep hidden.
Not for their sake, but for my own.

But the music she played … it’s repeating in my head over and over again. I can’t get it out
, and it lured me into the house. I want to hear more of it.

Amy starts getting up, but I place my hand on her shoulder and say, “No, don’t. Please, play some more.”

She gazes at me with a befuddled look on her face. I point at the piano and place her hands on the keys again. She twists around in her seat, and I sit my ass down next to her. She scoots over to make some room for me until we’re both in front of it.

When she starts playing again it’s
as if the music never left this house. It’s wonderful. The notes are as a whisper, floating into my ears. I don’t know what she’s playing, because I’ve never heard it before, but it sounds good.

“That’s beautiful,” I say.

“You think.” Her eyes sparkle as she looks at me.

“You play often? You’re good.”

She nods. “I love it. I used to do this every evening when I was still in a band with my … friend.” The way she says the word ‘friend’ sounds as if she was stabbed in the back. Still, it surprises me she’s talking about this as if it’s her world. I didn’t realize this was actually her career.

“I didn’t know you
were a musician,” I say.

“Yep.
Nicole and I were driven to make it someday. You know, become famous and all that. But I guess those were just stupid dreams …”

“Hey.” I put my hand on her back
, and she instantly lights up again. “Don’t think like that. Don’t give up. It doesn’t suit you.”

She makes a lopsided smile. “
As if you’d know.”

Her comment makes me smile. “I know that if you try, you’ll get there eventually.”

Amy smiles at me and then starts playing Skinny Love. Her voice sounds almost exactly like Birdy’s, only a little lower, because she’s older. It sounds lovely and sweet, and it makes me want to hear it over and over again.

She even sings the lyrics.
How appropriate. A skinny love, or in other words, a love based on lust, because both parties don’t know how to give more. It fascinates me that she picked this song. Especially the part where she mentions the ‘who will love you’ part, because it strikes a chord with me. It feels as though she’s singing about us, for us. No, I know for sure. Her sneaky glances in between tell me.

The magical melody she plays quickly finds its way into my heart.
But it stirs my aching too.

Hearing someone play this old dusty thing is
reminding me of Rose.

Oh, sweet Rose. How I miss you. You’d cry if you
saw someone play your piano. Not because you’re sad or jealous, but because you’re happy the damn thing is being used again.

I shake my head
, and a muffled chuckle escapes my mouth. I’m laughing away my own pain. Pathetic.

Tears start to well up in my eyes. I force them away, but the notes Amy strikes set my eyes ablaze. All they want is to release the
hurt they’ve been holding onto for so long. Amy’s music is setting them free.

My cheeks are getting wet, but I don’t want her to see, so I turn my head away. I wipe my face with my sleeve and
pretend everything’s normal.

She stops playing.

Shit. Did she see? I don’t want her to see. Fuck.

She turns around and peeks under my brown hair that I
conveniently use to cover up my tears. Squinting, she raises her hand and brings it to my eyes, picking up the tears with her index-finger.

Fuck.

“Jack?” she says.

Her voice creates cracks in my carefully constructed barrier. The thick dam in my heart is breaking apart
, and I don’t want her to see. I don’t want her to witness the destruction of my heart. What comes out might be more than one person can handle, and I know for a fact that she can’t handle it. She’s hurting inside, too. I can’t put this all on her.

But it’s too late.

I’m bawling my eyes out. Tears just keep flowing and soon I’m sniffling like a sick dog. Her arms wrap around me quickly, and she pulls me closer. With my chin on her shoulder the tears stream down onto her shirt. This is it. My hell on earth. The memories I’ve been forced to leave behind here come flooding back in.

Rose playing the piano. Rose dancing in the moonlight. Rose
cuddling with Madeline on the couch. Rose feeding the chickens. Rose cooking my favorite dishes. Rose cleaning the ever dirty house, because of all the shit I leave. Rose and her body. Rose. Just Rose. I’ll never see any of that again. Not ever.

And it’s killing me.

My moans and whines sound more like the howling of a wolf. It’s coming from my toes and blackens my insides, destroying what was left of my protection. I can’t take it. I can’t.

“It’s okay. Whatever it is, you’ll make it through,” Amy whispers.

She’s here. Right. There’s someone here. For a moment I was completely oblivious to everything around me, drowning in my own terror.

“I can’t handle it,” I say.

The creaks in my voice give away that I’m terrified. Terrified of this life I still have to live, for her, my little angel Maddy, even though I barely know how to hold on. I cling to everyone around me; beg them without words to keep me alive, because without them there’s nothing holding me back from …

I forbid myself to go there.

Amy’s hand gently pats my back, and it’s soothing my pain, but only a little. My head drops from her shoulder, and I bury it in her chest. She clamps her arms firmly around me and envelops me in her love. I can feel it flow out of her and into me. I know this is wrong, so wrong, but I need it. I need to feel someone be there for me, even if only a little. Even if it is with someone I barely know, with someone I don’t trust to stay here, but I can’t do without her right now.

“I’m here,” s
he whispers, and I believe her.

She’s here.
I take back what I said earlier about her not being able to handle it. She’s here for me. I can hold onto her for as long as I need to. For as long as it takes to sow those gaps back together and mend the gash in my heart.