If You Still Want Me (7 page)

That question confuses me at the same time it's
settin' off alarm bells in my head. They go unheeded, because all I
can think about right now is kissin' my best friend. Curling my
fingers into the cotton, I give his shirt a suggestive tug. "A
little, a lot - I'm down for givin' whatever you want a try."

"Stop, Saul." His free hand clamps into a fist
then relaxes. "Please."

I'm thinkin' he wants the
whole brat experience, so I keep on pushin'. "Make me,
amigo
."

"Saul..."

The word comes out on a groan
that has my whole body flippin' the fuck out. God damn, I seriously
want my best friend ta' fuck me senseless.
"
Austin
," I groan right back,
duckin' my head a bit so I can swipe my tongue across his
cheek.

"Fuck!" He's cursin' in Spanish as he drops his
beer, grips my chest harness with both hands and lifts me up,
slamming me back against the pole.

Holy mother of...
That
right there is what I've been
wanting. It's something Vickie could never do. She commands her
whip and brings me to ecstasy like no other, but Austin's
man-handling has my dick so fuckin' hard I think it's about to
break the leather holding it back.

My hands brace on his shoulders as one leg
instinctively rides his hip. There's a look in his eyes I aint
never seen before, swirling the blue-gray into a tempest that
threatens to blow my world apart. I think I want that.

I think I
need
that.

"Fuck, yeah, Aus-" my words end as his lips
crash to mine, his tongue forcefully seeking entrance. I
accommodate and Austin proceeds to give my mouth a proper fucking,
leavin' me gasping for breath and losin' my hold on reality.

All this time, we could'a had this. All this
time, he was right there; laughin, and smiling, and teasin' my
heart. All this time, wasted.

My leg tightens its hold, grinding our groins
together. The denim seam covering his zipper rubs along the ribbed,
studded leather circling my dick. It has me moanin' an' whimperin'
while I'm still tryin' ta catch my breath from the way his tongue
is dancin' in my mouth.

I swear, I'd cum right in my shorts if it
weren't for the ring wrapped around the base 'a my cock. His thumb
finds a cold-hardened nipple, shootin' me into orbit, and I break
away so I can cry out. As I come back down ta' Earth, my head
clears enough to really see him.

He's frozen stiff, his arms flexing in her hold
on my chest-harness, and his jaw is tickin' in a way that makes me
a right bit nervous. I see demons in his eyes, tryin' to take him
away from me. Diggin' my fingers into his shoulders, I try to bring
in him back from wherever his mind has gone.

"Austin? Don't stop, man. You an' me - this is
fuckin' incredible."

"It could be," he growls out, cascading a line
'a goosebumps up my spine. "But it aint what I want."

"I don't understand," my voice whines, begging
for this not to end. "You gotta explain it to me, man! You know how
God damn stupid I am!"

"I don't want to have sex with you, Saul."

Really? Well, could'a fooled me with the way
yer dick is a hard bulge against mine.
I
think those words, but my lips refuse to move. He's got me locked
in place with an expression I can't ignore.

He's hurt, deep down inside. He's in pain, and I
can't figure out why. I'm his best friend, an' I don't know how ta'
help him.

"I don't want to have sex with
you," he repeats, hushed and full 'a the same anguish I can see on
his face. "I want to
make love
to
you."

And there it is - the moment his eyes warned of.
The tempest done come and blew my sorry ass away, leavin' me
fightin' for the right words ta' say. I don't rightly know how I
should respond, so I say the only thing that comes ta mind, hopping
it's the right answer to keep this thing between us movin'
forward.

"You know I love you, Austin," I whisper it,
like it's some secret we're afraid to speak out loud - that me
lovin' him is somehow wrong or not deservin' to be shouted from the
tallest damn mountain I can find. Fuck that shit. It is.

"I
love
you, man," I say it louder this time. "You know
that, right? Yer my best friend!"

For a moment, I think I've said the right thing,
but then the pain returns to his eyes. It knifes me in the chest,
needling my heart as sharply as I think it's stabbin' his. Why
can't I understand?

"I know, Saul," he sighs, releasing his hold on
the harness and taking a step back. "I know you love me, but it's
like the way I love Victoria. I care about her, deeply, but I don't
love her like I love you. It's not the same."

"I..." I have no idea what ta' say.

"I'm
in love
with you, Saul, like the way you love Victoria.
You're
everything
to me, but I
know..."

He pauses to wipe his eyes, and it shreds me
into a gazillion tiny pieces. I get it. I finally fuckin' get
it.

"I know," he continues before I can get my voice
to cooperate. "You and Victoria got something so damn special;
something people search their whole lives for, and something I got
no right getting in between. I wish you could look at me that way,
but I know you can't. It aint your fault. All you can see is her,
and I..."

His chest heaves, his hand fisting the cotton
over his heart. "I'm so damn sorry for it. I'm tired of standing
around, wishing for something that aint never gonna happen. I love
you both, so damn much, but I hate you, too."

He takes one step back. "I can't live like this
no more."

Another step away from me.
"
That's
why I'm leavin',
Saul."

Why can't I say anything? Why
can't I move? Don't leave me, Austin!
Please
,
don't
leave
.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers before walkin' outta
the barn.

It feels more like he just walked right outta my
life.

The cute, shotgun-style parish house's inviting
porch has two new wicker rocking chairs - a Christmas gift from the
congregation, Joseph explains as we pull into the vacant lot next
door. Both lots on either side were abandoned, which is good,
because the parking is needed. My daddy's house has become a
centralized meeting point for many in the Upper Ninth, and the city
leaders don't give him grief over making use of the cleaned-up
empty fields where condemned houses once stood.

He doesn't pretend to own the
lots, or the lots around the parish that he's been working to turn
into community gardens. The lots are God's Lots, he calls them -
borrowed until the land owners return or until God asks for them
back with another flood. It's not easy, converting salt-watered
land into vegetables, but the idea is catching on. What else could
they do but feed themselves when the grocery stores
left?

Trying to explain how much I respect Elijah, my
step-father, is like trying to explain how I feel about Saul and
Austin. There just don't seem to be the right words in existence to
adequately express what's in my heart. It's something so much
bigger and greater than love. It's something that makes me smile,
every time I think about it.

"Is that my princess come home?" Elijah calls
from the porch, his back slightly stooped and his old face looking
more wrinkled than I remember under a scalp of shockingly white
curls.

"Well, it's about time!" Queen Tabitha scoffs as
she looks over Daddy's shoulder. "Dinner was ready twenty minutes
ago. If you two stopped at Dairy Queen and ruined your appetites,
Lord help me! Daddy, get back inside 'fore you catch cold. Jerry!"
she calls back inside. "Take the rolls out the oven!"

Joseph and I share a snicker as I take my
suitcase from the trunk. Turning back to the porch, I smile up at
Elijah. "Hey, Daddy. I'm sorry for missing Christmas, and-"

"Girl," he narrows his good eye at me. "You
gonna make an old man wait out on this cold porch for his hug all
night?"

"No, sir," my grin sweetens as I hand Joey my
suitcase so I can give my daddy the proper hug he deserves. "Missed
you."

His arms wrap around me as tight as he can.
"Missed you, too, princess. Don't worry none about Christmas.
Joseph done told me your Saul got himself hurt. I just wish... I
don't want to judge, but-"

"We should talk about it," I agree. "There are
some things I need to tell you."

A touch of worry enters his dark brown eyes, but
he nods before kissing my cheek. "Of course, princess. Anytime you
want to talk, you know my ears is always open."

"Thanks, Daddy."

"Y'all still out here yappin'?" Tabitha opens
the screen door again with a stern look. "Get up in here 'fore all
the heat leaves the house."

"Yes, ma'am," the three of us reply together
before falling into quiet laughter.

She rolls her eyes in a huff, leaving the
doorway with another holler directed inside. "Jerry! You take out
them rolls yet?"

"You weren't kidding about those hormones," I
mutter.

"Told you," Joeseph holds the door open for
Daddy, and I follow in after. "Also, whatever you do, don't say
nothin' about the cherry pie."

"What cherry pie?"

"Exactly," Daddy replies with a chuckle and a
wink at Joseph.

I raise my brow at the two of them but get
nothing except innocent-looking grins. The similarities between
them are impossible to miss. That cherry pie comment is going to
bug me until I figure out what it's all about, and they both know
it. A pair of jokers, they are.

"Joseph, take your sister's bag to her room,"
Daddy kindly orders as he takes my elbow and starts guiding me
towards the dining room.

Uh-oh.

"Good luck," Joseph whispers as he passes behind
me.

I think I'm going to need all the luck I can get
as I step into the dining room to find all eyes on me, including a
pair I don't recognize. That must be Samson. He's a handsome, older
man, but their aint no way on God's green Earth that man is a day
under fifty. What is my daddy thinking?

I think my dishonesty has made him
desperate.

"Hey there, girl!" Ruth jumps up from her seat,
not giving any time for an awkward silence to settle into the room
as Samson stares at me just a little too hard for my liking.

Ruth and I hug, followed by a quick hug, chaste
from her husband, Michael, who has their baby boy in one arm. Jerry
hugs me too, with more feeling, but he's always been big in the
heart that way. He sets down a basket of rolls onto the table
before checking on he and Tabi's baby girl in her highchair. As
everyone sits, Tabi waddles in from the kitchen.

I finally get a good look at her and can't help
but bubble over. I'm not one for kids, honestly. Seeing her rounded
belly, though, I can appreciate that it's going to be another
Harris added to our growing family. She and I are the last to sit,
and it's become like a tradition.

She's the mother hen, but I'm the stubborn one
who always pushes that last inch. After putting the butter dish on
the table, she looks at me with a silent reprimand for missing
Christmas then opens her arms. Tabitha can be hard to swallow
sometimes, but we've helped each other through tough times. I don't
think it's something either one of us will forget.

"You look great, Tabi," I say through the
hug.

"Oh, hush. I look like I done swallowed one of
the Mardi Gras floats. Shoot, this baby takes much longer, and
Jerry can put some flowers in my hair and lease me out to the
parade."

"You find out what it is yet?" I ask as we sit
next to each other. It puts me directly across from Samson, but
maybe I can avoid talking to him with the way Tabi likes being the
center of attention.

"Is a girl!" Jerry blurts out
first with an excited grin. "Gonna have'ta get me
two
shotguns now to keep them boys offa my
porch!"

"Jerry," Tabitha rolls her eyes.

"What you need is to get them girls a brother,"
Michael comments, looking across a bowl of peas.

"That'll be next," Jerry lifts his chin proudly.
"I aint givin' up till my Tabi and I gets us a boy."

"Sounds like hard work," Joseph snorts into his
water glass. "You poor, poor man."

"Joseph Francis Harris!" Tabitha gasps, pulling
out the big guns. All the men around the table freeze and lower
their eyes. I think Joey even shudders at the sound of his middle
name.

"Sorry," he mutters, cheeks darkened as the men
all attempt to hold in their snickering.

"A baby is always a blessing from God," Daddy
reminds us. "Let us pray on it."

We join hands and Daddy says a well-spoken
grace. I'm no church lady, but I respect his prayer. I don't agree
with all of it, but I don't think you have to. I don't think that
was ever the real point, and Daddy never tried to force me to see
it any other way, even when I stopped going to church on
Sundays.

'Princess, as long as you have a good heart and
try to lead a good life - I think God will be happy, and I'll be
happy, too.'

Sometimes I miss it - the church and its
community. I miss family dinners, too, with Tabi on my left, Joey
on my right and Ruth across the way sneaking faces in attempts to
make me laugh. I miss having Elijah, the man who lets me call him
daddy and earns it every time I say it, at the head of my table and
close enough to hug.

What I don't miss are these damn hook-ups Daddy
keeps setting up. Opening my eyes from prayer, I find Samson's
unwavering stare back on me. I glance over at Daddy to see that
mischievous glint in his eyes that he passed down to Joey.