Make Me Forget (12 page)

“Wait.”

“No. Let me go, Travis.”

His grip loosens, but he doesn’t let go. My back is to his chest, and I feel the heat from his body inches from mine. How desperately I want to fall back into him.

“That’s not what it looked like,” he says desperately.

“You don’t need to explain anything to me. We’re not anything.”

His grip tightens, and I wince.

“That’s not what I meant. Let me go, you’re hurting me.”

“Shit. Fuck.” He lets me go but spins me around so I’m facing him. His blue eyes are bloodshot and liquor is evident on his breath.

“You’re drinking,” I accuse.

“We’re not anything, huh?” He ignores my statement.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I meant that you don’t owe me an explanation. We’re not like, together or anything.”

Long seconds pass before he nods, and his eyes become blank. “Right.”

I stand tall, hoping against all hope I can remain strong. I did this. I shut him out. I said things I can’t take back. This is what I deserve. His eyes never leave mine, and I pray he can understand how sorry I am without words
.

“Everything okay here?” Pierce’s voice pulls me from my telepathic apology, and I nod.

“Yeah, man. Everything’s fine.” He turns to look at Pierce, then back at me, and my stomach drops when I notice the look of pity he shoots my way. “I’m done here.”

I lean into the brick wall, and it holds my weight as I watch him walk away. Pierce puts a hand on my shoulder. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself. When I’ve gained enough composure, I walk to my car. “I’m tired; it’s been a long night.” I’m almost to my car when he calls out to me.

“He loves you, Char.”

“Yeah, I know. But sometimes love really isn’t enough.”

14

Travis

Britney leeched on to me at the last bar I was at and won’t let go. This was a mistake. I’m so fixated on Char, I don’t even notice this nasty chick’s tongue by my mouth until it’s too late.

I need to explain¸ and Char brushes me off with her excuse of us not being anything. Fine, she’s right; we’re not officially anything. I guess I’ll need to change that. I’ve given her three and a half weeks. A month was my limit, but I don’t know if I can wait. Britney’s waiting for me when I come back inside and grabs my arm. 

“Get off.”

“Awww, I’m not done with you.” Her voice is like nails on a chalkboard.

“I am. Don’t fucking touch me again.” I shrug her off and head to the bathroom. As soon as I’m in there, I lean over the counter and take a few deep breaths before splashing water on my face. Char didn’t even fucking try. She acted like I was nobody to her, that it didn’t matter if I was with someone else. I may be a selfish bastard, but I’m not going to make her be with me unless she wants to.

I open the bathroom door, and before it even closes, a small hand whips by and slaps me across the face.

“You’re such an idiot.”

“Christ, Meara. For such a little thing, you sure pack the heat.” I rub the side of my face and look down at the little five-foot-four rocker chick. I deserve more than a slap from her, though. I should have never led Britney on and brought her to The Pub; it was a dick move.

“Remember who my brothers are?” It’s a dumb question. Declan and Pierce taught both her and Charlotte how to defend themselves. “What the hell was that, anyway?” She motions to the bar where Britney already has her tongue down some other guy’s throat. Nasty.

“A mistake. I couldn’t fucking take waiting anymore, so I went to Smashed and did a couple shots.” That, too, was a mistake. I need to stay away from hard liquor.

She opens her mouth to argue, but I put my hand up. “I know. I fucked up. Nothing happened. But I didn’t think Char would be here. Pierce said he was bouncing tonight, so I figured he’d run interference with Britney and get her away from me, but he wasn’t at the door.”

“He’s helping Matt upstairs.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway.” I shake my head and tell her the rest. “She said I don’t owe her an explanation, that we’re not anything.”

“She came to your house before the bar tonight, Travis.” Her voice softens, and I know what she’s about to say is huge. “Said she finally feels like living. Wants to tell you everything.”

My eyes widen, and I swallow the bile rising in my throat. Without a word, I push past her and run to Charlotte’s place. It’s only about a mile, and I could use the walk to sober up a little more.

I sneak in her building when a young, drunk couple stumbles in before me. I run the four flights to get to her condo and stop with my fist mid-air. Questioning if this is the right thing to do, I don’t notice when she frantically whips her door open. She doesn’t see me either because her body slams into mine, knocking us both down. I wrap my arms around and pull her to my chest, hoping to take the brunt of the fall. When I land on my back, air pushes involuntarily out of my lungs.

Her wide eyes mimic mine, and I sit up with my arms still around her. She looks at me for a second before laughing. I chuckle along with her, and snake my arms around to grab her face. My hands feel rough against her soft skin, and her laughter fades away when I bring my forehead to rest on hers. Her eyes hold my stare as her hands grab my wrists. I’m glad I sobered up quick, because I wouldn’t want to forget any of this.

“Let’s play twenty questions?”

Her gasp is audible, eyes questioning.

“Here, in the hallway?”

“Is that your first question?”

“Is that yours?” she replies just as fast.

I chuckle and bring my lips to hers, barely kissing, but unable to resist.

“How about we go inside?”

She’s on the couch, and I’m on her coffee table, not one word passed between us since we sat down. She’s looking around her apartment, eyes focusing on anything but me.

“Why are you nervous?”

Her eyes snap to me. “Is that your first question?”

“Yeah. It is.”

“I don’t know. I guess… Okay, so, here’s the thing. I have a lot I want to tell you, but I’m really afraid of how you’re going to respond.” She puffs out a huge breath, and I pat her leg.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Are you patting me like a dog?” she asks with a smile on her face.

“I guess I am, sorry. I want honesty, sweetheart. I can handle it as long as you don’t lie to me.” Giving her leg a squeeze, I sit back and ask another question. I want to be able to study her face so I can see how she reacts. “Did he hurt you?”

Her eyes widen before she blinks rapidly, knees bouncing. Now chewing on her nail, she nods her head in time with the quick rhythm of her knees. I set my hands on her legs to still them, and she moves me away so she can stand. I don’t want to push her too fast, so I watch as she paces. Waiting, pissed off because I already know the answer.

“When Dad passed away, he took a part of my mom with him. Then she was diagnosed with breast cancer... but she was already dying. Not only did I have to deal with a depressed mom, but now she was sick.” She gets a pained expression on her face, like she’s reliving it all over again.

“I told you before that I had to do everything. Well, that included all the hospital bills, too. Let’s just say my dad’s life insurance went fast. It got to the point where I couldn’t take it anymore.” Her small hands are curled in fists, and when I stand and rest my hand on her shoulder, she leans into it as if it brings her strength.

“I was at the desk in the Oncology unit arguing with a nurse about something. I don't even remember what. That’s when I met him.” I feel her hands start to shake, and her body tenses up.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay. That’s enough for tonight. You don’t have to tell me everything right away.” I know enough. That fucker hurt her.

My blood boils, but I rein in my anger when she turns, wraps her arms around my waist, and buries her face in my chest. God, I missed this.

“Did you think about me?” Her question so soft I barely hear it.

I run my fingers through her hair and answer, “Yeah. I did. All the time. I wondered what you were doing, if you were okay. But mostly, I wondered if you missed me, too. If you thought about me.”

“I did. You have no idea.”

The thousands of pounds sitting on my shoulders are gone, knowing she cared about me, too.

She pulls back from me and squares her shoulders. “Did you, umm… Were there other–”

“Don’t finish. I know what you’re asking.” As hard as it is to tell her this, I have to be honest. “Yes, there were others. Not tons, but I’m not going to lie and say that I didn’t. It meant nothing.” I laugh and shake my head. “Man, that sounds so cliché. I swear to you, it’s the truth, though. And since the moment I saw you again, there hasn’t been anybody.”

“What about tonight? That slut.”

I raise my eyebrows, surprised at her tone. “Jealous?”

“Honesty, right?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“I wanted to cut a bitch.”

Laughter erupts from me, and I have to wipe the tears forming. “Holy shit, that was hilarious.”

“I’m glad my anger amuses you.” She tips her head to the side and smiles, letting me know she’s joking.

“She was nothing, just followed me from the other bar.”

“Didn’t look like nothing.”

I rub the back of my neck nervously. “I was too busy looking at you to notice what she was doing. You left before you could see me push her off to go after you. I swear, nothing happened.”

“Okay, good.” She seems to be telling this to herself for reassurance.

“Is this awkward conversation over now?”

“Yeah, it is.” She rests her head back on my chest, and my arms tighten around her waist, holding her, wishing we could stay like this forever.

Thank God she’s done with that conversation, because how do I explain to the girl I love, that I’ve fucked other women. Seriously, though, none of them meant anything. And nobody felt anywhere near as good as Charlotte. Thinking about her wrapped around me again is making me hard. So much for staying like this forever.

“I’m starving. Did you eat?” I ask.

“Not really.”

“Pizza okay?”

“Sure.” She pushes off me, and I grab my phone out of my pocket to order while she pulls up her account on the TV and scrolls through. We laugh at the comedy choices and decide to go with one. Some laughter is a welcome reprieve from all the tension. When the pizza comes, I get up and pay for it, grab some napkins and bottles of water out of her fridge, and set everything on the coffee table.

When she flings open the pizza box, her laughter fills the room, and I smile at her happiness. I miss this girl, the one who would crack up over something as dumb as a pizza with a different topping on each slice.

“I can’t believe you remembered that.”

Shrugging my shoulders, I try to blow it off, but she’s right. It’s kind of crazy. I remember everything she’s told me. Her likes and dislikes. Fears and dreams. On one of our dates that summer, we went out for pizza, and she made an offhand comment about how she would love to have a pizza with a different topping on each slice.

“Wow, that’s just…” She doesn’t finish her sentence, instead leans over and gently presses her lips to mine.

I let her take the lead and fight back a groan when her tongue traces my lips. She runs a hand down my chest, and those lips make a trail down my neck. When she licks my ear lobe, her fingertip runs on the outside of my jeans, tracing the head that’s poking out of the top, begging for attention. It’s hell keeping my hands to myself, but I continue squeezing the couch cushions while her tongue makes a trail up my neck and back to my mouth. This time when her lips touch mine, it’s not soft, but needy.

She straddles my lap and nips at my bottom lip. My resistance breaks, and my hands grab her hips, pressing her harder onto me. I can’t remember the last time my dick’s been this hard
.
I feel her legs spasm and swallow her moan, fucking her mouth with my tongue, wishing it were my dick instead.

Her entire body freezes up, and she pushes off me, tripping on the table as she tries to get away.

“Char, stop.” My voice is stern. I’m sick of her running away.

“Oh, God. I’m sorry. I don’t know what… I just. Now you.” She points at my still hard dick, with a worried expression on her face. I wish she could let go and trust me again. “I’m not ready for that. And you’re still…” Her confidence in me is really starting to piss me off. I walk over and grab her shoulders giving her a little shake, trying to get her back to me, with me.

“I’m a big boy, I’ll be fine after a cold shower.” I smirk at her, and I see the tension fade away.

“That’s what you said last time. Like four years ago.”

“I know. Look at me, sweetheart.” I pause, waiting. “I meant it then, and I mean it now. Sure, I’d love nothing more than to be buried deep inside you right now, but I know you’re not ready for that.”

Shrugging, I sit back down on the couch. I’m so uncomfortable right now, and nothing is helping this hard on go away. We eat pizza and barely watch the movie. The silence is killing me.

“Come with me to my parent’s house Sunday.” That’ll do it. Mission get rid of your hard on accomplished.

“What?”

“Yeah. It’s Brandon’s last family dinner for who knows how long. He starts his new job next week, so I’m sure he’ll be too busy for the first few months.”

“Do they… know about me?”

“No. Well, my parents don’t. Brandon knows there’s a girl. I never told him about you.”

Her face falls, and I immediately explain. “Not because I’m ashamed of you or anything. It’s just... after Tammy, they thought I was going to lose it. Which I did, I guess. If I told them about you, they’d be all over me, and honestly, I wasn’t sure what was going to happen with us, if anything. So, I guess I kept you my secret.”

“I don’t know. That’s a lot for me, to meet your family.”

“I understand that, sweetheart. And I know you still have more to tell me, but you have to start living again. Come with me, please.” I’m begging, and I don’t fucking care. I want her to take this step with me.

“Okay. But can we not give them the details of how we met. Say we knew each other through Pierce?”

“Sure.” Plus, if I told my parents, they’d be all over me for information. Once they found about her only being seventeen when we met, they’d kick my ass. “I want to give you a heads up that my dad’s in a wheelchair.”

Her hands fly to her mouth to cover her gasp. “Oh no, what happened?”

“He is, rather, he was a cop. He got shot in the shoulder and the impact threw him down the stairs. He damaged some of the nerves in his spine.”

“That’s terrible.”

“It happened when I was fourteen. It’s not a big deal anymore, it’s part of who he is. I don't want you to be uncomfortable.”