Marie Sexton - Coda 03 - The Letter Z (9 page)

BOOK: Marie Sexton - Coda 03 - The Letter Z
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“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” he finally asks. “Yeah.”
“You aren’t even going to tell me what happened last night?” “No.”

“Okay.” He’s quiet for ’bout half a block, but then he says, “Did you and Zach have a fight?”

“Guess so.”
“Did you break up?”
“No.”

Another couple of minutes, and then, “Please tell me you didn’t do anything stupid last night.”

Obviously I did, but not what he’s thinkin’. “I didn’t.”
“Then what—”
“Told you I don’t wanna talk ’bout it, Matt.”

“Okay.” We go about another block before he starts talkin’ again. “You want to know something?”

 

“No, but I bet you’re gonna tell me anyway.”

 

“Jared told me once that he has a compass inside of him, but instead of pointing north, it points west.”

“No wonder he gets lost so easy.”
“Zach has a compass inside of him too. You know where it points?” “Toward Thai food?”
“It points at you.”
“That supposed to mean somethin’?”

“Yeah,” he says, smackin’ me on the back of the head. It hurts, but I’m not gonna let him know that. He just grins at me. “When you pull your head out of your ass, it will.”

I’
M A
little nervous walkin’ back into our room. It’s still light outside, but

the curtains are closed and the room is pretty dark. Zach’s sittin’ on the edge of the bed starin’ at the TV, but I know him. I can tell he’s not really seein’ it.

He doesn’t acknowledge me, and I don’t say anything either. I take off my coat, and my boots. I sit on my bed and look down at the floor, like maybe somebody left some cue cards down there for me to go by. No such luck. Zach’s watchin’ me outta the corner of his eyes, ’bout the way a mouse watches a cat. He’s waitin’ to see if I’ll pounce on him or just scamper away.

We’ve had fights before, but always Zach’s the one who makes it right. He’ll come over to where I’m sittin’, and get down on his knees in front of me. He’ll put his head in my lap and tell me how much he loves me. And that’s usually the end of it. But this time, it’s pretty fuckin’ obvious he has no intention of makin’ the first move. It’s gotta be me.

I take a deep breath and go stand in front of him. He looks up at me, wary, ready for another fight.

I got no fuckin’ clue what to say. My instinct is to attack: to blame him for bringin’ us to Vegas or for makin’ that stupid dinner date with Jonathan. I could say it’s his fault for kissin’ his ex, or for not arguin’ when Jonathan called me an easy lay. I could say so many things to hurt him or to piss him off. Those are the things I know how to do.

I don’t know how to make amends.

I just want to touch him. I want to know he won’t push me away. I make myself reach out, and I put my fingers in his hair, my palm against his cheek. He tenses up. His jaw clenches, and his eyes close, like he can’t stand to have my hands on him. And it hurts more than I can say. It makes my chest so tight, I’m not sure I can even breathe.

“Zach?” I barely manage to make myself heard. I barely manage to keep my voice from cracking. I can’t stop it from shaking. I want to get down on my knees and put my head in his lap, the way he does to me. But I know if I do, I won’t be able to stop myself from burstin’ into tears and cryin’ like a little kid. “Zach, tell me what to do. ’Cause I have no idea how to make things right.”

For a second, I don’t think he’s gonna answer. He just sits there with his eyes shut tight and doesn’t move. Then he sort of sighs, and some of the tension goes out of him. My hand is still against his cheek, and he puts his hand on top of it. He turns toward it and kisses my fingers.

“That’s twice now,” he says quietly. His lips are against the palm of my hand. He’s not lookin’ at me. “Twice you’ve implied that the only thing you have to give me is sex.” The first time was months ago, at home, the day I finally broke down and called my mom. The day I told him I loved him. I knew it had bothered him then, too, but not like this time. “You’re breaking my heart, Angelo. Don’t you know how much you mean to me? Don’t you know how much I love you? Because if you don’t….” He trails off, but he finally looks up at me, and I see in his eyes he’s as upset as I am. “I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know how to make you believe.”

Right now, I don’t care if I believe. I only care that we go back to how we were. I want to wake up in the dark of night and move into his bed. I want to make love in the mornin’ like we always do. I want to know that tomorrow he’ll want me to touch him again. “I can’t stand to have you mad at me,” I whisper.

“I can’t stand to
be
mad at you.” He stands up now, and steps up close to me. But he doesn’t touch me. “Promise me you won’t ever say it again.”

I still think I’m right. I don’t know if he’s foolin’ himself or just lyin’ to me to make me feel better. But I don’t care. He doesn’t want me to say it out loud again, so I won’t. “I promise,” I say.

“Good.” And then he pulls me tight against him and kisses me. And I know it hasn’t been that long—only since yesterday—but it feels like it’s been ages since he kissed me like this.

He pulls me over to the bed, his arms ’round me. One of his hands goes under my shirt and slides up my back. I start to unbutton his pants, but he stops me. “No sex, Ang. I just want to touch you.”

I know he’s tryin’ to make a point with the “no sex” thing, but I don’t mind. We undress each other. He kisses my eyes and my cheeks. His hands never go below my waist, but they caress my stomach and my back and my arms. They’re so soft, and he’s so gentle. I guess it’s been a while since I realized just how good it feels to have him touch me. And then he pulls me down on to the bed with him. I put my head on his chest and try to swallow the lump in my throat.

His hand slides up my back, stops on the back of my neck. His voice is low and coaxing, like he’s tryin’ to keep from scarin’ me away. “Talk to me, Angelo. I can’t make it better if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

I know exactly what I want to say. I always have a hard time with the words, but this time, I make myself say them. I take a deep breath and force them up out of my chest, make them take form. “I love you so much, Zach.” It comes out pretty quiet, but I know by how still he is that he hears me. And then I say somethin’ else. Somethin’ I hadn’t planned on. “Please don’t leave me.”

There’s a moment then—just a heartbeat—while he absorbs it all. And then his arms are ’round me, squeezing me so tight I almost can’t breathe. I can’t keep the tears out of my eyes. I hate how I always seem to be cryin’ in front of him, but he doesn’t let on that he knows. He kisses my forehead and says in a gentle voice, “Angelo, I don’t understand how you can be so smart, and still be so damn stupid.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Don’t you know by now? There’s nothing and nobody in this world that could make me leave you. You’re my whole life, angel. And I like it that way.”

Some of that dread that’s been in my gut all day goes away when he says that, but the lump in my throat gets even bigger. I wait until I can keep my voice from shaking to answer. “He’s everything I’m not.”

“But
you’re
everything I want, Angelo. Not him.”

 

I’m
everything he wants? A high school dropout with nothing to offer? I try to believe him. I try to understand how he could choose me.

“Matt and Jared will be here in less than an hour,” he says gently. He knows I’ll want to get my shit together before they show up. No way I want either of them seein’ me like this. Zach nudges me. “Let’s go take a shower.” He knows me so well.

“Okay,” is all I can say.

I let him pull me up from the bed and lead me into the bathroom. He starts the shower, pushes me gently into it, and then gets in behind me. He wraps his arms ’round me. I close my eyes, lean back against him, and try to let it all go. I try to let all my anger and all my tears wash away in that steaming hot water.

I don’t know how long we stand like that, him just holding me. After a bit, his hands start to move on me. He washes my back, then slowly moves down my chest, over my stomach, between my legs. The next thing I know, he’s turning me, pushing me against the wall. I keep my eyes closed and let him lead. I realize he’s on his knees in front of me when I feel his lips on my stomach. And then his tongue moves over my slit, and I have to grab onto him to keep my knees from giving out.

He said “no sex”, and I’m wonderin’ if I should stop him. Not sure it’s really right to let him do this. Not sure it’s fair for me to take more. But then his mouth closes over me, and I stop wonderin’. I stop thinkin’ at all. For the first time since my eyes opened that mornin’, my mind shuts off, and it’s such an amazing relief. No fear, no worries, no shame. No ridiculous scenarios playing like a bad movie in my head. It’s all lost to that silent, sensual oblivion. There’s nothing but me and him and pure physical sensation.

The tile wall is cold and smooth against my back and the water is scalding hot on my chest. My hands are tangled in Zach’s thick brown hair, and his mouth is warm and sweet and giving. Always giving. Because that’s what Zach does. One of his hands slides up the inside of my thigh, then I feel his fingers, slick and soapy, pushing against my rim.

I moan a little, and it surprises him enough that he actually stops sucking. I don’t make much noise during sex. I don’t know why not. Never even thought ’bout it ’til Zach told me. But I know how much he loves it when somethin’ slips out. He says in a low, husky voice, “Oh God, Ang, please do that again.”

I don’t even have a chance to think about it. As soon as he says it, his mouth slides back down my length, and his fingers push past my rim— but only a little. It’s just the tiniest bit of penetration, and he knows it won’t be enough. He keeps sucking, keeps moving the very tip of his finger in and out, teasing me until I clench my fingers in his hair and manage to whisper, “More, Zach.”

“Anything,” he says quietly, and then his mouth is on me again, and his fingers slide slowly into me. It feels so good, I really do moan then, and so does he. His fingers massage me, and his tongue circles the head of my cock and flicks over that spot just below my slit. I can’t help but grab him tighter and pull him further down my shaft as his fingers move deeper. Then he touches that wonderfully sensitive spot inside, and that’s all it takes. I may even cry out when I come this time. I don’t know for sure. All I know are his fingers filling me and that wonderful, thoughtless release. He lets me hold his head as far down my shaft as he can go, all the way to end.

He never stops giving.

Even still shakin’ from my climax, I think ’bout that. He always gives. Do I really give him anything? Is it possible that
lettin’
him give is the same as givin’ back? I wish I knew.

I feel him stand up, and then his soft hands on each side of my face. “Ang?” I open my eyes and look into his. They’re gorgeous blue, and I can see by lookin’ in ’em that he’s worried. But I can see how much he cares ’bout me too. “Ang, please tell me we’re okay.”

We love each other so much. Why did I think that wasn’t enough? I put my arms ’round his neck and pull him down to kiss me. “Zach,” I say, “we’re absolutely perfect.”

W
E HAVE
dinner with Matt and Jared. Things start out awkward. They’re walkin’ on eggshells, glancin’ at us sideways, obviously worried we’re gonna start fightin’ any moment. But it doesn’t take them long to figure out that we’re not. If anything, we’re probably gonna embarrass ’em by tearin’ each other’s clothes off right there in the restaurant. Dinner ends up bein’ fun.

We get back to the hotel, and there, in the bar closest to the elevators, is Jonathan.

He’s obviously been waitin’ for us, and we stop short when he approaches us. I’m sure as hell not happy to see him, but I am a little bit glad to see the bruise I left on the side of his face. Still, I can’t believe he’s come, and I’m hopin’ like hell he’s not gonna do somethin’ to fuck things up between Zach and I again.

Like he’s readin’ my mind, he says, “I’m not here to cause trouble.” I’m thinkin’ he might cause it whether he means to or not, and I’m tryin’ hard to keep my temper in check. Zach steps in front of me—whether it’s to protect me or Jonathan, I don’t know. “I was hoping we could talk for a minute,” he says to Zach.

“I have nothing to say to you,” Zach says coldly, and starts to push past him.

Jonathan puts a hand on Zach’s chest to stop him, and that pisses me off even more. I want to tell him to get his fuckin’ hands off of Zach, but before I can, Zach knocks his hand away. “Don’t touch me again!”

I can tell Jonathan is sad ’bout that, but not surprised. He holds his hands up in submission. “Zach, truly. I’m sorry.” He holds his hand out to Zach. “I just wanted to say goodbye.”

Zach looks suspicious, but after a second, he shakes Jonathan’s hand. All he says is, “Goodbye, Jonathan.” And then he walks away. He never looks back.

It’s pretty anticlimactic, and Jared, Matt and I are all still standin’ there, in sort of a stunned silence. Jonathan turns to Jared first. “It really was nice to meet you. I hope I didn’t ruin your vacation too much,” he says. He holds out his hand and ’course Jared smiles and shakes it.

“You know, I have a friend in Phoenix.” Matt gives him a dirty look when he says that, but Jared ignores him. “I think I’ll tell him to look you up.”

Jonathan smiles and says, “I’m always up for a blind date.” He holds his hand out to Matt next. Matt hesitates a second, but then they shake too.

And then Jonathan turns to me. I’m wonderin’ if maybe he’s too good to shake hands with me, but when his eyes meet mine, there’s no challenge in ’em like I’ve seen every other time. He looks tired, and wary. And I’m surprised as hell when he says, “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Why the fuck would I want to talk to you?”

He’s starin’ at the floor, and it takes him a second to answer. “There’s no reason in the world you would want to,” he says quietly. “I don’t blame you for hating me. I would feel the same way if I were in your shoes. But I would really appreciate it if you would give me just a moment of your time.” He sounds sincere, and the truth is, he’s got my curiosity up now. “Please,” he says.

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