Poison Me Sweetly (13 page)

The beauty of the day draws me out of my funk, and
after my last class lets out for the afternoon, I make my way over to
Brotman
Hall where the Lyman Lough fountain is located. I
settle near the fountain, pulling out my laptop and my binders as I work on my
current project. I figure maybe I can dredge up some interest in it if I'm
outside, letting the sun chase away my problems.

I have my nose in my binder when someone clears their
throat above me. I look up to see Caleb. His backpack is slung over one
shoulder, and his hands are in his pockets. His expression is reproachful as he
waits to see if I'm going to cut him down before he can even open his mouth.
The bruise on his jaw stands out, even with the scruff that he still hasn't
shaved, and it dawns on me that I'd hit him harder than I'd thought. Then my
eyes drop to my right hand where bruises color my knuckles. My hand still
smarts with pain when I use it.

“Hear me out?” Caleb asks quietly.

I'm silent for a long moment as I debate whether to
hash this out with him or not. Caleb's nothing but trouble. But the fact that I
put that bruise on his jaw has me feeling like I should at least stick around
long enough to hear him out. Plus, I think I owe him an apology for resorting
to violence. I close my laptop, then secure my papers in the binder before
setting them on my backpack. I look up at him and nod.

Relief flickers across his features, and he looks to
my left before looking at me questioningly. “Mind if I sit near you?”

“Afraid I'm going to give you another bruise to match
the one you've already got?”

He rubs his sore jaw as his lip quirks up slightly.
“I'll take another bruise over having my dick cut off.”

“Remember that, do you?”

He gives me a look. “You nearly dislocated my jaw. I
heard your threat afterwards even through the pain. Figured I'd better take
your shit seriously considering you back up your threats.”

I just shake my head at him.

He sits down next to me and he draws his knees up slightly,
his wrists settling on them as he looks out over the students milling around.
“I was piss-ass drunk Friday night. I was having a shit day and took to
drowning my bad mood in a bottle of whiskey,” he says bluntly. I hadn't
expected him to get straight to the point, so I stare at him with surprise. He
doesn't look at me as he speaks again. “I remember everything. You actually
wanted to sober me up and get me a cab.” He sighs, regret flickering across his
features. “You were the only one that seemed to read my mood and knew alcohol
wasn't going to get me anywhere. Then I insult you, chase after you and...” his
voice trails off, and he winces before rubbing his hands over his scruffy face.

I know what he's remembering. He'd played my body like
a violin in that damn recliner. I'd been helpless until he'd opened his mouth
and made it clear I was just a screw. It's alarming to know that I don't want
to be just another quick lay, but yet I refuse to be anything more to anyone.
Talk about fucked up.

His head turns to meet my gaze, shame evident in his
eyes. “You made it clear you weren't going to sleep with me. I knew that and I
still... I was wrong with what I did.” The sincerity in his voice has me
momentarily speechless as his eyes burn into mine. I can see he really means
it. He continues, “You told me no, and I ignored it. Fuck,” he says under his
breath, a tick starting in his jaw. “That's a word you don't ignore. I'm so
sorry, Zoey.”

The last thing I expected was to find out that Caleb’s
beating himself up over his own actions that night. The expression on his face
tells me just how remorseful he is, and the shame is still etched across his
features. “I could have smacked you anytime I wanted,” I offer.

He blinks with confusion. “Come again?”

I can't believe I am doing this. “You weren't exactly
holding me down,” I mutter. Well, he had been for about a second, but that
doesn't exactly count in my book.

“Maybe not, but it still wasn't right. I know what
you're like in my arms, and I knew I could get you off. Your body is just so
damn responsive. It didn't matter to me at that point that you didn't really
want it, at least not with me that night and not there of all places. I was an
ass.”

“It's nice to know that you acknowledge it shouldn't
have happened,” I say slowly as I try to navigate this increasingly weird
conversation. “As long as we're being honest here, I should admit that hitting
you was wrong.”

“Are you kidding me? You threatened my ass in that
recliner, and I
still
came after you. Dumbass move on my part. I
deserved that right hook you gave me,” he says with a shake of his head.

“I'm apologizing here and you're brushing it off,” I
muse.

He turns his head, his blue eyes connecting with mine.
“I've never had a girl hit me before. This is probably the wrong time to say
this, but damn if it didn't turn me on. I like a girl that can take care of
herself, and you are definitely someone not to tangle with.” He smiles at me
crookedly. “You're downright mean sometimes, but I think I like it.”

My mouth falls open before I manage to snap it shut.
“You're a glutton for punishment then. I'm not a nice person.”

“Nice people don't try to sober others up. You were
nice to me Friday night before I messed it all up. I think there's a lot of
sides to you, Zoey. You just show the sides you want people to see and hide the
rest. Not sure why, but that's your deal.”

I'm not sure what to say, so I stay silent.

“I have class here in a few. I was hoping that maybe
we could try to start over,” he says as he studies me. “Ace told me about your
deal with them, and how you guys are friends but not friends. ‘Non-friends’, I
think is the word he used. I'd like to be your non-friend, Zoey. A strictly
platonic non-friendship. Can we try that?”

This conversation has taken a turn that I wasn't
expecting, and I can't afford to have any more supposed non-friends. Every time
I screw up with one of the guys, it hurts more and more. Add Caleb to the mix
and things are bound to get messy.

Caleb clears his throat awkwardly, assuming my silence
is my answer. “No, it is. I get it.”

I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and frown at
him. “Have the guys told you just how messed up I really am?”

“They’re kind of tight lipped about you. I think they
tell me only what they feel would benefit me at the time. You've got your shit,
everyone does. I just want to be able to hang with you and the group, not have
it be awkward, you know? Up to you, though.”

He has a point. If we can't get along that leaves us
both in a shit spot when it comes to the group. “Okay,” I agree. “We'll find a
way to get along. Non-friends,” I say with a wry smile.

The smile that flickers over his lips has his blue
eyes brightening. “I won't fuck it up.”

“No, I'll be the one to fuck it up,” I correct,
because that’s what I do. I mess things up.

He picks up his backpack and smirks. “I'm sure I'll
forgive you. Later,” he says before he lithely rises to his feet and ambles
away.

My eyes can't help but drop to his ass as he walks
off. My teeth sink into my lower lip, and once he's out of sight, I sigh
loudly. Platonic is going to be a real bitch. I've been battling my attraction
to him since I woke up with him handcuffed to my bed.

I'm distracted when my phone vibrates in my back
pocket. I pull it out and look at the new text message. It's from an unknown
number.
Do non-friends swap texts?
A chuckle escapes me before I clear
the screen and slip the phone in my backpack. I'll let my non-reply be my
answer.

Tuesday night I cave. I can't handle Ace's silence any
longer. When I'd seen him on campus earlier that day with the group, he'd been
friendly with the others, but he hadn't said anything to me. It hurt, and it
shouldn't.

I can hear their television next door, so I know one of
them is home. After chewing on my bottom lip for a while, debating how to go
about apologizing, I decide to do it in the only way I know how.

I order pizza.

Two large pizzas are on their way to be delivered to
their apartment. I know, it's
kinda
lame. But I'm not
the type of person that can just walk up to someone they've wronged and just be
like, “Hey, I'm sorry.” I know I blurted out the bitch remark to Ashley the
other day, but that's different. She's not someone I see on a daily basis, and
we've hardly spoken since high school. Ace matters.

With a soft sigh, I flop down on my couch and stare up
at the ceiling.

This is my life.

It's messed up.
I'm
messed up. I'll lash out at
someone—someone I care for—just to hurt them first before they can hurt me or abandon
me. I cling to my loneliness like it's a damn security blanket. Who the fuck
wants to be alone? No one, really. But me... I need it. I need that distance
from others. I need to protect myself. If someone ever abandoned me again or
God forbid died, I think I'd break permanently.

Hell, I'm already halfway there. I doubt it'd take
much to send me over the edge. A groan escapes me and I fling an arm over my
eyes. My thoughts are leading to dangerous territory, and I can't seem to stop
them. It's like they have a will of their own tonight.

A little voice inside my head is telling me I
shouldn't have sent the pizza over as a peace offering. I would be a lot better
off without Ace and the guys. They'll hurt me somehow. It's inevitable. Or I'll
do something so stupid that they'll never forgive me. They'll turn their backs
on me someday, I just know it. And why do they stick around anyway? It's not
like I give them anything of myself. Not really. They're fun, but I don't let
them
in
. No one's allowed in. Not anymore.

A knock on my apartment door startles me out of my
miserable musings. It's either Jeremy stopping by to thank me for the pizza, or
it's the pizza guy dropping off the pizza that Ace rejected. I force myself to
my feet, and when I open the door, I find Ace.

He gives me his usual lazy smile. “You helping us eat
or what?”

And just like that, we're okay. Relief slides through
me and I nod. “Sure. If you want.”

“We want,” he says simply as he bends down and hefts
me over his shoulder.

“Ace!” I exclaim as my world tilts upside down while I
hang over his shoulder. He pats me affectionately on my ass before shutting my
door and sauntering down the hall to his apartment. When the door opens, I hear
the blaring TV and the scent of pizza assaults me.

Jeremy snorts. “What? She couldn't walk?”

Ace sets me down, and I swipe my hair out of my face
and freeze at the sight of the big ass flat screen TV on the wall in the living
room. No wonder I could hear their TV from my place. They'd upgraded. Like
seriously upgraded.

“We're staying in tonight and watching a movie. You
game?” Jeremy asks me. He’s sitting on one of the couches eating pizza out of a
box with no plate.

“Sure.” I sit down next to Jeremy, then accept the
beer from Ace when he pauses in front of me to hold it out. “You guys are
usually out. Or you are,” I say to Ace. “I was surprised when I heard the TV
from my apartment.”

Ace shrugs and opens the other pizza box on the coffee
table. “I have an exam on Friday, so I'm being a good boy this week and
studying in my free time. Then I'm
gettin
' naughty
Friday night,” he says wickedly, waggling his eyebrows.

“I'm sure you will,” I say with amusement.

The next day, I work at Grendel's, and my mind stays
pleasantly occupied. But the second I enter my silent apartment, my mood
shifts.

The darkness is coming.

I can feel it.

I try to brush it off and take a hot shower. The water
is scalding, and I welcome the distraction. The slight hint of pain keeps the darkness
at bay as I wash the grease and grime off my body. By the time I'm finished, my
skin is flushed red, and I'm overtly warm.

The mirror beckons to me, and I refuse to wipe the
steam off its surface. I can't look at myself tonight. I know if I do, I'll end
up looking at the tattoo... His name has been right there on the outer edges of
my mind all day today.

The darkness wants to take over. It wants to trigger
one of my break-downs. It wants to butcher me with a thousand invisible knives.

Shit, shit, shit.

I don't want it.

I've been battling it for a week now. If I let it take
me over, I'll lose it for a while. I'll grow numb to my surroundings, and I'll
be trapped by my own self-incriminating guilt and grief. I physically feel ill at
the thought of what's waiting for me at the outer recesses of my mind. It's
just waiting for me to open the gates so it can flood my mind and torture me.

My feet are moving before I realize it. In my room, I
yank on a pair of panties, the first pair of shorts I see, and a casual tank. I
walk barefoot out of my apartment and down the hall to the guys'. I can hear
the TV, and I know they are home. Or at least Ace is since he's cramming all
week.

I hesitate.

What if the darkness comes while I'm with them? I need
their distraction, but what if it still comes? If it does, I’ll lose it for a
while, and when it’s over they'll suffocate me with their watchful gazes.
They'll smother me with random texts and drop by my place with dumb excuses to
see me so that they can check up on me.

I draw in a deep breath and slowly exhale.

Leave or stay.

Which is it?

My reddened hand reaches out and turns the knob. I
step inside, and I'm immediately assailed by the sounds of gunfire. The guys
are watching a movie.

Ace looks up when he catches sight of me, and he stops
the movie. “Hey, Z. Come on in.”

It's then that I spy Caleb. All three guys are
lounging on the navy blue couches, beer bottles scattering the coffee table,
and they look like they're settling in for the night.

Now I feel awkward as if I'm intruding. Which I am,
basically.

“What's up with your skin?” Ace walks over to me, his
eyebrows furrowing as his eyes scan me from head to toe. I look down and see
that my skin is still fiery red. He reaches out and touches a strand of my
hair, a droplet of water drips onto the pad of his finger. His eyes lock on
mine, and the knowing look in them has me cringing inside.

I'd fled to their sanctuary without thinking and
hadn't even bothered to dry my hair first. The fact that I'd let this little
observation slip past me, tells me I'm worse off than I thought.

His hand reaches out and cups the side of my flushed
cheek. “You're warm.”

“I smelled like grease, so I took a shower,” I say
lamely. Dang it! This is the last place I should be.

Jeremy is suddenly in front of me, his brown eyes
scanning me up and down briefly before his expression suddenly shifts into a
wide smile. “Come sit with me. I'd rather cuddle with your fine ass than
Caleb's hairy one.”

“The day I cuddle with you is the day my balls have
shriveled up and died,” Caleb calls back from the couch.

Jeremy literally picks me up, wrapping his strong arms
around me. My arms slip around his neck as my legs automatically folding around
his hips. His embrace has my chaotic thoughts calming, and I hug him tightly.
Since he's sharing the big couch with Caleb, he plops down at the end and draws
me closer, embracing me almost protectively. “You're all cuddly and warm,” he
murmurs. His hand runs through my wet hair gently. “Couldn't wait to get your
hands on me, could you?” he teases.

A smile breaks across my lips, and I draw back to look
at him. “Nah, I'm only here for the TV.”

“Brat.” He puts his hands on my waist, then he plucks
me off his lap and tosses me on the couch between him and Caleb. “Shut up then
so we can finish the movie. You can pick the next one.”

I tuck my bare legs beneath my body and relax into the
soft cushions. “You guys are going to sit through
The Notebook
with me
again?” I can't resist asking.

“Hell, no. You just lost your turn,” Ace says as he
reclines on the love seat and points the controller at the TV. “Be a good girl
or I'm tossing you out.”