Raven (12 page)

Chapter
16

The next morning, I leave Garrett’s room behind, walking downstairs to find Gabriella making pancakes at the stove. Rounding the corner into the dining room, Garrett and Jaime are already sitting at the table, waiting on breakfast to be served. I quickly, yet quietly, flip around to sneak away, but I’m caught in the act.

“Rian, you’re just in time for breakfast. Strawberry pancakes
are still your favorite, right?” A huge, every tooth in her mouth on display smile spreads across her lips and I can’t help but reciprocate.

Instead of joining the canoodling couple, I choose a stool at the breakfast bar facing Gabriella. I’d prefer to deal with her and her alone. As much as I’d like to be able to talk to Garrett, explain myself, it’s a pointless idea. He’s concerned with his new toy. I screwed it
up; I have no right to be jealous. Even with that being said, I don’t have to have it shoved down my throat.

“Yes, ma’am, thank you.” Putting my elbows on the counter, I lean forward to grab a knife and the pint of strawberries drying in the sink. Making myself useful, I start slicing and
try not to listen to Garrett and Jaime. I’m doing a pretty good job until Jaime lures me into the conversation.

“So, Garrett told me that you’re old friends. You’ll have to tell me some stories sometime about when he was younger.”

I debate answering or ignoring her. It would be rude to not acknowledge she spoke to me. She’s done nothing to me and I can’t misplace my anger. All my frustrations are with me … not even Garrett’s pissed me off.

“I have some stories alright,” I respond. Garrett starts choking on his coffee and Gabriella catches me smirking. Nonchalantly shrugging, I brush it off. Just because I’m being nice doesn’t mean I won’t toy with the situation. If he doesn’t want to tell her what we once were to each other, that’s his problem, I don’t have to play his little game.

“I’d love to hear them. I don’t know many of Garrett’s friends, so meeting you is really cool. Maybe we can get lunch next week.”

“I’ll check my schedule.” I won’t, though. There’s never going to be a time and place where having a meal with my ex-boyfriend
’s new girlfriend … fiancée … will fit into my life. Nope. Won’t do it.

Garrett pulls her out of the awkward conversation between us and I can finally breathe again. Regardless of our past, I want him to be happy and loved. I just wish he would pick
someone that wasn’t so dense. Is the tension in the room suffocating or is it just me? The way Gabriella keeps eyeing me, I’m guessing that she feels it, too.

Gabriella joins me at the breakfast bar, eating with me instead of Garrett and Jaime. I spend a little while catching up with her when Garrett walks Jaime out to her car and returns only moments later. Tapping me on my shoulder as he passes behind me, heading out to the pool house, he tells me to be ready in ten minutes so he can drive me home.

Gathering the few belongings I have, I say my goodbyes to Gabriella, promising to keep in touch and I’m at the truck waiting before Garrett leaves the house.

The first
few minutes of the ride are so quiet I can hear the tread of the tires hitting all the rocks in the road as we travel out toward town. To be honest, it’s driving me insane. I’ve never spent such a long time with someone and not even made simple conversation. It’s unsettling.

Reaching forward, I flip on the radio and scan the s
tations. As usual, nobody is playing anything good at this time of the morning, mostly talking and news. Out of habit, I flip down my visor and browse through the CD’s. His musical choices haven’t changed much in the last few years, mostly sticking with country. Once a southern boy, always a southern boy.

Grabbing the disc labeled “Country Mix” in girly handwriting, I’m sure it’s something that Jaime made for him and hopefully it’ll have some good choices. The first track starts to play and I immediately flip to the next song. This happens two more times until the fourth track is something I know and can enjoy listening to.

As the opening line of
If I Die Young
by The Band Perry starts to play, I relax back into my seat and let the words wash over me. Closing my eyes, every lyric hits a certain part of my heart and speaks to me. Humming to myself, I don’t realize the truck’s slowing. I don’t bother to open my eyes, thinking we’ve hit traffic, instead I sing the chorus as well as I can with tears pricking the insides of my lids.

This whole damn song is so true. People never care until you’
re dead and gone. I know there are so many things I would say to my mom and Elaine if they were here. Tell them that the lessons they tried to teach me, that I rejected so quickly when I was younger, have finally sunk in and I’m trying every day to be someone they would be proud of.

The list of my faults is longer than most, but I’m determined to be
better. Be more like them.

When the song ends, I gradually open my eyes and see we’re in fact stopped, but not in traffic. Looking out the front windshield, the lake—
our lake
—is on full display in front of me. Garrett’s not moving, only staring in the same direction as me. I’m not sure what he wants or why we’re here, but the pain of the memories this place brings squeezes on my heart.

I’m about to ask what he’s doing when
My Best Friend
by Tim McGraw comes through the speakers. My breath hitches and I quickly wipe away the one tear that’s escaped from the corner of my eye. Unable to stand it any longer, I push the button turning off the radio.

Garrett turns toward me, grits his jaw and flies out of the truck.
What the fuck is this about?
I step out onto the runner, watching him pace at the edge of the water and wonder what he’s thinking about. Is he remembering all the times we had here or is he plotting killing me? His quick movements lead me to believe the latter and I debate going out to him or staying safe in the truck. My curiosity wins.

“What are we doing here, Garrett?” I ask softly, staying a few feet back, out of arms
’ reach.

“Ya know, Rian, I don’t fucking know. Just looking at you makes me feel so damn crazy. I shouldn’t have come to pick you up. I shoulda left you there.” I bite the inside of my cheek to suppress all the things I want to say to him and let him continue. It seems he needs to get it out, no matter how painful it is for me to hear. I deserve it.

“Everything woulda been so much easier had you not moved here in high school. If I knew then what I know now, I wouldn’t have been with you. It was such a fucking mistake.”

“You used to be a real nice guy. You’re not the same person you used to be,” I say, unable to stand here and
allow him to tell me that everything we experienced together was a mistake. Nothing about us was wrong, it was all perfect. Life got in the way and messed it up more, but I’ve never regretted one second I had with him. He can call me names, tell me how fucked up I am … but saying that he wished he’d never been with me … that cuts deeper than most of my other wounds.

“That guy died, Rian. Don’t you get that?
You
killed him. The day you decided that I wasn’t worth a fucking letter,
you
pulled the plug. You were so mad at my mom for pulling the plug on Elaine, but you never thought about
me
. You’re a fucking hypocrite and don’t have the right to say anything to me.”

Walking into his space, seething, I look up into his blue eyes that have changed. They’re not soft and welcoming, but hard and unforgiving. Snarling my lip, he refuses to look down to me, acknowledge I’m within reach. I’ll get his attention.

Shoving him backward, he stumbles slightly before righting himself, still not looking at me. I push him again, harder this time, and he almost loses his footing. Getting nowhere, I ball my fist and punch him in the chest. Again and again until my knuckles turn red.

“What did you want me to do, Garrett? I couldn’t write you and tell you I was done, because I was terrified
and more in love with you than anything else, but
you left me
. For whatever reasons you did, it didn’t matter to me. I had lost everyone I loved and you were one of them. I
needed
you. I couldn’t breathe and you were gone.” I keep striking until I realize I’m wrapped tightly in his arms and he’s whispering to the top of my head.

“It’s okay. Get it out. Let it go.” Pulling myself out of his embrace, I shove him again.

“No. You don’t get to do that, you condescending asshole. You regret me …
us
. Then you want to try to comfort me. Fuck you, Garrett.” I turn to go back to the road, knowing I won’t be getting back in that truck with him.

“I never regretted you!” he yells when I’m about ten yards away. I stop in my tracks, willing my heart and head to get on the same page. This needs to get easier at some point. I never stopped loving him, but all the years
since the last time we spoke should have done something to help this moment.

“You just said you did. Don’t try to take it back now.” My heart wins and I flip around, not moving toward him, but showing him the respect of looking in his eyes as I speak to him.

“I said it was a mistake, nothing about regret. You’re not the mistake. I made the mistake of asking Jaime to marry me knowing how in love with you I was. How in love with you I still am. Not for one second, even through all the anger and pain, did I not love you or regret our time. Had I known that I wouldn’t ever be able to get over you, I wouldn’t have been with you, because it fucking kills me, Rian. Do you get that? If I hadn’t come to get you, I wouldn’t have had to see you and might have been able to lie to myself long enough to be content with Jaime. You did this to me.”

I don’t know why, but my feet start walking on their own accord, then start running. Before I know it, I’m jumping into his arms and he’s not pushing me away, but encouraging it. When my lips brush over his, all those familiar electrical currents start coursing through my body. At that slight contact, Garrett doesn’t hold back, but slams his mouth to mine and kisses me more passionately than he ever has before.

Matching his fervor, I return all the eagerness for this kind of touch I’ve been searching for all these years. Reveling in it. I pull my dress over my head and toss it to the ground. Garrett breaks from our kiss, examining our surroundings and smiles one of those heart-stopping smiles he used to give me when we were young and carefree. Setting me down, he quickly strips out of his clothes, picks me back up and carries me into the water until we’re neck deep.

His hands roam my body, revisiting all his favorite places he learned that weekend we were together. He pries my legs from around his waist, removes my underwear in one swipe and taps my ass. Remembering that was his signal, I wrap my legs back around him, crossing my ankles behind his back.

Of all the times we were intimate, it was always lovemaking. None of that is existent here today … no whispering sweet nothings, no foreplay … only pure desperation for each other. Roughly, Garrett enters me and I cry out into his mouth. Kissing me harder and biting at my lips, he muffles all my whimpers and his groans at the same time. Only minutes later, he stills.

“Fuck,” he whispers, resting his forehead against mine.

“What’s wrong?” I pant, my hips still moving, begging him to match my thrusts.

“Condom.” Slowly, he withdraws from my body and I let my legs fall to the sandy bottom of the lake.

“Shit.”

“Yeah.”

We wade back to shore, gathering our clothes. Thankfully, he still keeps a few towels in the bed of his truck. Grabbing one, I dry my body and shimmy back into my clothes and he does the same. We climb into the truck at the same time, flip back on the radio and silently make the drive to my apartment.

I have a feeling in the pit of my stomach that what just happened at the lake was closure for him. By his actions the rest of the hour or so drive to Lexington, not talking or even trying to start a meaningless conversation, it’s clear that he just needed to be the one to end things.

When he pulls up to my building, I give him a tight-lipped smile and exit the truck. Walking around to the driver’s side, I climb up the two steps so I’m eye level with the middle of the glass.

“It was nice seeing you again, Garrett,” I say, fighting the pancakes rising in my throat and the tears I’ll shed as soon as I’m safe inside my home.

“You, too, Rian. Take care.” My feelings are confirmed as I climb down and slink into the building. As soon as I lock the deadbolt inside my apartment, I slide down the cool wood, wrap my arms around my knees and set free all of the emotions I’ve been fighting for four years. This is the first time since Elaine died that I’ve allowed myself to feel. I held strong to my word. I gave myself that one day and then I pushed it all down, never to be heard from again. Until yesterday, that is.

Chapter
17

Loud thudding … knocking sounds on the other side of where I’m sitting. Standing up
and looking out the peep hole, Garrett’s standing there, impatient looking.

“Rian, open the door,” he calls, banging his fist against the door again.

Wiping my eyes with my palms, I try to look as normal as possible when I unlock the door. I don’t even get the chance to turn the handle when he’s storming over the threshold, into my safe place. He slams the door shut and casually looks around before he faces me.

“Roommates?” he asks. I shake my head no. “Good.”

Spinning me around, he slams me into the wall, lifting me to straddle his waist. His mouth aggressively finds mine and devours me.

“Bedroom?” he grunts.

“Last room on the left.”

Garrett moves to the back of the apartment, groping my ass and biting on my lips so hard I’m sure they’ll bruise. Inside my room and at the edge of my bed, he lays both of us down more
gently than I was expecting. Once again, he strips of all his clothing and I remove my dress. I’m naked from the waist down already, blushing, remembering my panties are floating around the lake somewhere.

Bending to grab a condom from his wallet, Garrett grins when he produces the small foiled packet.
Holding his findings in one hand, he maneuvers up the bed, coming to rest between my shamelessly parted thighs. Long, lazy kisses are peppered around my neck and down to my throat. He toys with the pebbled peaks hidden beneath the lace of my bra before shredding it with his teeth to get to the prize beneath.

Sucking one into his mouth, he manipulates the other with his fingers that have become more skilled over the years.
Unashamedly moaning, he growls at my noises, only encouraging him further down my body until he reaches the thinly trimmed strip of hair at my pubic bone. He smiles up at me before scooting all the way off the bed, kneeling on the floor and swiping his tongue the length of my pussy.

“Shit,” I cry out, bucking my hips to meet his mouth and throwing my head back. My hands go to my heavy breasts to give them the attention they so desperately need. Every inch of my body’s on fire and desiring to be touched, manipulated, fondled—it’s like I can’t get enough of anything.

Garrett gently nibbles on my clit, putting two fingers into my wet channel, pumping them feverishly. I’m on the brink, ready to explode, when everything stops. No more teeth, no more tongue and those magical fingers aren’t in my body any longer.

“Wait. No. Go back. Don’t stop. I was right there,” I whine, the frustration of a robbed orgasm hovering over me.

“It’s been too long. I can’t wait anymore. I have to get inside you.” Garrett quickly tears the packet open, sheathes himself in a matter of seconds and roughly thrusts into my body.

Arching my back and raising my knees as high as I can get them, I clutch onto his back, pawing at him. My body’s never known this kind of
ecstasy. Even our first few times together, it was nothing like this. He already knows everything my body wants, but to have the experience behind that touch … it’s magical. I continue clawing at him, trying desperately to get more. I can’t seem to get close enough. I want so much more. Regardless of how brutal and methodical his hips are slamming into mine, I need him harder, faster, closer, deeper … I just
need
.

“You’re so fucking beautiful right now,” Garrett says.

The familiar fire, that slow burn, starts deep within my belly, threatening to explode every time his pelvis presses to my clit. My hips buck involuntarily to meet him with each drive, our momentum growing. Stars dance behind my eyes as I detonate and completely surrender my body to him. With quivering legs, my body spent, my knees fall to the side as Garrett continues his assault, filling me more than any man ever has.

Placing his arm underneath my back, Garrett lifts me to get a better angle to finish off my already sated body. As my second orgasm builds, tears gather in the corners of my eyes, wanting to spill down my cheeks. With all the resolve I can muster, I fight them tooth and nail, but every time Garrett’s lips brush across my own, moaning my name, the walls I put in place all those years ago crack
, brick by brick, stone by stone.

When Garrett’s body stills, his back going rigid, he comes with a grunt
, still lazily pushing in and out of me, milking the last of his orgasm. Instead of rolling off me to dispose of the condom like my other partners, he props himself up on his elbows and brushes the hair away from my face and the wetness from my cheeks.

“I don’t remember it being that amazing,” he whispers, leaving feather light kisses across my jaw line.

“We were younger. Didn’t know shit. But that … that was … there aren’t even words to describe how wonderful.” Nothing in this moment tells me he’s searching for closure, like I felt earlier, but quite the opposite. This could be a fresh start, a new beginning, a third chance for us to get it right.

Just as my hopes begin to skyrocket, imagining all the things we missed out on and how we can make up for them, Garrett’s words bring me back to reality, driving the point home that my earlier assumptions were more correct than these falsified, post orgasmic dreams.

“Fuck. Jaime.”

Harshly shoving him off me, I climb off the bed and walk straight to the bathroom. Quickly cleaning myself up, I grab a pair of jeans and a tee shirt from the dirty clothes bin. I don’t care if they’re three or four days old, I need to put as much distance between us right now
as I can. When I make my way back into the bedroom, Garrett’s sitting on the edge of the bed, fully dressed and fidgeting with his truck keys.

He’s leaving. Again.

“Rian. We should talk about what happened,” Garrett says, not bothering to angle his head to meet my eyes, but looking down. Ashamed.

“There’s nothing to talk about. I’m not gonna tell her. Trust me, this isn’t the
first
one night stand I’ve had. Not even the first encounter I’ve had with a man who already had someone at home waiting on him.” I flinch, remembering the activities from the night prior with Jerry, his wife, and the good ol’ boys in blue.

At my admission, Garrett cringes, probably not wanting to imagine me be
neath some strange man while he was just balls deep inside of me. “That’s not what this was. You’re not a one night. You’re worth more than that.”

Swallowing down every ounce of self pity I’m feeling, I make sure my bad-ass mask is firmly in place. “You don’t need to say anything. Tell your girl,
or don’t tell her, it makes no difference to me. I loved you once. We had something special when we were kids. I just hope this won’t affect the relationship I’d like to rebuild with your mom.”

“You never have to worry about that, Rian. You’re always welcome in our house. Mom would kill me if I drove you off. Before you woke up, she was talking about how much she missed you and how great it is to have you back in her life.” He stands, dropping his hands to his sides and shoving them in his pockets, like he’s unsure what to do with them. That’s what got us here in the first place wasn’t it
? hands. Figuring I should do the same, I put mine in the back pockets of my jeans and rock back and forth on the heels of my bare feet.

“Then all’s good. You deal with Jaime however you want and I’ll call your mom later next week to make plans. I don’t want to get in the way of your life, Garrett. You deserve all the happiness in the world.” I quickly turn and start toward the front door, ready to show him the way out.

Garrett’s half way out when he pivots and pushes a stray piece of hair out of my face before retracting his hand, looking at it skeptically. It’s the current. I feel it every time he touches me and I’d place money on the fact that he’s staring at his fingertips like they’ve just been electrocuted. “You do, too, you know.” Not elaborating, he’s in the parking lot and pulled away before I can even question him.

****

Over the next two weeks, I slowly realize how much I’ve missed Gabriella. Between our daily phone calls and the few lunch dates we’ve had, it seems like everything is coming full circle and I am getting a second chance. Not so much with Garrett, but with Gabriella, and that’s fine with me.

I went to court for the assault charges against Jerry’s wife and thankfully they were dropped. After the officers looked closer at the situation and their haste reaction to my past police contact, they deemed that I, in fact, was not the aggressor, but the victim of a bat-shit crazy wife who had just caught her husband in the act.

Two nights ago, I went back to the same club in search of another guy. Even after washing my sheets and ridding my home of anything that reminded me of that night with Garrett, he still lingers. At night, I wake up from the most erotic dreams, still able to feel him inside of me. I figure it’s only because he was the last man I had sex with and the quickest way to get over one person is to get under someone new, right?

That turned into a failure of epic proportions. Not only was the guy no
t as sexy as Garrett, he was clumsy and almost immature in his actions. Pawing at my breasts instead of caressing them. Pumping a single digit into my pussy instead of angling it to hit my g-spot. He obviously wanted to get off quickly, not even offering to take me back to his place, but fuck me in a stall in the bathroom at the club. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not anywhere close to being a prude, but there are certain things I’m not up for. Getting railed in a disgusting bathroom with vomit next to the toilet is the furthest thing from sexy. Richard Simmons sweating to the oldies gets me wetter than puke and tampon wrappers scattered across a piss covered floor.

So, today, forgetting about the mistakes of
my past, I’m taking Kelsie up on some sound advice. She told me about a new gym they opened in town. One of the bar regulars had told her about it the night prior and she thinks I should go relieve some stress. I read somewhere once that
a healthy way
to overcome any kind of frustration, especially sexually, is to work out. I walk down Main Street in search of something to give away the location, but I’m coming up empty handed. There are no balloons or fancy signs anywhere on this block.

Checking the address I wrote down once again, I know for sure it’s within this stretch. Looking closer, the corner building where a fishing store used to be, white letters on the window tell me it’s what I’m looking for. I pull open the front door and a bell hooked to the top chimes, alerting whoever the hell’s inside that a patron’s just entered.

At first appearance, this isn’t the kind of gym I was expecting. There are no treadmills or stair steppers, not even an elliptical machine. There are, however, a shit ton of free weights and a boxing ring right in the middle. Without any florescent lights gleaming overhead, the entire place is a dingy shade of “what the fuck did I just walk into?”

“Hello,” I cautiously yell, secretly praying that this isn’t some kind of
cult gathering place I’m automatically entered into because I’ve seen their secret lair.

“Give me a sec,” a
gravelly voice sounds from the back. A few moments later, an exceptionally tall man starts walking toward me. “Oh,” he looks me up and down and then his lips twist into a smirk. “The nail salon’s a few doors down.”

Glancing down at my appearance—a fitted tank top with built in bra, three quarter calf yoga pants and running sneakers—I don’t know what would give him the impression I’m out for a day of pampering.

He silently dismisses me and makes his way to wherever it is that he came from. My blood’s boiling, knowing I’ve just been discounted in a gym because I happen to have a pair of C-cup tits and the lack of a penis between my legs. “Excuse me,” I say and he turns back to face me. “I’m not looking for a manicure. A friend told me you’re new in town and I just happen to be looking for a gym.”

Examining my surroundings once again, I’m not sure what I’ll do in this place or how I can
get a workout, but on principle and principle alone, this guy isn’t going to treat me like a princess Barbie. He’s going to acknowledge and respect me, even if I have zero idea what the hell I’m doing here.

“Doll, this isn’t one of those gyms like on the TV. You don’t walk in and pay a membership fee and walk on the treadmills
a few days after work. There’s no daycare for your brats. There’re no tanning beds. I think you’d be better off finding something more your speed.”

“And exactly how do you know what my speed is?” Anger courses through my veins and all I want to do is punch him in his smart ass, condescending mouth.

“We don’t work out here, doll. We train. There’s a huge difference.”

Still pissed, but slightly intrigued, I don’t move to the exit. “And if I’m looking to be trained?”

“You’re in for a world of pain then. I train fighters. Men who have so much aggression and pent up anger, this is the only way they can deal with it. I train them to hit and take a hit. Like I said, this isn’t a day spa, it’s for people who don’t know what else to do with themselves, and you don’t strike me as that kinda girl.”

His words hit home. With the exception of being a man, it sounds like this is exactly what I need. Bettering myself has to start somewhere and why not here
? I’ve been in fights and always feel slightly relieved afterward. I might have hit a goldmine.