Walk (Gentry Boys) (14 page)

A crash broke my sleep and had me jumping out of bed, grabbing the baseball bat I kept in my room in case of emergencies.  

It was still dark outside.  A glance at the bedside clock said it was ten minutes past four.  I tensed just inside the doorway, listening for more sounds.  I didn’t hear any.  Maybe Bash had come home after all.   All the lights were off as I crept into the dark living room. 

“Who are you gonna crush with that?”  Bash’s amused voice was right at my back.  He turned on a lamp from where he’d been sitting on the couch. 

“What are you doing here?  And what crashed?”

“I live here.  And I dropped a flower pot.” 

“We don’t have flower pots.” 

“Oh. Well then I dropped something else.”  Bash’s head rolled back on the couch and he yawned.  “Don’t hassle me, Gentry.  I’ve gotta get up in like three hours to take Nana to church.” 

I sat down on the couch.  “Thought you were pulling an overnighter.”

Bash shrugged.  “Whatever.  She wasn’t a keeper.  Had hair growing on her left earlobe and used the word ‘indubitably’ at least four times.  Plus she strongly hinted I wasn’t really welcome to stick around until dawn.” 

A moment of silence went by and then Bash poked me in the arm. 

“What about you?  Thought you were going to see your girl.” 

“Evie’s not my girl.” 

“She should be.”  Bash yawned again.  “Now that’s one who qualifies as a keeper.  I mean, she could use bigger tits and there’s not much ass to grab onto, but her cute figure is worth a few wet dreams.  Plus she’s got that honest good girl thing going on.  That seems to suit you.” 

“
She’s
not the problem.” 

He shrugged.  “So just screw her wholesome little brains out and see where it goes.” 

“Can’t go anywhere good.” 

“You don’t know that until you try.” 

I scowled.  “What are you, a fucking late night help line?”

“Why?  Do you need help?”

“I don’t need shit.”   

“Well, Dr. Bash says otherwise.  So go get it.” 

I shook my head, unable to explain to Bash why I’d just run out on a beautiful, thoughtful woman who cared about me.  “Not happening.”

Bash cracked one eye open.  “You’re a fucking killjoy, you know that?  You think Evie’s too good for you or some shit.  Well, she’s not.  She likes you.  She wants you.  Give the poor girl a break.  Give yourself one, Stone.” 

I didn’t answer.  I was thinking about Evie.  The puzzled look of hurt in her eyes when I backed away from her.  The painfully true things she’d said about me. 

“Going to bed,” Bash said as he stood and stretched.  He reached for the lamp.  “You prefer to brood in the darkness or the light?”

“Leave it on.” 

I sat there for a long time.  Hours passed, as hours do.  There’s no stopping them.  I watched the sky begin to lighten from solid black to hazy gray as morning approached.  Rain began falling, at first lightly and then more insistently. The forecast I’d heard earlier said the remnants of a Gulf hurricane would drench the desert for the next two days.  People woke up and made noise.  Cars slid through the rain.

I might have dozed off here and there.  The next thing I knew Bash’s alarm was buzzing and he was stumbling out of his bedroom toward the shower. 

“Jeez,” he swore when he spotted me.  “You’re still there, right where I fucking left you.  Oh, Cappie texted, said the event at the zoo was called off on account of the weather.”

“Okay.”  I’d forgotten I was supposed to work today in the first place. 

When Bash emerged in a towel fifteen minutes later he warned, “Don’t sulk on the couch all damn morning.” 

“I won’t,” I said. 

And I wouldn’t.  It was time to take Evie’s advice and let go of the ghosts and the regrets. 

It was time to take what I wanted and give something back in return. 

Evie

There’s something about raw humiliation that makes a person severely tired.  Last night as soon as Stone was gone I tore off my seduction lingerie and stuffed it underneath a duffel bag in my closet where I hopefully wouldn’t run into it for a while.   Then I put on flannel pajamas and fell asleep atop my bed covers until the gray light of morning woke me.   The day was cool and rainy and I had nowhere to be, nobody to be with, so I curled into a ball and went back to sleep until ten o’clock. 

What finally drove me out of bed was hunger.  Well, that and the unpleasant fact that Stone kept invading my dreams with his body and his voice and his clear blue eyes and then more of his body. He lurked around every unwelcome corner of my subconscious. What an asshole. 

I drowned a bowl of cornflakes in milk and ate heartily.  The feeling of pained vulnerability wouldn’t quite leave me.  Even when I turned on some music all I kept hearing were the terrible words we’d said to each other. 

When he called last night, so late, so unexpectedly, I could hear something in his voice.  Lust.  Desire.  Need.  That’s when I realized I’d been waiting for it all along. 

Once Stone was through the door we got busy right away and it felt so good.  I almost lost it just straddling him as his mouth hungrily explored everywhere. Even though I could have gotten off just fooling around on the couch I didn’t mind when he pulled me down to the floor and started sliding on a condom.  Stone was in such a fever.  I’d never seen him like that before, abandoning all control and letting himself go.  My muscles were trembling as I anticipated feeling the first thrust of what I’d been aching for. 

Then everything went wrong.  When I touched his face, reminding him this wasn’t some random hookup, it wasn’t some attempt to guilt him into a relationship.  I wouldn’t have done anything so backhanded.  Stone and I weren’t strangers anymore yet there was more between us than friendship. There had been since the beginning.  When I said those soft words all I wanted was for him to know that I really saw him. 
Who
he was, not
what
he was.  Not just some tortured ex-con trying to beat back his demons and figure out his place in the world.  Stone Gentry was beautiful.  He was someone I could fall for if he let me. 

I grimaced into my cornflakes as I remembered what came after that. 

Rejection.  Bewilderment.  Anger. 

He left when I told him to, even though it was the last thing I wanted. 

With a sigh I dumped my cereal in the sink and checked on Teddy.  He watched me expectantly as I filled his water and cleaned the poop out of his habitat.  Once that gross task was complete I bent down and tickled him. 

“Stay away from boys,” I whispered as he nudged my hand.  “They’ll shred your heart.” 

The reflection that greeted me in the bathroom mirror was somewhat ghastly.  My face was puffy and my hair was in tangles.  I decided to treat myself to a hot bath, using copious quantities of my eucalyptus mint aromatherapy body wash, which promised right on the bottle to ‘reduce feelings of tension and uncertainty’.  By the time I washed my hair and wrapped myself in a towel I did feel slightly more cheerful. 
Very
slightly.   In other words, I wasn’t tempted to crouch on my bed, sobbing in a fetal position any longer.  I did, however, return to my flannel pajamas. 

The Simon and Garfunkel album I’d started playing earlier ended and the record player needle was just scraping the end of the disc.  I sorted through my old albums, trying to find something that fit my mood.  This was actually Macon’s collection.  He’d always loved vintage things like typewriters and records players.  He started collecting records when he was around thirteen and had amassed quite an assortment of classic rock.  When he began his descent into hell, my mother removed them all from his room and hid them, realizing that sooner or later he would sell them to fund his addiction. She figured that someday he’d be thankful to have them back.  When she sold the house and moved to Utah I took custody of them.  Lately I’d been listening to those records more and more, still harboring the same hope that keeping them meant someday Macon would return. 

I carefully stacked the albums and left them in their cabinet for now.  Maybe later I’d try again to find something that seemed suitable to nurse these post-rejection blues.  Right now I was just restless and unhappy. 

The rain outside was falling harder now, some kind of tropical storm remnant that had stubbornly traveled all the way here from the Gulf.  The storm was expected to linger for twenty four hours and cause quite a mess if you believed the forecasts.

When I was a kid I loved the rain.  Macon did not. Whenever I dragged him out the backdoor to go run around in the grass underneath a stormy sky he always brought an umbrella and hung back, warning me about lighting bolts and watching with worried disapproval until I had my fill of dancing in mud puddles.   Of course, Macon was stronger than me and could have easily refused to go out altogether.  But he always came along because that’s what brothers do.  They stand guard throughout even your most foolish quests. 

When I opened the sliding glass door to the balcony I noticed that the rain was falling at a slant, soaking my clay pots full of half dead marigolds.  I stepped outside, stretching my hand out to feel the miracle of cold drops on my skin. 

That’s when I saw him. 

He was motionless and his head was down like he was either praying or meditating as he stood underneath one of the willow acacias that shaded the parking lot.  The tree wasn’t dense enough to keep the rain off him and the dark fabric of his shirt was plastered to his body.  Even from up here I could see the outline of every sculpted muscle.  I wondered just how long he’d been standing out there.  As I watched he raked a hand through his wet hair and briefly pressed his forehead against the trunk of the tree.  He hadn’t noticed me yet.   

Since I didn’t feel like yelling down into the storm and putting on a show for the neighbors I left my apartment and went downstairs. As I rounded the corner to the parking lot, I froze when I saw he was no longer standing by the tree.  Instead he’d moved to the open area just beneath my balcony. He was looking right at me.   

“Evie.” 

I wrapped my arms around myself.  The storm had caused the temperature to plunge.  “Are you coming up?”

“Do you want me to?”

Right now what I wanted was to be really angry at him for the rest of the day while I treated myself to junk food and mood music.  But he was already ruining such plans by standing there all sexy and dripping and sincere. 

“You may as well.  Come on, Stone.” 

He followed me up and then stopped short of entering my apartment. 

“I’ll get your carpet soaking wet.” 

I looked over my shoulder.  “I don’t give a flying fuck about the carpet.” 

He cracked a smile and stepped over the threshold.  My bath towels were still damp but I brought him one anyway.  I kept my distance while he mopped off his face and hair.  His jeans weren’t too bad but his shirt was soaked. 

“I can throw your shirt in the dryer,” I offered. 

He shrugged.  “I’m fine.” 

“Aren’t you cold?”

“Nope.” 

“Liar. Give me the shirt.” 

He looked at my outstretched hand and then his intense blues eyes locked on mine, causing my knees to wobble.  I swallowed, wishing I’d chosen a more fetching ensemble.  My hair was still damp, not a speck of makeup was on my face and I was wearing a set of red plaid flannel pajamas that had been a Christmas gift from my mother. 

Stone pulled his shirt off without further hesitation and handed it over.  I made a fuss when I carried the wet garment to the laundry closet so I could avoid staring at the half naked sex symbol that was standing in my living room. 

“I didn’t know you had a hamster,” he said. 

The dial on the dryer seemed to be stuck.  Or else my hands weren’t working properly.  “He’s not a hamster.  He’s a Himalayan guinea pig.” 

I cleaned out the lint trap and then snuck a peek at Stone.  I got an eyeful of muscles and skin.  This guy didn’t belong in my living room, crouching over Teddy’s sloppy enclosure.  He belonged in a damn museum for perfect men. 

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. 

I shut the dryer door and pushed the power button.  It hummed to life and started tumbling Stone’s shirt around.  I didn’t answer. 

“Evie?  I really am sorry about last night.” 

I set my palms on the smooth surface of the dryer and lowered my head, mumbling a question. 

“I didn’t hear you,” Stone said.  He’d left Teddy and moved closer but I didn’t look over at him. 

I balled my hands into fists so that my fingernails scraped my palms and I raised my voice.  “I asked you, ‘For what?’  Tell me exactly what you’re sorry for, Stone.  Are you sorry for touching me?”

“No.  I’ve wanted to touch you since the moment I saw you.  I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit it.”   

I lifted my head. “Then what
are
you sorry for?” 

He was close now, only a few feet away.  He was watching me so I watched him back. A few drops of rain still rolled down his body.  He hadn’t shaved this morning.

Stone closed his eyes for a second and exhaled thickly.  When he opened his eyes again they practically burned.  “Because you deserve better than some filthy fuck fest on the living room floor and I should have told you so.”

“So you decided to prove to me how much better I deserved by stuffing your dick back into your pants and running out of here like I was a fatal attraction.”

“Yes.” 

I wasn’t going to let him get off easy.  I stared him down for a full minute.  To Stone’s credit, he met my gaze and didn’t flinch. 

“Do you remember what I said to you last night?” I said. 

He swallowed.  “Every word.” 

“And?”

He sighed.  “And you were right.  You already know that.  You were right about everything.”  He started to say something else and then changed his mind, crossing his arms and looking out to the balcony as a gust of wind rocked the building. 

“Do you know how many girlfriends I’ve had?” he said softly. 

I shrugged.  “I don’t know.  Five?  Ten?  What difference does it make?  I understand that your time in prison prevented normal relationship evolution.” 

He frowned.  “None.  Not one, Evie.  I’m twenty-two and I’ve never had a girlfriend.”

“Oh.”  I was startled.  A bizarre thought occurred to me.  “You mean you never…um…”

Stone stopped frowning and busted out laughing.  He laughed long and hard before calming down and shaking his head.

“Hell no, I don’t mean that.  For god’s sake, I started fucking anything that moved when I was fourteen and kept a steady revolving door of conquests until the cuffs were slapped on.  There were girls I hung around with more than others but it never lasted.  Once I got tired of what they had to offer me I’d move on to something more exciting.  I didn’t keep girls around as friends.”  His face fell.  “The only one I ever thought of as a friend died in a mess of metal and glass one summer night.”

“You mean Erin.” 

The sound her name was painful for him.  I could see it. 

“Yeah,” he whispered.  “I mean Erin.  Other than her, the world was just divided into girls I wanted to fuck and girls I didn’t want to fuck.”

I winced over his vulgarity, trying to ignore the fact that it was actually turning me on.  “Why do you have to say it like that?  You’re not a teenager anymore.  Why does it all have to be fucking?”

He shrugged.  “Because that’s all it ever was.  And because I came here last night to fuck you.”  He raked his eyes over me and moved closer as his voice dropped to a sexy growl.  “Because I want to fuck you right now so bad I almost don’t care about anything else.  And don’t go thinking it would be all sweet and tender.  Honey, there’s a lot of shit going through my head and every bit of it involves the dozen and a half dirty ways I want to use your body.”  

All the words I’d ever known abandoned me.  No woman worth her self respect would be ready to swoon over such a crude speech.   Stone was telling me all he was willing to offer me was sex.  And I was considering taking him up on it. 

But then he sighed and the fire left his eyes.  He looked down at the floor like he was ashamed.  “I haven’t been with anyone in four years.  When I got out of lockup I swore I wouldn’t jump into a bunch of nasty hookups no matter how much I was tempted.  I didn’t want to be the careless asshole of a boy I was once.”

I started to go to him.  “You’re not!  You’re-“ 

He backed away before I had a chance to touch him, like I was either too fragile or too poisonous to get close to. 

“Evie,” he pleaded, “no one’s ever looked at me the way you do.  And I’ve never wanted to be with anyone in a way that wasn’t just dirty and temporary.”  He took a deep breath.  “Until now.” 

“Stone,” I whispered.

He kept his arms stiffly at his sides.  I could see the muscles in his upper arms bulge as he squeezed his hands into fists and explained.  “The way I feel about you, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to have you, to keep you, to protect you.  But I’ve got no right to do any of those things.”