Come to Me Quietly

EIGHTEEN

 

 

Aleena

 

 

 

Jared had made love to me. Completed me.

 

We lay on our sides, face-to-face, his warm hand cradling the side of my face. “You beautiful girl,” he murmured, kissing me softly.

 

Emotion swamped me, filled my heart, and expanded my chest.

 

“Are you okay?” Jared tilted his head back to read my eyes.

 

I blinked and whispered, “Yes,” because it was the truth. I was perfect, so long as he stayed.

 

It was a Friday night, and I stood in front of the TV in the living room, playing DanceStar. Laughter bubbled up from my gut. Music blared from the speakers set up around the TV. I was in front of it, wondering why I couldn’t get my feet to keep up with my brain as I watched the character dancing on the TV and tried to mirror his steps. I held the controller in my left hand. The glowing sensor bulb at the top seemed like the perfect stand-in mic. Without remorse, I screamed Billy Idol’s “Dancing with Myself” into the prop.

 

I couldn’t hold a tune. Not to save my life.

 

But tonight, I just didn’t care.

 

Megan jumped around beside me. Blond hair whipped dangerously close to my face as she swung her head around, completely offbeat.

 

Christopher sat directly behind her on the couch, and she bounced back to shake her butt in his face. “It’s your duty to shake your booty,” she sang over my fruitless attempt to win points by keeping in tune with the song, her tiny frame wiggling all over.

 

Yeah. She and Christopher had been doing shots of tequila in the kitchen.

 

Christopher covered his face with his hands, laughing so hard he fell to his side on the couch. “Holy hell, you two suck so bad.”

 

 

 

I stuck my tongue out at him, then turned and belted the song even louder near Megan’s face, held the mic between us so she could sing along. Giving up on the choreographed moves, the two of us busted out in some impromptu dance, uninhibited and free.

 

Laughter overtook the words I tried to sing. I’d really never known joy like this. I’d always been happy, but I’d never known the intense satisfaction that came with being loved. It was something that seeped down into the marrow of my bones and pervaded every fiber of my being.

 

Not once had he told me, but I knew he did. I felt it, even when it clearly was something impossible for Jared to see. Something he didn’t recognize himself. But I took him for what he was, this beautifully broken boy who deserved every touch I gave while I treasured every single one he returned.

 

On what had become his side of the couch, he sat nursing a beer, his legs casually stretched out in front of him. Playful blue eyes glinted their amusement as he watched us dance in the middle of the living room.

 

Almost a month had passed since the first time he made love to me. Every day since had been an exploration of hands and tongues and bodies that couldn’t get enough.

 

The first time had been overwhelming. Painful. Both physically and emotionally. It was as if something had shifted inside me. Captured me. Changed me.

 

Emotionally, it still remained the same, this intensity that swept through me like wildfire, though now I’d come to crave that feeling.

 

But physically… I’d just never understood that anything could feel so good.

 

Shimmying up to him, I shook my shoulders and lowered myself to get level with his face. He laughed softly as he turned his head to the side. Clearly, he was too embarrassed to continue watching me make a fool of myself. His hand came up to rub at his chin when he lifted his perfect face back to me, accosting me with this coy grin that made my stomach flip. Something about it was so incredibly sexy I was about five seconds from revealing us to Christopher.

 

I hated hiding us.

 

All I wanted to do was take him by the face and kiss him.

 

Instead I settled for taking him by the hand. “Come dance with me,” I shouted over the TV that was turned up much too loud.

 

Redness colored his face, and that smile tipped up on one side. He shook his head. “Not a chance in hell, Aly. I don’t dance.”

 

 

 

I tugged a little. “Please.”

 

 

 

“Ever,” he added, the word emphatic, though his clear eyes still shone.

 

“What, you expect me and Megan to stand up here and entertain you two all night? Come on. Please,” I almost whined, yanking at his arm. I guess I’d probably had too much to drink, too. “Please.” This time I squeezed.

 

He just sat there shaking his head in disbelief, but then he seemed to be shaking his head at himself because he couldn’t believe he was giving in. “Fine.”

 

 

 

Pulling him to his feet, I flashed a victorious smile. With his beer secured in one hand, he loosely threaded his fingers with mine in the other.

 

I danced around him. Twisting, laughing, singing. That grin was back on his gorgeous face, and he lifted his hand over my head and led me into a twirl. Unrestrained, Jared laughed and spun me some more.

 

That intense joy wrapped me tight.

 

He was happy. I could see it. Feel it. God, I wanted it so badly for him, for this man I cared so deeply for to have a chance to heal. I smiled up at him, couldn’t contain what I felt from bursting from my face.

 

Wiggling in between us, Megan nudged me aside and stole my spot. Jared took a turn twirling her around. She bumped him once with her hip, then dropped his hand and danced toward me.

 

She knew what was going on between us. A couple of weeks ago, I’d finally confided in her that I slept with him, admitting he came stealing into my room every night. It wasn’t as if she was all that surprised. She said after seeing the two of us together on the Fourth, she didn’t know how it hadn’t happened sooner.

 

Even though she was drunk, she remained aware, her eyes slanting to me before they quickly shifted to Christopher and back to me.

 

A warning.

 

I was being obvious.

 

Tonight I didn’t know how to care. How could what Jared and I had be wrong?

 

Still I backed off and turned to take Christopher by the hand, my crazy brother who’d had so much to drink he could barely stand. He didn’t come quite so reluctantly as Jared had. As if Christopher wouldn’t jump at the chance to join in.

 

Jared wormed his way back to the couch, content to be the spectator to our silliness. The rest of us danced and sang and drank until the night grew deep.

 

Christopher finally called it quits and staggered back to his room.

 

I whispered a reluctant “Good night” to Jared before I retreated to my bedroom with Megan. Tonight would be the first night I’d spend without him in so long, but I’d missed my friend. Megan and I used to do this all the time, her hanging out here, staying all night. Christopher had earned a good smack to the back of the head the first time he’d teased us about sleeping together.

 

She joined me in my room and curled up on her side of the bed with her back pressed to the wall, her cheek resting on her hands.

 

Sinking onto my side, I smiled at her as I tucked my pillow under my head. “I’m glad you came over tonight. This was a lot of fun.”

 

 

 

“Yeah, it really was.” She bit at her lip. Knowing eyes darted to the door, her voice soft. “You love him, Aly?”

 

 

 

I looked at my best friend, unsure why I’d kept this secret for so long. Unsure why I still did.

 

“So much,” I whispered. I knew it sounded as if it hurt because, really, it did.

 

She blinked as if trying to work it out. “You’re different with him.”

 

 

 

I glanced away, then back at her. “Is that good or bad?”

 

 

 

She cringed a little, as if she might not want to answer. “Both, I think. Maybe it’s just that I’ve seen you shut off for so long it’s weird to see you like this. I guess it worries me some.” Her eyes were wide and honest. “I just want you to be happy, that’s all.”

 

 

 

“I am happy.”

 

 

 

She nodded, though worry creased her face. We both fell into silence, lost in thought.

 

Sleep was quick to overtake her. In no time, her soft snore filled my room.

 

I stared at the darkened ceiling and tried to find sleep of my own. I should have known my efforts would be fruitless.

 

Finally I climbed to my feet and tiptoed out into main room. It was pitch-black, the heavy curtains drawn. My eyes adjusted, and I shuffled to the place I knew he would be.

 

Heavy, burdened breaths filled the room, this anxiety winding through him where he lay just on the cusp of sleep. I knew it because I found him there every night, shaking, twitching, silent in his pain.

 

I just wanted to take it away.

 

Slowly, I climbed onto the couch, straddling him at his waist. He jerked up as if in shock, the strong planes of his stomach stretched taut as he lifted his head. Rough hands dug into my hips.

 

“What are you doing out here?” His voice was all gravelly.

 

“I missed you,” I said.

 

I felt his palm come to my face. His fingers traveled up to comb through my hair. “You shouldn’t be out here like this, Aly.”

 

 

 

I leaned down, pressing my hands to the cushions on both sides of his face. “I’m not ashamed of us, Jared,” I whispered urgently toward the shadows that blackened his face.

 

His hand tightened into a fist in my hair. “You should be.”

 

 

 

Steam filled the bathroom the next day as I took my shower. Sheets of hot water pounded on my shoulders before they cascaded down my back. Rivulets gathered as thin lines that snaked along my legs before they crawled to the shower floor. I lathered my body wash on my loofah and scrubbed it over my skin, breathing in the freshness as the hot water slowly cleared my head.

 

Megan had left half an hour before.

 

We’d all slept in, Megan and me stumbling from bed at close to noon. Jared had still been asleep on the couch, his hair sticking up in every direction when he’d lifted his head to throw a frustrated squint at us when we emerged from my room. His pained expression didn’t come close to the one I was sure Megan would be sporting all day. She’d woken with a drawn-out groan, ramming her fists in her eyes to block out the light.

 

I’d asked her what she expected when she’d consumed half her weight in tequila the night before.

 

Rinsing the soap from my body, I turned off the shower and blindly fumbled outside the curtain for my towel. I pressed it to my face where it absorbed my contented sigh.

 

There were few things that felt better than a hot shower.

 

Redness rushed to the surface of my skin because echoes of Jared’s touch suddenly flooded my mind. Sometimes I didn’t know what do with the thoughts I had about him, the way he made me feel or the things he made me want.

 

After I dried off, I lathered lotion on my legs and dressed in shorts and a T-shirt. I wiped the fog from the mirror and slowly pulled a brush through my hair. Today was the first Saturday I didn’t have to work in a long time, and I was just looking forward to spending the day with Jared, in whatever capacity that might be.

 

Someone tapped at the door, and then I heard Christopher. “Hey, Aly, I’m going to run to the grocery store really quick. Do you need anything?”

 

 

 

“Um… more orange juice. I just drank the last of it,” I hollered back.

 

“Okay, sure.” Then he was gone.

 

Thirty seconds later, there were two low thuds at the door, the two seconds separating them like a silent plea. That was all it took for my heart to speed. I fumbled with the lock and pulled it open. Jared stood on the other side of the doorway, waiting for me.

 

He’d seemed irritable this morning, and I thought it was because he had a hangover of his own. But now he seemed edgy. Intently he dragged his gaze down my length, his movements pulsing with uncontained intensity. Hungry. Possessive.

 

“I didn’t think he’d ever leave.”

 

 

 

There was something about his tone that made my stomach lurch and sent my nerves careening. I shook in impatient apprehension as he crossed the threshold and locked the door behind him.

 

“I’ve been dying to get you alone all morning,” he said, his voice deep as he swallowed hard. “I need you, Aly, I need you so f*cking bad.”

 

 

 

Butterflies swarmed.

 

That powerful body flattened against mine, one strong hand taking me firmly by the back of the head, the other kneading at my thigh, then splaying over my ass as he pulled me roughly against him.

 

His mouth owned mine.

 

Decided and fierce.

 

Weak-kneed, I emitted a stuttered breath.

 

Jared pulled back, those blue eyes burning, fire and ice.

 

His hands encircled my waist. Lifting me up, he propped my bottom on the edge of the bathroom counter, groaning when he ground his body into mine.

 

I writhed, unable to control what he did to me.

 

His throat bobbed heavily, and he pulled off my shirt. In the same motion, he took one step back, grabbing the neck of his own shirt and ripping it off over his head. Strength rippled under the colors that bled, that rose at the center of his chest like this beacon that called me home.

 

I desperately gripped at the lip of the counter, my stomach flexed as I struggled to balance my weight, to balance my senses that Jared had thrown into overdrive. He brazenly looked me over. Tingles spread in a slow blaze and redness bloomed.

 

“You make me crazy,” he whispered hoarsely as he inched forward, ridding me of my bra before his fingers came out to work the button free on my shorts. Wetting his lips, he tugged them down and slowly dragged them off my legs. He skimmed his hands back up the inside of my thighs.

 

“I love your legs, Aly. I could spend my entire life wrapped in them.”

 

 

 

And I wanted him to, to spend his life with me, for him to live one he thought himself unworthy of. I wondered if he even realized what he’d said, that his heart spoke of forever just as his mind so clearly promised him this would pass. That this would end.

 

My spirit thrashed, unsure of which he would hang on to.

 

I stared up at him, couldn’t look away as his eyes flashed in the vanity lights. His beauty was so strong, his body perfection despite every inner flaw.

 

Those butterflies flitted and spun, tumbled around in the lowest part of my core.

 

He twisted his fingers in my panties, and he shed them slowly. My pulse stuttered, my body aching, begging. Once again, it’d taken Jared two seconds to strip me of every ounce of control.

 

“Please,” I whimpered.

 

Jared growled. His face contorted, and hot, aggressive hands grasped my knees, forcing them apart. Then his mouth was on me.

 

Sensations burst behind my eyes. Desperately, my fingers dove in his hair, curled and held and gripped. Every inch of my body moaned. And I thought maybe I should be embarrassed, that I should try to contain the muffled cries that spilled from my mouth. But there was no place in me where I could find shame.

 

Not with him.

 

Again I begged, “Please.”

 

 

 

Then he was touching me, sure fingers filling me in the most exquisite way.

 

I arched. Came undone. Pleasure surged and rushed, spread out to saturate every crevice in my body. Still it was not enough. It was never enough.

 

I fumbled between us for the fly of his jeans. I freed him of all his barriers, shoving them down his hips. Jared twisted out of them and kicked them aside.

 

He completed me in one solid thrust.

 

My mouth dropped open in a soundless gasp, and my nails raked down his back. His hands rushed up the back of my thighs, and he wrapped them under to grip me by the hips, my knees hooked over his forearms.

 

“Beautiful,” he grated from his throat. He took me hard and fast, then torturously slow, never looking away from my face as he tempted and teased, then brought me back to the brink. Our bodies pitched and strained, grasped and clutched.

 

“Jared, please… don’t… just… ”

 

 

 

He understood my plea. He quickened as he filled me again and again. “Aly, baby,” he grunted.

 

It hit me in a shocking wave, this blinding rapture that ripped through my core and erupted as an aching cry from my lips.

 

“F*ck… Aly… ” Ice blue eyes sparked like wildfire when he crushed his chest to mine, his hands leaving my hips to grip the counter. Jared’s movements were harsh and rushed, his body jerking, his breaths short and ragged.

 

I bowed as he came.

 

In the mirror on the wall behind him, I saw him as he struggled to catch his breath. His back flexed beneath the scars that wept where they bled, a pattern of despair, and I knew he could see me in the vanity mirror behind us. Through the two, our eyes met, almost hesitantly, the reflection like this illusion of us that went on forever.

 

Infinite.

 

Something like torment filled his eyes. He buried his nose in my hair behind my ear and whispered his praise. “Aleena.”

 

 

 

And I loved him.

 

I loved him with everything I had.

 

We stayed that way for the longest time, neither able to move, our bodies locked. My fingertips strayed, traced, and explored. They gentled over the flames on his right arm. Here, under the color, the skin was too smooth, but on the edges it gave rise to rough ridges that felt like hardened seams.

 

Jared sucked in a jagged breath, then released it in a slow hiss as I trailed down to the tortured eyes that writhed in the fire. I caressed them, my voice soft. “Is this you or her?” It was as if I could sense every nerve in his body fire, his brain only registering pain.

 

“Me, Aly. It’s me.” That pain bled from his mouth in bitter agony. “It should have been me.” His fingers dug into my sides. “I f*cking tried to make it right. I tried.” The last fell as a breath of defeat.

 

I wanted to shake him, scream no, tell him how wrong he was.

 

I wanted to tell him.

 

He took my face in his hands and kissed me, his eyes squeezed tight. When he opened them, he acted as if what had just passed between us hadn’t happened. “You need to get dressed. Christopher is going to be back soon.” He leaned down and gathered up my clothes, handing them to me with a forced smile. “I’m going to take a quick shower.”

 

 

 

I nodded, swallowing down the emotion that constricted my throat. “Okay.”

 

 

 

He turned away and I watched as he climbed into the shower, this beautiful man who broke my heart and made it whole.

 

I quickly re-dressed. Vacillating, I paused, looking back to where he stood veiled behind the shower curtain. There were so many things I needed to say, but I had no idea how to get them out. I didn’t know if they would hurt him or heal him, if he’d run or if he’d stay.

 

I let myself out into the apartment, combing through my damp, tangled hair with my fingers. I barely had time to fill a glass with water before Christopher was unlocking the front door.

 

God. What was I doing? Keeping this from my brother? From my family? Keeping what I really wanted from myself? But how could I have him any other way?

 

“Hey,” Christopher said as he kicked open the door.

 

“Do you need some help?” I asked, setting my glass down on the counter and coming around to where he’d dropped the bags at the front door.

 

“Yeah, that’d be cool. Thanks.”

 

 

 

Leaning down, I gathered a few sacks and stood back up.

 

Then froze.

 

Blood drained from my face and flooded through my chest to squeeze my heart. It swept through me whole, leaving me weak in the knees. My attention locked on the two people mounting the stairs.

 

“Oh, good, you’re both here.” Mom was all smiles when she hit the landing. Augustyn trailed her two steps behind.

 

Tension twitched Christopher’s shoulders when he registered her voice, a subtle tic of his muscles as his eyes shot to my face. His panic was just as thick as mine.

 

Christopher rapidly blinked, then slowly stood up and turned around. “Mom, Aug, hey, what are you doing here?”

 

 

 

“We were running some errands nearby and thought we’d see if we could catch you two. Thought maybe we could go grab some lunch together or something.” Mom didn’t hesitate to take Christopher into a huge hug. “I’ve missed you.” She rocked them a little as she squeezed, then stepped back to hug me.

 

Aug and Christopher shook hands and clapped each other on the back. “Hey, man,” Christopher said, “how’s practice going?”

 

 

 

“Good… really good. Can’t wait for the season to actually start next week.”

 

 

 

Christopher kept glancing at me while he talked, as if asking for help, stalling. I could see him plead with his eyes. What do we do?

 

It was our dad Christopher had wanted to keep this from, the news that Jared was back and staying with us. But I wasn’t sure how Mom would react, either.

 

Part of me knew she needed to know. I just wasn’t sure this was the right way for her to find out. I’d imagined Christopher taking her aside, letting her know Jared was staying with us, that she’d ask questions and want to see him and she’d slowly ease Dad into the idea of him being back in town… into the idea of him being back in our lives. None of us had spoken about him in so many years I had no idea where my mother’s thoughts lie or the way she felt.

 

It was wrong. We had betrayed him in the silence of our words.

 

But our mom was kind. I knew that, and now I had to trust that she would understand.

 

Christopher scratched at the back of his neck and inclined his head. “Listen, Mom, I need to talk to you about something.”

 

 

 

Clearly, Christopher understood that, too.

 

The second he said “I,” I realized my brother was going to take responsibility for this, as if he thought he had somehow coerced me into allowing Jared to stay with us. Christopher still thought I was the unwilling partner in this deception, when in truth, he was the one who had unknowingly allowed Jared to become the most important person in my life.

 

Mom frowned. “What’s wrong?” Worried, she flicked her eyes to me, then back to Christopher. Nervous energy instantly wound her tight. She shifted on her feet.

 

The shower squealed as it was shut off.

 

Mom paused. She turned her attention inside, her eyebrows drawn tight as she looked down the hall of our apartment toward the bathroom.

 

Someone using our shower in itself wasn’t really such a big deal. But it was like this awareness seeped over her and she suddenly sensed the unease that radiated out from Christopher and me.

 

“Who’s here?” she asked, stepping into our apartment.

 

“Mom – ”

 

 

 

Jared opened the door and came out into the hall wearing only a pair of jeans, rubbing a towel over his wet head, oblivious of what he was stepping into.

 

The second his eyes met with Mom’s, he stopped dead.

 

Mom just stood there, as if lost, thrown back in time. Then a strangled sob tore from her throat and her hands flew up to cover her mouth. “Jared. Oh my God, Jared, is that you?”

 

 

 

Tears leaked down her face. It took a few seconds to pass before she seemed to snap back. Then she shot across the room, throwing her arms around him, hugging him, while he remained limp under her touch. She pulled back, frantic, as she searched his face, her hands pressing into his cheeks as if she were making sure he was really there. “It’s you… oh my God… it’s you. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

 

 

 

And Mom was crying, holding on to him as if he might disappear.

 

From across the room, I caught the expression on his face.

 

And I was sure he would.

 

 

 

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