Lost to You (Take This Regret 0.5)

chapter Three

Christian





From her doorway, Elizabeth watched me walking down her hallway. I kept glancing behind me, making sure she was still there. The way she had her head cocked, her blonde hair fell in sheets of gentle waves over one shoulder, and that same smile that had torn me up the entire night whispered at the edges of her mouth.

All I wanted to do was turn around and bury my hands in those waves, to tilt her head up and press my lips to hers. She’d taste sweet. I’d put money on it. She’d have to rise to her toes to meet me, and I could almost feel the way the length of her body would mold against mine as she struggled to get closer.

The need was strong, and I knew I had to get away from her and put some distance between us.

I paused before I rounded the corner. Something inside me clenched with the thought of leaving her there. I just stared at her, having no idea how I felt or what I wanted to say. Finally I said, “Lock up behind me, okay, Elizabeth?”

Confusion fluttered across her face, and then she smiled with a little wave of her hand. “Of course. Good night, Christian.”

I nodded once in her direction and turned the corner, and Elizabeth disappeared behind me. I flew down the stairwell and out into the heavy night air. It was still hot, the skin at the nape of my neck beading with sweat that I wasn’t positive had anything to do with the humidity hanging in the air.

I just didn’t understand this, had no idea what I was feeling. I didn’t know if I should embrace it or run from it.

On Monday at the café, I couldn’t help but think Elizabeth was the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. I’d flirted, messed with her, coaxed the shyness from her because it was just so freaking cute. I knew I wanted something more than I normally did from a girl, that I wanted to know her and see that smile light her face.

But tonight—tonight was entirely different. Tonight she had made me feel different.

I mean, yeah, I wanted her. Badly. I’d had a really hard time keeping the images at bay, ones of wrapping my hands around her thighs and tugging her away from the wall. I could almost hear her book hitting the floor when I shoved it aside and pressed her body into the bed with mine.

It’s what came naturally, what I would normally do, the instinct I had to reach out and take what I wanted.

She’d voiced it, made it clear we weren’t crossing that line, but I didn’t miss the way she reacted to me. Part of her wanted me, too.

But there was something that hung in that room that held me back, something in the softness of her eyes and in the sweetness of her voice.

Elizabeth had to be the most transparent, good girl I’d ever met in my life.

I couldn’t—wouldn’t—take advantage of that. It made me sick to think of tainting her. Knowing me, I’d take what I wanted, get bored, and push her aside. I wouldn’t mean to, but I’d hurt her, and I couldn’t stand the thought.

She asked me to be her friend, and I wasn’t going to f*ck that up by giving into the overwhelming urge I had to touch her.

I could deal with it.

Elizabeth could see through all my bullshit, anyway. A sarcastic huff escaped my mouth. I was sorely underestimating Elizabeth. The girl could probably see straight into my soul.

Chances were, she wouldn’t let me touch her if I tried.

With a mumbled groan, I rubbed the tension from my face and dug my cell from my front pocket. Tom was on speed dial, and he answered on the second ring.

“Hey, man, what’s up?” Tom yelled over the deafening background noise. Music thrummed above the roar of indistinct voices. It sounded like the perfect escape.

“Just wondering what’s happening tonight.”

“We’re all at Sam’s. You headin’ over?”

“Count me in. I’ll be there in twenty.”

Elizabeth only lived about a ten-minute walk from my apartment. Those minutes were spent defining what Elizabeth and I were.

I’d never had that in my life, someone who I truly felt comfortable with. Someone who made me feel exposed, and somehow I was still okay with that fact. Someone to share my secrets and my desires and the goals I had in my life with—the ones people saw weren’t always mine, but ambitions created by my parents and the society they expected me to fit into.

The crazy thing was, I wanted to know hers, too. Elizabeth Ayers had to be the coolest girl who’d ever walked this world. I wanted to see inside her the way she saw inside me, to listen when she talked about her mom and her sisters, to experience a life like that through her eyes—to see life the way Elizabeth saw it.

She was...refreshing.

At my building, I took the stairs two at a time and let myself into my apartment. Dropping my backpack to the floor, I shed my button-up for a fitted black tee. In the bathroom, I wet my hands under warm water, splashed some on my face, and ran two hands through my hair to tame it. I straightened and caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. A grin clung to my face, something I doubted I could dispel if I tried. I realized I felt good. Really good.

Grabbing my keys, I headed out the door and jogged the two blocks to Sam’s place. I could hear the music pulsing as soon as I landed on his floor.

With a single knock against the door, I let myself in. Bodies were cramped nearly wall to wall. It definitely wasn’t the smallest apartment I’d been in since I’d gotten to New York, there were just a lot of people. Some huddled in groups where they conversed along the walls. Others pressed and throbbed against each other as they moved in rhythm to the music on the makeshift dance floor in the middle of the room. More were piled on the two couches or sat on the floor.

“You made it!” Tom yelled, a red cup lifted above his head as he shouldered through the crowd and cut a path to meet me. He reached out to welcome me with a fist bump.

I met him when I first got into town. He was from here, had some connections and knew the area. He was cool, a decent guy, my passport to Friday night. He was the one who always knew where it was happening and where I wanted to be. Sam’s was often it.

“Glad to be here.”

Tom placed a hand on my shoulder and began to lead me back through the crowd.

“Christian, good to see you finally showed up.” Jon gestured with his chin, clapped me on the back as I passed. “Where’ve you been all night?”

I lifted both hands with a shrug, could feel the smirk splitting my face. “Studying.”

“Ah...sure you were.” He laughed and went back to his beer and the girl hanging on his arm.

There were quite a few people I recognized, these Friday nights becoming my regular, the same faces, the same welcome. I shook hands with a couple guys and hugged a few girls as Tom continued to shout in my ear about who was here and what had been happening.

“Christian, my man.” Sam smiled as I approached. He slung his arm around my shoulders and maneuvered us around a group of people I’d never seen before. At the kitchen entrance, he stopped and waved inside. “There’s a keg and lots of ladies. Make yourself at home.”

“Sure thing.” I always did.

I grabbed a red cup, filled it until foam overflowed at the sides, and downed it in one breath. The beer was a little too warm as it glided down my throat, but it wasn’t enough to keep me from refilling my cup.

I chatted with a couple people in the kitchen, drank a couple more beers, and refilled my cup again before I wove back out into the main room.

Music pumped through the room, amplified the slight buzz I felt coming on as I sat down on the floor with my back propped up on the couch, my knees drawn up with my feet flat on the ground. This was the way I spent my Friday nights. One night a week, I allowed myself to forget it all, all the pressures my parents piled on me, the push to be the best, the drive to always work harder. For these few hours, I didn’t allow the words my father had drilled into me my entire life affect me. I just...forgot. Joked around with a few of the guys I’d kind of gotten to know. If I hooked up with some girl, that was always cool, too.

I snorted at myself. Really, that was the goal. Hang out with the guys, go home with someone with the intention of just feeling good for a few hours.

Sam and Tom stood on the other side of the coffee table, provoking each other, little jabs and shoves, the two so blitzed out neither could stand up straight. I knew what was coming. The two couldn’t seem to keep from making fools of themselves. I was always glad I remained on this side of the show, there to make fun of them for the stupid things they did. I wondered how many brain cells I lost every weekend just being in their presence.

The sad thing was, I actually enjoyed it, especially when I’d gotten a few beers in my system and I was feeling as loose as I was right then. A slight numbness weighted my arms and legs, and a dull thrum hummed in my ears.

“I think shots are in order,” Sam announced. He disappeared into the kitchen and re-emerged a minute later with a bottle of tequila and plastic shot glasses.

“Who’s up for a friendly wager? Last one standing gets the pot,” Sam said, offering up a challenge. Every weekend, it was the same. Tom and a couple other guys each tossed down twenties. As always, I passed, though I partook in the pouring and slammed three shots myself.

The room spun a little, and I scrubbed both palms over my face and tried to focus. There was movement at my side, and I looked to the spot where the toe of a heeled boot tapped my thigh. My gaze traveled up the long body. Lisa stood there, her full lips pulled into a flirty smile, her tanned legs exposed below the mini skirt she wore. “Mind if I join you?”

I grinned.

This. This was what I needed. Something to undo the knot Elizabeth had tied so tight inside me. The alcohol barely disguised it, distorted an ache I didn’t entirely understand. All I knew was I had to satisfy it.

I inched over to make Lisa room. “Not at all.”

I’d hung out with her before, had actually had real conversations with her a time or two. She was nice enough, maybe a little out of place here, like she was testing herself, learning who she wanted to be. She’d been the one who’d come after me the first time, not that I minded. She seemed pretty laid back, easy in every sense of the word. We got along just fine.

My blurred gaze fixated on her thighs as she awkwardly climbed down to settle beside me. She twisted her torso, just enough that when I looked her direction, we were face to face, nose to nose. I realized how hot I was right then, how my skin tingled and need coiled in the pit of my stomach.

Fingers traveled up my shirt, fluttered across my chin, her mouth a breath from mine. “I was hoping you’d be here.”

“You were, huh?” Cocking my head, I looked into the brown eyes staring back at me. They were completely the wrong kind of brown, dark chocolate and rimmed in black. Not light and tinged with honey, not knowing and kind. I blinked the thought away. “I was hoping you were going to be here, too,” I mumbled at the side of her face, my nose brushing the length of her jaw.

Of course, she hadn’t really crossed my mind since the last time I left her apartment more than four weeks ago.

She ran her fingers through my hair, kissed across my face, murmured at my ear, “I missed—”

I didn’t give her time to finish, just covered her mouth with mine to cut off whatever words she was going to say that would ruin the understanding we had. I kissed her for what felt like forever, my senses filled with the sting of heavy perfume and a thickness that had my pulse beating erratically. I fought whatever I was feeling, this sensation that urged me to push her away. Instead, I kissed her deeper, swept my tongue against hers, and dipped my hands into her brown hair.

With a short gasp, she broke the kiss. “Wanna go back to my place?” she asked with her body pressed up against mine. Loud music pulsed against our skin, driving the need higher inside of me, something foreign and unpleasant.

“Yeah, let’s get out of here.”

That’s all I wanted, to get out of there, to remove myself from what was gnawing under the surface of my skin.

I climbed to my feet and stretched my hand out to help her stand. With her hand in mine, I dragged her through the mass.

Tom stood near the door, talking too loud and too close to some poor girl’s face. He glanced up as I approached, a knowing smirk overtaking his mouth. “See you next weekend, man.”

I didn’t reply, just raised my hand over my head to announce my goodbye, and got Lisa out of there as fast as humanly possible. The second we were in the hall, her mouth was on my chin and moving over my jaw. Her hand smoothed its way over my chest, up my neck, and into my hair. My hands dove back into her hair, and I was kissing her and stumbling back as we made our way down the hall.

Seconds later, she had me in the elevator. The low bleep of the button indicated we’d made it to the seventh floor. I backed down her hall, my hands on her hips as I edged us toward her apartment. My back hit her door with a thud.

“Christian,” she mumbled.

Pinned against the wood, it burned into my skin, hard and cold. I sensed too much, the numbness I craved every weekend absent, my hands and mind frantic as I tore at Lisa to get her closer.

But it was Elizabeth’s face in my head. Her soft skin under my hands. My fingers digging into her hips.

I jerked my face back from Lisa, raised it to the ceiling, and sucked in a breath as I forced the image aside.

Lisa’s mouth went to my exposed neck as she blindly fumbled through her purse. Metal clinked as she withdrew her keys. She reached around me to wiggle one into the lock and let us into her dark apartment.

I already knew the way to her room. I had been there several times.

I palmed Lisa’s slender hips, and flattened my body against hers. And Elizabeth was still there, her hips curvier, her round ass fitting perfectly in my hands.

I groaned, and Lisa giggled.

F*ck.

My hands snaked under her shirt, my palms gliding up her sides as I pushed it over her head.

Oh God.

My mouth came down aggressive against Lisa’s as I palmed her breast in my hand, anything to fill up and shut out whatever was resisting this from happening tonight.

Lisa ripped my shirt over my head, went for the buttons on my jeans while I kicked off my shoes. Her skirt was on the floor and I was pushing her to her bed. I climbed between her legs.

And all I saw was Elizabeth, could do nothing but imagine what she’d look like lying there instead, how soft she would feel. How this would feel different.

I could never have Elizabeth, but still, I knew I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t f*ck some girl while I pictured Elizabeth’s face. It was wrong—disrespectful to Lisa—but what I really cared about was the overwhelming feeling that it was even more disrespectful to Elizabeth.

Unwelcomed hands were at my waistband, pushing down my underwear. I struggled back, got to my knees, and pinned her arms at her sides.

For a moment, confusion filled Lisa’s eyes, before a slow, sexy grin took her over, misunderstanding seeded in the manipulated compliance.

I dropped my head, a heavy, regretful breath forced from my lungs. “I can’t do this, Lisa.”

The confusion was back, a mix of hurt and anger and embarrassment.

“What did I do? I don’t understand.” I released her arms, and she reached for me, her fingertips just grazing across my bare chest as her eyes and mouth implored, “Please.”

I understood it then, saw it, all the times I’d done this and then walked out the door, left some girl alone, many times when I didn’t even know her name. Was I really blind enough to believe that they were just like me, that one night was all they ever wanted, that they never gave me a second thought once I was gone? Because when I looked down at the blow I’d just inflicted on Lisa, I knew that was not the case. She’d thought of me, wanted me.

“I’m sorry, Lisa.” Scooting off her bed, I fumbled to get back into my jeans. I grabbed my shirt from the floor and tugged it over my head. “I can’t do this anymore.”

She looked away, to the wall, and covered her breasts with the drape of her arm. “You’re an a*shole.” That statement came so quiet, yet its truth consumed the room.

“I know.” I guess it was something I’d always known. It was just the first time I’d admitted it.

I left her there, took the stairs because I needed to burn off some of this unspent energy.

Elizabeth had gotten under my skin. Exposed who I really was just by reflecting her light onto me.

She didn’t have to voice it. It was spoken in the way she resisted me the first day, in the assumptions she made that weren’t really assumptions at all because they were nothing but the truth. It was clear in the way her eyes clouded with a token of distrust, a barrier she had to place between us to protect herself from me.

Because Elizabeth knew she could just as easily be like Lisa, left alone upstairs, instead of my friend who I couldn’t wait to see again.

I ran back to my apartment and let myself into the darkness. I went straight into the bathroom and blasted the showerhead, turning it as hot as it would go. I shucked my clothes. Steam filled the room, and I stepped into the water and welcomed its relief. Hot sheets blanketed my back, and I raised my head, let the waves flow down my face, let it wash the night from my body.

Stepping from the shower, I toweled myself off, slipped into a pair of boxers, and fell back against my bed. I lay, staring at the ceiling, not knowing what the hell I was supposed to do. I was completely mixed up, but in some strange way, I felt okay with it.

Shaking my head at myself, I grabbed my phone. It was just before one in the morning, earlier than I normally would come crawling back to my apartment, but late enough that Elizabeth would probably think I was complete freak if I gave in and called her just to check that she’d had a good night.

Instead I tapped out a message and pushed send.

I was shocked when my phone buzzed a few seconds later. I couldn’t help but smile when I read the words. Sleep well, Christian.





~





Elizabeth

A tiny sigh escaped my lips as I clutched my phone to my chest. Darkness crawled along my ceiling, all except for a thin strip of light that slanted off to one side as it snuck through the top edge of the blind.

It turned out I was right about Christian.

There was no doubt the first impressions were true, too, the ones about the girls and how quickly he flew through them. I knew if I wasn’t careful, I could so easily end up one of them.

But beyond that, he was kind.

And he needed a friend.

I reread the text I received a few minutes earlier.

Wanted to tell you how much tonight meant to me. TY Elizabeth.

It was late, though the city was still alive, horns and sirens echoing outside my door, magnifying how intensely quiet it was within the walls of my apartment.

And I felt warm. Good. Thankful.

Thankful Christian had become a part of my life.