I was stunned into silence. His proximity was fucking with my brain and I was afraid that at any second I was going to blurt out something that would dig me a deeper hole than I’d already dug for myself. I opened my mouth to answer, but I couldn’t get the words out. Not like I needed to. Preppy answered for me. “If I remember correctly, you like it dirty. Real fucking dirty.”
He took another step toward me. “Remember that first time? In the field? By the train tracks? Remember how I pulled your hair while I fucked you from behind and stretched you open? Remember how it felt to have me moving inside of you? How it felt when you came and screamed in my fucking ear? I do. I remember. Thought of that scream every fucking day since. It was deafening.” He chuckled and pressed his teeth against his bottom lip. He groaned, the sound shooting straight to my pussy. “I can still fucking hear it now.”
So can I.
The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. “What are you doing?” I asked, trying to step out from under him, but he moved his arms and pressed his hands against the wall, caging me in. The warmth of his chest radiated onto mine and I tried to look anywhere but into his eyes, afraid of what I might see but there wasn’t anywhere else to look. Especially when his face moved closer to mine.
He pressed his knee between my thighs, parting my legs. “Me?” he asked, with mock innocence. “I’m just reminiscing with an old friend.”
“This doesn’t feel like just reminiscing,” I panted.
He stared deeply into my eyes. “No, not YET it doesn’t.” He grinned. “But it fucking will. Soon.”
“I...I can’t,” I stammered. I pulled my face from his hand but he turned me back by my chin.
“Oh Doc, you remember how much I love it when you tell me no.” He lowered himself until his lips were a hair away from mine. My nipples peaked at the anticipation of feeling his lips against mine.
Maybe, just this once. I lied to myself. One more time just to remember how he felt when we...
A car door slammed in the driveway, throwing a bucket of cold water on the sizzling heat between us.
Preppy looked up and I jumped under his arm and away from him, again busying myself with folding towels. I cleared my throat and adjusted my shirt, trying to hide my hardened nipples underneath my thin tank top. “That would be the realtor,” I said, as casually as possible.
“Great,” Preppy said, blowing out a breath.
“And when he leaves we need to talk,” I said, trying not to sound affected by him.
“About what?” Preppy asked. The doorbell rang.
I adjusted my hair and right before I opened the door to let in the realtor and his clients I turned back to Preppy and swallowed hard.
“Our divorce.”
––––––––
DRE
We never did have a conversation about a divorce although we needed to have it at some point. Or maybe an annulment instead, but I was pretty sure if there were time restrictions on those type of things that we’d long surpassed it. We didn’t talk about what happened to him either.
Or much of anything else for that matter.
It had been a little over a week since Preppy moved in. He rarely came out of Mirna’s old room and I noticed when he did it was only at night. If he ever was up and about during the day the first thing he would do was shut the blinds and put his sunglasses on. I knew he was having trouble with light and I saw at the party what happened to him when the volume of life around him got too loud.
There were flashes of the old Preppy from time to time. A snide remark. Innuendo about my short skirts. The burning glare of desire in his sad eyes that made my knees weak and my heart want to burst inside my chest.
Several times a night he’d scream through his nightmares and when I tried to go in to help him I couldn’t. The door was always locked. I’d sit in the hallway with my back on the other side of the door and listen to him battle whatever demons he fought off in his dreams until the screams subsided.
When I couldn’t sleep I’d fire up my laptop and research conditions of people who’d gone through traumatic situations. Counseling and medication were the two recommendations although Preppy would NEVER agree to counseling and self medicating was more his thing.
I sighed and bookmarked the page, clicking over to the Logan’s Beach realty site to see if anything else had recently sold in the area and I was surprised that several homes in need of more repair and priced much higher had recently sold. I made a note to call East if there was something wrong with our listing, especially since the potential buyers the realtor showed the house to never came back with an offer and there hadn’t been a single interested buyer since then. Although part of me was relieved it hadn’t sold yet, part of me was frantic to make it happen. With the auction date approaching time was running out for my dad. I had to think of another creative way to either sell the house or make a substantial amount of money and FAST.
“Dad?” I asked when my phone rang. “Dad is everything okay? It’s late.”
“Everything’s fine here. I was just checking to make sure everything is okay there. Brandon told me what happened with that boy and I was concerned that...” He paused and I heard his guilt dripping into the phone.
“You wanted to know if I was using again.”
“Yes,” my dad answered honestly.
“No, dad. I’m not. I haven’t thought about it,” I said, and with that statement I was proud. “Although I had two glasses of wine with a friend the other night and guess what happened...” I said.
“What?”
“Absolutely nothing,” I whispered. “Except maybe a lot of laughter and me falling asleep before eight pm.”
My dad laughed softly. “I’m so proud of you, Andrea.”
I stood up and walked out into the backyard. The cool night air felt like heaven against my damp skin. After I slid the door shut I turned around and jumped back against the door, dropping my phone.
“Hello?” I heard my dad saying. I leaned down and picked up the phone. “Hey dad. Everything is fine, but I have to go. I’ll call you back in the morning.” I clicked the phone shut and slowly descended the steps. My eyes focused on Preppy who was sitting in the backyard under the light of the moon with his face tilted up toward the sky, moaning and rocking from side to side as if he were in pain.
Naked.
Very VERY naked.
The brutal red and white scars slashing through his once beautiful tattoos made me want to run my hands over them as if I could heal him. I wanted to weep for him and kill the fucker who did this to him.
I stepped around him and crouched down so we were at eye level. His eyes shot open. His bloodshot and unfocused gaze met mine.
“Help me.”
****
“How do you want me to help you?” I whispered. I didn’t know what kind of episode he was having. Fuck, I didn’t even know if he was awake so I didn’t want to scare him by talking too loud.