Hello All! This is my first story, just a little short I came up with. Please read and review.
Based on Edward and Bella. Or at least my take on them. I don't own squat aside from the make believe in my head.
I grew up in a small southern town. A blonde headed, knobby kneed redneck tomboy. Skinny and short, raised by a single daddy and still learning how to be a girl, even at the age of 20. Most days I succeeded as mainly being awkward. My little island town located on the Gulf of Mexico is a hotbed for gossip, bourbon and Jesus. You'd better good with at least one of the three or find yourself the subject of it all. I adore this place, touched by the hand of god it's as beautiful out here as it gets and I wouldn't trade it for a thing. Still, the gossip and demanding expectations of being the only daughter of one of the town's prominent businessmen…well, it can be daunting. I've always been taught to mind my manners and never be afraid to get dirty. I guess that translated into a bit of a rebellious spirit in me. I tend to be outspoken and break rules that weren't meant to be broken. I grew up with a group of guys that I've known since we were little, best of friends, our destinies carefully dictated by our families. Since we were little I've admired him. We met one day on the playground and he's been around ever since. Unfortunately, he was not the chosen one for me. Nor was I for him. Our lives had been planned and prepped and we'd known for a long time the unspoken expectations of what we would do now that we were old enough. He began dating her, and I started training to become the spitting image of my daddy. Even finding myself a successful business man of my own to date. To become my chosen path. One year was all it took to make our plans spin out of control.
We were working together that summer, running a construction company and I remember looking around one day and realizing he'd become a man. A gorgeous one. Red headed, blue eyed, southern working man's body, and a smile that'd bring you to your knees. Always running around in his pick up wearing that awful orange hat and working side by side with the day laborers. You'd have never known his Daddy was a millionaire and this was actually his empire. I was in school full time, working for him and helping my daddy with his own business ventures. Life was…busy.
I'd been dating Mack for a little over a year, successful salesman in our county. He had a promising future. He was safe, acceptable. I hated him. Arm's length was where he belonged.
Tuesday afternoon and I was working in the office our little construction company that could. Answering phones and quoting out jobs when he called and asked if I could go smooth things over with a Homeowner. I climbed in my truck and headed that way. 22 miles down the beach road, the most relaxing drive in the county. I sighed, took one last look at the beautiful waters and made my turn into what was surely hell on earth. The job site was littered with equipment and crates of needed supplies, there in the middle stood one very frantic, Mrs. Homeowner. As it would turn out, green was no longer her favorite color and the ridiculously overpriced Italian tiles we ordered were no longer suiting her needs. Jumping up and down like a chicken on a hot stove, she demanded that the installed work come down right this minute. Just as I was ready to close down the site, as she refused to see reason, he came walking in. Tall and handsome, buff in his cut off work shirt and Timberland boots. Bright blue eyes on fire with a look of determination. That slow drawl of his when he kindly and quietly attempted to calm her down, it was amazing. I had to continually remind myself that he would never be mine.
I could hear him faintly in the background making his case with the client, it wasn't until he stepped into my line of sight and asked a question that I fully came to focus on the job at hand. We got it resolved, let's just say Mrs. Homeowner wasn't too terribly nice to us and I needed a breather. I didn't say a word to anyone, it'd been a rough week already and between my schooling, work and my demanding life at home, I was done. I made the drive the last 4 miles and parked in a sand dune. Took a walk and found an old driftwood stump, sat down and lit a Marlboro. Staring out at the water, I didn't even hear him, but he walked right up behind me and grabbed a seat. Dangling my forgotten truck keys from his fingers, he let out a sweet laugh and reminded me not to let folks like her get to me. I thanked him and asked how he knew where I was. "We've been close friends our entire lives, I know you better than most." Afternoon work be damned, we sat and talked for hours, didn't leave our hiding spot until the sun was going down. I was shocked when he walked me back to my truck and said, "I know we wouldn't want to spread rumors amongst the town and our friends, but it was nice to spend time with you, away from everyone. Want to come over tonight?"
Loaded questions are not my forte. Truth was, yes, I did. Truth was I was also a little intimidated. I finally relented and told him I'd drive out to his place once I got some things done around the house.
Nervous as hell driving out to his place and I didn't know why. I'd made this drive a million times for parties. Thankful to the 30 minute drive to get out to the sticks where he lived I managed to calm myself. I got there feeling confident and looking great, more grown up than he'd seen me with makeup on and my hair all done up. I was tempting trouble trying to show him what he was missing out on.
He had a modest house in a far corner of our county, overlooking a perfect spot of water. We grabbed some beers and lawn chairs and parked it out in the backyard just listening to the sounds of the night. He broke the silence first, "Why are you with Mack?" Smart-assed as ever, "Where's your little debutante?" He must have been sick of my nervous fidgeting when he finally piped up and repeated the question. "I don't know. Maybe because he's steady, he doesn't ask much from me. He doesn't fight me when I don't come around for days. Maybe because he was the first boy who ever said I was pretty. Maybe I don't know what I want, maybe I like the idea of my life not being dictated by what's been expected of me. Maybe I like knowing that he's not exciting, and the entire town doesn't deem me gossip anymore." By the time my rant was over I had tears in my eyes, even as I said the words I knew it was bullshit. I'd been making a mistake with Mack, I had no real feelings for him, I knew it and so did he. Shame on me. I looked up at him, my walls completely unguarded, my jaded angry attitude at bay, hoping that he just might see me for who I was. Ashamed at my outburst, I turned to leave and that's when he finally said, "I want to see you again". Reeling on my heels, and ready to hurl angry comments and ugly truths at him, I froze when he kissed me. Right there in the middle of an awkward argument I was suddenly lost when his lips touched mine. All reasonable thought and sense of self- preservation went right out the window. When his hands found themselves tangled in my hair, I was powerless to stop him. When he released me, breathless and confused, looking at the ground and mumbling under his breath about doing this right, I saw red. How dare he fuck with me like this. Convinced he was playing a game, sowing wild oats, getting back at the debutante, I didn't know but without a word, I walked away. He didn't stop me, didn't follow.
I was jealous of Brooke, his girlfriend, but I would never have ruined her home. And yet, I went to his house. I went even though a tiny ounce of me thought it might be trouble. And it was. I went to sleep that night vowing that I would brush this off, get to work in the morning, clear the air with him and go back to life as normal. I'd call Mack, have a date this weekend. I had classes tonight and a life to get back to. I wouldn't let him affect me like this.
The next morning brought a sense of normalcy and it almost felt like last night hadn't happened. I moved around with purpose, ready to pounce on him when he hit the door. He shocked me by coming in and locking the door to my office. Barring my escape, I was pinned in the back corner of my small office feeling like a deer caught in the headlights. Determined not to let him get the better hand, I played mine first. Apologizing for last night and the heated tempers, I explained there was no need for either of us to be upset or have hard feelings, we could blame it on the beers we had and move on. We needed to be professional for ourselves and friends and family. We've known each other too long not be loyal to that.
What I didn't expect was his response. Clearly pissed off, he stomped out of that office like I'd just kicked his favorite hunting dog. I decided to go back to work, brush it off. He'd come around, realize I was right. This wasn't a big deal. His girlfriend was the town debutante, he's got it good. He'll see that.
I saw him that night when I left my class. Standing under the street light leaning up against my convertible looking like he was fresh out of a Calvin Klein ad. I walked over to him wondering what this chat was going to bring, and how the hell he knew where I'd be. I had my keys in my hand which he very gently took, along with my bag and books, laid them in the back seat and walked me around to the passenger side of my car. He opened the door and motioned me in. Too dumbstruck to speak, I silently got in. He walked around the car, tapped the hood on his way and got in behind the wheel. Too fast to process we were taking off at lightning speed. With the top down the warm, salty night air felt freeing. I supposed he was waiting for my inevitable outburst at this ridiculous situation. After a while of staring at the stars under an Alabama summer sky, I finally spoke. "Why? What do you want from me? Your girlfriend may as well be a model, what's going through your head? We work together, did you forget that?" I threw question after question at him when he finally spoke, his words said volumes. "I've known you since we were 8 years old, and I've wanted you since the first time we raced across the monkey bars. I think we both know that our lives aren't what we say they are. I don't want to live for what everyone thinks we should do. I know you felt it when we kissed, and there's no denying that there's something between us. It may be complicated, especially now, but we can get past it. We can make something of this if you'll let me." For the first time in my life, I made the conscientious decision to let my walls down, be damned if I got hurt or not. Maybe it was because that was the first time in my life that somebody had said those words to me. Maybe I just wanted to live a dangerously. I don't honestly know, looking back on it now, I don't remember a clear thought going through my head when I leaned over and kissed him. "It's going to be messy, and we're going to have to sneak around until we fix this with Mack and Brooke." "I know but I think it's worth it." "Ok" We made the choice to cheat. To break our families perfect vision of southern families and grandbabies on porch swings.
We stayed out that night until the sun came up. Scared and exhilarated I dressed for work and grabbed my coffee. Today would be a new day. I would be a new girl. I was a cheater and cheater's had lies to cover up.
At work that day I stuck to myself but couldn't help the smile that would hit my face every time I saw his name pop up on my phone. Didn't matter that we were only talking about tiles and Mrs. Crazy Homeowner, it was still talking to him. At lunch when I decided to drive into town for a smoothie he saw me and flipped a U-turn in the middle of our makeshift highway and the next thing I knew we were parked behind the smoothie hut having a make out session that my inner teenager was quite proud of. Man could he kiss. As I lazily lay across the bench seat in his dually kissing and holding hands, head in his lap, I couldn't help but be happy.
I was finishing our weekly payroll Friday afternoon, when he came strutting in looking like he just won the lottery. It was pouring down rain outside and I'd already sent all of our workers home for the day. When I heard the lock click, I couldn't help how excited I got. I ran from the back of the building to the front straight in to his arms, smiling and kissing, nipping at his neck. It'd been a long 24 hours since the last time we could touch…I guess we missed each other. When he had to leave I knew it was because he had a date with her. I knew it was ridiculous and this would get me nowhere fast, but I called Mack. I didn't want to spend a rare Friday night off alone.
Mack met me at my house and we headed off to Dinner. It was nothing short of boring and I sat there pretending to eat and acting as though I actually cared what he had to say. When my friend called and said there was a bonfire tonight, I knew I should have said no, but I justified it by thinking this would keep up the appearances everyone expected of us. It never even crossed my mind that he would be there. So of course, there he was, with her, right in my face the entire evening. I was fuming and his blue eyes looked clouded with the same anger. Every time she would touch him, I'd let Mack touch me and it was quickly escalating. When I got angry enough to walk away, he followed right into the horse stables and quickly drug me behind a stall door. "Do you have any idea how much you're pissing me off?" "Are you fucking kidding me? Look at you, she's hanging all over you and you're loving it. Let's just end this and go before anyone gets hurt." "Keep your fucking voice down, no-one, and I mean no fucking one is going anywhere, got it? We'll get through this. We both have to have some time to fix this with our families and significant others, but I am not walking away from you." I was lost in his words and his eyes. His commanding tone was doing nothing but soaking my panties and I knew if I didn't get out of there we'd be the talk of the town before we knew it. I quietly stepped away and managed a small smile, "call me".
I don't know why, maybe out of loneliness, but I stayed the night with Mack that night. It wasn't good or loving, not even enjoyable and I was kicking myself for it. I quickly stepped out his front door the next morning not caring what I looked like and feeling grateful that he lived in another town. If he were there, I'd have already been front page news just with the car in his driveway. I headed into town, grabbed a coffee and some hair clips at the gas station, pinned up my tresses and dropped the top. A quick exchange of dirty t-shirts from my back seat at the gas station and I was headed to shop for a while. Our outdoor mall wasn't much but there were a few different stores, and I worked my ass off to be able to shop like a billionaire. I was walking out of the surf shop loaded down with bags and high credit card bills when I saw them. I left, not wanting to bear witness to anything else. I headed for the car wash, always a good time for me. I cherished my car, a gift when I turned 18, a brand new mustang. She was mine, I put the very first mile on her, and I doted on her every week at Palm Bubbles car wash. I drove over to the vacuums and there he was. With her. Again. Karma wouldn't let me be today. He looked handsome in cargo shorts and a surf shirt scrubbing her car. It didn't take long before that familiar awareness we have for each other kicked in and he looked around. When he spotted me, I ducked my head and left quickly as I could.
Sunday was pointless, a rainy deluge of weather had hit the coast and it was an indoor day. I sat around my house pouting and doing homework, even the poor dog didn't want to keep me company for fear of my grumpy state. I turned off my phone and got to work. Music cranked up and working away. The night passed quickly and before I knew it, it was time for work on Monday and I was ill prepared for his wrath that morning. Apparently he spent the weekend stewing just as much as I had and it was eating him alive too. It was still so early in whatever relationship this was, but we knew, we had to believe, that this pull, this magnetism between us, it was real and it was worth it.
A few weeks went by and we eventually fell into a comfortable routine of waiting until lock up time and then staying late to kiss and touch and just be around each other. The rare occasions we were out in public together he found a way to sneak little touches and private looks that were just for us. It had a way of making everything feel special…intimate. We went into town on a Thursday afternoon to look at supplies for an upcoming job and he must have realized that the gentleman we were working with had no idea who we were and standing there in the rock yard, hands around my waist, he proudly introduced me as his girlfriend. When one of the men assumed we were married, he didn't bother correcting it. It was frighteningly exhilarating. Slowly we were able to have more and more moments like this and I knew deep down that he and I should have been together all along.
When he finally came to me late on a Friday afternoon, well over a month into this sneaky little love fest, with some happy news I couldn't help but smile like a loon. He'd told her no. She'd ask about marriage and babies and he'd told her no. He told her he no longer wanted to see her that this wasn't what he wanted, that he was done. She should take her things and go. He excitedly told me to pack a bag and go stash my car for the weekend, he'd come pick me up, we were getting out of town. It didn't take me long to realize it was a lie, he wouldn't interfere with the path he had been set on. He would always stay with her.
I threw caution to the wind and made a few calls, explained a friend needed some help moving and I was heading out. Be back sometime Sunday. I told myself that for 48 hours of his undivided attention it was worth the sins. And it was. We drove 3 hours from home to avoid being caught by friends or family. With a cooler stocked with the necessities we checked into a cute cabin out in the old Indian Woods and just let ourselves go. We were free to be together, nobody knew us here. It was beautiful. Under a blanket on an old wooden log in the forest, he took me for the first time. Under the stars, he slowly pushed up my skirt, enticing me, testing my commitment to us. I pushed back, needy and silently begging him for love and acceptance. He didn't disappoint, gently removing my panties he slowly entered me, loving me, until I thought I would explode. His strong hands across my back and hips, guiding me to take what I needed as I rode him, guiding me to be the one who bonded us together for the first time. Encouraging me to make those steps. The next morning he also had to teach me how to get splinters out of my knees. We made love three more times before we left the Indian Woods. It could never be enough to satiate my thirst for him.
I watched him one day about a week later helping a lady tow her truck out of a sand dune she got stuck in and staring in awe of his manners and kind nature, dreaming of how amazing life would be if I could stand over there with that lady and talk about how proud I was to call him mine. Unfortunately those dreams didn't last long. His family started pressuring him right things with Brooke and he was starting to succumb to those pressures. Worse yet, Mack was spending more time with my father, I knew what that meant.
He hadn't said a word for a week regarding Brooke or the family's pressure on him. I hoped it had been dropped. Much to my chagrin during a late night lockup session, Brooke came strutting into my office. Clearly laying claim to him. He didn't say a word to me as he got up and placed a hand on the small of her back, effectively escorting her out of my sight, shutting me out. The tears in my eyes stung, but he didn't need to see them fall. I quickly packed up and walked out to my car, passing them in a loving embrace on my way out. I could see him walking her inside in my rear view, clearly happy I had left. After sitting through class and having plenty of time to simmer in my own sauce, I remembered I wasn't innocent myself and still hadn't talked to Mack. It had to be done, with or without him, I would break the chain. Change my own path.
Mack took the news well and didn't seem to really care. Seemed like he may have had a little something on the side himself. Of course he took his time to remind me of how disappointed my daddy would be and that he loved me, but he knew I needed time to come around to his way of thinking. Well fuck him. Or at least I told myself that when I realized I'd thrown away a potential marriage for a man that didn't respect me enough to leave his girlfriend. At that point, I did what any southern girl would do, I packed up my shit and went to my daddy.
Dad didn't ask any questions when me and the dog appeared on his doorstep at 4 a.m. He silently offered a strong coffee and a fresh smoke and let me be. Though I think he'd figured out I was up to no good.
I didn't see him for a few days and it was just as well but I was really starting to miss him. The way he kept me grounded in this awful mess. He helped me justify us, our actions. Without him it was only the lies that stared me back in the mirror each morning. So when Mack knocked on the door late one night, I said yes. Still pitifully pouting and staying with my dad he wanted to have drinks and talk and I wanted to stop thinking. I went and we talked and he took me to a jewelry store bought a big fat rock and proposed on the spot. It's sad and shameful, but I said yes. He took me home and proudly beamed at my father, my poor dad thought I was missing him. He was wrong, his little girl was a cheater, and she wasn't in love with the chosen one.
Everyone started rushing and making plans and I was town gossip all over again, marrying Mack, the successful salesman. Caught herself a real catch. He's well off and handsome, you'll have beautiful children. Isn't she lucky? I was miserable and wrong in so many ways. I missed him and the way he held me. I wanted it to be him. But he himself was also town news, seems he was seen approaching Brooke's family last week after church, looks like he'll have news of his own soon.
We stopped talking for a while, strictly work. No touching, no kissing, no love making, no heart or care at all. Our friendship was broken, our secret lives seemingly crushed. I missed him terribly and ached for him daily.
I heard Brooke moved in with him and I was being told I'd have to give up my nice little home I was so proud of so that my husband could provide for me. Because I needed that? Like hell and fuck you. I was working hard to be my own person and not ready to give that up. Thankfully, my fiancée didn't seem to mind me living 45 miles away in my own home. He was happy to give me the space.
I found myself at the bottom of a bottle of Jack Daniels more nights than not for a while. Wallowing in mourning of the lost relationship and life that could have been. When he knocked on my door just as drunk as I was late one night begging to know why I said yes I could have killed him. Instead I ripped the buttons on his shirt wide open before the front door even shut. When he pulled my pony tail back and bit my neck demanding answers I only shamelessly ground myself into him, showing him what he's missing every night he's not here with me. I'm not too proud to admit that I made him to stay until I was through, until I cried it all out, until I whispered his name more than once in pure ecstasy. We made love all night and all morning and didn't work at all the next day. It was stupid to leave his truck in the driveway and negligent but we were desperate and didn't care. He stayed that next night with me and vowed that we would fix the mess we created.
We never fixed shit. Instead, we ended up skirting around like our lives depended on it. I couldn't stand not being with him. Hated the way I felt when I was forced to stay away and he swore he felt the same. He wouldn't make us go without again and we would fix this. The debutante and the sales boy would be last week's news real soon.
As the months went on, we got bolder with our hidden expeditions. Noon time breaks to sneak to someone's house or a nearby motel to get tangled in the sheets. Make out sessions behind every smoothie hut and quickie mart we could find. Going over to the next county on Friday nights for dates, even making secret friends. We made excuses and found ways to dodge everyone. We made them believe we had to work or we had to take a business trip together. He loved taking me boating with our secret friends, showing me off. Making me feel wanted. We spent an entire weekend with them and their family, making love on the dock and living like we weren't gossip inducing assholes. We were so emboldened after a particularly passionate night that we decided to take a vacation. He didn't know how or where but be ready, we were getting out of this nosy town for a while.
He wasn't kidding. Late in the afternoon a week later he called with a detailed plan, right down to the location to store my car and a cover story for Mack. He picked me up at a dirty gas station outside of our county and we took off, straight for a cruise line boat getting ready to leave port. We would have 4 days cruising to Mexico and making love. The boat was amazing, his plan, him, everything was amazing and I got so wrapped up in the moment I completely forgot about my life. When he pinned me against the bathroom door that night and slowly, gently, slid the diamond ring off my finger I didn't protest, didn't say anything. I smiled. I fucking smiled. It was sickening how wrapped up I was in our romance and passion. His 6 foot 2 frame held me steady against the door as he commanded my mind and body to tell him who I belonged to. Who made me feel this way. Who I was. I said his name over and over that night and I showed it as many times as our bodies would allow. On my knees, on my back, hovering over him, I loved him with everything I had. On Saturday night he replaced that diamond he took off my finger, with a promise I knew he would never keep. A beautiful array of stones set in a solid band, diamonds of all colors and cuts, the most unique ring I'd ever seen. I couldn't help falling in love with him just that much more for making the gesture. For trying in a very unforgiving life that we were leading. The rest of the trip we lived and loved like a happy 20 something couple should, we made friends and promised to do it again. He made me smile and I did my best to make him remember me for the rest of his days with her.
Brooke looked beautiful at the Sunday Social the next weekend. We'd been sneaking around all week and reliving our weekend in the Mexico sunshine…what little of it we saw. The last thing I wanted was to be reminded of her and her beauty queen good looks. She was in a blue sundress and I was in a pissy mood, my nicest sweats and a tank, fuck the Sunday Social. My daddy made me go and he drug Mack along for good measure. When he came walking over, looking cocky and playing the game I almost lost my lunch. He insisted on talking with my fiancée, making nice. I wanted to punch them both in the face. I had his ring on a necklace around my neck that I had been telling everyone I bought at an antique shop. As he stood there and talked with Mack, he continuously made motions to the necklace and the ring around my neck. A subtle reminder of who I belonged to. Of our sins. I played nice even though I was dying inside and when she joined the conversation looking every bit the perfect southern wife I had to excuse myself.
I never mentioned the social again. It made me sick just to think of it. We carried on with our torrid lunch appointments and business meetings. Even took another weekend long trip, told our families we were going to a trade show for the construction company. We took off for the Indian Woods again, met our secret friends out there for a weekend of fun in the sun and couple normalcy. We boated and fished, had a naked little party for two all weekend. We were half drunk and very much in love on the power of our illicit affair. One of those drunken nights ended in a particularly punishing session results of the never discussed church social. Mixed emotions and mixed drinks made for the roughest most delicious sex of my life. He pushed into me begging to be told that I'd never let my fiancée touch me again, that I didn't want him. Truth was I never did. But I urged him on, I told him I suck him off all the time, I love that cock, I loved my fiancée. I didn't, but for every act of rebellion he pushed me that much further. For every time I answered defiantly he made me cum harder. For every time I reminded him of reality he clung that much tighter. It was a tantalizing high. And it was all lies.
Next thing I knew it was Christmas time and I was as confused as ever. I was hoping to get away for a few days see my niece in all her 13 year old dramatic glory for the holidays. I planned my get away for the week of Christmas and tried for two weeks to get him to come with me. Seems somebody had claimed his holiday time before I got the chance. I would be alone on this one. I asked him to take me to the airport, he was all smiles and walked me in like a good boyfriend would do. Even handed me his credit card to buy myself something pretty on my trip. I giggled and said thanks, he told me my Christmas presents were in my luggage and I should open them after Santa comes. I hopped a flight to Atlanta with a smile on my face and a light heart. When I landed in Atlanta and went for a smoke break, I called to hear his voice. To this day I still don't know what happened to him during my three hours of in-flight silence but when he answered he sounded nearly in tears. Silence on the line when he finally asked the one question we swore we wouldn't ask. "Do you love me?" It hung in the air, I didn't even have an answer for him. I tried to talk my way out of it knowing that we'd have a hard time coming back from this if it went the wrong way. I begged him to talk later. "We can't." Those two words told me all I needed to know. We were done.
I made it home and found myself unpacking the luggage I'd avoided for a week, those damned presents. Half a bottle of jack was enough courage to open them. Every gift was a memory, a remembrance of something we had done. A photo from Indian woods, a necklace from Cabo, a stuffed animal from a hotel gift shop. His way of saying goodbye. He knew it before I was even gone, his engagement announcement was loud and proud on the front page of the paper when I returned home. Merry fucking Christmas. His pleading question in the Atlanta airport must have been one last justification to continue doing what we were doing. I guess in my mind, I knew no matter what, he would always go back to the original path he was set on.
I tortured myself finding just the right spot to put the memories of us around my house deciding I would celebrate him instead of hiding. That I would carry on and pretend that none of this ever happened. He and I never spoke about us again. It ended peacefully and we went back to being all business. Inside though, I've never been the same.
He passed away unexpectedly a few years back and I found myself face to face with my lies for the first time since that year. It's a sadness that tears through you, a pain that can't be explained. I was never able to share it. Until today.