LISA
Jennie's eyes are on me. The worry in them builds a gnawing worry in me in return. She's been through so much, a lot of which was at my hand, so worrying about me is the last thing she should be doing. I want her to focus on herself, on being herself again and not putting any more effort into fretting over me. I love the way her compassion for others, especially me, overrides her own troubles.
"You aren't being insensitive. I'm lucky you're even speaking to me." It's the truth, but whatever's supposed to come next in this conversation, I'm unsure of.
Jennie nods slowly. And pauses before gently asking the question that I'm sure was her main reason for coming in here. "So, do you plan on telling Marco about everything from Thailand?"
I lie back on the bed with my eyes closed and think about her question before answering. I have been thinking over this a lot the last few days, going back and forth between telling him in a rushed confession or doing the opposite and keeping the information to myself. Does Marco need to know? And if I tell him, am I willing to accept the changes that will come from this? Will there be any changes, or am I just being a bitch about it? It seems fitting that the moment I start to tolerate and possibly forgive the man, I find out he's not my father to forgive after all.
I open my eyes and sit up. "I'm still deciding. Actually, I sort of wanted to get your opinion on that."
My girl's brown eyes aren't shining the way I've become so used to, but they hold more life today than the last time I saw her. It was pure fucking torture being under the same roof with her without being near her, not in the way I need to be.
Everything has seemed to shift in an ironic twist of fate, and I'm now the one begging for attention, begging for simply anything that she will offer me. Even now, the thoughtful expression in her eyes is enough to soothe the constant ache that I refuse to learn to live with no matter how far she pushes herself away from me.
"Would you like to have a relationship with Christian?" she asks softly, her small fingers tracing the frayed stitching on the comforter.
"No," I quickly respond. "Hell, I don't know," I backtrack. "I need you to tell me what I should do."
She nods, and her eyes meet mine. "Well, I think you should only tell Marco if you think it will help you deal with some of the pain from your childhood. I don't think you should tell him if your only reason to do so is out of spite or anger; and as far as Christian goes, I think you have a little bit of time to make that decision. Just see where things go, you know?" she suggests in that understanding tone she has.
"How is it that you do that?"
She tilts her chin, confused. "Do what?"
"Always say the right thing."
"I don't." A soft laugh falls between us. "I don't say the right things."
"You do." I reach my hand out for her, but she pulls away. "You do say the right things; you always have. I just couldn't hear you before."
Jennie looks away from me, but that's okay. It will take some time for her to get used to hearing these things from me, but she will get used to it. I've made a vow to tell her how I feel and to stop being selfish and expecting her to decipher my every word and intention.
The vibration of her cell phone breaks the stillness, and she pulls it from the pocket of her oversize sweatshirt. I force myself to pretend that she bought the WCU sweatshirt and that she's not wearing Jisoo's clothing. I have been subjected to wearing every embroidered piece of WCU merchandise known to man, but I hate the idea of her clothes touching her skin. It's irrational and fucking stupid, but I can't stop the thoughts from entering and taking root in my mind.
She swipes her thumb across the screen, and it takes a moment for me to realize what I'm seeing.
I snatch the phone from her hands before she can stop me. "An iPhone? You're shitting me!" I stare down at the new phone in my hands.
"This is yours?"
"Yeah." Her cheeks flush, and she reaches for the phone, but I stretch my arms above my head, out of her reach.
"Oh, so now you get an iPhone, but when I wanted you to, you absolutely refused!" I tease. Her eyes are wide, and she takes a nervous breath. "Why the change of heart?" I smile at her, easing her discomfort.
"I don't know. It was time, I guess." She shrugs her shoulders, still nervous.
I don't like how she looks unsettled, but I'm hoping that a little playfulness is all that's needed. "What's the pass code?" I ask while hitting the numbers that I'm guessing she'll have used.
Ha—got it on the first try, and I'm welcomed in by her home screen.
"Lisa!" she squeals, attempting to grab the phone from me. "You can't just go through my phone!" She leans across and grabs my bare arm with one hand and reaches for the phone with the other.
"Yes, I can." I laugh. The simplest touch from her has me buzzing; every cell beneath my skin is alive from her skin on mine.
She smiles and holds out a demanding little hand to match that sweet little grin that I've missed so much. "All right. Give me yours, then."
"Nope, sorry." I continue to tease her while obsessively scrolling through her text messages.
"Give me the phone!" she whines and moves closer to me, but then her smile disappears. "There are probably a lot of things on your phone that I don't want to see." And like that, I can feel her guard sliding back into place.
"No, there isn't. There are over a thousand pictures of you and an entire album of your bullshit music, and if you really want to see how pathetic I am, you could check the call logs and see how many times I've called your old number just to hear that robotic bitch voice tell me that your number is no longer in service."
She glares at me, obviously not believing me. Not that I blame her. Her eyes soften but only momentarily before she says, "None of Janine?" Her voice is so low that I barely catch the accusation.
"What? No! Go on, look at it. It's on the dresser."
"I'd rather not."
I lean up onto my knees and press my shoulder into hers. "Jennie, she's nothing to me. Never will be."
Jennie's trying hard not to care. She's fighting within herself to show me that she has moved on from me, but I know her better than that. I know that she's stewing over the idea of me with another woman.
"I need to go." She stands to leave, and I reach for her. My fingers gently grab her arm, softly asking for her to come back to me. She hesitates at first, and I don't force her. I wait for her, my fingers rubbing small circles into the soft skin above her wrist.
"I know what you think happened, but you're wrong," I try to convince her.
"No, I know what I saw. I saw her in your shirt," she snaps. She pulls her hand away from me but stands closer.
"I was out of my mind, Jennie, but I didn't fuck her." I wouldn't have.
Having her touch me was bad enough. For a moment I wonder if I should tell Jennie the way I couldn't stand Janine's cigarette-flavored lips on mine, but that seems like it would only set her off.
"Sure." She rolls her eyes defiantly.
"I miss you and your attitude." I try to lighten the mood, but she only rolls her eyes again. "I love you."
That gains her attention, and she pushes at my chest to put some space between our bodies. "Stop doing that! You can't just decide you want me now and expect me to come running back to you."
I want to tell her that she's going to come back to me because she belongs with me, that I will never stop trying to convince her of this. But instead I smile at her and shake my head. "Let's change the subject. I just wanted you to know that I miss you, okay?"
"Okay." She sighs. She brings her fingers to her lips and pinches them, making me forget what I was going to change the subject to.
"An iPhone." I turn her phone in my hand again. "I can't believe you got an iPhone and weren't going to tell me." I glance over and watch as her frown turns into a half smile.
"It's not a big deal. It helps a lot with my schedule, and Jisoo is going to show me how to download music and movies."
"I can help you."
"It's okay, really," she says, trying to dismiss me.
"I will help you. I can show you now." I pull up the iTunes Store.
We spend an hour this way, me going through the catalog choosing all of her favorite music and showing her how to download those cheesy Tom Hanks romantic comedies that she seems to love. Jennie is nearly silent the entire time, only a few Thank yous and No, not that songs are given, and I try not to push her for conversation.
I did this to her, I turned her into the quiet, unsure woman before me, and it's my fault that she doesn't know how to act right now. It's my fault that every time I lean into her, she pulls away, taking a piece of me with her each time.
It seems impossible that I would have anything left to give her, that she doesn't already consume and own every single part of me, but somehow, when she smiles at me, my body comes up with a little more of myself to let her steal away. It's all for her, and it will always be that way.
"Do you need me to show you how to download the best porn, too?" I joke, and I'm awarded another flush of her cheeks.
"Oh, I'm sure you know all about that," she teases back. I love this. I love being able to tease her the way I used to, and I fucking love that she's letting me.
"Not really, actually, I have plenty of images up here." I tap at my forehead with my cast, and she grimaces. "Only of you."
Her frown doesn't waver, but I refuse to allow her to think this way. It's insane thinking—that I would be interested in anyone but her. I'm starting to think she's as crazy as I am. Maybe that would explain why she stayed with me as long as she did.
"I mean it. I only think of you. It's always you." My tone is serious now, too fucking serious, but I don't care enough to change it. I've tried the joking, friendly shit, and I hurt her feelings.
She surprises me by asking, "What types of things do you think about me?"
I bring my bottom lip between my teeth as images of her flash through my mind. "You don't want me to answer that."
Jennie spread out on the bed, her thighs pushed apart and her fingers clawing at the sheets as she comes against my tongue.
Jennie's hips moving in slow, torturing circles as she rides my cock, her moans filling the room.
Jennie kneeling in front of me, her full lips parting as she takes me into her warm mouth.
Jenni leaning forward, her naked skin glowing in the soft light of the room.
She's in front of me, facing away from me as she lowers her body onto me. I fill her as she gasps my name . . .
"You're probably right," she laughs, then sighs. "We always do this, we always slip right back into this." She waves her hand back and forth between us.
I know exactly what she means. I'm in the middle of the worst week of my life, and she has me laughing and smiling over a damn iPhone. "This is us, baby. This is how we are. We can't help it."
"We can help it. We have to. I have to." Her words may sound convincing in her mind, but she's not fooling me.
"Stop overthinking everything. You know this is how it should be, us teasing one another over porn, me thinking about all the dirty things I have done, and the still more I want to do, to you."
"This is literally insane. We can't do this." She leans in closer to me.
"Do what?"
"Everything isn't about sex." Her eyes focus on my crotch, and I can tell she's trying to look away from the bulge there.
"I never said it was, but you can do us both a favor and stop acting like you aren't thinking the same things that I am."
"We can't."
But then I notice our breathing has synchronized. And ever-so-subtly her tongue peeks out and caresses her bottom lip.
"I didn't offer," I remind her.
I didn't offer, but I sure as hell wouldn't refuse. I'm not that lucky, though, there is no way she will let me touch her. Not anytime soon . . . right?
"You were suggesting." She smiles.
"When aren't I?"
"True." She fights a giggle. "This is so confusing. We shouldn't be doing this. I don't trust myself around you."
Fuck, I'm glad she doesn't. I don't trust me half the time. But I say,
"What could be the worst to happen?" and move a hand to her shoulder.
She flinches at the touch, but it's not the same repellent flinch that I've been dealing with for the last week.
"I could continue to be an idiot," she whispers, and I move my hand slowly up and down the length of her arm.
"Stop thinking, just shut your mind off, and let your body control this. Your body wants me, Jennie, it needs me."
She shakes her head, denying the simple truth.
"Yes, yes, it does." I continue touching her, closer to her chest now, waiting for her to stop me. If she does, I will cease all contact. I would never push this on her. I've done a lot of fucked-up shit, but that's never an option.
"See the thing is . . . is that I know every single place to touch you." I look into her eyes for approval, and they're flashing like a neon sign. She's not going to stop me; her body still craves me as it always has. "I know how to make you come so hard that you'll forget everything else."
Maybe if I can please her body, her mind will follow suit. Then, once I can break through to both mind and body, her heart will follow their lead.
I've never been shy when it comes to her body and pleasing her: Why start now?
I take her silence and the way she can't seem to take her eyes off mine for a yes and reach for the hem of her sweatshirt. Damn this thing, it's heavier than it should be, and the damn string is tangled into Jennie's hair.
She swats at my bad hand and removes the sweatshirt and detaches her hair from the thing.
"I'm not forcing you into anything here, am I?" I have to ask.
"No," she breathes. "I know it's a terrible idea, but I don't want to stop."
I nod. "I need an escape from everything; please distract me."
"Shut your mind off. Stop thinking about all of the other shit and focus on this." I run my fingers along her neckline, and she shivers under my touch.
She catches me off guard and presses her lips to mine. Within seconds the slow, unsure kiss vanishes and is replaced by us. The timid gestures evaporate, and suddenly we are in our own place. All the other bullshit's gone, and it's only me and Jennie and her lips crushing against mine, her tongue making hurried swipes across my own, her hands in my hair, tugging at the roots and driving me fucking wild.
I wrap my arms around her and press my hips into hers until her back reaches the mattress. Her knee is bent, lifted, level with my crotch, and I shamelessly rub myself against her. She gasps at my desperation and removes a hand from my hair to bring down to her own chest. I could burst at the feeling of having her under me again—it's too fucking much, yet not enough, and I can't form a thought aside from her.
She touches herself, gripping one of her large breasts, and I look down like I've forgotten how to do anything else except stare at her perfect body and the way she's finally letting loose with me. She needs this even more than I do. She needs the distraction from the real world, and I will gladly serve in that role.
Our moves aren't calculated—pure passion is fueling us. I'm the fire, and she's the damn gasoline, and there's no sign of stopping or slowing until something is sure to explode. I'll be waiting then, ready to fight the flames for her, keeping her safe so she doesn't get burned by me, again.
Her hand travels down her body, and she grips me, rubbing her hand over me, and I have to concentrate not to come from her hand alone. I shift my hips, resting them between her parted legs as she tugs at the waistband of my shorts. I tug at hers with one hand until both of us are naked from the waist down.
The groan that escapes her lips matches my own when I rub against her, skin to skin. I shift slightly, entering her partially, and she groans again.
This time she presses her mouth to my bare shoulder. She's licking and sucking at my skin as I push farther inside her. My vision blurs as I try to savor every second of this, every moment that she's willing to be with me in this way.
"I love you," I promise her.
Her mouth stops moving, and her grip on my arms loosens.
"Lisa . . ."
"Marry me, Jennie. Please." I push my cock inside her, filling her, hoping to catch her in an unfair moment of weakness.
"If you're going to say things like that, then we can't do this," she says softly. I can see the hurt in her eyes, the lack of self-control she has when it comes to me, and I instantly feel guilty for bringing up fucking marriage while fucking her. Great fucking timing, you selfish asshole.
"I'm sorry. I'll stop." I assure her with a kiss. I will give her this time to think, and I will lay off the heavy shit while I'm thrusting in and out of her hot, wet—
"Oh God," she moans.
Instead of confessing my undying love for her, I'll only say the things she wants to hear. "You feel so fucking tight around me. It's been so long," I say against her neck, and one of her hands presses against the bottom of my back, pressing me deeper into her.
Her eyes pinch shut, and her legs begin to tighten. I know she's already close, and even though she hates me right now, she loves my filthy mouth.
I'm not going to last long, but neither is she. I've missed this—not only the pure fucking perfection that it is to be inside her, but being close to her in this way is something I need, something she needs.
"Come on, baby. Come around me, let me feel you," I say through gritted teeth.
She obeys, clenching one of my arms and whimpering my name as she pushes her head back into the mattress. She comes apart, stitch by beautifully constructed stitch, and I watch her. I watch her beautiful mouth fall open as she whimpers my name. I watch the way her eyes find mine just before they close in pleasure. It's too much, the beauty of her coming for me, allowing me to have her. I push myself into her once more, grabbing onto her hip as I spill into her.
"Fuck." I drop to my elbows next to her, careful not to crush her with the weight of my body.
Her eyes are closed, her lids heavy as she struggles to open them.
"Mhmm," she agrees.
I prop myself up onto my elbow and stare at her while she's not looking.
I'm afraid of what will happen when she comes to, when she begins to regret this and her anger toward me grows.
"You okay?" I can't help but trace the curve of her bare hip with my finger.
"Yeah." Her voice is thick and sated.
I'm so fucking glad she came to my door. I don't know how much longer I could have gone without seeing her or hearing her voice.
"You're sure?" I push. I need to know what this meant to her.
"Yes." She opens one eye, and I can't fight the stupid smile on my face.
"Okay." I nod. As I look at her, relaxing in her afterglow, it feels so nice to have her back, even if only for a few moments. She closes her eyes again, and right then I remember something. "So, what did you come here for in the first place?"
Immediately the sated, sleepy look disappears from her beautiful face, and for a moment she opens both eyes wide before regaining her composure.
"What is it?" I ask, Rosé's face surfacing in my demented thoughts. "Tell me, please."
"It's Karen." She rolls onto her side, and I force my eyes away from her perfect tits on display.
Why the hell are we discussing Karen while naked? "Okay . . . what about her?"
"She's . . . well . . ." Jennie stops for a moment, and my chest fills with an unexpected panic for the woman, for Marco, too.
"She's what?"
"She's pregnant."
What? The fuck? "By who?"
This obliviousness amuses Jennie, and she laughs. "Your father," she says, but quickly corrects herself, "by Marco. Who else?"
I don't know what I was expecting to hear, but Karen's being pregnant was sure as hell not it. "What?"
"I know it's a little surprising, but they're very happy about it."
A little surprising? This is more than a little fucking surprising.
"Marco and Karen are having a baby?" I speak the ridiculous words.
"Yes." Jennie eyes me carefully. "How do you feel about it?"
How do I feel about it? I don't fucking know. I barely know the man, we are just starting to build something here, and now he's having a baby?
Another kid he'll actually be sticking around to help raise.
"I guess it doesn't matter how I feel, does it?" I say in a vain attempt to shut both of us up. I lie on my back and close my eyes.
"Yes, it does. It matters to them. They want you to know that the baby won't change anything, Lisa. They want you to be part of the family. You'll be a big brother again."
A big brother?
Smith and his weird, adultlike personality come to mind, and I feel nauseated. This is too much for anyone to handle, and it's sure as hell too much for someone as fucked-up as me.
"Lisa, I know it's hard to wrap your head around, but I think—"
"I'm fine. I need a shower." I climb out of the bed and grab the shorts from the floor.
Jennie sits up, confused and hurt, as I pull the shorts up my legs. "I'm here if you want to talk about it. I wanted to be the one to tell you about all of this."
It's too much. She doesn't even want me.
She refuses to marry me.
Why can't she see what we are? What we are together? We cannot be apart. Ours is a love of the novels, better than any Austen or Brontë she has memorized.
My heart is pounding out of my chest—I can barely breathe.
She feels as if she isn't living? I can't understand that. I just can't. I only live when it comes to her. She's the only breath of life inside of me, and without it I will be nothing. I will neither survive nor live.
I wouldn't want to even if I could.
Fuck, the dark thoughts are fighting their way back into my head, and I'm overwhelmed by the struggle to hold on to the little bit of light Jennie has given back to me.
When will this end? When will shit not keep popping up each and every fucking time I finally feel like I have a grasp on my own mind?