If I Can't Have You (14 page)

Whit prances into the kitchen, still wearing her nightshirt. She stretches and smiles whimsically. “Good morning,” she sings. She’s giddy. I wish I felt that way. I’d give anything to feel different than the way I’m feeling now. I’d give anything to not feel like a waste.

Whit notices the depressed look I’m wearing and sits down across from me. She massages me forearm. “Robs, what’s wrong?”

I exhale and suck back the oncoming tears. “I saw Elliot last night.”

“I figured that.”

“What? How?”

“He came here looking for you.”

My eyes widen then I blink several times. “When?”

“Last night. That bastard woke me up. He was throwing rocks at the back window. I can’t understand why’d do that since we have his cell number, but it was actually kinda cute,” Whit giggles. “Any who, I told him you were probably walking on the beach or something.”

“Oh.” I play with my fingers for a second. “I saw Drake, too.”

Whit grips onto my hand and squeezes. “When?”

“He was waiting for me on the steps of the porch when I got back from the walk.” Our eyes lock. “He didn’t knock on the door or anything did he?”

Whit shakes her head. “No. And you know me; if he knocked I would have heard it.” Whit has always been a really light sleeper. “What did he want?”

“He apologized,” I say with a shrug and a crack of emotion in my voice.

I’m not telling her the whole story and it kills me to keep this from her, but I’m still in pain and I’d rather wait to elaborate. But Whit doesn’t buy it. Sometimes I wish she didn’t know me so well. She slits her eyes. “What are you not telling me?”

“Nothing.”

Whit puckers her lips and shakes her head. “Spill. I know you’re not telling me something.”

“Alright,” I sigh. “So I asked Drake a question last night.”

Whit closes her eyes and lets a gust of air out of her lungs. “Oh no.”

“I asked him if he liked me like that.”

“Oh, no. Robin you didn’t?”

A tear drips down my cheek. “I’m an idiot.” It feels like I’ve been having idiot moments a lot lately.

Whit reaches up and wipes the tear away. “I don’t know, Whit. For some reason I thought I’d be able to handle hearing his answer. I listened to what you said. I needed the closure or I didn’t feel like I’d ever be able to move on.”

“What exactly was his answer?”

The words sting my tongue as I spit them out. “I’ve never liked you like that.”

I stand slowly, knees trembling, more tears flowing from my eyes. I hunch over, placing my hands flat on the table as I gasp for air and my crying escalates. Whit rushes over and pulls me in, hugging me and I lie my head on her shoulder. “Why does it hurt so much? If I didn’t love him at all, why do I still feel like I’m broken inside?”

Whit hugs me tighter and rests her chin on the top of my forehead. “Because Robs, the truth hurts. It always does. And always will.”

For once I’m thankful that I never let another guy make me feel the way Drake did. The pain inside me throbs, gripping my heart, and cuts off the flow of blood from my arteries. And I’m certain that if I did allow myself to feel like this I would have never made it through high school in one piece.

After lunch, Whit hops in the shower and I grab a beach chair and head out back. I want to get lost in the waves, swept up by the tide, and warm from the heavy sunshine. I’m cold inside. Frigid. Stiff. And I’m hoping that a few rays from the burning sun will be able to melt the ice inside of me. Make me feel alive instead of frozen over and dead inside.

As I plant my beach chair firmly in the sand I catch Sadie, pacing behind her house. I focus on her tense stature and the way her jaw is clenched. And then she screams, “Fuck you, Drake!” Then she throws her cell phone into the sand. He’s burned her too. For some reason that makes me feel a little better.

That is until I hear her sobbing.

A pang of remorse stabs my heart and even though I know I shouldn’t feel sorry for her, I do. Standing, I make a point to go over to her and she glares in my direction and tries to hide the fact that she’s crying. “Everything okay, Sadie?” I am concerned for her because I know first-hand how bad Drake’s words can sting.

“What do you care?” she bites back with a scowl and quickly scurries away from me.

****

Elliot comes by later and I let him and Whit talk me into going sailing. Seconds after stepping foot on the boat I instantly regret that decision. The small boat rocks back and forth being tossed around on the waves like a beach ball. The choppy waters don’t agree with me. My head is spinning and stomach is in knots and I spend a good portion of the day that supposed to be fun-filled hanging over the side of the boat, trying to prevent myself from throwing up.

“You okay over there!” I hear Elliot shout from somewhere behind me. His shout is faint though. It’s nearly impossible to hear anything over the sound of the forceful, blowing wind and the bottom of the boat slapping against the water.

“Ugh,” I manage a moan and raise my hand. I can’t turn around. That might be the one movement from that will lead to the interior floor of the boat being decorated with my vomit.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Whit in front of me. She’s sitting Indian style in the front of the boat and seems to be enjoying herself. Her head is tilted back slightly, her eyes closed, and she lets out a sigh of relief. A small smile stretches across my lips and I’m happy she’s feeling better. Just then the boat hits a wave and at that point I can’t hold it back anymore. I upchuck over the side of the boat and give the fish some fish food.

We don’t get back until sunset and I know now more than ever that I don’t have sea legs. As I try to get off the boat my stomach bottoms out and my knees buckle. Elliot catches me by the waist and hesitates a moment, keeping his masculine hands firmly above my hip bones. “Easy, there sailor.”

Sailor? Now I know he has to be joking.

Whit laces her arm through mine and I stretch my forearm over her shoulder. “I’ve got it from here, Elliot,” she assures him.

Elliot backs away, but as we start walking away from him he jogs back over. “Hey.”

“Hey,” I groan still queasy.

“You guys doing anything later?”

“No plans as of yet,” Whit comments.

“Well, there’s another party tonight. I was hoping to see you guys there.”

“As long as there won’t be any boat rides at this party I’m in,” I say.

Elliot laughs momentarily, but keeps a wide grin on his lips. “I promise no boat rides.”

“We’ll be there,” Whit retorts.

Elliot chews his bottom lip. His full, pouty sexy bottom lip. “Good. The party starts at 10:00pm. It’s at the same spot the last one was at. Do you need directions again?”

“Nah,” Whit says. “It’s probably still saved in the GPS.” She turns to look at me. “Right, Robs?”

I nod.

Then Elliot turns and walks away and I’m left sick and puzzled.

Sick because I’m not sure if my stomach will ever get used to the sturdiness of dry land and puzzled because I swear when Elliot invited us to the party my heartbeat actually picked up and started racing.

~20~

When you touched me your fingers danced across my skin and at the same time, spoke to my soul.

We pull up in front of the frat house and Whit pulls down the passenger side mirror to check her lip gloss. Me? I’m staring at the crowded front yard wondering if this was such a good idea. I know I’ll see Drake here. He’s officially number one on my guys-I’ll-loathe-eternally list.

Actually he’s the only guy on that list.

Questions pound into my brain and throb in my temples. What will I do if I see him? I’m torn on whether I’ll be a mega a bitch or wind up stalking off to a remote area trying to hold back my tears.

Whit pushes the mirror back up and nods toward the window. “You ready?” She opens her door. “Don’t worry if he says anything else to you, I’ll hold him down so you can kick him in the nads.”

I laugh and get out of the car. Whit’s always got a quick-witted sarcastic comeback line ready to throw out and this one in particular makes me feel at ease.

As we make our way up the driveway Elliot is already heading toward us, but as I peer over his shoulder I see Drake lingering in the background engaged in some conversation with a few overly muscled jock-type guys. His eyes flick toward me for a moment. He smiles and I look away. That smile is a killer and for a second I wish all of his teeth would fall out.

I break away from Whit and Elliot and walk toward the back of the house. I can be at this party and I can enjoy it as long as I don’t have to look at Drake’s beautiful deceitful face. I think.

“Where the hell are you going?” By the tone in Whit’s voice I can tell she’s wearing her WTF face, where every feature is smooshed together and her nose is wrinkled.

I wave her off and don’t turn around. “For a walk!”

And I don’t wait for either one of them to follow either. I keep walking straight, heading to the beach.

With my knees to my chest, I sit in the sand a few feet away from the navy waters. The waves are choppy today. Choppy and restless. That’s exactly how I feel inside choppy.

Elliot comes up behind me and plops down beside me. I know it’s him. I don’t even have to look at him to know he’s the one next to me. “Where’s Whit?” I inquire, not taking my eyes off the crashing waves.

“Talking to some guy.”

I glare at Elliot. “Why do you insist on following me around like some lost puppy?”

“Why do you insist on avoiding me on most occasions?” he counters.

“I don’t know,” I huff. “Maybe because you remind me too much of your brother.”

Elliot scoffs, “Let’s get one thing straight. I am
not
my brother.”

I roll my eyes. “Right.”

Elliot scoots closer to me and stares at me. He’s undressing me with his eyes and surprising warmth singes the nerve endings in my fingertips. Don’t touch me. I’m a key in a socket. I’ll spark.

His fingers curl, inching closer to mine.

No.No.No
. He’s too close. Way too close. It’s making me nervous. It’s driving me crazy. I drop my gaze, focusing on his fingers as they glide through the sand, closer to mine.

Fidgeting, I stand and start pacing. Elliot’s eyes never leave me. I feel the electric blue irises touching my skin. They’re burning me. Branding my flesh.

“What’s up with you?” Elliot leans back onto the sand, propped up by his elbows. “You’re acting like a whack-job.”

I’m not a whack-job. I’m confused. So very, very confused. Confused about my feelings for Elliot. My tense situation with his brother. My estranged ex-friend who has been bawling her eyes out. And there’s so much more that I can’t even begin to sort out in my head right now.

“Would you stop pacing?” Elliot mutters revealing a seductive grin. “You’re making me dizzy.”

“Then stop watching me.”

Within seconds he’s off the ground and gripping my shoulders, halting me mid-pace. I hesitate, refusing to meet his gaze, but when I finally do peer into his puddles of blue they burn into my pair of emerald eyes. “Why do you always try to fight me?” His eyes wander all over my face. He’s trying to read me. He’s trying to find the answer that I’m unable to give him. Then he tucks a piece of my loose hair behind my ear. “This will be a lot more fun if you quit resisting and just relax.”

Relax. Hell no. Relaxing is not an option for me. Especially now. Not in a moment like this.

Elliot’s strong hands slide up my chest and rest on both sides of my cheeks.

I’m panting and frantic and before I can shove him away he crushes his mouth to mine. His warm, inviting lips make my mouth tingle and go numb. Then our mouth’s part and well, there’s tongue.

A lot of tongue.

Elliot is a great kisser—no—not just great. Damn near spectacular. His tongue brushes against mine. Slowly, gracefully, and erotically. It’s like watching a ballet dancer on stage, twirling around on her toes in front of a packed auditorium. Each one of her movements is delicate yet beautiful.

I’m sick with emotion. Twisted with pleasure. Lost in a moment, wrapped up in a haze of racing hearts, passionate kisses, and raspy breaths. As our kissing deepens, Elliot moves one hand into my hair and curls a strand around his fingertip while the other one moves down clutching the side of my waist. It’s almost like they have a mind of their own.

Elliot moans in pleasure, his mouth pressed firmly against mine and I can feel the want in him. It’s oozing out of him spilling onto me and filling me up with a burning desire I’ve never had before. He presses against me, a bulge in his pants, and his pelvis thrusts into my thigh.

Oh God. Oh God. Oh God
. His kisses. His touch. Everything about Elliot rocks my world. He’s even a better kisser than Drake.