The Beginning of Us (186 page)

“I…uhh…Maddy…I’ve never ever had sex without a condom before, and I had to have blood work done before I started that MMA class at the gym, so I’m clean.”

Yup – awkward. I’m kicking myself for not having brought all of this up beforehand, but, well, it never really came up.

“You’ve never had sex without a condom? Really?” I don’t mean to sound so shocked, but well, to be honest, he’s had a lot of sex, more than I care to think about. Despite all of that, I trust him; I know he wouldn’t lie to me.

“Never. I promise. I’ll use one if you want, but I swear I’m clean, and if you’re on the pill, there is nothing I’d rather do right now than feel you completely bare as I bury myself inside you.”

Not awkward anymore.

Just hot.

Fucking smoking hot.

“Reid,” I look him in the eyes intently, hoping to convey the seriousness of the words I’m about to say, “I love you, and I want you. Now. With nothing between us. Make love to me, please.”

He’s over me in a heartbeat, and my legs are wrapped around his waist. He leans down and kisses me with all the love I know he has for me. I can feel him prodding at my entrance, and he sinks little by little into me. It’s a full and stretched feeling like I’ve never felt before. My eyes roll back in pleasure, and I thrash my head from side to side at the feel of him entering me.

“My God, Reid. You feel amazing.”

“Fuck, Maddy. So do you. God, you’re so tight.” He pauses for a moment before asking, “Can you take more now?”

“You mean you’re not all the way in?” I didn’t think it could feel better than this, but my insides spasm at the thought of taking more of him, all of him.

“Shit, I can feel you tightening around me. I’m going to move now. Look at me, please. I want to look at you.” His eyes are huge in his face. The blue is only a thin rim at the edge of his irises; his pupils are black pools of lust and love for me.

I look up at him, and he sinks all the way into me. I only feel a brief, sharp pinch, and he stops at the resistance. Once it’s no longer there, he asks, “Are you okay, baby? I’m so sorry if I hurt you. I promise I’ll never hurt you again.”

I can’t form words; there is nothing in my brain except the pleasure he’s giving me right now. I wrap my hands around his neck and pull his luscious mouth to mine to kiss away his concerns. He starts moving – a slow, sensual pace. His tongue mates with mine as our bodies grind against one another. His jaw is clenched, and I see the sinews of his shoulders and biceps strain. He’s holding back; I can feel it.

“Don’t hold back, Reid. I want all of you. Now.”

We’ve been holding back with each other long enough, and right now I just want him to give me everything he’s got. I want his wild passion and heated lust. I would have never pegged myself as this wanton, shameless creature, but he brings it out in me.

At my request, he starts moving at a furious rhythm. When he’s filling me completely, it’s like I can feel him hitting my soul. I cry and shriek his name as my body writhes with the pleasure of a million lightning bolts. He moves a few more times, hard and fast, before he shudders and stills above me.

He is covered in sweat and shaking. I pull him down to me and revel in the feel of his weight on top of me. I wrap my arms around him, and he cradles me in his. We catch our breath eventually. I am boneless and completely satisfied here in his arms, his heart thudding against my chest. My lids are getting heavy, and just as they are about to close, I feel him shift on the bed. He’s up and moving into the bathroom. He’s got a warm wash cloth in one hand and Advil in the other. I move to sit up, but he stills me; he is moving between my legs to clean me. I knew he was sweet, but this, this melts my soul. It also causes me to blush furiously. I know. It’s crazy silly after what we’ve just shared, but it’s just so intimate. I love him for it, though.

When he’s done with his ministrations, he hands me the pills and a glass of water.

“But I don’t have a headache. What are these for?”

“Well…you…umm… you might be a little sore tomorrow, so I thought these might help. Plus, if I’m being totally honest, I can’t wait to do that again, so the less time you’re out of commission, the better.”

His lopsided grin is so freaking adorable; I can’t help but kiss him some more.

He pulls me to him so that my back is to his front and whispers sweet nothings in my ear. He tells me he loves me and pulls the covers up around us. Warmth envelops me, and I can no longer keep my eyes opened.

I drift off to the tingle of Reid playing with my hair, to the huff of his sweet breath against my neck, to the feeling of complete and utter “wholeness” I possess at having let him in.

Chapter 12

Reid

I’m running as fast as my sixteen-year-old legs will carry me. My lungs burn and my eyes tear as the frigid wind whips across my face. Dread overwhelms me and only makes me run faster. The world is closing in around me, drowning me, burying me. There is no light; darkness engulfs me.

I toss and turn in bed, rousing myself from my impending nightmare. Not tonight. Not with Maddy here. Not with everything that’s happened between us. I force the horrors of my past away and breathe deeply, counting backward from one hundred. I drift off somewhere around fifty-five, marginally hopeful that it will be a peaceful sleep.

I barge through the door of my house. No one is home. I call frantically for Mom and Dad, but I know they’re at work. My throat is raw from the futile screams, but I keep yelling. The one person I want to answer me never will. The sound of my voice pierces even my own ears. I take the stairs two at a time. My toe clips the underside of one step, and I fall on my face. My chin is split open where I crashed with a loud, painful thud against the cold, hardwood floor.

My chest is pounding. My ears are rushing with blood. My face is soaked in sweat. Instinctively, I run my thumb across the scar on my chin. It’s nothing more than a thin, white raised vein of flesh. It’s superficial, but the real scars lurk far beneath the surface. Buried. Cold and dead, just like Shane.

I look to my side and see sweet Maddy still sleeping peacefully, curled in a ball. I spoon up behind her, and she wiggles her ass into my groin. I wrap my arms around her tightly, but not so tight as to wake her. Inhaling the coconut scent of her shampoo, a smell that I’ve come to associate with all things peaceful and beautiful, I try to calm my racing heart and paralytic anxiety. I count back from one hundred again. When I get to zero, sleep still eludes me, so I start again. On the third countdown, a fitful sleep overtakes me.

I finally make it to the top of the stairs, and I hear the water running in the bathroom. Fear freezes me. My feet remained glued to the floor beneath me. I can’t move. I can’t speak. The world tilts off its axis. I call for him. “Shane. You home?” He doesn’t answer. He can’t answer. I call for him more loudly, as if that will rouse him from his eternal slumber. Still no answer. I knock timidly on the bathroom door, where I still hear the water flowing from the tub faucet. “Shane? Dude? You in there?” No answer. There will never be an answer. I try to open the door, but it’s locked. I bang harder. I pound my fists into the white wooden door until the frame starts to splinter and my knuckles start to bleed. I change tactics as the panic crushes me. I drop my shoulder and ram it into the door. Still nothing. It just will not budge. I ram again and again. The pain is blinding. I’m pretty sure I’ve dislocated my shoulder, but I can’t stop. I won’t stop until I get to the other side.

The door cracks; I hit it once more, knowing that it will crumble if I put all my strength behind the next blow. My shoulder crashes into the door one last time and I fall through it, landing on the frigid, blood-covered tile floor. Shakes rack my body, and the scream that escapes my mouth is feral; it’s the sound of a beast. I crawl clumsily; the blood-tinted water causes me to fall on my stomach. There’s blood everywhere. I try to convince myself that it’s my blood – from my chin, from my knuckles, from the splinter of wood that’s stuck in my shoulder. I know it’s not, though. It’s his. It’s Shane’s.

I make it to the edge of the bathtub, where his arm dangles lifelessly. Blood is no longer dripping from the severed vein at his wrist. I grab him by the shoulders and try to shake him, try to pull him out of the water, try to save him. His head just lolls to the side. His eyes are fixed in a dead stare. He’s so cold, gone already. I’m too late.

I crumple to the floor and vomit. I can’t save him. I was too late. It’s my fault. If I would have gotten here sooner, he’d still be here. Sobs overpower my body, and I thrash out in anger.

“Reid! Oh, my God! Reid, baby, wake up. You’re having a bad dream. Please, baby, wake up. You’re scaring me. Please!” Her panicked voice pulls me from the bowels of hell. Maddy frantically runs her hands over my face, my chest. She pulls me close into her so my cheek rests against her heart. It takes forever for me to calm down, to regain a sense of here and now, but her fingers stroking gently in my hair, her palm rubbing circles on my back, and her sweet voice telling me that “everything will be all right” eventually work.

I crane my neck up to look at her, and that small movement cause my insides to churn. I feel it coming on, so I sprint out of bed, race to the toilet. She’s next to me in an instant – calming, soothing. There’s nothing left in my stomach, and I’m just heaving above the bowl. Maddy gets up and busies herself by the sink. She’s back by my side in an instant, wiping a cool, damp rag across my forehead and cheeks. I can’t look at her. I’ll break; I know it.

When the heaves subside, she wipes my mouth with the washcloth and hands me a glass of water. “Here, baby. Have a sip. What else can I get you?”

She looks so fragile, so innocent, so concerned. I still haven’t said a word, and I’m not sure that I can. I know if I tell her this shit, that she’ll leave. I can’t lose her and deal with this shit on my own. The floodgates open at the thought of losing her.

She goes into the bedroom and slips on a T-shirt, and hands me a pair of shorts. I slide them on as I remain seated on the floor. I already feel so vulnerable, so I’m grateful that we’re at least covered by our clothing.

After everything we shared last night, I can’t lose her. I’m crying uncontrollably now, and I can’t imagine what I must look like – the word “pussy” comes to mind, but with Maddy, I just don’t care.

“Reid, baby, please talk to me. You haven’t said anything, and I’m really worried about you. Please, whatever it is, you can talk to me. I’m here for you. We’re in this together. You’re my rock and my strength all of the time. Let me be yours now. Please, sweetie, let me take the pain away.”

That just makes me sob harder. She pulls me into her arms, her warm softness surrounding me, enveloping me. I feel safe. It’s a sharp realization, and with it the massive wall that used to guard my heart comes crashing down.

I feel safe. In her arms, I am safe and protected. She’s already shared so much of herself with me. She’s so damn strong, and I am in awe of her. Maybe I can do this. Maybe she won’t leave. I take a deep breath and mentally try to prepare myself for sharing my darkest secret.

“I…Maddy…I’ve never…” I don’t know where to start. It’s something I’ve never told anyone. A “fuck” grumbles out of my chest before I regain my composure and start over.

We’re still sitting on the bathroom floor, the cold tile chilling my legs. I can’t tell her this in here, so I stand above her and pull her into my arms. I hug her tightly and try to pull whatever strength I can from her.

I walk her over to the bed and sink down onto it with her. My phone buzzes on my nightstand, and I just ignore it. The only person in the world I want to talk to is here in my arms.

She cups my face and looks deeply, affectionately, into my eyes. “Reid. I’m here for you, but if you can’t talk, or don’t want to, I understand that, too. Just please let me know that you’re okay.”

I can finally manage a few words. “You’re here. I’m okay. It’s that simple.” She lets out a breath that I’m not sure she even knew she was holding. “If it’s okay with you, there are some things I would like to tell you about. I want to ask you not to leave me when I tell them to you, but I know that’s not possible. I just can’t keep them buried anymore.”

“I love you. I’m not leaving. It’s just that simple, too.”

She nuzzles into my chest and wraps her arms around my waist, and for that moment all is right with the world. I kiss the top of her head and realize I need to brush my teeth. What I have to tell her is vile enough; I can’t do it with the wretched taste of vomit in my mouth.

When I come back to the bed, she is staring at me, wide-eyed and eager to hear what I have to tell her. It’s not an eagerness born out of wanting the details, though, like that of a gossiping teenage girl; it’s an eagerness rising out of concern for what I’m dealing with. She knows what it’s like to feel pain and to not have anyone to unload it on. Those thoughts fortify whatever resolve I had.

We sit cross-legged on the bed facing one another, hands interlocked in a show of solidarity against the ghosts of my past.

“There’s really no easy way to say any of this, so just let me get it all out.  Okay? I’m not sure I’ll be able to get through it all if I have to stop.”