20. True Love

CHAPTER 20

TRUE LOVE

? P!NK, LILY ALLEN

I still can't believe he carried me. He not only carried me but also never complained or tried to back out. I'm starting to believe none of this is real and that somewhere between Sam's office and the boba shop, a bus hit me, leaving me either dead or in a very drugged out coma somewhere.

He feels real, though, and my leg definitely hurts. My phone chirps in my pocket and I remember I told my sister I'd get back to her and I haven't. Oops.

BEXXUS

You tell me you KISSED HIM and then LEAVE ME hanging?

I need updates!! STAT!!

I KNOW WHERE YOU LIVE!!

Girl, updates! Come on, you can't tease me with one picture of that specimen and then ghost on me.

I will hunt you down!

Lexi

Sorry! I fell off the bike, long story.

BEXXUS

OMFG, only you could do something as basic as falling off a damn bike in front of hotty mc hot pants at the beach. What did he say?

Lexi

HE CARRIED ME BACK TO THE CAR!!!

BEXXUS

WAHT?! OMG I CAN"T EVEN TYPE.

Lexi

Yeah, he uhm, he pushed the bike and carried me on his back.

It was like two fucking miles. He was shirtless!!

BEXXUS

Did you die? Keep him. MARRY HIM!

Think how much that would annoy mom!!

Lexi

He's really nice, Bex. Like, really nice.

BEXXUS

What does he do? Not that it matters. He could be a fucking cartel boss and I'm still going to be team SMASH THAT MAN and get a RING put on it…

Your finger or his cock, whatever you're into!!

Lexi

You're so ridiculous. Are you sure we're related?

My phone rings and I answer before her name even pops up.

"I couldn't type anymore. I want to hear it!"

"Hear what?" I giggle.

"THAT! Oh, you like him. I recognize that giggle! It happened with that kid in middle school. Devin?"

"Kevin. That guy was a dickhead, though. James is…he's…"

"Everything all the other people weren't. Yeah, that happens when you get out of the bubble and away from the queen dragon mother. You should cover him in fake tattoos and leather, send a pic to mom, and watch her spiral through her own private hell."

"So, about that, uhm, he already has tattoos. And he kind of, uhm, met mom."

The line goes silent for a while, and I give her the time she needs. Mom and I are blissful best friends compared to her and Bex, but Bex will be the first to admit that she never made it easy on Mom. Bex never thought she deserved anyone going easy on her, and someday, I'll admit she's right.

"How?"

"We're working on this project for work I told you about and when we got back from the convention last night, I invited him upstairs. It was innocent and at that point, I'd already told him I wasn't interested. We were just going to go through pictures and brochures."

"Please tell me you didn't give her a key?"

"No, but she was there waiting for me, I guess. She kind of stormed the apartment and played it off like she had no idea he'd be there. She might not have seen him come up, I'm not sure. Either way, he got a front-row seat."

"Was the asshole Jesus freak with her?"

As bad as my mother is, her holy roller husband is a thousand times worse. She needs a therapist and help; he needs jail time. I hope someday he gets it, too. I would give my life savings for a front and center seat to watch his cult collapse around him.

I miss Bex. She is my sister and my best friend. She didn't have a choice when she left, if she had, she wouldn't have left me behind. She tried convincing me to come with her, but I'd started my job at Sam's by then and I thought that would be the light at the end of the tunnel. She has always felt indebted to me since I couldn't continue living in our shared apartment and had to move back with mom for a few years.

"No. I would have sent James out of the fire escape or something if he were there." I search the lot to see if he's headed back, but nothing yet. "She went full rage on him, called him a lot of terrible things, called me a lot of terrible things, then she tried to hit me. James stopped her. Told her to leave and then he took me out for pie."

"Is that a?—"

"NO! We went to the Pie Hole. That doesn't sound any better—fuck—it was just pie, Bex."

"Okay. Well, either way, I like James. You seriously need to think about a restraining order and cutting contact," she seethes through the phone. "I get that you want to see the good in her still. You like to think it's there somewhere, buried under all the bullshit, hate, and religious crap, but it's not. Even before dad died, she was a shit mother. I love you, Lex. I love you so fucking much, and I hope someday you get that through your head. Even Dad couldn't help her."

"She's been worse lately. Calling me at work and practically stalking me. She keeps telling me to get my priorities straight and saying my job is pointless. She wants me to move back in with them."

"Not fucking happening. Next time we talk, it better be less about that bitch and more about how big his dick is and how many times he made you?—"

She's still talking, but I've stopped listening. I watch James walking down the parking lot and I have to wipe the drool off my face. The sun chose just this moment to come out and glisten off his shirtless chest. I had no idea the sun did that outside movie sets. He has muscles. His muscles have muscles. He's got that deep V in his hips that makes me shudder. God I want to lick him like a fucking lollipop. And the tattoos. He doesn't have tattoos all over his torso, but the few he has complement his physique.

"Yo, Lex? Are you still there?"

"I gotta go, Bex."

"I love you, now go get your man," she laughs and the call ends. I hate hanging up, since I'm never sure when I'll hear from her again. I'm trying to count his abs when he opens my door.

"So, the dickhead at the bike shop had this," James says as he holds up a medical kit like he just won it at a fair. "Little shit also wanted me to remind you that you have great tits. I still hate him, but he's still right. Mind if I take another peek?"

"At my tits?"

"I meant your leg, but I'll take either." He blushes and smiles like a little boy who just told the girl next door he loved her. Fucking adorable.

I have no control over my eyes as they bat. "Absolutely, Doctor Barton. I'm all yours." I shift for him, spreading my legs and letting the short skirt spill between them. His eyes grow dark as he watches, mesmerized by the motion.

He pulls his eyes away and crouches in front of me. I can tell he's trying not to stare, trying to be a gentleman. I, however, have no plans to be a lady.

"I, uhm, I'll just…" he stutters until I take his hand, guiding it up my leg and under the skirt. His chest is already heaving when he glances up at me, then drops his eyes. "I guess you were right. You might not be shy after all."

"Shy has no place around a hot shirtless guy who asked me to ride his co-OUCH!"

"Sorry! Shit!" He pulls away, focusing on my leg again. "I need to make sure the sand is all out and get this bandaged better." He hides his face while he laughs so hard his shoulders shake.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's stupid."

"What! Tell me."

He looks up, meeting my eyes with a big, dumb grin on his face before he replies, "Ride his couch, huh?"

I slap his arm. "Don't ruin the moment, jerk!"

"I think it's cute." His free hand slides back up my leg without me leading this time, and I bite my lip. "I'd absolutely let you ride my couch."

A yell down the beach grabs my attention, then I gasp when his hand dives deep under my skirt. There's a devious gleam in his eyes and I expect horns to grow out of his head any minute now as he teases me.

"Angel, you're all wet." His fingers drag down my panties.

"Yeah, I guess I am."

"Lift your hips." I do, and he pulls my underwear off and down my legs, tucking them in his pocket with a wink. He leans in, kissing from my knee to high up my inner thigh, then goes back to cleaning my leg. "I'll take care of the leg, then you."

"You will?" As he looks down to wrap my leg, I pull off his hat and run my hand through his sweat-dampened hair. My nails drag along his scalp and he moans deep and needy. "How's it going, Doctor?"

"Alright, that will have to do till we get you home, since you won't stop teasing." He shifts so his body blocks the open door, and he flips the skirt up and grins. "I'm half tempted to throw your bratty ass over my shoulder, walk you down to the bike shop, and show that little prick that you're my girl."

My girl . I love how sounds with that hint of a possessive growl.

"Oh, going full caveman on me, huh? Careful, I might take you up on it someday." There's a group of people headed our way and I nod toward them as I sit up and push my skirt back down to cover myself. "Should we head out to one of the other shot sites? We might get ahead on all of that today, and then I could go home and start putting things together."

"I'd rather start taking you apart," he says with the slightest edge of confidence creeping into his voice.

"I told Sam I'd start the project this weekend and send him some samples before Monday. That was before I realized any of this was going to be happening."

"Angel, you're gonna burn yourself out if you keep working like that. You really need to take a day off, especially with your banged up leg."

I reach out and take his hand, pushing it between my legs as our lips hover dangerously close. "Come on, we can hit one or two more spots and still be back at my place before dark—and then I'll ride whatever you want, big boy."

"Oh, you are evil. I like it. Alright, fine," he finally says, shifting my legs into the Jeep again and closing my door. He looks at me as he starts the engine. "Okay, GPS says we can get to the Grove in under an hour, which is crazy. Lunch?"

"Oh, we can pick up some food for the apartment there, too. Uhm, can I have my underwear back though? This dress is pretty damn short."

"You have to earn it back."

The surprised expression on my face must be priceless, because he gives me a wicked laugh. "It's broad daylight, and this is an open Jeep. I'm not sucking your dick while you drive."

"What? Not what I had in mind, my little cherry blossom. Close though, sort of." He grabs my thigh and pulls it up onto the seat, turning me sideways. "Scoot a little closer."

His husky voice has my head spinning as I do what he asks. Once he has me where he wants me, he pushes the skirt up again and licks his lips while his finger slides through me. It's like my body recognizes him from this morning and knows what's coming next, and fuck do I want it.

"What are you going to do, James?" My voice, airy and unfamiliar, and the torturous anticipation in my skin, begging to be touched.

He leans over and cups the back of my neck, pulling me to him for a kiss that promises me the world, and as he breaks it, he whispers, "I like it when you tease, Angel. It means I get to pick your punishment for being a tease."

"Punishment?" The word should scare me. It might even be a red flag. But all it does in his gravelly voice is turn me on more. I want this man to punish me. I want him to make me scream until I have no voice left. I want him to pull me out of the seat, bend me over the hood, and fuck me while everyone watches.

I want him to ruin me.

His mouth closes over mine again, but before I melt into him, he's pushing two fingers inside me. My back arches and just as I feel the moan building, he pulls his fingers out and sticks them in his mouth, sucking them clean. I glance at his pants and I can see the outline of his cock straining to be let free, but he's ignoring it, too busy tormenting me with his thumb. He's kissing me again and I feel the delicious pressure of his fingers pushing inside me again, quickly curling to find my G-spot. If this man is half as good with his dick as he is with his fingers, I'm in for a very long night.

Before we can get any further, his phone vibrates, sending it skidding across the dash and falling to the floor. He panics as the screen lights up and he goes to grab for it, but before he can, I see…me.

"What the fuck?" I yell and pick the phone up, looking at myself in the kitchen.

"Lexi, it's not?—"

"Yes, it is! That's me! Were you fucking recording us this morning?"

"No!" He looks scared.

"That is a picture of me, half-naked and on top of my kitchen counter with your fucking hands between my legs! How did you do that? Why did you do that?" I'm freaking out, but I can't stop. I want to cry, I want to throw up. "Is this why your phone is blowing up all the time? Are you fucking sending people pictures of me?"

I grab for the handle of the Jeep and I've got the door half open when he yells out, "It's not what you think!"

"What?" I spit the word out and glare at him.

"Alexis, she's fucking stalking me, okay!" He opens his phone and shows me a string of text messages from an unknown number, all of them time stamped from the last half hour. The last one has the image attached to it, which is bad enough, but the message underneath turns my blood to ice.

Unknown Number

Your new whore has got cute tits…she could lose some weight, though

I bet her stepfather would love to see some of these videos. Maybe her boss, too?

Open her legs wider next time. I'm sure the internet will pay extra for that.

I stare at the screen, the taste of bile hitting the back of my throat. "Take me home."

"Alexis—"

"Now," I snap back, slamming the door shut again and leaning against it to get as far away from him as I can. He pulls away from the beach in silence. My mind races from rage to humiliation and I need to be alone.

When I raise my head again, I see we're only two exits from my apartment and he hasn't said a word since we left the beach. The panic is building. It's moments like this when I wish my sister were here, pushing me out the door to live life rather than letting me stay tied down to my work and spending my whole life pleasing others. She was my constant support, always there to anchor me in chaotic times. She might tell me to walk away, tell me not to give him the chance to explain himself. She's not here, though.

The click of the blinker is deafening, and I force myself to blurt out, "You said she's stalking you. Who is she?"

"It's…complicated." He slows the Jeep as we come to a red light. His jaw is tight and his heart is racing, I can tell by the pulsing vein in his neck.

"Holy fuck, are you married?"

"No, Alexis, I get how this looks and I understand if?—"

"No, you're a fucking asshole." I reach for the door and he grabs my wrist.

"She's… she's my sister."

"Oh, bullshit."

"Her name is Elle. She's my kid sister and she hates my fucking guts. I swear that's the truth, and I didn't know…fuck…I didn't… I didn't know." He runs his hands through his hair and when he closes his eyes, I can see they are wet with tears. "She…she's been texting me for a few days. This morning she sent a picture of us eating breakfast. I thought I could ignore her, but—FUCK! Just…you should go."

I should. My brain is screaming at me to get out of the car, go upstairs, and tell Sam to find someone else. My heart, though, is reminding me how he held me when I cried last night. How innocent and sweet he looked this morning as he stood in my kitchen trying to make coffee. How warm his lips are. My heart is so much louder than my brain sometimes.

"James, look at me."

He shakes his head, "Don't. It's… it's better for you to not be involved with me. I'm sorry."

"James." I shut the door and move closer to him, catching his hand before he slams it into the steering wheel. I let my heart take over and kiss his knuckles softly before wiping the tears streaming down his face. He has no reason to lie to me, and if he'd just wanted to get into my pants, he would have done that already. "Take a deep breath, and count to four…do you know how to box breathe?"

He nods, and it takes a minute before I feel the tension in his arm loosen a little. He stares at me with those sad eyes I can't get enough of and all I want to do is hold him.

"She's threatened me for years. Cost me jobs and friends because she said I ruined her life. She blames me for our parents' divorce and every time something good happens in my life, she's there to blow it up."

"Boy, we sure have some fucked up families, don't we?"

His eyes meet mine, and he's undoubtedly confused. I've never seen a man look so fragile before and for me, it's like looking into some kind of bizarre mirror. Everyone has pain, but finding someone with pain that you truly understand on its most raw level isn't something you expect when it cuts so deep. I see him with his fear and panic and I know how all of that feels, even if it is for different reasons. The pain is the same. This isn't healable. This is the hurt that will stay with you until you die and you either learn to live with it or you lose the fight.

"In the last forty-eight hours, I've lived more than I have since my sister left and I was alone." I caress his cheek. Some people have this innate need to fix someone. It's an entire writing hook that authors routinely lean on. I'm taking this step because I know I can't fix him, and I'm hoping he knows he can't fix me, but maybe we don't have to be alone. That would be enough for me.

"Park the Jeep. Come upstairs."

"I can't."

"You can because I believe you, James." I squeeze his hand and nod to him.

He wipes his eyes on the back of his hand and takes a shaky breath before driving up the block and finding a spot. He shifts into park, and I notice the deep worry crease in his brow.

"Lexi, you don't have to do this. I understand."

"Do you want to come upstairs?" He nods with a sniffle.

I smile, "Good, then stop arguing with me and let's get past this."