CRAZY FOR THIS GIRL : A Second Chance Romance, page 15
The idea of how she must’ve felt when I didn’t arrive tears me up inside. How upset she must’ve been; what Laynee could’ve been feeling. So hurt and betrayed that I can’t even imagine how pissed off she is with me.
She’s only proving it by not responding to any of my messages, and I’m freaking the fuck out.
I can’t not see her.
I’m going crazy with the prospect that I’m going to need to go back through another round of training then get shipped off across the world and not see those beautiful blues stare back at me with any sort of emotion—happy, pissed, worried, excited, it doesn’t matter.
I need to see her.
When I arrived in Charlotte, I only had two days to locate her, explain myself, and pray to fucking God that she forgives me. I took a taxi from the airport that cost me an arm and a leg. When packing for boot camp, I brought some of her letters with me, so I have her address. Along with the first picture Laynee took of us as my father shoved me from my bedroom, threatening to throw me down the fucking stairs if I didn’t move.
Checking into a hotel I booked that I asked Laynee to meet me at, I spent my first day there waiting for her. When I woke up with still no word from her from the multiple text messages I had sent, I went to her house, working with zero clues on where she went to school since we’re in early September and if she may be out of state.
Switzerland seemed to never be off the table, and the more time that goes by, the more I realize how much she may have jumped on that opportunity.
And if she did, I’m so beyond fucked.
My chest hurts as I’ve double-guessed everything from what I say or even tell her as the hours go by. Especially after a second failed attempt at Laynee’s parents’ house with no one being home, I go back to my outdated room, hopeless as all hell because the odds of Laynee coming to me are slim to none at this point.
I sent another mindless and pleading text to her, letting her know I’m in town and I need to see her face. The hours tick by slow and painful at the millions of times I’ve looked at the clock. I’m not scared of going overseas as much as I am seeing her for possibly the last time.
I’m in love with her, and I want her to know in case I’m never able to say it.
She doesn’t need to wait for me, I’d never ask her to, but I want her to. I’m so in love with her, it’s sick. I’ve been in love with her since the first summer we met. From the moment she looked at me like I was the biggest inconvenience, it wasn’t much farther after that, that I vowed I was going to marry this girl. I’ve never felt so drawn to another human being in my life, and without her, for the last few months, I’ve been honing misery but not drive. I need the latter to live if I’m going to get deployed. If I want to come back home, I have to be on my game so we can be together.
Taking a shower, I stand under the hot water and demand that life give me a fucking break. To make her come to me because I didn’t do this out of my own free will, but I’m not sure of how much I should even tell her. News reports come in every hour on the hour with updates on the war in Iraq from the news stations, and I don’t want her to obsess over that when she’s going to school to make something of herself.
Getting out of the shower, I wrap a towel around my waist and run my palm over the clipped hair from boot camp.
Looking at myself in the mirror is terrifying because I don’t know that guy anymore. The glorious outlook on life was assassinated when my father told me he signed me up to be enlisted and there wasn’t shit I was going to do or be able to do to get out of it.
Add on that, he said he’d find a way to fuck Laynee’s life or her family’s, so I went unwillingly to San Diego like a good little soldier. I wasn’t going to call his bluff with the amount of money I know he has and the powerful connections he obviously welded to get me into this predicament.
Ripping open the door, I stride to my bed to grab my boxers when I feel the shift—the violent crack in the air. The soft caress of someone else being in the room with me. My heart sprints nervously and excitedly in my chest that my wish has finally come to fruition as I step to my left to look down the narrow hallway at the door to find Laynee inside and staring right back at me.
I don’t dare take another inhale in fear that if I move, she’ll disappear. Those champagne-colored locks drape longer down her shoulders and those tight jeans she’s wearing along with a white tank top have me already hard as fuck.
Try jacking off to anything with a bunch of fellow Marines up your ass.
Some do.
I couldn’t.
“Laynee.” Her name is a filtered whisper that I think barely makes it out to be heard by anyone but me before she steps forward, then proceeds to keep coming toward me.
She’s on a mission; she’s pissed.
However, through the darkness of the hall, she brightens, which makes sense because she was always that blazing element in my life.
She was everything.
She is everything.
“You came.” The relief coursing through me is so fucking strong that I don’t recognize the quick pull of her elbow before her tiny fist slams mercilessly into my ribcage.
“Where have you been?!” she raves at me, her voice cracking into a million and one pieces. Her crystal blue eyes glistening in unshed tears, and my heart shreds slowly like a potato getting stripped by a sharp peeler. Each thin piece are the seconds that have ticked by without any communication with her at all.
“Why didn’t you message me back?” she continues with a hard shove to my naked chest, causing me to stumble back a step. “You’ve been gone for months! What the hell, Cal?!”
“I know,” I mutter, reaching up to grab her wrists but she pulls away at them so I can’t touch her, and I immediately hope it’s not forever. “I didn’t—”
“Fuck you.” Those two words rattle my whole skeleton like a death sentence. A finale to us and everything. They’re so assertive and violent that I feel the lash of them beat across my chest. “Do you know how many nights I tried to figure out what I did wrong? Why you told me you were coming to North Carolina just to disappear out of thin air? How many times I went through our text messages to see if I missed something, or a clue that I was that stupid? Do you have any idea what you did to me?”
I shake my head because I wasn’t on her side of the equation, but I know how I felt. I’m versed in how brokenly crushed I was without her. “No, Laynee…I don’t.”
“Too many times. Too fucking many.” She suddenly pivots on her heels, and I panic, afraid that she’s gonna leave me, so I move to follow. My throat begins to close up, and my stomach knots distressingly before she twirls back around, and that’s when I bump into her chest.
It’s when I do something I’ve wanted to do for real instead of my attempts of getting rid of a pesky girlfriend last summer, playing down that us kissing because it was far from nothing.
My mouth crashes into hers before I can rationally talk myself out of it, cradling the back of her head just so it’ll give me a few seconds of bliss. A tiny fracture of happiness without anything interfering between us.
I kiss her exactly how I’ve dreamt it. The many instances where my tongue darts across her mouth to allow me inside.
To taste her again.
To make this real.
She doesn’t return it right away, stiff as a board against my half-naked body, but I don’t focus on that.
She’s here.
My fucking girl is here.
After every back-breaking exercise in training camp, the sleepless nights where I couldn’t get her out of my head and how distraught she must’ve been, she’s within my hold and reach, and I’d give anything to go back to before.
“I love you, Laynee,” I profess brokenly when I pry from her lips and catch her glossy gaze. I need her to hear me, even if she doesn’t want to. Even if this ends with her kicking me in the balls and fleeing from this room. “I’ve been in love with you since the first time I met you. I’ve been crazy for you since forever, but I didn’t want to mess us up.”
She slowly waves her head back and forth, either not wanting to believe me or that she just can’t.
“I do,” I repeat. “God, Laynee…” She’s more beautiful than I remember. Her flawless skin and that adorable nose. Those pink, puffy lips that beg me to kiss them again until I can make her forget everything that’s transpired.
And fuck me with those crystal blues always sucking me in and holding me hostage.
I’ve waited for Laynee, pined for her, and even tried to shove my feelings for her away, but always failed. It’ll always be Laynee Reese for me.
“I mean it, Laynee,” I vow more confidently. “I’m so sorry for everything. I love—”
“Why did you leave me, then?” Her face twists in pure agony that matches my own. It expels the betrayal and devastation left in its wake, shredding the both of us into tiny pieces. “What did I do?”
My chest twists so fucking hard that I think I’m going to have a heart attack.
Is that what one feels like?
Because I can’t breath right with how she blames herself for what happened, and not the other way around.
I could’ve been the asshole in this story.
I could’ve dragged her along for the ride and lied to her every step of the way. So why she believes she did something wrong crushes me.
“You didn’t do anything.” I bring my palm around from the back of her head and cup her cheek, needing her to desperately hear me. “You could never do anything that would make me leave you.”
“But you did. Why—“
“Can you just be with me?” I brush my thumb along the softness of her face. “Please, Laynee. I just want to forget everything that’s happened. I promise…one day, I’ll tell you everything.”
Her blues search mine, looking for answers I can’t give. She will obsess over where I am if I tell her what’s currently in store for me. I know Laynee like the back of my damn hand. It’ll kill her inside and she’ll never focus on anything else.
It’s selfish.
It’s fucked up.
But it’s the only way I know how to protect her from the madness of what I’m being forced to do. If I don’t come back but in a body bag, I’d rather her hate me than never heal from the loss.
“Where are you going?”
“I…” I lock my jaw to keep myself from losing it, from breaking down and actually crying. I don’t mind if I do, it’s just going to cause a lot more questions. “I can’t tell you right now. But I’m not with anyone.”
“Why can’t you tell me?” Her brows knit in confusion. “Are you in trouble?”
“No, it’s not like that.”
“Cal.” Her hand comes up to grab mine resting on her face. “Please come back with me.”
It’s like she fucking knows I’m leaving to where she can’t come. That without words or any more of an explanation, she gives me the space I need, the time we’ve wasted, and a night without misery.
She gets me.
Even if I can’t fully explain what’s happening, Laynee trusts me.
And I’m not sure if I’m worthy of it.
“I will...one day. I pro—I will.” I lug my muddled brain back up because I need to know... “Am I the only one feeling this? Do you... feel anything more for me?”
She looks vacantly at me, which I guess would worry the old me to death that she didn’t just explode with her feelings or lack of it, which appears in this case.
The only thing I desire to have happen is that she knows I’m in love with her. That I care, and this isn’t how I planned things.
“No,” she finally says in a gentle wisp. “You’re not.”
I bow forward and softly kiss her lips again. Her fingers latch onto my naked hips, searing the skin there and having no idea what she fully does to me when she’s near.
I’ve wanted to tell Laynee for so long that I didn’t want to be just friends. That I wanted us to make a solid goal of her being mine to where I could touch her any time I wanted and kiss her whenever I felt like it.
She’s been an entity that was always there, yet always out of my reach. Every letter she’d write telling me that she was dating someone, I wanted to throttle him.
It had to be because she didn’t like me, right?
Laynee never showed any interest. I never caught her looking at me or taking any initiative to get closer when we were alone.
I was her friend and friend only.
So, I tried to move on. I dated. I lost my virginity. I attempted to move forward and keep my friendship with Laynee strictly that.
However, my heart was barred to the beautiful blonde with soft lips and intoxicating cobalt blues.
“How long are you going to be gone?” she inquires against my mouth. “A few weeks?”
I kiss her harder, playing with the hem of her tank top to give me something to keep my nerves down. I have two options; both of which I don’t like right now.
I either tell her I have a really good chance at deployment or simply lie.
“Hopefully.”
Guilt fills my veins as my tongue licks along the seam of her mouth. She can hate me later, but I intend to come back.
I want to come back.
I need us.
I crave a life with just her and I and no one else.
I fully intend to breathe, eat, and live for Laynee Reese for the rest of my life.
“I missed you,” she mutters against me, sparking a flutter of butterflies in my chest. “I missed you so much, Cal.”
“I missed you too.” I trail kisses down her cheek to her ear. “I missed hearing your voice and you telling me how much of a pain in the ass I am.”
"You still are," she breathes. "But Cal...this—"
"We don't have to do anything." I pull my lips from her skin, suddenly aware that my horny ass needs to calm the hell down.
Straightening my spine, Laynee’s small palm wraps around the back of my neck and keeps me close to her face.
"I'm..." I see her swallow, her blue eyes latched onto anything else on me but my eyes.
I frown. ”What's wrong? Are you uncomfortable?"
She slowly shakes her head. "No, it's...um..." Her focus slices up to mine, and her translucent irises speak of fear and doubt.
I can't blame her.
I disappeared for months with no word or not so much as a fuck you and she took a chance to come here, even though she owes me nothing.
"Let's just talk, okay? I want you to tell me everything about—"
"I'm a virgin," she blurts out, and my whole existence goes rigid.
What in the actual perfect fuck?
"You're sure?" I ask, then quickly double back because what a dumbass thing to say. "I mean…I’m glad. Well, that's—fuck, Laynee, do you think I really give a shit about that? Geezus Christ."
I step back and away from her because she's too perfect for me, and I'm about to taint her altogether.
But, how in the hell is she still a virgin?
My dick won’t chill, and don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled. I'm actually pissed and ecstatic all at the same time because she's not been touched by any other asshole, but who the hell am I to take that from her? Who knows when I'm going to see her again?
"I don't know," she whispers. "I'm not like you. I’m not funny or outgoing. I get self-conscious. and I’m…careful.”
"Good. I’m glad you’re not like me. You’d be annoying as fuck if you were.” The corners of Laynee's lips quirk slightly and I’ve made my decision. "We're not going to do anything."
That slight smile casting off her face immediately disappears. “Why?"
And she just wants to make this harder.
"Because we're in a hotel room, for one, and two, I haven't even taken you out on a date yet.” I rake my hand warily through my wet hair. “Plus, you haven't even told me that you like me yet."
"I do like you," she replies. "You just asked me if I felt the same way."
"No, Laynee," I ground out. "I said I loved you, and I'm not looking for you to say it back to me. However, I'm not fucking you into a cheap mattress for your—"
"That's fine." She lifts her shoulder dismissively like the brat she is. Her tone clips in frustration, as if I’m pushing her away because she doesn’t know how to have sex or something. Like that’d even matter to me. "It'll either be you or someone else. I'm seeing a guy at school and—"
"Who?" I growl out because I didn’t want to think about her moving on or being with someone since I was exiled to the Marines right now.
"A guy in my English class."
I roll my eyes because she’ll get bored in a week. "What, someone that reads as much as you? I’m sure he’ll keep you throughly entertained.”
"Yeah, actually...he does."
Motherfucker.
"Laynee, don't fuck with me." I can feel my blood boil inside my veins so hot that I can’t take it. The sheer craze of someone touching her intimately after she just told me she was a virgin, driving her insane…caressing or brushing any piece of her.
"I'm not," she retorts matter-of-factly, driving in the point that boys in college aren’t boys in high school. Some are older, more experienced, they’ll take what they want. Unlike me. “His name is Troy.”
Let her go. Let her go, so she can move on with her life. You don't need to destroy it.
"That's a dumbass name," I quip because I’ve got nothing else to say. My heart refuses to allow her any leeway to move on without me, even though I know that it's wrong and totally fucked up.
But it has to.
"Yeah, well, he didn't pick it."
"So, you're saying that if I don't fuck you now, he will?” I ball my hands into fists because there is no way that my Laynee is going to give up her virtue to some book worm named Troy.
No way.
None.
“Probably."
Fury rings out in my ears as my Marine training kicks into high gear. The ways I could break bones on this guy. The fear I could put inside him instead of his dick inside my girl. "You like him?"
"Yes."
My nostrils flare at her confession because this would happen to me. Shit happened, and now I’m here.
