Maybe One Day, page 15
“I’m terrified too,” I said quietly. More so of the things I couldn’t control, not necessarily when it came to being with Jace, but I needed him to know he wasn’t alone in this.
“Don’t be,” he told me in a whisper. “You know you can trust me, Hayles, just like you can trust that things are going to be different between us from now on.”
“I know.”
Nothing about this moment—waking up in Jace’s arms—was familiar. We were navigating very new, uncharted territory, but I loved that we were already losing sight of our past and everything that’d held us back from giving this a chance.
My heart rate kicked up when Jace kissed me for the third time this morning. Yes, I was counting. But unlike the other kisses we’d shared, this one was achingly tender, filled with everything unspoken. Hope and happiness flashed through me, zipping through my veins, as he held me like I was something to cherish. I knew some people waited an entire lifetime for that feeling.
Kissing Jace topped my list of favorite things to do. I slid my hands over his muscled shoulders and into his hair again, wanting to keep him in this bed with me, now and always. Splaying my legs on either side of him, I got comfortable. The tips of my breasts grazed his chest, almost tightening to the point of pain. It felt like every inch of my body was on fire, smoldering beneath him like an ignited ember.
Jace’s strong hands gripped my thighs, rocking me against him, and I practically whimpered at the friction.
“Please, touch me,” I pleaded, too turned on to be embarrassed.
Just because we’d agreed to keep sex out of this, for now, didn’t mean that we couldn’t fool around a little. Jace touching me had been my primary fantasy since I’d been old enough to recognize it for what it was—lust. Hot, unmistakable lust.
“I know, baby. Let me get you there.” He reached down, fingers slipping between my legs, dipping slightly, and everything in me liquified. “Like this?”
There was a good chance I wasn’t even breathing anymore. I let out a shallow hiss, the remaining air leaking out of my lungs.
Clutching the comforter, I writhed as his knuckles brushed over my most sensitive area. Of course he was teasing me, drawing this out. More heat flooded deep in my core, the ache intensifying as he tugged the stretchy material of my underwear aside and the tips of his fingers skimmed over the very center of me.
Holy shit.
“Jace.” His name escaped from my lips, a breathy whisper.
Oh God. This was really happening. And it was happening with Jace. All traces of doubt dissipated when his fingers played over me again, his touch and pressure just right. It felt so damn good, almost overwhelming.
After years of imagining what it would feel like to be with Jace, for him to kiss and explore my body like his sole purpose in life was to worship me, I didn’t have to imagine anymore.
“Fuck,” he grunted, placing a kiss against my pulse point. “You’re so wet.”
His thumb found my clit, circling my bundle of nerves, and I was certain I was going to spontaneously combust. Everything in me was so focused on what he was doing to me, the riot of sensations he was making me feel. Then he eased a finger inside me, and I couldn’t think at all.
Jace continued to kiss me—slow, deep, drugging—as his deft fingers brought me to the brink of ecstasy. Tension coiled in my stomach, a pressure that had me chasing relief. My hips rocked against his hand, craving more, and I swallowed back a moan.
“You’re so beautiful.” His voice was guttural, hot in my ear.
“Never thought I’d get to see you like this.”
I glanced up at him, our gazes locking, and I felt my heart do something funny in my chest. His eyes glimmered with need, fueling the flames that slowly licked over my skin.
He slid another finger in to join the first, pushing in and out of me. My nerves sparked and jumped, ready to explode. When the palm of his hand found just the right spot, and he worked me a little harder, faster, I almost lost it. My head kicked back against the pillow, so close to release.
“That’s it,” he said, his breath hitching slightly. “Let go for me.”
Hearing Jace talk to me—the knowledge that he was watching, that he liked what he saw—spurred me on. It was too much. The whole world felt like it was suddenly falling away, shattering into tiny shards. The knot that had formed in my belly unraveled, and I arched off the bed. I came with a sharp cry, shuddering through the strongest orgasm I’d ever experienced.
Thank God we were home alone.
Body trilling with a tingly, sated warmth, I peeked up at Jace.
He was grinning a barely restrained grin and looking at me in a way that did insane things to my heart. Insane, stupid things.
Everything about him swamped my senses.
My plans of going slow with Jace had taken a perfect swan dive out the window. I went to flick the button on his low-hanging jeans, wanting to return the favor, but his hand covered mine, preventing me from undoing them.
“Hayles . . .” The half smile disappeared, but his eyes softened.
“Don’t.”
I blinked several times. “Why not?”
“Because I always told myself the first time this happened, the first time I got to touch you like this,” he explained, expression suddenly serious, “it needed to be about you. Not me.”
“Now you’re going to be a gentleman?” I asked, voice light, teasing. “You don’t have to be. I want you to feel how I felt.”
Honestly, thinking about what we’d just done had me more turned on than I’d ever been in my life, so it didn’t help when he leaned into me again, sealing me against his side.
“Trust me, I already do,” he assured me, and his lips brushed mine in a slow, tantalizing sweep. “You have no idea what it felt like to wake up next to you this morning. It’s taken me a long time to get here, but I know I’m finally where I should be.”
• • •
I couldn’t contain the smile on my face as we stopped in to see Amelia later that morning. I almost slipped in the sea of discarded beer bottles and plastic cups that littered the floor tiles in the kitchen, but I was still smiling—the afterglow of a good orgasm, I guess.
Jace steadied me before I lost my balance, his hands landing on my waist.
“Shit,” he said with a soft chuckle behind me. The heat of his palms felt sublime on my skin, and my brain instantly started playing in the gutter. All I could think about was how talented those fingers were, how badly I wanted him to touch me again. “You all right?”
His voice snapped me out of my lust-induced stupor, and I managed to nod. “Yeah. Thanks.”
Amusement flashed in the depths of his eyes, like he knew where my thoughts had gone—the effect his proximity had on me.
As hard as I tried to appear calm, my pulse betrayed me, pounding erratically.
When someone cleared their throat, alerting us to the fact that we weren’t alone, Jace’s arms dropped from around me.
My gaze landed on my best friend, perched on a stool at the island bench, her head lowered over a bowl of untouched cereal.
She was the epitome of hungover.
Amelia took one look at us, her eyes narrowing. “It’s about fucking time,” she griped. “And no, don’t mistake this as an invitation for you to gross me out with the details. I’m already feeling sick to my stomach this morning.”
I cataloged her reaction—the good-natured teasing—and exhaled.
“Shut up.” Jace smirked, striding over to her in a few quick steps and ruffling her blond hair. “Oh, and you’re officially nineteen today. That’s cool.”
I carefully navigated my way over to them and pulled her in for a hug. “Happy birthday, Millie.”
Surreptitiously, I wrinkled my nose. The odor of booze and smoke still clung to her, and she’d clearly slept in her dress last night—it was askew, twisted around her small frame. Scanning her face, I saw that her gray eyes were puffy and bloodshot. Her mascara was smudged, too, staining her cheeks.
“I know, I know. I look like a piece of dried vomit. After Piper dropped me home, I might have kept the party going for a teensy bit longer than I should’ve. But you want to know what occurred to me last night? This is my last year as a teenager. Like, how the hell did that happen? My life’s over,” Amelia groaned miserably.
There was a soft thud as her forehead connected with the granite countertop.
“You can’t be serious,” Jace commented. When she raised her head and fixed him with a glare devoid of any levity, he mumbled,
“Wow, okay, way to make me feel old.”
“Newsflash, you are old.” She scowled at her brother.
Beside me, Jace sighed.
I rolled my eyes, more than accustomed to their constant bickering. Their relationship was nothing like mine and Tom’s had been. Even though it was obvious they cared for one another deep down, they always butted heads and fought over the most insignificant things. Occasionally, whenever it got bad, I was tempted to say something, to remind them that they should stop taking each other for granted. I mean, some of us didn’t have any siblings at all. But, for the most part, I knew it was in my best interest to stay out of it.
Not to mention, when I thought about it for long enough—drew too many comparisons between their relationship and how my relationship had been with my brother—it hurt in the worst possible way. Because I didn’t get to share birthdays with Tom anymore. I didn’t get to receive funny memes from him or update him on my day. I didn’t get to make new memories with him. No, I was left with flashbacks. Spliced fragments of our past. Most days, there was little choice but to think about the final interactions we’d had. While we’d rarely fought, we had the night he died, and over something so pointless.
I’d spent the last two years of high school trying to let go and heal the brokenness inside me. Truthfully, I was still working on it.
More memories started to creep up the back of my neck, and I was momentarily transported, sucked back in time.
Spinning the dial on my combination lock, I ignored the whispers in the hallway, then the silence followed me like a lingering shadow.
Adjusting my baseball cap, I pulled it down at the bill, hoping to remain as inconspicuous as possible.
My biology notebook was exactly where I’d left it last month, next to my planner. The last time I’d touched it, scribbled half-assed notes in its pages, I’d been distracted, way too excited for Jace’s party . . . and Tom had been alive.
I gnashed my teeth together, tears rushing to my eyes. I knew it was going to be hard, coming back to school, but this was so much harder than I’d anticipated.
Getting my AP English books out for the first period, I tried not to think about the vacant seat that would greet me in my upcoming student council meeting. I tried not to think about the fact that Tom and I were supposed to be giving a presentation next week, but a lump still swelled in my throat.
Walking down the corridor, I could feel everyone looking at me.
Baseball cap or not, I couldn’t hide. I forced myself to lift my gaze, maybe find some normalcy, some reprieve. But all I saw were sympathetic, prying eyes, and I wanted to disappear.
Amelia sidled up beside me at that moment, her strawberry-blond ponytail wagging back and forth. She looped her arm through mine, and I let out a sigh, sweet relief trickling in. I hadn’t seen much of my best friend lately, but that hadn’t been for lack of trying on her part.
She’d been texting, calling—supporting me from a distance—because that was what I’d said I needed.
I hadn’t wanted to see her until I felt better. I hadn’t wanted to be a burden. But no part of me was beginning to feel better, and I honestly had no idea if that day would ever roll around.
“How are you?” she asked softly, then winced. “Sorry, dumb question. Don’t answer that. I just . . . I don’t know what to say. I don’t know how to help. I can’t imagine what you’re going through.
None of us can.”
With Amelia by my side, no one tried to come closer or talk to me.
She was like a human shield, and I was beyond thankful. I couldn’t deal with the insensitive questions or heartfelt condolences. Not when I still couldn’t understand this myself.
“It’s fine. I don’t mind if you ask me that,” I told her. “I just don’t want to have to try to explain anything—why he’s gone, why I can’t sleep, why I can’t bring myself to eat—to anyone else.”
I’d already revealed more than I intended to, but it was the truth.
I was hardly functioning. A total mess.
“Do you want to come over after school?” Amelia offered as we scaled the stairs, heading to class. “We can just hang out, skip home-work, and watch a movie or something?”
“That’d be nice,” I admitted, grateful she wasn’t letting me push her away.
I dreaded returning to a house that was so empty. My dad locked himself away in the garage at night, then went fishing before dawn.
Mom had only come out of her room one time yesterday, which was once more than me.
“Have you heard from Jace?”
I hadn’t spoken to him since he went back to Delaware. Jace was the only other person who had the power to dull this ache, and he’d left. He was over a hundred miles away now, weeks into his second semester. The only decent sleep I’d had since the accident was the night he’d stayed over. Without him, I’d been plunged into perpetual darkness.
“Not really. We talked on the phone last weekend. He’s not doing much better than you.”
It was a cold comfort.
Concern twisted her beautiful features. “Seriously, what can I do, Hayley?” Her eyes searched mine. “Whatever you need, I’ll do it.”
It was a nice sentiment, but there was nothing that could truly help me. That was what made losing someone so uncomfortable and difficult to navigate.
I was silent for a few moments, unsure how to respond.
“Another stupid question, duh.” Amelia’s voice sounded small, and I hated the defeat I heard in it. “There’s probably not a lot I can do, right?”
“You’re my best friend, Millie,” I said, halting in my tracks. The throbbing in my chest had increased so much that I had to take a slow, deep breath. “I don’t expect you to take my pain away. Nothing will do that, not even the meds Dr. Jensen wants to put me on. Just support me, like always. That’s . . . what . . . you . . . can . . . do.”
It wasn’t until Amelia pulled me into a tight hug that I realized I was crying. More accurately, sobbing all over her.
“God, I’m so sorry. I loved him too,” she murmured, squeezing me.
People were watching, pausing, whispering, all around us, but I couldn’t bring myself to care anymore. I focused on the feeling of her arms around me, the smell of her signature lavender and rosemary shampoo tickling my nose.
“He deserved better than this,” I choked out.
My brother deserved more. He shouldn’t have had to die to pay for his best friend’s mistake. He didn’t deserve to have his name leaked to the media. It’d been dragged through the mud, like he was the one behind the wheel, driving drunk.
Even a month later, the accident was plastered all over the local papers, headlining news channels. Updates on the sole survivor’s condition filtered in every few days—a boy who’d been identified as seventeen-year-old Aaron Holt. He was still in a coma, but he was alive.
When I managed to compose myself and muster up the courage to walk into class, it was no surprise that not even Amelia could shield me from my new reality, not forever. I had to learn, somehow, to handle it. The pity that would be eternally etched into the heavy lines of my teachers’ faces. My wide-eyed peers, who didn’t know whether it was ruder to look at me or to look away. Every time I entered any room, I was reminded of who I was—the poor, nameless high school girl the news anchors kept referring to. I’d become a story, an ending steeped in tragedy—the sister who couldn’t save her brother.
The clink of metal broke into my thoughts, yanking me back to the present.
“Are you gonna finish that?” Jace asked, pointing to the uneaten bowl of Lucky Charms in front of his sister.
“Nope. Go for it.” Amelia shook her head, dropped the spoon again, and slid it toward him.
“Great. I’m starving,” he announced before proceeding to wolf down the cereal. He grinned around a spoonful of Lucky Charms, and I almost laughed.
“You want some?” Jace swallowed another mouthful.
Pressing my lips together, I tried not to smile. “No, thanks.” I refocused my attention on the kitchen, remembering the state it was in. Last night must have been wild. “When are your parents due back? Shouldn’t we try to clean this place up?”
Amelia squinted at the clock above the stove. “Oh, fuck.
They’ll be here any minute now.” Springing into action, she knocked over a few bottles in the process, and they all clattered on the tiles. “Jace, can you check upstairs? It shouldn’t take you long. No one really went up there last night.” She paused, as if trying to sift through her memories, and a flush of red crossed her smooth cheeks. “Yep. Should be fine. Hayley, you’re with me.”
I half laughed, half choked at the drastic change in her demeanor. It almost felt like she was a sergeant conducting drills or something, and her no-nonsense attitude was slightly terrifying.
She began scooping the trash into a huge plastic bag, and I don’t think I’d ever seen anyone so frantic.
I frowned. “They knew you were throwing this party. I’m sure they’ll—”
“I sort of didn’t tell them,” Amelia interrupted.
A confused sound huffed out of me. “What?”
“Don’t act so surprised, Hayley. You know my parents aren’t that awesome.”
“For once, we actually agree on something,” Jace muttered, placing his empty bowl in the sink.
I glowered at him because he was not helping.
If their parents really didn’t know about the party, they were going to be in for one hell of a shock. The entire downstairs was trashed—God only knew what it looked like upstairs—and there was no way we’d be able to clean everything up before they got home. Their house would make the perfect set for a deep-cleaning service commercial.
