Fragments Of You Page 2

  “Yeah.” I gaze down at the ground as my cheeks flush, brushing the comment aside.

  He’s only teasing.

  That I’m certain of since we were supposed to see this movie last night, but he never called. I wonder if he was with someone. Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I flick a piece of hair off my shoulder. “I’ve wanted to see this movie too.”

  “Not me?” He gawks, mouth wide open. “Shame on you.”

  “Oh, stop.” I poke at his buff shoulder. “You know I never mind seeing you.”

  “Ah. Yes.” He slings his arms around my shoulder for a quick side hug. “That’s better.”

  The sensation hitting me is bittersweet. Over the course of our relationship, I’ve pieced together that the only time our plans don’t work out is when he’s busy with another girl. I don’t ask names, and I don’t dare ask questions, but I’d be dumb to assume otherwise. I’ve heard and seen too much. Whenever someone new comes around, he’s a ghost.

  He shuffles sideways towards me and bumps me with his elbow. “That’s not the face I like to see. Smile.”

  “Sorry.” I hold my head up high and add some bounce to my step, shoving the forlorn thought away. “This week was long, but I’ll pull through.”

  His eternal smile fades for a moment as his lips pull down. “Is it because of work? Is the puppy-hater still giving you problems?”

  I giggle. “My boss never said she hated puppies—”

  “No,” his face beams with a wide grin, “but she did say puppies aren’t cute, and that’s not right. No wonder she’s such a bit––witch.”

  I choke on a laugh. “Oh man, thanks for sparing me the bad language.” He reaches for the door handle, and I waggle my brows. “You know, with my virgin ears and all.”

  He shakes his head and fake scowls, holding the door wide for me. “Get inside, miss.”

  I bite back a chuckle and obey. “I’ll get the tickets,” I say, past my shoulder. “How about you grab the snacks?”

  He winks, “You betcha.”

  Strolling to the ticket counter, I pay. Tightened purse strings still won’t turn me into a freeloader, even though Bentley could buy both. His job pays well.

  He turns to face me as I wind around to the concession counter, tickets in hand.

  “Here’s the popcorn. You want a red slushy?”

  “You know me so well.” Too well, to be honest.

  “Like a book, sweetheart.” The words drop a heaviness between my thighs. “Bet I could even pick out the candy you would order.”

  “Yeah, well, I could say the same.” I reach out for the popcorn, only for him to withdraw the red and white paper sack.

  He cocks up a brow. “Don’t load it up with too much butter.”

  “Shut up.” I snag it from his clutch and strut away, my nose in the air. “That’s the best part.”

  “You’ll make me fat,” he hollers from over his shoulder.

  Rolling my eyes, I’m deciding to douse it with as much butter as I want. Fat. Whatever.

  I’ve been blessed to see him shirtless at the pool. Not only is his frame naturally thin, prone to fighting extra poundage, but he’s a machine. He lifts, runs, boxes, plays soccer, tennis, bicycles… he does it all. Not to mention his hoop-skills. Every time I’ve watched him play, each throw is a swish. If anything, he needs the extra calories, which is why I’m still adding butter when he joins me.

  “Holy crap, Nora.” He slams down the drinks, forces my thumb off the button, and grabs the bag. “I’ll have to eat protein bars for a week.”

  “Don’t be a diva.” I dig my fingers in the bag, grabbing a greasy handful. After eating it, I hold up my hand, showing off all the butter, and moan. “Mmmm.”

  His face scrunches up. “Show some consideration.”

  My eyes narrow. “Maybe if you fatten up, you’ll look better.”

  “Oh, I think you need some glasses.” He swaggers back and gestures at his trim physique. “Trust me when I say that no one complains about this.”

  Well duh. Of course not, but it’s hardly the thing to say. Flirting with him always proves to make things awkward for us weeks later. Bentley always ends up pulling back and avoiding me for a while.

  “Which is why you have me,” I retort, keeping my eyes from crawling over every inch of his delicious body. Especially the pecs his Henley shirt stretches to accommodate, which leaves nothing to my imagination. “Someone has to be honest with you.”

  He barks out a laugh, and I brush past him with a smirk plastered on my face. But the whole time, my heart thunks in my chest, revving up in pace when he catches me in the hall. All I can think about is touching and feeling every freaking inch of him—shirtless, with the zing of his cologne surrounding me. The thought passes through my head every time we’re together.

  Sweet Moses. The things I’d do to him.

  I drown in indecency when his fingers tousle in my ponytail. “You missed a spot.”

  Craning to glance behind my shoulder, I see him barrel wrapping a strand of hair around his index finger.

  “Actually, you always miss this spot.” His eyes squint like he’s studying it. “You curl it, don’t you?”

  “No,” I purse my lips. “My hair is naturally wavy.” I examine the straighter lock he’s just played with. “I guess not all of it is, though. I’ll curl that part next time.”

  “Don’t.” He smiles wide. “Sometimes, that’s the only way I find you in a crowd.”

  My nose wrinkles with the tease. “Like you ever try to find me in a crowd.”

  “Oh,” he bumps his shoulder into mine, “You have no idea.” He steps out, taking the lead to open the theater door for me.

  “Whatever.” Sliding past, I keep my head down, positively blushing over the interaction.

  I’m not in a much better state as the credits roll two hours later.

  “What did ya think?”

  I shrug, trying to ignore his arm that’s rubbed against mine the whole dang movie. It’s another reason why my thoughts have been on a rampage this afternoon. “There were too many car chases.”

  “Eh.” He stretches out his neck. “At least the girl was hot.”

  I snort through my nose, “No comment.”

  The chuckle that pours out of him, warm and gentle, floats right into my chest, and I go fuzzy inside. Chewing on my lower lip, I desperately try to regain some control of my head space as my cheeks and neck burn. I’m usually much more composed when it comes to dealing with Bentley.

  The last two years have eaten away at my resolve.

  “Hey.” Bentley nudges me, and reality floods back. “Where were all your commentaries during the film? You’ve been so quiet today.” He angles in the seat and faces me better. “Are you sure you’re okay? Anything you want to talk about or say?”

  I’m freaking crazy about you. “No.” I shake my head. “I think I just needed to get out and have some fun.”

  “Fun, huh?” Those unreal eyes light up with a glow. “Well, I can give you that.” He looks at his phone. “It’s still early. You want some ice cream?”

  Man, if he doesn’t know the way to my heart—my mouth is already drooling. “I’ll never say no to ice cream.”

  “Awesome.” He reaches out and taps the tip of my nose with his finger. It’s a gesture that never fails to unleash a swirl in my stomach, this time being no exception. “And if you’re still not happy, we can go get hibachi.”

  “Really?” My brows hit my hairline.

  “Really.” He stands and extends his hand out to help me up. “Let’s give you a good time before Monday starts.”

  Excitement rings so high in my blood, I’m leaping out of my seat.

  We walk out of the theater, and I have a huge stupid grin on my face. I get him all to myself. It means I’m assured of a night of laughter, easy conversation, and a sweet drumming of arousal flooding through me as I sit across and stare into his eyes. Being around him feels like I’m with my other half, bu
t I can’t tell him that. He’ll freak. I’ve learned the hard way to keep my emotions concerning Bentley to myself, so now I just take what I can get.

  The sting of being forgotten last night is lessening in my chest when his phone goes off.

  He checks the caller ID and smirks before answering, “Hey, hey.”

  That bright enthusiasm. It never gets old and always makes my stomach flutter. But the sensation crashes and dies when I hear a girl's voice answering back. I can’t make out a word she’s saying, but the laugh Bentley responds with releases a wave of nausea through my core. No. No. No.

  He laughs again. “Okay, sweetheart, calm it down.”

  Sweetheart. It’s an arrow of pain and jealousy through my chest, and the sharp ache rippling deep inside almost makes me bow over.

  “Give me a moment and I’ll be over to help.”

  No. I stare blankly at the gray sidewalk.

  “No. Oh, uh no. I’m just with a friend. I’ll be right over.”

  My body and shoulders deflate at that word. Friend. We should be more, but I’m quick to toss my head back when he ends his call and rests his hand on my shoulders.

  “Hey, I hate to do this, but someone needs my help.”

  “Oh no. I understand.” It takes all my strength to control the tremble residing in my voice. “Ice cream isn’t even a big deal.” The words plow into my stomach, eating through the organ until a pit of emptiness takes over.

  “Thanks.” His smile is soft as he tucks a wayward strand behind my ear. “You’re amazing, you know that?” He backs up, yanking his car keys out of his pocket. “I’ll call you tomorrow, and we’ll do dinner. Okay?”

  I stumble back a step. “Yeah, sure.” My voice quakes this time.

  But he doesn’t notice because he’s already gone—trotting across the lot, waving his arm wildly in the air as his final goodbye.

  A deadness washes over me when his car pulls out the parking lot, and I feel a warm sensation hitting the corners of my eyes.

  I’ve lost him to another woman yet again, and my previous experiences warn me that he isn’t going to call tomorrow. I’m going to sit in disappointment like I do every time he fails to come through.

  And, it turns out I’m right.

  Because as Sunday evening comes and goes, I’m left staring at my phone. A phone that’s been silent all evening. And I’m yet again left wondering why I never seem to be enough.

  Chapter 3

  Bentley

  “Hey, man,” Rich yells from the kitchen. “Want another?”

  “Nah, I’m good.” Too much beer and I’ll get a gut, like Dad. Hell no. I try to enjoy the game on TV, but it rarely ever happens. Playing is better than watching.

  “By the way,” Rich returns, beer and chips in hand, “Joy told me she called you the other day.”

  “Yeah.” I recline further into the couch. “I was leaving the theater with a friend.” Friend is a cover word. My urge to flirt with her makes her more, but she’ll never be anything I touch.

  “What’d Joy want? She called me first, but I never answered.”

  I shake my head. “There was a spider in her shower.”

  He laughs through a mouth full of chips, spewing crumbs. “God, my cousin is so annoying.”

  “What’s so wrong with that?” While reaching for my water, my eyes flick to the game. “My mom is terrified of them. I always killed them for her when I lived at home.” I shoot him a side-eye glance of annoyance after he sits. “Why didn’t you answer?”

  “Dude! This brunette was here. That tight thing was loaded with positions. How do you break that up to take a call?”

  “You don’t.”

  He grunts. That’s his sound of agreement. After that, we both go silent.

  Rich and I hang out all the time, and while I’m not into watching games, it’s a small sacrifice for someone I can chat with. Parties, women, games, and work—it’s all we talk about. Sometimes he gets a wild hair up his ass and joins me at the gym, but that never lasts. He’s trim enough but can’t walk up a flight of stairs without bitching. I can’t understand how he lasts in bed, at least not with the way he brags about his abilities. I peg him down for one round, max.

  “By the way,” he asks, “How was your trick the other night from my party? I don’t know who she was, but that thing had everyone hot and bothered.”

  Shrugging, I prop my hands on the top of my head, interlocking my fingers. “She was alright.”

  “Alright?” He sits upright. “Dude, that girl was hot as fuck. How can you just say alright?”

  I give him my first chuckle of the night. “I don’t know. She was just alright.”

  He waves his hands in the air, searching for more answers.

  “Whatya want me to say? It was like all the other times. She screamed and tore my back to shit till I screamed.”

  A roaring laughter tears from his throat. “You’re such a pussy.”

  “I know.” Fuck my admittance––actually, fuck tonight.

  Everything feels wrong. Tonight, here, with no one meaningful beside me, Dad’s words are hitting hard.

  “I don’t know.” I shoot a glazy stare at the TV with a weak thunk occurring in my chest. “Maybe all this sleeping around stuff isn’t worth it.”

  “Someone’s been talking to their Dad again.”

  “He did ring. I forgot to call my sister for her birthday.”

  He grunts again. “See. That’s why you shouldn’t talk to him.”

  A sigh works out of me as I scrub over the top of my hair. “That’s what you do, Rich. That’s not me.” He laughs in that condescending way, and my blood pressure rises. “I happen to love my family. Lectures included.” And why wouldn’t I? My family is great. I’m the only fuck up in it.

  “Whatever, man, suit yourself. All I know is I wouldn’t let my Dad tell me off for forgetting to call on a lame-ass birthday.”

  My brows snap together. “My sister is eleven, dick face. Have a heart. Plus, she loves me.”

  He snorts hard through his nose. “Don’t know why. You’re a filthy bastard.”

  The insult has me slouching into the couch. “Yeah, I am.” I try to loosen my tense body and chill out, but I can’t.

  Screw this. It’s time to go home.

  I stand. “Listen, I'm gonna call it early. Today blew.” It didn’t, but I want an out. The foul stick up my ass tonight leaves me in zero mood for attacks.

  “Yeah, sure.” His eyes never leave the set. “I’m having a party Friday. Come ready for some pussy. Justin is inviting a shit ton of sorority girls.”

  My face deadens, and I shake my head. He talks about sex like he’s fifteen. I like sex too, but fuck. He’s vulgar. Which is why I haven’t told him about my older sister, Lena. One sight of her, and he’d be urging us on the next plane ride home just to nail her—fuck no.

  He’ll never get near someone I respect or love.

  “Yeah, sure.” I wave on the way out.

  My shoulders hunker down while absorbing the cold. I push out a frosty breath and leave the condo entrance, heading for my car.

  Looking at the stars, I admire their spark. A blanket of twinkles in a dark sea. That’s how Mom always describes them. Half of me wishes I had someone to admire the view with, but there’s no one. I shove my hands in my pocket, and my fingertips graze my cell phone––after pulling it out, I stare at it and pause.

  A beat later, I think of two vibrant brown eyes and a head-full of grippable chestnut hair. Nora. She’s bright, much like the stars above. Forgiving too. A frown takes over.

  I abandoned her on Saturday, then left her high and dry Sunday. I’ve done this to her before, and if that doesn’t make me a dick, then I don’t know what does. I only flaked out because I was weak—consumed with thoughts better left untold. Ones of wanting her scent in my nostrils while she’s in my bed, chanting my name. The temptation was too much, so I ditched her… again.

  Each time I let her down, I expect the chew-
out session I deserve. It never happens—something I’m still not sure if I’m happy or upset about. It makes me feel like I’m less to her than she lets on, but I’m not going to lose her by fucking things up with complicated shit.

  But tonight, I need her. Alone, cold, and disgruntled for whatever reason, I need that spark so bad each pump of blood makes my veins ache. After a few seconds of the uncomfortable sensation, I cave and send her a text.

  Hey, sunshine. What’s going on tonight?

  She usually answers soon. I hope that’s the case tonight. Finishing the walk to my car, I know I’m heading straight under the covers tonight.

  My body is ready to sleep in an empty bed. No nameless faces, no screaming of any high-pitched voices. Just me.

  I’m only about a block from Rich’s house when my phone rings, and the name of my sister, Lena, flashes back at me.

  “Hey, stupid,” I say with a smirk.

  “Hey, butt face.” She whips her response out like a switchblade.

  We both laugh, loving our childhood insults now that we’re older.

  “Catch you at a good time?”

  “Yeah.” I zip around a corner and stop at a light, my finger tapping on the wheel. “What’s going on?”

  “Whole big load of nothing. I just wanted to make sure you’re still alive over there.” I hear the sly jab in her voice. “Glad I caught you when you’re ahem, free.”

  “That’s a low blow.” I squint down at the display but can’t stop the smile. “I hate you.”

  “Oh, yeah…” A laugh slips out. “I know.” The tone of her voice drops, and she clears her throat. “By the way, thanks for calling Gracie the other night. She wouldn’t stop talking about it.”

  “No problem.” Calling can’t erase the guilt that still eats a hole in my chest when thinking about it. “Only wish I hadn’t forgotten the first time.” The light changes, and I go.

  A shift happens, and I feel a weight settle in the pause. My fingers tighten around the wheel because now I suspect Lena did call for a reason. I just have to wait to hear what it is.