Come to Me Recklessly (12 page)

“Did you tell her the truth?”

“Ha. Am I here?” My eyes widened in emphasis. “If she knew what I’d been doing, I’d be chained to my bed right now. All she knows is that I like you and that we talk sometimes at school.”

In a flash, Christopher moved and had his face buried in my neck. “We talk sometimes, huh?” he murmured as he kissed along my collarbone. My heart rate spiked, and I squirmed as that flame licked at my insides. I gripped his hair, holding on for dear life.

“I think she told my dad you had been there,” I admitted shakily toward the sky as he continued to kiss me, nudging my chin back farther and farther to gain better access. My voice came all raspy and coarse. “Ben showed up a few hours later. He took me to my room and started in on me, giving me all these warnings about you… the things he’s seen you do at parties and stuff.” I’d tried not to let those stories hurt. Still, they’d stung. “I know my mom and dad had to have put him up to it. He mentioned you by name.”

My parents trusted Ben. His family had been a part of my father’s congregation as long as I could remember, and his father and mine had become close friends. It was rare that his family wasn’t over at our house at least once a week, and my father was always going on that a boy like Ben would one day make a perfect match for me. Ben had always been nice to me, even though as I’d grown older, he still tended to treat me like a little girl.

“I can’t stand that asshole,” Christopher whipped out, pulling back far enough that I could witness his scowl.

I knew they didn’t like each other. They didn’t really run in the same circles since Ben went to another school and was a few years older. But their paths had definitely crossed and the feelings were definitely mutual. Ben had warned me to stay away from Christopher, told me he was trouble and he wanted only one thing. I’d scoffed and told him to mind his own business, and he’d grabbed me, almost pleading as he said I
was
his business.

“I admitted to him that we’re together.”

Christopher blanched, and he edged back a fraction, his eyes darting all over my face. “Why would you do that if you don’t want your parents to know?”

“Because I couldn’t stand for him to say one more awful thing about you. Couldn’t listen to him telling me about the girls you’ve been with and how I was going to end up just the same. I told him I didn’t care what he or anyone else thought… that I just want to be with you.” My gaze softened as I looked at this beautiful boy staring at me in the dark. I wet my lips. “I don’t care what you’ve done in the past or who you’ve been with, Christopher. Just as long as you’re with me now.”

He pulled even farther away. Discomfort covered him, all of him, and he twitched a little, like he didn’t know what to say. My own nerves got all spun up, because I wasn’t sure if I could tolerate whatever it was he was getting ready to reveal. I prepared for the worst.

“You know I’ve never actually had sex with someone before, right?”

The confession slipped out like it was a secret but should have been blatantly obvious, all the same.

He blinked, waiting, and I was blinking, too, because that was not the word around school. I frowned. “Don’t lie to me to make me feel better, Christopher.”

He took my hand and laced his fingers through mine, contemplated our woven skin as he spoke. “I told you that first night I came to your window that I hadn’t earned all of my reputation. Yeah… I’ve definitely messed around… taken things with girls much further than I probably should have. But there has always been something that’s held me back.” He shrugged. “I don’t know… maybe it’s all those talks my mom had with me, warning me I’d end up regretting it.” He cupped my face and inclined his head. “I think I get what she was talking about now.”

Okay, so maybe this news shouldn’t have made me so insanely happy. But it did. I wanted him for myself. The thought of anyone else touching him curled my stomach. Maybe it was foolish and rash, maybe I’d regret it the same way his mom had warned him he would. But none of that mattered. I knew he was the one I wanted to have all my firsts with.

And maybe I couldn’t have all of his, but at least I could have the most important one.

Christopher repositioned us, carefully moving me to lie flat on the wood, situating himself over me. He kept his weight light, but he was close enough that I could feel every hard inch of him. I struggled for my lost breath, and a little flutter of panic swept over me when I realized someplace in me was wishing he was closer, pressing in and taking me whole.

He leaned up on his elbow and brushed back my hair. “So are we going to have to worry about Ben ratting us out to your parents?”

“I don’t think so… I begged him to keep it between us. I told him we’re supposed to be friends and I would do the same for him.”

“Dude hates me about as much as I hate him, Samantha. Don’t think he’s going to be doing me any favors.”

“Maybe he likes and respects me more than he hates you.”

Christopher quirked a grin. “Probably not. But I guess we’ll just have to deal with that as it comes. Your parents are going to find out about us sooner or later, anyway.”

Fear flickered in my subconscious, and I tucked it down. I didn’t want to face that day, because I really had no idea what lengths they would go to in order to uphold their rules, and I knew there was no way in the world I’d give up Christopher. No matter what they said.

Christopher silenced all those worried thoughts with a kiss, one that was long and slow, deep enough that I felt it all the way to my toes.

I released a tiny moan.

Things would be so much easier if he didn’t make me feel so good.

Christopher grinned at my mouth, pecking his lips at mine, almost playful as he began to let his fingers wander just under the hem of my shirt. “Am I mistaken, or are we taking this slow?” he mumbled and teased at my mouth.

My stomach jerked as he slipped his hand around and palmed my backside.

“Y-y-yes… slow,” I forced myself to say.

“How slow?” he asked as he kissed over my chin and down my neck.

“What if I said I wanted to wait until I’m married? What would you think then?”

Playful laughter rumbled in his words. “Then I’d say we’re getting married really, really young.”

A throaty giggle rippled through me, and my heart felt too full. I clutched at his hair, pulling him forward in the same second I tried to push him away. “Don’t you know that’s why all good girls get married young?”

He licked a path along the collar of my shirt, dipping just below it to the very top swell of my breasts.

I sucked in a shuddered breath.

“Are you a good girl, Samantha?” It came out on a gentle tease that lacked even an ounce of pressure, though I knew he wanted an answer, that he was taking his cues from me. How far was I going to let this go? And when?

My voice was thick with fear and anticipation. “Today I am. Probably tomorrow, too. But I’m not so sure I’m going to be when you’re done with me.”

“I’m never gonna be done with you.” He swept his lips up to my ear, and goose bumps covered me with his promise. “Never.”

All week I’d procrastinated. A lot of that time I’d spent questioning myself. Questioning my motives. Weighing my options. I was torn between wanting to beg off and back out and praying for Saturday to finally hurry and arrive.

After work today, I’d gone straight to my parents’, visited a little with my mom before I spent a couple of hours with Stewart in his room. Mainly we’d watched goofy videos on YouTube and joked around. I’d just needed to see him, needed a reminder of what was important, a reminder that all of these
issues
I thought I was having really weren’t issues at all.

Not when compared to what my brother was going through.

Standing here tonight, though, trying to find the courage to talk with Ben, to tell him where I was going tomorrow night, and asking him to be there with me, didn’t seem to come any easier than it had at any other time during the past week.

I pressed my hands into the cool granite of the kitchen counter, scolding myself for being such a coward. I loved Ben. I really did.

No, it wasn’t a passionate kind of love. But that was okay. I’d surrendered to the belief that some loves were better that way. The kind you didn’t fall into. The kind that came with time. The kind that one day were just there because you didn’t know anything else.

But what I hated was the fact that I’d allowed him to make me feel as if I needed to ask his permission to do the things I wanted to do. All of that was on me. I accepted it and I knew I was the one who had to change it. I’d gone into this relationship with such resignation, with such apathy, that I’d given little thought or care to the way I really felt or to what I really wanted.

I’d been too hurt, too overcome, too broken.

Mindlessly, I’d followed him. Let him sculpt me into who he wanted me to be, let him lord and rule, because after all,
Ben knew best
. At the time, I honestly didn’t mind. I’d willingly given up control because I’d felt like such a fool, as if maybe I couldn’t make my own decisions because they would only be faulty and dangerous.

Beyond that, my parents trusted him. They’d been so relieved that Christopher was out of my life that they’d had only encouragement for Ben, and found little concern in the fact that Ben was four years older than me. They’d wanted a real man there for their daughter, someone who grew up in their church, someone who’d been raised with their same beliefs.

They wanted me safe, and Ben had made me feel that way, because there was little threat of him breaking me.

But I was no longer that little girl he’d taken under his protective wing.

It was time I broke that mold and became an equal partner in our relationship. That pathetic period I’d slipped into, one where he constantly coddled and comforted me, had long since passed.

Drawing in a deep breath, I straightened, smoothed out my shirt, and walked toward the family room. I propped my shoulder up against the wall and looked down on where Ben sat on the couch, tapping away at his laptop.

Going for casual, I lightened my voice. “So you’ll never guess who I ran into at Target.”

I didn’t bother to mention I was talking about something that had happened two weeks earlier. Some things he just didn’t need to know.

He didn’t lift his head, just muttered a disinterested “Hmm?” as his focus remained fixed on his computer screen.

My heart skipped a panicked beat before I remembered my mission. I was breaking chains. Reclaiming me.

“Aly Moore. Well, not Moore anymore. She’s married and has a baby. Her name is Aly Holt now.”

Ben’s attention flew to me, his expression screwed up in disgust. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

Well, that got his attention.
 

“What did you just say?” he accused.

“I said her new name is Aleena Holt.”

Anger burned across his face. Jaw ticking, he ground his teeth. “Aleena Moore?” His words were cold and one hundred percent an insinuation.

A surge of defensiveness rose in me, pressing full, because he said her name as if it was dirty. There was nothing
dirty
about Aly. I was certain she was one of the nicest, most genuine people I’d ever met. Insolence lifted my chin, and I crossed my arms over my chest. “Yeah. Aleena Moore.
Holt
now.”

“You mean the sister of that bastard who took advantage of you? The asshole who manipulated you? Ripped you up and left you in a million broken pieces. His sister? That Moore? Is that who you’re talking about?” None of them were questions. It was all formed as one long accusation, as if I was completely ignorant. Incompetent. Clueless.

Just like he always wanted me to believe.

So, yeah, I’d been naive.

That didn’t mean I couldn’t make my own decisions now.

“Um, yeah,
that
Moore,” I said, my own anger oozing out.

God, he could be such a jerk.

“Well, I hope that interaction was short, because I don’t want you anywhere near a Moore… regardless of what her last name is now.” A disdainful huff bled from him and he turned back to his computer, banging at the keys as he spewed his own ignorance. “That girl must be just as clueless as you. Jared Holt wasn’t any better than that punk-ass kid who thought he was going to use you up. You’re lucky I was there to save you. Too bad she didn’t get out so easily.”

Tears pricked at my eyes, and I fisted my hands at my sides.

So easily?

Damn him. His assumptions pissed me off. Ben was the clueless one. I didn’t think I’d ever seen a happier couple than Jared and Aly. Besides, I’d just wanted to have
one
normal conversation with him. One mature conversation. One time when he would listen to me and not talk over me or down to me.

That seed of hatred I’d always harbored for him threatened to sprout, trembling somewhere in the fragmented place in my spirit. Christopher had wronged me so deeply it was scored forever on my heart, a wound so deep I wasn’t sure I could ever fully forgive him. But I knew just as deeply that Ben had taken advantage of the situation, taken advantage of me, swooping in when he knew he’d have little resistance.

Sighing, Ben pushed the laptop toward his knees. He rubbed at his eyes with the pads of his fingers. He dropped them and stared across at me. “Just trust me on this, Sam. You shouldn’t have stopped to talk to her in the first place.” His expression softened into a plea. “The only thing in this world I care about is you, and I can’t stand the thought of you getting dragged into old memories that can only hurt you. I was there, remember? And I know what you went through. Just forget that you saw her and I’ll forget that you even mentioned it.”

The last sounded almost like a threat.

I blinked away the brimming moisture in my eyes, and somewhere inside me, I felt resentment taking root.

My thoughts spun hard and fast, contemplating my direction, what I wanted to say. My heart hurt when I finally spoke. “It wasn’t a big deal, Ben,” I lied softly, quietly, because that was something I never wanted to be. A liar. But I didn’t know how to go toe-to-toe with him on this. I really didn’t even know where I stood. Every reservation I’d had about going back to Aly’s surfaced, but it all floated on my determination to give this a try. Like Aly had said, I needed to let this bitterness go. To free myself.

And if this was a mistake? Then it was my mistake. One I would own. If Ben couldn’t even allow me to get one sentence out without jumping all over my
stupidity
, then he didn’t deserve to be a part of it.

“I just was telling you I ran into someone I knew from the old neighborhood,” I continued, my tone lifting in nonchalance, as if that meeting hadn’t marked a shift in my world. What that change would be, I still had no clue. But I felt that anxious anticipation proclaiming that things were never going to be the same.

He looked at me as if maybe he didn’t trust me. “Just be careful, Sam.”

I nodded and changed the subject. “So are you hungry? Do you want me to make something or do you want to go out?” I turned to head into the kitchen, then paused to look back over my shoulder, my mouth going dry. “Oh… and tomorrow night I’m going over to Cici’s. My friend from work? It’s her birthday and she’s having her girlfriends over for a couple drinks.” Guilt closed off my throat, and I quickly turned to head into the kitchen.

Christopher had always made me into a liar.

Guess I learned from the best.

Because in the end, that’s what he’d turned out to be.

The most ruthless kind of liar.

Saturday evening I spent more time getting ready than was wise. Standing in front of the full-length mirror in my bathroom, I stared at my reflection. Maybe if I studied it hard enough, I would find some sort of clarity.

This morning I’d texted Aly asking if I could bring anything, what to wear, and what Courtney might like, since the last time I’d seen her she hadn’t even turned ten.

Aly had instantly replied, and it was as if I could sense her warmth in the letters that made up the words of her text. And again, it had reaffirmed that I
liked
her, that I felt a connection with her that I had with few other friends. She made me feel as if I belonged somewhere, when usually I remained on the fringes, too cautious to ever step into the fray.

For the first time in such a long time, I wanted to get mixed up in it.

My phone buzzed with
that
tone, and I smiled as I grabbed it from the bathroom counter. I pressed down to accept his Snap.

Stewart’s face was all lit up, superclose to the camera, his eyes bugging out as he widened them as far as they would go. Scrawled across them was,
What’s up, Crazy Lady?

My heart pumped true with affection.

In the full-length mirror, I snapped my own picture, a straight-up mirror selfie of my party-ready persona. So maybe I typically didn’t go for all of this egotistical self-love. But I figured if anyone would appreciate my efforts, it was Stewart, the little nag, always telling me to get out more, even though there wasn’t a chance in this world I’d let on to where I was really heading.

Aly had told me they were all dressing up a little to celebrate. Taking into consideration that it was hot, I picked out my nicest pair of black shorts, fitted around the waist and flared at my thighs, a silky, dark blue pullover blouse, the short sleeves all billowy and soft, and a pair of high platform wedges to set it all off. My hair was pressed into long sheets and my makeup was soft, my red lips coated in clear, shimmery gloss, pursed in their permanent pout.

I typed across my picture and pressed send.

Livin’ it up tonight! #BirthdayParty
 

Instead of a Snap, my phone dinged with a regular old text.

Sexy bitch.
 

Ha,
I tapped back out, unable to contain my grin.

Immediately, he texted back.
No, seriously, you look beautiful.

The way I looked bolstered my confidence, even if my outward appearance didn’t come close to matching the mayhem that was staging a frontline war in my mind.

But I felt as if this was my redo. A chance to go back to that moment that had changed me so drastically and start again. To prove to myself that I was strong. A survivor. But also, that I was full of forgiveness and I could stand in a room with the man who’d hurt me more than anyone else ever had and not look on him with bitterness and blame.

I wanted to be that girl.

One without regrets.

I doubted I could achieve all of that tonight. Finding that strength and letting go of all the pain I’d held on to would take effort and wouldn’t come in a passing day. But it was a start, and I knew the first step was facing Christopher. Facing the way he made me feel. All of it – the chaos and confusion and uncertainty. The anger and the hate. The passion and the need and those flickers of a naive young love that had never dimmed or died.

It was time.

Another text buzzed.

Don’t forget about little ol’ me when the man of your dreams sees you and sweeps you off your feet tonight
…
We have a date tomorrow
…
My house. Noon. Expect the time of your life ;)
 

I shook my head, my fingers flying across the pad.

Um
…
Ben
…
remember?
 

His reply was almost instant.

Riiight
…
 

I felt his eye roll from all the way across town.

Stewart had this overly dramatic, overtly romantic notion for my life. To Stewart, Ben didn’t fit the bill. I was pretty sure the kid didn’t even like him, and he’d get all bristly and quiet whenever Ben stopped by to spend time with him. Lately those visits had become few and even farther between.

I didn’t quite get Ben. He’d been the one with that amazingly profound gesture for Stewart. But once Stewart got sick again, Ben seemed not to want anything to do with him at all.

When Ben admitted he was the one who’d written the letter that was responsible for the book that had become Stewart’s most prized possession, I’d finally allowed myself to give in and let go. Ben and I had seemed inevitable, anyway, and if any one person could be that thoughtful, how could I continue to turn him away?

That was the kind of man I wanted.

A thoughtful one. Kind and considerate.

I’d once believed Christopher to be that… but as it’s said, actions speak so much louder than words.

My response was simple yet somehow painful.

Ben is a good man.
 

Another Snap came through. I clicked into the message, and this time it wasn’t my brother’s face, but a picture of a girl being spun around in a field, her long hair flying behind her as she laughed toward the sky, held in her lover’s arms. Across it in a pretty script, it read,
Every girl deserves to be swept off her feet.

I didn’t respond, because what could I possibly say? Christopher had swept me off my feet and then tossed me right on my ass. I couldn’t have fallen any harder. Stewart couldn’t understand that. I knew he’d looked up to Christopher so much, thought of him as the cool guy who’d joke around with him, make him laugh. Viewed him as someone who didn’t treat him as if he was any different from everyone else. Loved him, even.