Completely Consumed (Addicted To You, Book Eight) (3 page)

I pushed him away. “Get the fuck off me, Gil.”

“What? What are you going to do about it, tough guy?” he laughed, grabbing my shoulders again.

“Gil, I’m fucking serious. I’m not in the mood.” I grabbed his arms and tried to force him away from me.

He ducked under and grabbed me by the waist, hoisting me in the air. “Not in the mood, huh? You freaking baby!” he yelled, hysterically laughing. “Now what are you going to do, huh JB?”

I pushed myself off him and he let me go. I stumbled backwards, my face red with anger. “I should knock your teeth out,” I said, my fists clenched.

Gilbert’s laughter faded, along with his smile. “Dude, you’re seriously mad right now?”

“You can’t just walk in here and act like everything’s cool, Gil. You’ve been sick for years. Years. You’ve messed with my head too many times.”

His smile went away. “Don’t get like that with me, JB. I don’t owe you anything, man. I’ve been sick, okay? Do you yell at someone who’s got cancer for messing with your head?”

“You don’t have fucking cancer, though. You’re a junkie.”

As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted it. Gil nodded his head once, turned on his heel and walked away from me. I stood there, feeling stupid, but angry and embarrassed too. It was a bad combination. Part of me wanted to apologize, but the other part of me wanted to justify what I’d said.

I thought about all the times I’d been scared he would die on me, all of the times I tried to talk sense to him, risked my own safety to try and help him.

Meanwhile, he was leaving. The door to the apartment opened and slammed shut as he exited.

I stood there, my thoughts racing. I didn’t want to be the one to say I was wrong, but it occurred to me that this was exactly the kind of confrontation that might make him fall off the wagon again.

Did I really want to be responsible for Gil getting fucked up again?

The answer was obvious, and I bolted out of the apartment after him, catching him just as he went outside.

“Gil!” I yelled, but he ignored me and kept walking.

I left the building after him, and finally got him to stop and turn around. When he looked at me, he had tears in his eyes. “Junkie? Is that what I am to you? A fucking junkie?” he yelled.

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Fuck you.” He tried to turn away, but I grabbed his arm.

“Gil, I’m sorry, dude.”

He glared at me, and then the unshed tears finally let loose and ran down his cheeks. I had never felt so low in my life as I did right at that moment.

“It’s a disease, asshole,” he said, choking on his words.

“I know. I know.”

He wiped his sleeve across his eyes. “Look, I know I’m a piece of shit. Do you think I need you telling me? You think I didn’t know it already?”

“You’re not a piece of shit. You’re my best friend.”

“What does that say about you? A junkie is your best friend?”

I had to smile a little at that. “I said I was sorry. I got mad. I’m having a bad time, too. The fucking FBI came to my apartment and threatened me a few minutes ago.

You’re not the only one with big problems.”

Gil’s eyes widened and his expression turned from anger to concern in an instant.

“You’re serious?”

“Yeah.” I nodded, and in the second, it hit me hard as well. The FBI. The Federal Bureau of Investigations was making me a target. The government was involved and they would screw me good. My life could be over before it even started.

“What happened?” he said. “Tell me everything.”

“Let’s walk,” I said, taking a deep breath. “I need some air.”

“Let’s go down the bridge,” he said. “You know the one?”

I laughed, thinking how I’d looked to see if he was sleeping under it not that long ago. Of course, Gil was blissfully unaware of that fact. “Yeah, I remember that bridge.”

“It’s not too far from here and the ocean breeze will do you good,” he said confidently.

“Is it really a smart idea to go back to that place? Didn’t you used to get high there and everything?”

“That’s even better. I need to remember how low I can fall if I fuck up again.”

So we started walking toward the bridge, and I told him everything, from the beginning. How I quit my old gym and started the new one. Quarry. The Slaughterhouse. The drugs and constant pressure to use them and fight every day. My shitty contract with the UFF.

It felt good to tell it all to someone who I knew I could trust, someone who wouldn’t judge me—someone who knew me.

And it felt even better to have my best friend back in his right state of mind. I’d always been able to go to Gil for advice. He was like my older brother, I looked up to him. And now that he was finally healthy, I could go to him again.

By the time we arrived at the bridge, I was finishing the story. I left out the part about Lindsay, because bringing girl problems into it was only going to further complicate things. But I did tell him what the agents had said to me about possible jail time and the destruction of my life and reputation.

Finally, we walked down under the bridge. Gilbert was quiet, looking at the dirty cardboard, empty bottles and cans, even a few old syringes littering the area. He shook his head, his eyes squinting with some sort of discomfort.

“Can you believe what I used to do? That I used to sleep under here, pissing myself, shooting up, not caring if I lived or died?”

I watched him, wondering what he was feeling. He seemed to think it had been years and years since he’d done such things, but the reality was that it hadn’t even been a month.

Still, he looked good. He sounded good. He sounded right. I wasn’t going to question it. Not now, at least.

“I figured some day I might find you lying here, dead,” I told him.

He glanced at me. “It makes me sick to hear you say that.”

“Sorry, maybe I shouldn’t have said it like that.”

“No, no.” He inhaled deeply. “I need to hear it. I need to keep reminding myself where I could end up if I’m not careful.”

I put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m proud of you, Gil. So proud—you have no idea.”

He smiled, quickly. “So, enough about me,” he said, turning and facing me. “We need to figure out what you’re doing to do next.”

“That’s what I was trying to figure out.”

“Do you want one junkie’s stupid opinion?”

“Don’t say that, man.”

He laughed. “I’m serious. You want my opinion or not?”

“Of course I want your opinion.”

His expression grew intense, his smile faded. “You have to work with the Feds.

You have to do it.”

I stared at him, shocked. “I don’t know if I can.”

“Well, then you’re going to have to get really good at staring at walls, because when they’re done with you—you’ll be spending a lot of days in a cell, JB.”

My insides went cold. “That’s encouraging.”

“I’ve been in the system. I know how it works and I know what these people can do if they want to make an example of you. Don’t fight them,” Gil said. He’d never sounded so sober as he did right then. “This isn’t the time to fight, JB. This is the time to surrender.”

LINDSAY

I felt better as soon as I arrived outside the science office. Right when I got there, Carter ushered me inside and then shut the door behind us.

“Wow,” I said. “Are we doing something covert?”

“I don’t know,” he said, and pointed over to the desk in the front part of the office where the secretary usually sat. “
That
doesn’t seem very covert to me.”

Today, the secretary wasn’t there. But on her desk was the most ostentatious arrangement of flowers I’d ever seen. Pink and red carnations clashed together in a big bunch, interspersed with baby’s breath and yellow tulips. There was a teddy bear perched on one side of the basket. He was holding a red heart that said “ I LIKE YOU

BEARY MUCH!” A helium balloon was tied to one of his arms and it bobbed against the ceiling cheerfully.

I looked back at Carter. He had his eyebrows raised at me expectantly. He hadn’t… Oh my God. Had Carter gotten me flowers? Wow. This was going to be really, really awkward.

“Wow,” I said. “Um, those are… those are really nice flowers.” They weren’t nice flowers at all. But obviously I couldn’t say that.

“Yeah?” he said. “You like those, huh?” He sounded a little bit angry. Which was kind of weird. Why would he be angry about getting me flowers? I spotted a white card sticking out of the arrangement. Maybe he was waiting for me to read it. I reached over, plucked it off the plastic pitchfork that was holding it up and opened it.

JUST SOMETHING TO BRIGHTEN YOUR DAY,

HOPE YOU DON’T MIND THIS IS HOW I’M SAYING HEY!

Was that supposed to be a poem? It was awful. My hands were shaking as I turned the card over.

LOVE, ADAM!

The breath I was holding flew out of me in one big whoosh. The flowers weren’t from Carter. But the relief I felt at that fact was short-lived. They were from Adam.

Shit. Just when me and Rachel had made up, he had to go and pull something like this.

“Wow,” I said as I slid the card back into the envelope. “Did you read the card?”

“No, I didn’t read the card.”

I held it out to him, and watched as Carter’s eyes scanned over the words. “That is horrible,” he said. “Whoever sent that should be ashamed of themselves.”

“Yeah, well, the person who sent that should be ashamed of themselves for a lot more than a bad poem.”

“Like what?” Carter asked.

“Like sleeping with my roommate and then sending me flowers.”

“Wait.” Carter shook his head. “So these aren’t from the guy you were telling me about?”

“Justin?” I shook my head. “No.” I tried to imagine Justin walking into a flower shop or looking online and picking out the ridiculous bear that was sitting in front of me.

“These are from Adam.”

“Adam?”

“Yeah, he’s this guy I met at orientation. I guess we’re friends, I don’t know.

Anyway, he slept with my roommate. Like, last night.”

I turned around to look at Carter, expecting to see a look of incredulousness at the drama that was my life. But he didn’t look incredulous. He just looked exasperated.

“Listen, Lindsay, you can’t have be having shit like this sent here.”

I frowned. “But I didn’t have it sent here. He just – ”

“If you’re going to have your personal life interfering with your work, then it’s probably not the best idea that you work here.”

“What?” I shook my head, confused.

What had happened to the Carter from this weekend? The one who sat in a coffee ship with me and told me to loosen up?

“I thought you were just telling me that I needed to relax,” I smiled, trying to lighten the tension a little.

“Yeah, relax, not start bringing drama into the science office.” He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. “Can you imagine what would have happened if Dr. Klaxton had been here when this arrived? It’s totally unprofessional. It would have looked bad for you, and it would have reflected badly on me.”

“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “It won’t happen again.”

“Good.” He gestured to the bouquet of flowers. “Now please get that ridiculousness out of here.”

I picked it up and left the office without saying a word. And then I was forced to walk out of the science building holding that huge, embarrassingly stupid flower arrangement. Five different people laughed as I went by, including some very bitchy sorority girls. When I got outside, I almost tripped walking down the stairs because it was so hard to see in front of me.

When I finally got to the bottom of the steps, I untied the balloon from the basket and watched as it floated up toward the sky. I dropped the flowers into a trashcan.

And then I burst into tears.

***

I was still crying when I got back to my room. Rachel wasn’t there, which was a good thing. I didn’t know if I should tell her about what Adam had done. What the hell was he thinking? Why would he do something like that? Part of me wanted to call him and tell him off. But I knew that would just make things worse. So instead, I called my mom.

But she didn’t answer.

I threw myself down on my bed and sent Justin another text.

Had a horrible morning. Need you. Where r u?

I closed my eyes, not expecting to get a response.

But a second later, my phone beeped.

With Gil but leaving now. On my way to see u.

Relief flooded through me. He was coming here. I’d told him that I needed him, and he was coming to me.

Half an hour later, there was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” I called morosely.

He walked in, then immediately kicked off his shoes and climbed into bed with me. He enveloped me in his arms, and pulled me close.

I started to cry again.

“It’s okay,” he soothed. He stroked my hair softly. “It’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay.”

He kissed my forehead, then my eyelashes, then my nose and then, finally, his lips were on mine. It was like an explosion. I’d forgotten how amazing it was to kiss him, how my body got set on fire as soon as he touched me. The kiss was familiar and gentle and comforting. I forgot about everything that had happened and just let myself get lost in him.

He pulled back and traced a finger over my chin. The way he was looking at me sent a shiver through my body. “God, I missed you,” he breathed.

“You just saw me this morning.”

“That was too long.” He ran his fingertips lightly over my arms and kissed my nose again. “So are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

“I had a bad day,” I said. “I failed a test. I got yelled at by Carter.”

“Carter?” His body stiffened. “The research assistant guy? He yelled at you?”

He went to sit up, like he was going to get out of bed and go find Carter.

“No, no,” I pulled him back down. “It wasn’t his fault. And besides, he didn’t really yell at me. It was more like a scolding.”

“I don’t want anyone scolding you.”

“It’s not a big deal,” I said. “Please.”

“It is a big deal. No one should be talking to you like that.” His eyes burned as he gazed at me. He was looking at me like I was special and like he needed to protect me from anyone who didn’t realize it. No one had ever looked at me like that before, and the emotion that welled up inside of me was indescribable. I pushed my body into his, wanting to just forget about everything that had happened today and lose myself in his touch, his lips, his kiss, his body.

I ran my hands up under the front of his shirt, feeling the taut muscles of his stomach, the hardness of his chest. His body was so beautiful it took my breath away.

We kissed and kissed and kissed and kissed until I was so turned on I felt like I was going to lose my mind. Everything about him was sexy. The way his fingers tangled in my hair while he kissed me, the way he’d pull back every few minutes to just look at me or whisper my name, the way my skin burst into flames wherever he touched me.

He wasn’t trying to take what we were doing any further, but I wanted him to. I needed him to. I needed to get lost in what we were doing, to forget about everything except for us. I pushed my hips against his, feeling his hardness against me.

Then I rolled over until I was on top, straddling him. He grabbed the back of my neck and pulled me down to his mouth, kissing me hard, his tongue and lips dancing with mine. His hands slid up under the front of my shirt, and his fingers slid my bra down over my breasts. I moaned and tilted my head back. He sat up then, and pulled me toward him, his mouth tracing a searing trail down over my neck.

“I want you,” I whispered into his ear. “I want you so bad.” I pulled my shirt off and tossed it to the ground, then kissed him again. It was like my mouth couldn’t stand to be away from his, couldn’t stand not to be connected to him. If he wouldn’t let me in emotionally, then at least I could connect to him this way, physically. There was an ache pulsing between my legs, and I pushed myself up against him. I could feel how hard he was and I started to grind against him.

His fingers moved over my breasts, teasing my nipples, then moved down over my stomach until they reached my jeans. He unbuttoned them slowly, then traced his finger over the top of my panties, dipping his finger down just inside the waistband. His touch was setting me on fire.

My mind raced and whirled, not able to think of anything except how badly I needed him. I reached out and grabbed the top of his pants, my fingers fumbling with his belt as I tried to undo it.

He grabbed my wrists and turned me over, though, so that he was on top of me.

He held me there for a moment, my arms above my head, his eyes locked on mine. The air was charged with electricity and anticipation. I felt so close to being pushed over the edge that it was almost unbearable.

I tried to kiss him, but he was holding me so tightly that I couldn’t move.

“Please,” I begged. “Don’t tease me.”

His arms flexed as he held me down and I could see the want burning in his eyes.

My breath caught as I took in his long eyelashes, the strong line of his jaw, the broadness and strength of his shoulders.

“Lindsay,” he whispered, slowly lowering himself on top of me. “God, Lindsay.”

I wrapped my legs around him, and we started to kiss again. His hands found my breasts. They were completely loose from my bra now, and my nipples were hard. His hand slid down over my stomach and across my hips, his finger dipping under my jeans but over my panties.

“Touch me,” I whispered into his ear. “Please. I want you to touch me.”

His fingers slid down my hips and then across my leg to my thigh. He was so close to touching me there, in between my legs, that it was making me dizzy. I shifted slightly, trying to move myself into his fingers, but as soon as I did, he pulled back.

“No,” he whispered, then slid his hand back up to my face. He ran his thumb gently over my jaw line. “You don’t get to be in control.”

“I don’t want to be in control,” I said. “I just want you to take me.” I had never spoken any truer words. The emotions I was feeling right then were so overpowering.

I’d never experienced anything like it. I wanted to get caught up in the moment, to lose complete control for once in my life.

He began kissing me again, and this time, the intention behind it was clear. The kiss intensified, his hands roaming over my body, teasing my bare skin and making me shiver.

He pulled back for a moment, pushing my hair out of my face. “God,” he breathed. He pushed the straps of my bra down over my shoulders and kissed my collarbone softly. “You are so beautiful.”

I bit my lip to keep from moaning. How could this boy who I’d just met make me feel these wonderful, amazing things that I didn’t even know were possible? A wave of longing washed over me. It was the weirdest sensation – almost like I missed him.

Which was impossible, since he was right there with me, his body so close to mine that we almost felt like one.

But a part of me knew the closeness was fleeting. Emotionally I wondered if he would ever let me in. Goosebumps broke out on my arms, thinking about what it would feel like if he ever confided in me, if he ever broke down his walls and really just let me in. What would it be like? Would I find the reason he kept everyone at arm’s length?

Would I be shocked? Scared? I didn’t think so. Instead, I was sure that if Justin ever decided to confide in me completely, it would be even more amazing and wonderful than what I was feeling right now.

The longing for that kind of closeness overtook me, and I didn’t realize I was crying until Justin brushed a tear from my cheek.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he said, rolling off me and onto the other side of the bed.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I said. I needed him back, kissing me, touching me, making me forget.

“Something must be,” he said. He propped himself up on his elbow. “You’re crying.”

“No, I’m not.” I pushed the tears off my cheeks. “I’m fine.” I reached for him, but he moved back, keeping a distance between us. “What?” I demanded. “Now you don’t want me?”

He shook his head. “Not like this.”

“Not like what?”

“Not if you’re going to use it to hide whatever it is that’s really going on.”

I gaped at him. “There’s nothing really going on!” I said. “I want to have sex is what’s going on.”

I reached for him and kissed him, this time letting my hand slide down his pants and over his boxers.

“Jesus, Lindsay,” he said, and pulled my hand out. He intertwined his fingers with mine. “Are you trying to kill me?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I’m trying to give you what you want.”

“I told you,” he said. “I don’t want it like that.” He pushed his hips up and buttoned his pants, but not before I got another long look at his washboard stomach.

“Is that what you told Brooklyn?” I muttered before I could stop myself. I knew I was being a baby, but I didn’t care.

“Are you kidding me right now?” He propped himself back up on his elbow and shook his head. “You give me shit about how you want sex to mean something, and then when I actually try to make it mean something, you give me crap about not doing it.” He shook his head. “I can’t figure you out sometimes.”