Keep Me Still (14 page)

S
he
walked away. Just like before. Didn’t even bother with a goodbye this time.

And I deserved it. It’s for the best, I tell myself the next day at practice. Layla Flaherty has the power to ruin me. To turn me into the worst version of myself. I finally cut all ties with the Colonel, so I’ll be damn if I give anyone that kind of power over me again. Not even her.

“Hey, about last night. My bad, man,” I say to Taite while we line up for sprinting drills. “I know her, and we have a bit of unfinished history.” My pride tastes like shit going down, but dude could make my life a living hell if he really wanted to. And I was out of line. He didn’t know I knew her, and who the fuck am I anyways? She’s obviously over it, whatever it was.

“It’s cool, O’Brien. But maybe next time you could just casually bring it to my attention if I’m scamming on your girl?” He grins and I feel like an even bigger dick because Taite’s not Blackburn. He’s actually a decent guy.

“I’ll do that,” I say as I move up in line. But I won’t. Not really. Because she wasn’t really ever mine. And it’s time to let her go.

L
et
her go. Let her go. Let her go.
I’m repeating it in my head like a lifeline as I run myself into the ground after practice. If I’m exhausted, I can’t lie awake thinking about her. About how much stronger she is now. The irony isn’t lost on me. Once upon a time, she was an island, and I pulled her to shore. And now I’m all fucked up and lost in the dark, and she’s the one holding the damn flashlight.

But why should she save me?

“Not that I’m not enjoying this five-mile sprint after practicing my ass off, but you about done yet?” Skylar’s keeping pace with me but his gray practice shirt is drenched. “Because I’m damn sure done.”

I’m not. Not until I run her out of my system. Or at least my need for her. “You can go back to the dorm if you want. Bake some cookies or some shit.”

“Fuck you, dude. Seriously. You need to get laid something fierce.”

I pant for breath but force myself to go faster. “You volunteering?”

“Naw, but I’ll take an ad out in the school paper if you want. Uptight motherfucker, needs a release, preferably of the vagina kind.”

Laughing makes my side pinch so I slow to a stop and put my hands up on top of my head.

“Your Georgia peach not giving it up or what?” Skylar presses, leaning over to clutch his knees.

I don’t say anything, but he’s in dangerous territory, so I level his ass with a glare. Taite didn’t know any better, but Skylar does. Maybe not all the details but the gist.

He doesn’t take the hint. “If you love something, sometimes you just gotta set it free, or some bullshit.”

“I can hardly believe you don’t have a girlfriend,” I tell him.

“Yeah, well, your girl’s redheaded friend was pretty damn fine looking. Hook a brother up.”

“She’s not my girl.” Not anymore anyways. Damn, my side is stinging.

“So I noticed, and by the way, your pussy lips are showing. You gonna do anything about it or what?”

What can I do
? I almost ask him out loud. But the answer’s so damn obvious I could trip over it. Letting her go is not the direction I should be headed.

“I got Red’s number last night,” Skylar continues, pulling me from my revelation. “I could call and see if they want to hit a club or two with us tonight. And while I’m nailing Red, you and Peaches could knit some sweaters together or something. Maybe a nice little satchel for her to put your balls in.”

Fuck it. The worst that can happen is she can say no. “Yeah, you do that. And maybe don’t mention to Red that you plan to “nail” her. She seems pretty lethal. Probably mess you up pretty good if she heard you say that.”

“Don’t worry about my game, O’Brien. I got this.” He’s grinning like it’s a sure thing, but that girl was ferocious as fuck, like a rabid dog that eats balls for breakfast. I have a feeling she’ll chew Skylar’s cocky ass up and spit him out. Oh well. Not my problem. I have my own shit to worry about.

“W
hat’s
this?” I ask my roommate as she strolls in and sets two bags on my bed. One is plastic and from Target and the other is a small and brown.

“My surefire remedy for a broken heart,” Corin says, nodding at them.

I’m still in bed, unwashed and waterlogged from tears I should’ve kept to myself. I sit up and peek in the plastic bag. A half pint of Ben & Jerry’s Half Baked, a box of Kleenex, and a tube of shimmery coral-colored lip gloss. I check the paper bag. A few sample size bottles of liquor stare back at me.

“I don’t get it.” And how did she buy liquor? Something tells me Corin gets around pesky things like rules and laws regarding the proper ID required to purchase alcohol.

“Oh! I almost forgot the most important part.” She turns, grabs a CD from her collection, and pops it in the player on the nightstand. “Don’t worry. I’ll load this on your iPod later.”

“What is it?” A woman’s voice fills the room, and I swear to whatever higher power is listening, it’s my pain personified.

Corin hands me a slim case with a gorgeous and tatted up woman on the cover. Christina Perri,
Lovestrong
, it says. Never heard of it but this woman is singing to my wounded soul like she’s experienced the exact kinds of loss I have. I make a mental note to like her on Facebook and add her to my Spotify playlist.

“You have exactly fifty-eight minutes and fifty-four seconds to wallow in your self-pity. Eat the ice cream, cry if you need to, use the Kleenex.” She pauses and hands me a spoon so I do as I’m told. “And then, when the music stops, you are going to shower. Then we’re going to get ready to go out. Pour yourself a drink.” She stands and retrieves the little liquor bottles from the bag. “Put on some lipstick.” I pull out the lip gloss and she nods with approval. “And pull yourself together.”

I can’t help but grin. “Wow. You come up with that yourself?”

“No, Elizabeth Taylor did. But it works. Trust me.” With that, Corin leaves me alone with my pain and goody bags.

And it kind of does work. By the time the CD ends, I feel like a human being again. Though songs four and five on the disc slayed me all over again and I almost ran out of tissues. I take a shower and call my Aunt Kate afterwards because I’ve been avoiding telling her about Landen for long enough.

“I’m sorry it’s difficult Layla, but you’ve survived worse,” she reminds me once I’ve finished with the sordid details.

“I know. I just…didn’t expect to see him here.”

Aunt Kate clears her throat. “But isn’t it kind of nice to have someone you know there? I have to admit, I’m having a hard time with you being all the way across the country.”

I sigh and bite my thumbnail. “I don’t know. Seeing him wasn’t easy. I don’t know if we can just be friends. Maybe I’m being stupid,” I admit, because maybe I am overreacting. Maybe it’s a good thing that he’s here.

“Layla, you are the exact opposite of stupid. Not to mention the kindest, most forgiving girl I’ve ever known. I’d like to take credit for it except your mom was always the good-hearted one. Hence why she was the counselor and I’m the bitchy lawyer.”

“You’re not bitchy,” I tell her with a laugh. Except I’ve seen her in court and she is pretty ruthless actually. “Just good at your job.”

“I just want you to be happy…happy and safe,” she adds quietly.

“I know, and you’re right. I can play nice with Landen. He means well.” I think.

“I know you can. You’re not only sweet and kind but your strong, probably the strongest girl I’ll ever have the pleasure of knowing.”

“Thanks, Aunt Kate. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Lay. Miss you.”

Her faith in me is enough to help me put on the strapless black dress Corin persuaded me to buy at a trendy boutique downtown. I slip on the heels I wore to Homecoming, and memories threaten to suffocate me. The girl Landen turned down to go with me to the dance had a brother—a big one who wasn’t too happy that his little sister got her feelings hurt. He argued with Landen at the dance then punched the metal doors open to leave the gym. Down I went like the London Bridge.

The feel of Landen holding me in his arms, keeping me still when no one else could, starts to drag me back into that black hole of hopelessness. Corin pours me a shot of something that smells like melted caramel just in time.

“He’s in love with you,” she says from behind me and I almost jab my eye out with the mascara brush. “You know that, right?”

I turn to her as a huff of disagreement leaves my throat. “No, he’s not.”

“He almost broke that guy’s neck for
talking
to you, Layla. Maybe it wasn’t the healthiest display of affection, but there was an awful lot of pent-up emotion in that boy.”

I shake my head. “Can we just not talk about him tonight?” For the sake of my already fragile mental well-being. “I need a break.”

“Sure, no talking about him. Promise.” But she doesn’t look at me as she says it.

W
e
go downstairs and take a cab to some club called Shortie’s because neither of us wants to walk a million miles and risk breaking an ankle. Plus we may slightly resemble hookers in our club clothes. A remix of Titanium is throbbing and pulsing through the club as Corin drags me onto the dance floor.

I’ve never danced like this in public, but her energy is contagious, and I’m shaking everything I have for all I’m worth while we scream the lyrics at each other. One day I’ll tell her what this song means to me, what I survived. But for now I’m focusing on letting loose and having a good time. My parents would want that for me. Though they might not have been be too excited about the underage drinking.

“I owe you,” I shout over the music. A demon of vengeance sent me Landen O’Brien, but an angel of mercy sent me Corin.

“Hold that thought,” she shouts back.

“What?”

“Please don’t hate me.” She bites her lip and I’m completely confused.

“What?”

Corin grabs my shoulders and spins me around. And either it’s the mother of all coincidences or my roommate is a traitor. Because Landen is sitting at a table on the edge of the dance floor with another guy. And they’re watching us. Closely.

“What the hell, Cor—”

“Layla, chill a sec. Just list—”

But my eyes are stinging and I’m plowing through bodies to get as far away from all of them as possible. Is it too much to ask for me just to be happy? But my heart’s an even bigger traitor than my roommate.
You want him here. You’re glad he’s here.

When I come out on the other side of the dance floor, I’m at the bar so I give it a try.

“Can I get a shot of tequila please?” I’m still buzzed from the shots Corin and I downed in our room, but the Landen O’Brien surprise attack special kind of killed my warm, fuzzy tingles. And I want them back, dang it.

The guy doesn’t even ask for ID or check to see if I have an under twenty-one hand stamp. And I do. But the shot appears and I’m going for it.

“I’ll have what she’s having. Make it a double,” a deep voice that still sends spasms of pleasure and panic surging through me says from behind me. “I always wanted to say that.
Make it a double
,” he murmurs in my ear and my knees threaten to give. He places a gentle hand on my lower back.

“Well now you have,” I snap. Somehow the hurt, loss, and feelings of utter frustration I’ve come to associate with him add up to my being royally pissed off. I’ve got all this nervous energy and no place to put it.

“Wanna do a body shot?” he asks, and I turn to see if he’s completely lost his mind.

“With you?”

“Hell yeah with me. Why, you interested in a replay of last night? Want to see me lose my shit again?”

I blink at him. “Not particularly.”

He leans in closer, his breath fanning my face and drawing my attention to his mouth. “So what are you interested in, Layla Flaherty? Because I’m lost trying to figure you out.”

I’m interested in moving on
. The words linger on my tongue but they’re not entirely true.

“So you’ve resorted to stalking me?” He shrugs and I go on. Saying what I shouldn’t say because I’m too weak to hold it all in when he’s this close. “I should say closure, right? So we can both move on. But since I’ve had a shitty day and I’ve been drinking, I’m just going to say what I really want.”

“Which is?”

Jesus he looks good in the deep green t-shirt that brings out his eyes and hugs his broad shoulders perfectly. I let him sweat it out while I run my tongue over my hand, sprinkle it with salt, and then lick it off. Thank God Corin taught me how to shoot tequila so I don’t make an ass of myself. He shifts his weight as I down my shot, but when I reach for the lime wedge I sat on the bar, it’s gone.

“Looking for this?” he says, holding my lime just out of reach. Ugh, my mouth is fighting the urge to pucker but it’s a losing battle. Corin said lemons would be better but I hate lemons.

“Landen!”

“Tell me what you want first.”

“No,” I say, making a grab for the lime but missing. Damn, he’s tall.

He cocks a brow. “Why not? Scared?”

“You’re the one who should be scared,” I say, trying to sound fierce like Corin but failing miserably.

“Oh, I was scared at first. Seeing you.” He looks down at me, breaking through my defenses with the determined power of his glare. “But I’m done with that now. Now I’m doing what I want. I just need to make sure it’s what you want, too.”

“I
want
my lime wedge. Give it to me.”

“Oh, I will.” Landen snakes an arm around my waist and pulls me against him. “Open up.”

I swallow hard, and for a second I consider refusing. But I want that lime. And I want this man even more. Who knows if we’ll ever be this daring with each other again? So I open my mouth and he slips the lime in. And I suck it. Hard.

Heat pools between my legs, and I rub my thighs together to try and calm myself, but it doesn’t work. This isn’t a feeling I’m used to. It’s been a very long time since he had this effect on me. Maybe I used to think about him this way before, once upon a time, but that was a different girl. One who wanted love and marriage and all that Happily Ever After nonsense.

When my last EKG results came back abnormal right after he moved back to Colorado, I decided that girl could forget it. And him. And now I’m looking up into Landen’s perfect face, and I want something else. I want a physical connection. That kiss he owes me and then some. It might break us both, but I’m done being the girl who cries and hurts and longs. I want to be the girl who gets what she wants. For once. And the universe is not my friend when it comes to giving me what I want.

So I’m going to take it.