Starting Fires (8 page)

His face fell. “I completely forgot,” he said, sounding genuinely remorseful.

As I got out, I said, “I guess I can forgive you,” over the roof of his car. He met me at the front bumper and I had a feeling he was about to put his hand on the small of my back to lead me towards the door. Instead of letting him, I took a quick step away and smiled over my shoulder.

I was right. His hand was paused mid-air, right where my back previously was. He took off his sunglasses and smiled nice and slow. Unable to help myself, I giggled as I walked away.

We stopped at the front door and he fished his keys back out of his pocket, trying to locate the one to the bar. I don’t know why he hadn’t just left them out, but as he slid his free hand around me, I felt butterflies in my stomach and was suddenly grateful. I turned towards him and loved the feeling of his chest against my shoulder. His fingertips rubbed over my hipbone, and I realized how much I’d missed this. Touching. Showing affection.

He unlocked the door and I went straight to his office. All of the invoices, receipts, and deposits were sitting on his desk, so I immediately began working. Lucas didn’t check on me, but I saw him pass the door every now and then carrying things to and from the supply room.

After I was finished, I started printing my work to put in his records, but the printer stopped after the first page. The display flashed red. Out of paper. I hated that. Only one page. It felt like a tease. I went to the supply room and opened the cabinet at the back corner. The paper was on the top shelf, but I couldn’t quite reach it. I was stretching for it, when I felt Lucas put a hand to my waist. He reached up with his other and brought the paper down to my eye level.

I waited for him remove his hand. He didn’t. I waited for him to say something. He didn’t. Realizing that I wasn’t going to turn around, he took a step back and leaned against the table on the opposite wall. My body felt strange. My muscles were tight. My pulse was fast. When I looked at him, the tension in the air grew. We stood like that, staring at one another—both wanting the same thing, but unwilling to make the first move. Tired of my indecisive desires, I took a step towards him.

I wasn’t touching him. Not yet. But my eyes bore into his as I tried to tell him how much I wanted this. Without saying anything, he reached out and pulled me between his legs. Our lower bodies connected like magnets and I inhaled sharply. Slowly, he slid one hand up my bare thigh and onto my hip, pushing it under my shirt to rest on my skin. His other hand cradled the back of my head, and I could feel him pulling me towards him. For some reason I resisted, but then he gently squeezed my waist, and every muscle in my body relaxed. I curled into him, placing my hands on his chest. Focusing on my fingers, I felt the rise and fall of his labored breathing. I looked at his shirt collar. His Adam’s apple. His chin, his lips…

Finally, I made it to his eyes, and saw a hunger. It was intense and wild. He wanted me. And I wanted him. Raising on my tiptoes, I slid my arms around his neck. He put his other hand on my waist, and I could feel his thumbs rubbing circles across my stomach. A cinnamon aroma filled my senses, and I realized that he wasn’t chewing gum any longer. My fingers spread into the hair at the base of his neck and his eyes changed. I know he saw the same thing in mine. Resolution.

Our lips brushed. His nose touched mine. He kissed the side of my mouth. I kissed the side of his. Our lips met in the middle, opening for one another. The feeling of his soft lips sent tingles through all of my limbs.

It was slow at first. Soft and gentle. Wanting more, I pulled his head closer to mine, licking his bottom lip. He moaned and then a dam burst. He pulled me closer to him, raising me up on my toes. I pulled him closer to me, forcing his back to curl. Our hands were touching everywhere, greedy and frantic. Wanting to wrap my legs around him, I propped my knee on the table and he immediately grabbed my thigh, pulling it around his waist. I was floating. No, he was holding me. We were standing in the middle of the room, both of my legs around him and his hands squeezing my ass. Reactively, I rolled my hips into him then left his mouth to trail kisses down his neck, licking and sucking.

“Jesus,” he breathed. My back hit something soft. The couch. He was on his knees between my legs. Needing him closer, I pulled him on top of me and raked my hands up and down his stomach, his back, anywhere I could touch. I cradled his pelvis between my legs, feeling him through his jeans, hard and wanting me. I moved my hips showing him that I wanted him too.

Our mouths were locked, air coming out in quick breaths. He pushed my shirt up over my bra, and then his fingers went under it. With a strong hand, he palmed my breast and squeezed. My head fell back with a moan that sounded needy and desperate. His mouth moved to my neck, every sound coming out of him guttural and intense. He was just as desperate as I was. My hands went to his belt buckle. Our bodies were already moving the way we wanted them to, we just needed to get out of these clothes. Feeling me at his pants, he slid his hand under me and started working on my bra. I could feel him everywhere and I was high. High on Lucas… Lucas…

Oh my God. I didn’t know Lucas’ last name. I racked my brain trying to find out if I had asked or if it was said to me at some point. I was about to give myself to a man and I didn’t even know his last name.

It was then that I noticed neither one of us were moving. Lucas was breathing heavy and looking down at me, trying to figure out what was wrong. “I don’t know your last name,” I blurted. It was absurd. My shirt was up over my bra, which now I could tell, had been pushed and moved to where it barely covered anything at all. I felt like a harlot.

“Burns,” he answered, twirling his finger around the bar. I was an idiot. I’d never thought to ask one single detail about him. I knew he didn’t want to play music. That was it. He didn’t care about playing music.

“And yours is Duncan,” he continued.

“How do you know that?”

“I asked Charles,” he said, still sounding out of breath. He sat up and then helped me up beside him. After I fixed my clothes, we stared at each. Neither one knowing what to do.

“Lucas! You back there?” we heard Kate call from the hallway and my eyes went big.

“Yeah,” he yelled back.

“Telephone.”

“Be right there.”

“Oh my God,” I whispered. “Was she here the whole time?” Embarrassment set in, and I covered my mouth to hide a nervous smile. This was a little mortifying.

“I hope not,” Lucas laughed.

“Me, too,” I said, still whispering. He was smiling and I was smiling. I didn’t feel like such a harlot anymore.

Lucas stood and reached down to help me off the couch. When I stood, he wrapped his arms under my butt and barely lifted me, so that my feet were dangling about two inches off the floor. I draped my arms around his neck as he started walking back towards his office with me like this. “Tomorrow,” he said, “I’m taking you out and you’re going to ask me anything you want. And I’ll ask you anything I want. Deal?” He put me down in his office doorway.

“Deal,” I smiled up at him.

He propped his hands on the doorframe and leaned down to kiss me nice and slow. As he started to pull away, I brought my hands to his jaw. He made a sound deep in his throat and stepped away from the door to wrap his arms around my waist, pulling me in for a deeper kiss.

After he left to go answer his phone call, I was high again. And this time I knew it was on Lucas
Burns
.

 

Chapter 7

A
fter Lucas left,
I remembered the paper and went to retrieve it, smiling as I passed the couch. I was grateful that things didn’t go further. The idea of going out with him made me excited—which I hoped proved that I was finally over everything that Mark had done. It had been nearly four months since I’d officially cut all ties with him. We’d actually broken up around six, but had a two month
maybe we’ll get back
together period. And we might have if Samantha hadn’t told me the truth. I felt foolish remembering how I’d begged him to take me back.

Telling him that I could be better. That I would try harder. That I loved him and wanted to spend the rest of my life by his side. The night Samantha told me about the two of them, I’d been crying on her shoulder, wondering why Mark didn’t want to give us another shot after we’d been through so much together. She’d said that the guilt was too much and spilled everything. I had a rage blackout after that and have no idea what I said to her, but she never spoke to me again. She only gave me sad eyes when we would happen to meet on the steps of our neighboring apartments. At first, I wanted to rip her eyes out, but then I got over it. She wasn’t worth it. He wasn’t worth it. They had both used me. It was after I’d stopped calling him that he decided we should get back together. I never told him that I knew about Samantha, just that he was right—we weren’t good together. Then all of a sudden, he was obsessed with getting me back.

Lucas popped his head into the office just as I was finished printing. “All done,” I said. He looked at me for a beat, and something passed behind his eyes, a shadow of something sad, but I couldn’t be sure.

“I can’t take you home. Something’s come up. I phoned Charles, he’s on his way.”

My face fell. “Is everything alright?”

“It’s fine. I’ll call you later.” And then he was gone. I realized that he didn’t have my number, but I supposed he could come by my house if he wanted to talk to me. Once in the bar, I smiled at Kate as I sat down. “Charles is coming to get me.”

“Yeah, I know,” she rolled her eyes, but I could tell it wasn’t about what I said. “You’d think the idiot would grow a pair. But no. Every time the bitch calls, he goes running to her.” She was drying pint glasses and not looking at me. I was glad. My face suddenly felt hot, my mouth was dry, and my stomach felt funny.

“Who’s a bitch?” I asked quietly.

“Candace. His girlfriend or whatever,” she grimaced.

“He has a girlfriend?” I asked forcefully. She looked confused by my reaction and stared at me as if I’d grown a second head. I wasn’t even embarrassed by my outburst. “Oh whatever!” I slapped the bar counter and stormed off. Charles was pulling in as I reached the parking lot. I stomped over to his truck and slammed the door as I got in.

“Kate giving you grief again?”

I turned all my rage on him. “Why didn’t you tell me Lucas has a girlfriend? I feel like an idiot. This is so fucked up. I just made out with him, Bear. Full on, hardcore made out. We nearly had sex! Oh my God, I’m her,” I threw my hands up in the air. “I’m the other girl. I’m the relationship ruiner. I suck!”

I hadn’t even realized we were driving until he hit a railroad track and I bounced in my seat. His eyes kept shifting from me to the road. “I… uh… well… he doesn’t really… I mean, I guess…”

“Spit it out already!” The venom in my voice filled the car.

“Pump the breaks there, Bird,” he said sternly. “I’m not the one who just made out with you when I had a girlfriend.”

“So he does have a girlfriend? Unbelievable.” I leaned my head back and turned to look out the window. “And I’m sorry for yelling at you,” I said to the trees that we passed.

He sighed for a very long time, expelling all his breath. “She’s a girlfriend of sorts. It’s weird. And I’m not sure I even understand it. Remember when I told you that Lucas dates lots of girls?” I nodded. “Well, she’s like his constant. She lives in Alabama now, but still comes back to visit her family every so often. When she’s gone, he does his own thing, and when she comes back, they hang out and I guess act like they’re dating, but he always tells people he’s single. You’ll have to ask him what’s really going on with them.”

Yeah right. I wasn’t asking him anything. Since she was back, I’m sure he would be spending all his time with her anyway. We wouldn’t be going out tomorrow night. Or ever. He could suck it. I suddenly felt gross. Maybe she thought that they were together and was back in Alabama being completely faithful to him, while he was here living his life as if she meant nothing.

After we made it home, I went straight to my room and took a long, hot shower. I was channel surfing a few hours later when my phone rang. It was my dad’s house number. I thought about not answering, but realized that maybe he was trying to be more involved in my life, and decided to take the call.

“Marlowe! It’s me… Juanita.”

Why was she calling me? “Hey…”

“I never got the chance to thank you for giving me your Lexus,” she said. “I love it. That was so thoughtful.”

“Well, it’s not doing any good just sitting in the garage. At least someone is getting some use out of it now.” Like she hadn’t been driving it all along.

“Yes, well thank you anyway. It means a lot to me. I want you to feel like we can be friends. Now that you know about your father and me, I was hoping we could get together more often. Maybe you can come home over Thanksgiving?”

This felt weird. Just because I was okay with her dating my dad that didn’t mean I wanted her to become a new staple in my family. If you could even call it a family. “I’ll think about it. If school is going good, maybe I can spare a few days.”

“Of course, of course.” There was an awkward pause and I was about to tell her bye when she started talking again. “Listen, I’m also calling about your dad.”

“Yeah…” My chest seized, thinking something might be wrong with him. I couldn’t take losing someone else. “Is he okay?”

“I don’t know, honey.” Ignoring the endearment, I listened as she continued. “As you know, his heart isn’t the best and he insists on working all the time. Maybe if you told him to take some time off he’d do it.”

“I’ll call him.” We weren’t close, but I wanted him around for many more years.

“Thank you,” she said, sounding as if she might have started crying. “He just means so much to me. We’ve been together for over seven years. I don’t want to lose him. He’s all I have left.”

He was all I had, too, and I felt bad for her. Then my brain caught up and I kept repeating
seven years
in my head. My mother had died exactly six years and nine months ago. “Seven years, Juanita?”

“Yes… I… I… I thought…”

“Seven years?” I cut her off. I couldn’t take this anymore. Was no one capable of being faithful?

“Marlowe, I’m sorry. Your dad said –”

“My dad didn’t say anything!” I wanted to break something. “You know what, Juanita? I hope you drive my car off a bridge!” I ended the call and fell back on my bed, clenching my fists. The picture of my mother on my nightstand suddenly looked betrayed and sad. I hugged it to me. She was a good woman and didn’t deserve that. There was no way that I’d be going to Thanksgiving.

I jumped off my bed and slipped into my sneakers, needing to walk off the anger I was feeling. Once outside, I glared at Lucas’ car across the street. He was home and probably with her. I stormed left, not even knowing where I was going. I just needed to walk. To think.

It was nearly dark outside when I found a bench by a park and sat down. I realized I hadn’t brought my phone with me and had no idea where I was. It was sad that I didn’t even know the neighborhood I lived in.

I stared at the trees lining the park, and felt betrayed. And bitter. And angry. Why did this happen? I should never date again. It wasn’t worth it. I thought back to Mark. About how he was my entire world. I relied on him for everything. I’d needed him. He’d made me feel special and beautiful. I bet everything changed in our relationship because he’d starting screwing Samantha. Why would he do that? Why? When he had me, a girl who would have done anything and everything for him right there in his hands? I was glad that we were over, but I still felt betrayed.

And my dad? Why would
he
do that? I remember his relationship with my mother. They were great together. You could feel the love flowing between them. They’d always seemed so happy. I remembered their eyes meeting during dinner, small smiles, and special secrets shared as they gripped each other’s hands. She had loved him. She was the mother of his children and he had done that to her. I wondered if she knew. Did she die thinking he was still faithful to her? A sob broke out of my chest. I hoped she did. I hoped her last thoughts were of the love her family had for her.

Suddenly, it was all too much. I covered my face with my hands and cried. Hard and probably loud. I cried for myself. I cried for my mother. I cried for every girl everywhere who had ever felt the sting of infidelity. By the time I was finished, my chest was heaving and I was gasping for breath. I wiped under my eyes and looked up at the stars, realizing that I’d been out here a long time.

I shouldn’t have left my phone. That was irresponsible. No one even knew where I was. Before leaving the park, I stood under the sky and decided that commitment was for suckers. There was no point to it. You were either hurt or stuck in a shit relationship, but were too scared to leave because you didn’t know anything else. I was done hurting.

It took me a while to make it home, but eventually I found my street. I was walking with my head down, checking mailbox numbers periodically to see how far I had left. Once reaching the house next to mine, I looked up.

There was another car in front of Lucas’ house. It wasn’t parked in the driveway, but in the street, right behind his, blocking it in. Two people were standing by it. The man had his back to me, his arms propped on the side of the hood. The girl was staring up at him longingly. I couldn’t be sure, but she looked pretty. Through the small light of the streetlamp, I could tell that she was thin and had short blonde hair. Next, I heard the man’s deep voice say something to her and she reached up to touch his face. They were about to kiss. I knew it. I didn’t need to see his face to know it was Lucas, and I had no desire to watch him kiss another girl. I had to walk through the streetlight to make it to my house, and I prayed that they wouldn’t look in my direction.

In my rush, I bumped into my neighbor’s mailbox and froze. I don’t know why I looked over at them. There was some strange sensation compelling me. And of course, they were staring back at me. The girl only for a moment, but Lucas didn’t take his eyes off me. “Sorry,” I muttered and started walking to my house. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him tear away from her and come chasing after me. I sped up.

“Lucas!” She yelled. “What the hell?”

I was on my doorstep, and—not wanting this to be more awkward than it already was—hoped that the house was unlocked. The knob gave and I breathed a sigh of relief. In a rush, I went inside and shut the door. He’d only made it to the edge of my yard. Looking out of the blinds, I saw that he’d turned back around and was saying something to the girl. Her hands were flailing everywhere, and I hoped this wouldn’t turn into some type of confrontation. Did she somehow know that we had kissed earlier today? When he walked back to her and they started towards his house, I expelled a breath, making my hair dance in front of my face.

Just in case, I locked the door before going into the kitchen for a drink of water. The cool sensation was going down my throat as I looked out the window over my kitchen sink. All I saw was my neighbor’s house. It was just their siding, not even a window for me to peer into and see a glimpse of their world. That seemed unfair. I decided that this was my least favorite window. It really served no purpose.

The front door opened and I jumped. Looking over my shoulder, I saw Lucas strolling into the kitchen. “How did you get in here?” I asked. He held up a key then slid it into his pocket. “Well, if you’re here to see me, you should leave. I have nothing to say to you.”

“That wasn’t what it looked like,” he said.

“That’s the second time you’ve said those words to me. I’m thinking you have to say them a lot, to a lot of different girls.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, shaking his head like I was crazy.

It made me angry, and I whirled around to fully face him. “Here’s what I know, Lucas. You have a girlfriend that’s hidden away in Alabama. You let strange girls sit on your lap. You let Kate spend the night at your house. You make out with girls in their driveway and act like their ‘clingy’ when they think that there could be something more between you. Oh and how could I forget that you
also
make out with girls in your bar and then leave to tend to your girlfriend when she calls? Am I missing something? Because to me it seems like, yeah, you say that to a lot of girls.”

He put a hand against my kitchen island, and used his other to cut through the air with his next words, as if he was slicing something with it. “You. Don’t. Know. What. You’re talking about.”

I huffed, sounding unimpressed. “I think I know enough.” After taking another sip of my water, I dumped the rest into my sink. “I can’t make it tomorrow night, by the way. Something’s come up.”

He started walking towards me. “Marzy, she’s not my girlfriend. And all that other stuff is stupid. I don’t have to explain things that happened before I even knew you, or while you were dragging your ass.”

“Dragging my ass?” I screeched and took my weight off the counter.

“Yes, dragging your ass. You were into me the first time we met, and kept acting like you didn’t care. It’s not-”

“I don’t care!” I yelled then made a grunt of frustration, throwing my arms into the air. I was letting this man get to me and I didn’t know why. I’d already decided to be through with him and dating in general. “I’m done with this,” I said with finality and turned to walk away.

He grabbed me by the waist and pulled me into him. One of his arms went down the length of my back, his hand stopping at my ass. The other reached up to my face. He was going to try to kiss me. For a split second, my legs felt weak, but then I snapped out of it. “Ew! Lucas!” I pushed him off. “You were just out there with your girlfriend, in almost the same position. What kind of girl do you think I am?”