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I’m hoping she takes a minute after tonight to think about everything I told her regarding why I couldn’t go to college with her and had to let her go. As soon as my lips crash against hers, I know there’s no way I’m letting her leave without taking another piece of my heart with her.
Chapter Nine
Savanna
Ithought it was in my head all those years ago. The longer I went without kissing Dawson Travis, the more I thought I’d imagined how amazing his lips felt against mine, but that’s proven wrong the moment they crash against mine. As much as I want to blame this moment on the alcohol, although it was part of the reason I let it happen so easily, I’ve been sober since we walked through his front door.
It wasn’t hard to catch the small details in his house that matched things we talked about in high school — the swing nailed to the front porch that faced the trees in the distance, making it a beautiful spot for a sunrise, no doubt, or the large window in his living room with a seat built under it. There’s no way he got this place with me in mind, not when I hadn’t talked to him in years, so I quickly pushed those thoughts out my head and focused on what we came to his place for.
Now, with his lips sucking every inch of my soul from my body, I’m desperately wishing I had taken the time to ask him about those details. It doesn’t matter how long I’ve been telling myself that all the feelings I once had for him weren’t there any more or that it would only take a little longer for them to go away; being here with him is bringing long buried feelings to the surface.
When I let him bring me to his house, this isn’t what I expected. I thought that it would prove everything I felt for him years ago was nothing more than puppy love compared to the real thing, and that I still had a chance to find true love out there somewhere. Instead, I’m zapped with the harsh reality that nothing will ever feel as consuming as it does with him.
With each touch of his hand against my skin, my hips rock against him, feral for him to be inside of me, and I can’t seem to stop it no matter how hard I try. He pulls away from me to place kisses along my jaw, moving lower until he reaches my breasts. I gasp when his tongue circles around my nipple while his fingers pinch the other one, and I arch my back into him.
More.
I need more.
This was supposed to get him out of my system, not leave me craving more of him. As if reading my mind, he continues his trek down my body until his face is between my thighs and his tongue flattens against my slick center. Every molecule in my body is aware of what he’s doing to me, and with each flick of histongue against my swollen bud, the walls I built around my heart are cracking.
How much longer until they turn to ash and I let myself open to the idea of loving him again? I squeeze my eyes shut, pushing those thoughts away, then slowly open them back up to find Dawson staring at me. He doesn’t change his pace while he does either, only getting more hungry for me, and the dark look in his eyes has my pleasure sky-rocketing to a height I never thought it could reach.
No one has ever been able to get my release over the edge this quickly, or without my help, so this should be a sure sign that I’m fucked — figuratively and literally. I clamp my mouth shut as I ride the wave of my release against his face, my eyes rolling into the back of my head as I do, then I’m sagging against the mattress.
He crawls over me with a smile, pushing my legs further apart before reaching into the nightstand next to his bed and ripping a condom open with his teeth. This is what I wanted, right? I thought it was what I needed to finally get over him, to move on with my life, but I know that if we do this, I’m never going to be the same again.
Before he can roll the condom over his length, I bring my hand to his wrist and shake my head. He frowns, but listens to my silent plea and throws the condom onto the floor. Tears are stinging my eyes and I know it’s time for me to go. I don’t say anything as I stumble off the bed and snatch my clothes from the floor. I quickly dress and then grab my phone from my purse and call an Uber.
I’m pretty sure he calls my name behind me, but I can’t turn around right now. If I see the look of disappointment on his face, I’m not sure I’ll ever recover. I shouldn’t be the one who doesn’t want him upset; he hurt me enough for the both of us and it’s infuriating. What if everything he told me tonight is true, what do I do then? Could I still be mad at him?
As soon as I have the last of my clothes on, headlights shine through the large window in the living room, and I rush out of the house with my shoes hanging from my fingers. Just as I get the back door closed to my ride, my gaze collides with Dawson’s where he stands on his front porch. He’s got his arms folded behind his head and this haunted look in his eyes as the car pulls away from the house, leaving him standing alone outside and probably wondering what the hell just happened.
There’s a string of texts from Autumn wondering where the hell I am and why I left with Dawson instead of Sean, but I don’t have the energy to tell her anything right now. All I want is to get home, curl up on the couch like I’ve done every night since I got back, and pray I don’t dream of Dawson when I close my eyes.
Bethany is standing above me the following morning, gazing at me curiously while Easton stands next to her with his arms crossed over his chest. I lift from the couch slowly, groaning at the pounding taking place at the base of my skull, and sigh in relief when Easton shoves a glass of water with Advil in front of my face.
“Thanks,” I mutter, draining the water from the glass in one drink.
He nods. “Seems like you had quite the night.” There’s something in his gaze I don’t quite like and I wonder if Autumn ended up calling him last night. It would be surprising, considering the love/hate relationship they have with each other, but a last resort she would take since I wasn’t answering. Easton glances at Bethany and smiles at her. “Beth, think you could give us a minute to talk?”
Bethany rolls her eyes. “You know I’m not a little kid anymore, right?”
“That’s great, but I still want to talk to her alone. Go see what your grandmother is doing in the kitchen. I’m sure she’d love your help.” When she disappears from the room, stomping along the way, my big brother sighs and takes a seat beside me. “Want to talk about it?”
“I don’t know, Easton. It’s all so… confusing. Did Autumn call you or something?”
He nods. “She said she couldn’t get a hold of you which resulted in us having a ten minute argument over her being stupid enough to let you walk out of the bar with Dawson. You were passed out on the couch when I finally got dressed and was coming to get you. I figured this talk could wait til morning.”
I groan loudly and throw my head back against the couch. “He told me everything, Easton. What happened that night, why hedid what he did, and I’m not sure I can hate him anymore now that I know everything.”
Is it possible that he couldn’t come with me because he needed to keep his brother safe? I mean, I knew his dad wasn’t the greatest man in the world, but was it really so bad that he couldn’t leave his little brother alone to go with me? The idea that it was that bad and he never said anything to me only makes me realize how much I didn’t know about him back then.
Here I was, living my best high school life with him by my side while he had to go home and deal with all the bullshit alone. Did he think I couldn’t handle it? What would he have done if I told him I’d stay with him? According to him, he knew that’s what I would do and he didn’t want me giving up my dreams for him. The only way he could think to make me live my life the way I always talked about was to let me go.
Every part of me wants to hate him for making that decision for me, but can I? He made sure I kept living my life… but what about him? While I was living it up at college, he was stuck here to care for his brother while going through his own schooling. He was alone. I was alone as well, but that was by choice and my family always came to visit or called me throughout the week.
“Sav,” Easton says, gaining my attention. “Maybe you should talk to him, figure out what’s the truth. I’m not the biggest fan of the guy for how badly he hurt you, but even I could tell how much he loved you back then.”
