Page 81 of View With Your Heart

That night, I’m sitting in bed, trying to read, when a brief knock comes to the sliding glass door of my room. I quickly scramble out from under the summer blanket and rush to the door, knowing who it is before looking behind the curtain. As I slide open the door, a sigh of relief rushes out, but it’s immediately filled with concern.

“Is everything alright?”

Gavin steps into my room, looking lost and uncertain. He swipes a hand through his hair, a telltale sign he’s anxious. “I didn’t know where to go.”

“What happened?” I ask, taking his wrist and guiding him to sit on the edge of my bed.

“I’m supposed to be home for a shower and some sleep, but I can’t close my eyes.” He closes them for a second, but I know it’s only in pain. The ache of uncertainty. The fear of the inevitable.

Slipping an arm around him, I tug him to me, just holding him without speaking. My chin rests on his head as I pull him to my chest. My heart hammers while it also breaks for him.

“Brit,”—his voice cracks—“I just need you.”

“Whatever you want,” I tell him, and his head lifts. His eyes meet mine for only a second before his mouth crashes against my lips. Instantly, I’m on my back, and Gavin is over me, shoving up my sleep shirt, palm covering one breast. I groan against his mouth while his hand squeezes harder. His fingers come together and pinch the already hard nipple, tugging at it.

“Brit,” he moans as he moves to my jaw and his palm releases me, skimming down my middle, pausing to massage my belly. His child was in there. His child caused those marks on my skin. His fingers trace over them a second before dipping lower, slipping inside my underwear, and sliding into me. “God, I can’t stop thinking about you, wanting you.”

“We need to be quiet,” I warn him as Gee is only on the other side of the bathroom. Gavin nods before trapping my mouth with his again.

His fingers work me while I tug at his T-shirt from the back, desperate to get it off him. I just want to feel his skin under my hands. I want to know he’s really here, soaking him up as much as I can before he leaves because he’s eventually going to leave again.

He props up on an elbow and awkwardly pulls his shirt over his head from the back of his neck. Then his mouth returns to mine, and his fingers slip inside me once more. My own fingers fumble to open his jeans before sliding inside his briefs and curling around him.

“Please, Brit,” he begs, though there’s nothing he needs to ask. Without a fight, I’m falling into a black pit with him, risking my own heart for his. I shove his jeans low enough, and he tugs at my pajama shorts, easily slipping them down my legs. Gavin balances on the edge of the bed and tugs me to him by my thighs. He’s quick to remove a condom from his pocket and cover himself. With his knees bent into the mattress, he lifts me under my thighs and positions himself at my entrance. I use my heels as best I can to hold myself up, and he slams into me, joining us together. My head tips back, and I bite my lip to keep myself quiet. It’s reckless and risky knowing Gee isn’t far away and isn’t sleeping, but I won’t stop Gavin. I don’t want to stop him.

Clutching at my hips, he pistons into me, filling me over and over. My heels remain on the edge of the bed, forcing my lower body upward to meet his as he rushes to a finish line. I’m not going to get there, but this isn’t about me. This is all for him. He slides back and forth until he stills, spilling into me within minutes. As he heavily breathes, chest lifting and lowering, he glances down at where we join, holding me attached to him. His eyes close, but one hand smooths up my belly.

“I would have married you,” he mutters. “I would have been there for you.” He slips out of me, and my legs lower. As he pulls up his jeans, I sit, feeling dissatisfied. To my surprise, he cups my face and leans down to kiss me. Tender, soft, and sad, my heart rips in half, torn between wanting to love him and accepting he’ll never forgive me.

“I’m so sorry. For so many things, I’m sorry,” I mutter to his mouth, slipping my hands to the back of his head to hold him close.

“Me too. Me too,” he murmurs as his mouth still touches mine.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” I pull back just enough to look up at him. His forehead comes to mine, and he rolls it against me, still inhaling deeply for a second.

“You didn’t get there,” he whispers, lowering his hand for my leg, but I catch his forearm. That moment has passed. This wasn’t about me.

“Gavin, you need to think of your mom.” He nods, returning his forehead to mine and closing his eyes another second. I’m worried he’s too tired to drive. It’s late, and it’s dark.

“You need to rest. Do you want to shower here? Do you need a nap?” Taking care of people is what I do best, and I’m desperate to take care of him.

He rocks his forehead over mine again, leans down to kiss my nose, and abruptly stands. With his jeans still partially open, he steps for the sliding glass door and slips out, leaving me behind once again.

+ + +

The next evening is almost a repeat of the night before, but Gavin arrives earlier. The sliding door is open, allowing fresh air through the screen. Gavin helps himself into my room. I sit on the bed, watching him.

“She’s gone,” he quietly says, and I scramble from the bed and wrap my arms around him. He tugs me to him, holding me tight. When his mouth skims up my neck, I know what he wants. I don’t want to fool myself into thinking this is anything more than it is. It’s like we are those teens again. We won’t be endless. We have a limit to us, but for now, he wants to fill every minute.

As Gavin takes me to the bed again, he asks me where Gee is, realizing the hour is much earlier than the dark of last night.

“He’s at practice.” Thankfully, Theo is out, and I imagine he’ll be consoling whichever Carter girl he’s dating soon enough. Hopefully, he isn’t doing what Gavin and I are about to do.

Gavin and I fall to the bed, repeating most of what we did last night, but instead of him balancing over the edge of the mattress in a rush to finish, he climbs over me, hitching one leg up to his hip before sliding into me. He moves slower tonight, more deliberately, taking control, and making sure I orgasm before he does.

When he eventually pulls out and falls to my side, I turn my head to look at him. He looks exhausted. We should talk about the inconsistency of protection as I’m not on the pill. I went off it after marrying Patrick. When we eventually learned he wouldn’t get me pregnant, it didn’t seem to matter. As Gavin closes his eyes, though, I decide now isn’t the time to mention what we’ve done. I roll to an elbow and stroke over his face.

“Crawl under the covers. Sleep for a bit.”