He Loves Me...He Loves You Not

He Loves Me…He Loves You Not

Lauren Hammond

Copyright © 2011 Lauren Hammond

Smashwords Edition

He Loves Me…He Loves You Not © Lauren Hammond
2011. All rights reserved. No part of this novella may be used or
reproduced whatsoever without written permission except for
quotations written in articles or reviews.

For information contact
[email protected]

The characters and events in this novella are
fictitious and are completely derived from the imagination of the
author. Any similarities to real people either living or deceased
are completely coincidental and are not intended by the author.

ISBN: 9780983868118

Find a guy who calls you beautiful instead of
hot, who calls you back when you hang up on him, who will lie under
the stars and listen to your heartbeat, or will stay awake just to
watch you sleep... wait for the boy who kisses your forehead, who
wants to show you off to the world when you are in sweats, who
holds your hand in front of his friends, who thinks you’re just as
pretty without makeup on. One who is constantly reminding you of
how much he cares and how lucky he is to have YOU... The one who
turns to his friends and says, “That’s her...” ~ Author Unknown
~

Prologue

"We that are true lovers run into strange
capers." ~ William Shakespeare ~

It’s hot. Unbelievably hot. Way too hot for
the month of May. The thermometer outside my house read 96 degrees
when I left to go on this walk. The sounds of summer linger in the
air, birds chirping, sprinklers watering yards, and lawnmowers
buzzing.

There’s a smooth pebble the shape of an oval
that I’ve been kicking down the sidewalk for the last mile. I’m
glad to be out of my house. All mom wants to do is talk about dad
and I’m sick of listening to her rants.

Despite the stifling heat, there’s a cool
breeze; a comfortable mixture of hot and cold that swirls around my
head and blows my hair into my face. I swat at my poker-straight
strands, peeling them away from my cheeks as the engine on the
lawnmower next to me cuts out.

Bending down, I scoop my hair up and sweep it
into a high bun. As I turn to continue my walk a boy strolls toward
me. I freeze. He’s shirtless, dripping with sweat and there’s a
hint of redness to his toasted almond skin; a remnant of the
blazing sun. The boy smiles at me and I’m blinded by the beauty the
smile adds to his features. He’s a candle in the window. Everything
is illuminated.

He hovers over the white picket fence
surrounding his yard. The muscles in his toned arm flex. Currents
of sweat rain down his arms in mini rivers. I follow the trails of
perspiration with my eyes. This boy is like a cool glass of
lemonade to quench your thirst and squash the heat. “Aren’t you
Riley Davis?” he questions.

My skin sizzles and tingles from the heavy
sunshine, plus I’m certain I’m blushing. “Yeah.”

He extends a sweaty palm. I glance at his
hand then at his face. He looks at his hand and wipes it on the leg
of his khaki cargo shorts. “Sorry. It’s kind of hard to avoid
sweating in this heat.”

I giggle. “Yeah. It seems way too hot this
early on.” I examine him. He’s glistening, like the drops of dew on
the grass in the early morning. “You look like you could use a
drink or something.” I’m fumbling my words. He makes me nervous,
and as he crooks me another grin my stomach does a back flip.

He nods toward his house. “You want to come
sit on the porch with me? My Mom just made sweet tea.”

I think over his offer for a second. I shrug.
“Sure. Why not?”

He opens the gate to the fence and I walk
through. “Do you always say ‘why not’ when strangers invite you
into their home?”

I laugh. “For one, I thought we were just
going to sit on the porch. And two, Henry Garner, I’ve known you
since first grade, you technically aren’t a stranger—even though
we’ve barely said two words to each other.”

Later on the porch, he gives me a smoldering
glance as sweat drips down his temples and bright smile spans
across his lips. “You’re different, Riley. I can tell that
already.”

I shrug. “I’m not different. I’m just me.
It’s a shame it took you this long to notice.”

He shakes his glass of tea and the ice cubes
swirl around, clinking and clanking on the side of the glass. He
looks at me solemnly. “It definitely is.”

Chapter 1

"Love prefers twilight to daylight.”~ Oliver
Wendell Holmes.

Friday night is for lovers. An early morning
tryst. A passionate dalliance.

It’s two in the morning, but I can’t sleep.
I’m anxious because I know he’ll be here any minute.

I watch the moonlight as the glowing beams
seep through my open window and dance along the hardwood floor. A
minute passes. Then five. Next ten.

A cool summer breeze whips through my pale
blue curtains and the sound of soft footsteps cuts into the silence
engulfing my bedroom. He pushes back the curtains and I swear I can
see his perfect smile gleaming in the dark.

Henry.

The anxious feeling subsides as the springs
in my mattress squeak and Henry crawls into bed with me. His warm
fingers slide over my bare hip and I shiver. My time with him is
limited so when I get it, I’m happy, so happy that I cry. His touch
thrills me, electrifies me, and sends a jolt throughout my
body.

“You’re too far away,” he murmurs. His voice
reminds me of the man in black. Deep, raspy, sexy.

I let out a restrained laugh. “I’m right next
to you.”

“Still not close enough.”

He tugs on my hip bone and I scoot backwards,
closer. So close that I feel like at any given moment we might melt
together and become one.

He exhales into the curve of my neck and his
hot breath trails down my back, igniting my insides. I swallow
hard, so consumed with my desire for him that the burning sensation
coursing through my veins is overwhelming. I contemplate telling
him to hold me forever. To never let me go. But I don’t. That might
sound too needy. Too desperate.

He kisses my hair and whispers, “I missed
you.”

I reach for his arm pulling it around me
tighter. Goosebumps rise all over my body as his fingertips tickle
my stomach. My voice quivers, “I missed you, too.”

I find his crystalline blue eyes in the dark
and he crooks me a wicked yet beautiful smile. “Kiss me.”

And I do. I kiss him fervently and
passionately. My lips flutter overtop of his in a frenzy of
seductive bliss and inside I tell myself I’d rather suffocate than
sacrifice a moment from kissing him to come up for air.

He rolls over, half on top of me and clutches
my bare thigh. I’m delirious. Lost in him. My fingers dig into his
back as his lips brush against my collar bone.

Henry. Henry. Henry.

Inside I’m screaming. Don’t stop. Never take
your hands off me. I love you.

But those thoughts are unrealistic
fantasies.

He’s taken. Some other girl’s property. And
just like me, she anticipates a gentle brush from his lips. She
anticipates his warm enchanting smile, and his tender loving
touch.

And sadly she has something that I don’t…

All of him.

****

An hour later, he’s putting his pants on,
kissing my forehead and sliding back out my window.

“Stay,” I say, softer than a whisper.

I know he won’t. He never does. And for me to
think that he ever will is wishful thinking.

He doesn’t hear me. He’s gone. And I lose
it.

I shove my face into my pillow and scream.
Cry. Sob. An agonizing, dull pain pumps through my heart and I feel
like I’m dying inside.

I’m trembling, tucked into a ball. I’m so
weak that it makes me sick.

If I was a strong person, I’d tell him to
fuck off and never crawl back through my window ever again.

I’d tell him that what we’re doing isn’t
okay. Cheating is morally wrong. But I love him so much it makes my
whole body ache when I think I might never see him again.

Now I truly understand what it feels like to
be the other woman.

Chapter 2

“
Love is not blind; it simply enables one
to see things others fail to see.”~ Author Unknown ~

There’s always a party the Saturday before
the first day of school. A final celebration of summer coming to an
end. It’s not a celebration for me. I’ll miss summer. My time with
Henry.

Henry Garner. The most beautiful boy I’ve
ever seen and the only boy I’ve ever loved.

Will we still see each other? And if we do
how much will the relationship we have now change? I don’t know for
sure and the thought of his absence scares me.

The party is held in an abandoned farmhouse
on the outskirts of town. Miles away from the road, tucked between
a rotting barn and field full of over-grown grass. I’ve been to
parties here before. The family that used to live here abandoned it
a few years ago. Sometime later it became the hot spot for reckless
and wild behavior.

I go alone. My best friend Rosa texts me as I
park my car in the abandoned field.

I’m running late. Meet U in an hr.

Music blasts, filling the field. The bass
from some crappy rap song bumps so loud that as I walk up the
gravel driveway I can hear the house rattling.

The sun is setting and the sky above me is a
mixture of hues. Blue, orange, pink, and yellow all swirled
together to make a lovely shade of violet. My feet scuff against
the gravel, kicking up rocks as I take each step forward and the
party-goers come into view.

Kids from my grade and some from the grades
below me crowd around the porch smoking cigarettes and holding red
cups. Farah Cuppler, a junior, with long curly red hair, stumbles
to the edge of the porch, gripping one of the crumbling wooden
columns and starts puking. Puking already? I wonder when this party
started. Or if it’s already over. Or if maybe Farah got way too
wasted way too fast.

There’s a crunching noise coming from spots
in the dead, swaying grass, followed by whispering and huffing.
Hook ups. I assume most of the rooms in the house are occupied, but
I can see the appeal in being outside to do what they’re doing. A
rush of adrenaline only enhances your senses and your buzz.

I scale the rickety wooden steps and spot
Henry in the darkness. He’s on the edge of the porch talking with a
group of his friends. We exchange an affectionate glance. My heart
pounds. My pulse races. I’m hot for him—lusting for him—and it all
it took to get me there was a seductive glance and a demure
smile.

His eyes wash over me, taking in my
appearance from head to toe. He looks hungry. And ravaged. I don’t
know why. I’m not dressed particularly sexy or anything. In fact, I
think I look like someone who works in a library.

A slight chill was in the air when I left the
house so I opted for a pair of jean shorts and long sleeved
baseball tee. My hair is pulled back in a ponytail and I’m wearing
my night-time glasses.

I look away from him and open the front door.
I step forward when Callie Banfield stumbles out the door, missing
the small drop from the interior of the house to the porch. She
falls into my shoulder and spills beer all over herself. “Watch
where you’re going,
it
!” she yells. “This is a BCBG
shirt!”

Laughter is stuck in my throat and a weird
grunt comes out instead. I walk around her as she continues
whining. “Whatever.” Then I walk inside.

The music cuts out for a second then picks
back up with a slow song. There are so many people I feel like an
ant amidst larger ones in a colony. I push my way through the
people and they don’t seem to notice. Everyone is wasted.

Some guy I don’t know grabs my arm. He smiles
and one of his front teeth is slightly crooked. “Where are you
going?”

Observing him, I peel his fingers off my arm.
First of all, his beer breath is putrid and I almost plug my nose
in disgust. Second he looks way older than seventeen or eighteen.
Probably in his mid-twenties. And it bothers me that he’s a party
with a bunch of high school kids.