(Never) Again (16 page)

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Authors: Theresa Paolo

Tags: #love_contemporary

BOOK: (Never) Again
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I took my position on Joe’s other side and helped Scott get him outside.
“Oh my God! You’re bleeding!” Charlie screeched. She ran over and began dabbing at Joe’s nose with a tissue. You’d think he would wince at her touch, but he must have been too drunk to feel a thing. I could have dropped him face first on the asphalt in the parking lot, and he would’ve curled up and gone to sleep. There had been no reason for Zach to punch him. It was a cheap shot—Joe couldn’t have even fought back if he’d wanted to.
“Shoot, my car is blocked in,” I said, taking in the line of cars behind mine. “How the hell am I supposed to get him home?”
“I’ll take him,” Charlie volunteered.
“Are you sure? I don’t want him to bleed on your seats,” I said, taking in the droplets of blood on the ground.
“It’s okay, I have tissues. Besides I’m parked on the street. It’s your party, Liz, you should stay. I got it.” Charlie took my position under Joe’s arm.
“Really?” I asked, feeling guilty about staying while she had to deal with the mess that was my boyfriend.
“Can someone make a decision? He’s not exactly light.” Scott braced himself as Joe leaned into him.
“I’m sure. Come on Scott, help me get him in,” Charlie said. I followed them, feeling like I should be helping in some way.
When Joe was securely in the passenger seat, seatbelt secured and head resting against the headrest, I kissed him on his forehead, thanked Charlie, and shut the door. Scott disappeared back into the building, but I stood in the street watching the car vanish into the darkness.
Chapter 15
I turned, disgusted with my boyfriend. With my brother. With
Zach
. “What is your problem!” I yelled, storming towards Zach as he leaned against his Jeep.
“Your boyfriend’s a douchebag.”
I stepped closer. “What do you not understand about the fact that he was drunk?”
“And that makes it okay? He can just grab you like that? Hang on you like you’re some kind of—”
I wanted to slap him. Scream in his face. I clenched my fists and stepped even closer. “Some kind of what?”
He looked up, dark eyes even darker. “Like you’re a piece of meat.”
All restraint was lost. My hand pulled back, but before it connected with his cheek he grabbed my wrist. I tried to push it forward, wanting to make some sort of contact, cause him some sort of discomfort, just as he was me.
But his hand was a tight cuff on my wrist and made it impossible. I narrowed my eyes to the evilest glare possible and showed great self-restraint, I thought, by not growling at him. His eyes narrowed back, neither of us blinking. I refused to be the first to break our silent staring contest.
He stepped towards me, my wrist still in his hand, his eyes still intent and focused.
Another step. His spicy scent filled the gap between us. Another step and my breath hitched. He dropped my wrist, his hand sliding up the bare skin of my inner arm, shooting chills straight up my neck. I stood still, frozen by his nearness.
He leaned back, a battle playing out in his eyes as he ran his other hand through his hair. “Screw it,” he said, and before I could utter a single word, his hand wrapped around the back of my neck and drew me close as he crushed his lips to mine.
What the hell was he doing? I had a boyfriend! Yet I didn’t shove him away. Instead, I reached my arm around his neck, my other hand gripping his shirt and tugging him closer to me, my back smacking into his Jeep. Heat shot through me—I could feel it in my chest, my belly, seeping right down to between my thighs.
Every ounce of emotion I felt—anger, loss, fear, desire—released itself into the kiss. His hands roamed down my back, resting on my butt and pushing me hard against him. I felt his erection against my stomach, turning me into a ball of raging hormones.
I parted my lips to let him deepen the kiss. Our tongues danced together, tasting and exploring.
All the feelings I’d turned off when he walked out of my life slammed back into me. I missed this. It felt like home. I knew what I was doing was wrong. But I didn’t want to let go.
I didn’t have to.
Zach pushed away from me. “We shouldn’t do this,” he said breathlessly against my cheek. He rested his forehead against mine, his hand gripping the Jeep to my side.
“I know,” I whispered and when he blinked up, his familiar eyes looking past the surface, reflecting everything I felt, I was sucked in, and all common sense was gone. I mashed my lips to his, pressing my hips into him. Electricity sparked between us again as our tongues met and I moaned.
Needing to feel more of him I reached up, holding his face in my hands. At my touch he thrust his tongue into my mouth and tingles ran across my scalp, continuing down my spine. It was everything I remembered, but even more because of my desperation to make up for all the time lost between us.
Zach ripped away from me, running his hands through his hair. It was like a punch to the gut. I slumped against the Jeep, breathless and spent. The passion faded out of Zach’s gaze and was quickly replaced by anger, disappointment—and what else, I wasn’t really sure. But when his eyes met mine I could feel his discontent.
“I can’t. Not while you’re with him.”
I stood completely speechless, my mind running in a million different directions, my lips swollen from his kisses. It was a little late for that now, wasn’t it? My eyes burned with pain, and I turned away before he had a chance to see.
His large hand engulfed my much smaller one.
“I need you to know this—despite what you may think, I still care about you.”
I ran my fingers along my lips, already feeling the loss of him. An ache grew in my stomach and memories of that summer invaded my thoughts. Of all the tears I shed when he gave up on me. On us.
My desire was gone, replaced by the confusion that ran rampant in my head, but when I looked up at him, resentment was all I felt. I tore my hand from his and distanced myself.
“No,” I said. “You don’t get to do that. If you actually cared, truly cared about me, you would have called. I haven’t heard from you in over a year. You have no idea what is going on in my life. So you don’t get the option to care about me. You lost that right the minute you decided to forget me.”
He stepped closer, completely closing the gap between us. “I never forgot about you.” He tucked my hair behind my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. I hated that he could break through the anger coursing through me.
I looked out into the darkness, allowing the anger to consume me.
“Yeah? Well you have a really shitty way of showing it.”
And with that I walked away, not looking back.
* * *
Have you ever woken up and wondered, where did it all go wrong? That was my first thought on Sunday.
After Joe was carried away and I lost my freaking mind and basically threw myself at Zach, I went back to the party and drank until I could barely walk. Turning to alcohol instead of dealing with my emotions was not my style. But I wanted to forget. Forget how Zach’s lips felt on mine. How good it felt to be in his arms again. How my body betrayed my head and responded to his touch, his scent. No. I didn’t want to remember any of it. Because the only thing it would lead to was heartache.
That morning, drinking my problems away seemed like the biggest mistake of my life. Especially when I got a call from my parents at eight a.m. to tell me their ship was in port and they’d be emailing me pictures.
I felt like my head was in a vise grip. My mouth was so dry that my tongue stuck to the roof, and the sun shining through my window was quickly becoming my biggest nemesis. To say I felt awful would be putting it mildly. Very, very mildly.
I hurried them off the phone before my head exploded.
If having a killer hangover wasn’t bad enough, the apartment looked like a war zone. Beer cups littered every surface, the beer can tower was twice the size of me, and chairs were flipped on their sides. Worst of all, I was alone.
Josh had taken off after I told him I hated him. He’d met me in the parking lot right after I stormed away from Zach and told me that the party was my problem and I was on my own, in less kind words. I’ve never seen him so mad. Then again, I had never been so angry at him either.
I wish I knew where he’d gone, though. Was he okay? I didn’t see him with a beer, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t drinking.
I hoped he’d had sense enough not to drink and drive. That’s all I needed, a call from the local county jail, telling me my brother was sitting behind bars, a criminal charged with a DWI. Or worse. I didn’t even want to think about it. But there was no way—Josh was smarter than that.
And where the hell was Sadie?
I had a headache the size of Texas, a mouth drier than the Sahara, and a mess a pig would be proud of. It was a great morning.
After putting sunglasses on to shield my eyes from the endless rays of sunshine, I started cleaning in the kitchen. By the third garbage bag I came to the conclusion that my apartment had clearly been invaded by a bunch of Neanderthals.
I mean, how hard was it to throw a cup in the garbage? Apparently painstakingly difficult. As I picked up part of a broken bottle from the counter I glanced up, remembering the red liquid that had splashed across the kitchen the night before. The glass shattering on the floor. Zach coming to help me.
If it wasn’t for Zach helping me that wine could have stained, and I wouldn’t have been able to get rid of the stain no matter how much cleaning I did. Our deposit would have been in serious jeopardy.
Okay, so he had his moments, but that didn’t mean I was going to talk to him. He’d kissed me. Technically I’d kissed him back and then initiated it again after he pulled away, but nobody needed to know that. I had a boyfriend! What the hell was he thinking?
Besides, he had come to the party with Tanya. She would have been more than eager to wrap her body around him and tangle their tongues together, so why me?
And since when did he start throwing punches anyway? He was the type of guy who settled a fight with a game of Wii bowling or tennis. I guess he had changed. He was no longer my Zach. He still had that cool, unguarded charm, but throwing punches? My Zach would never have done that.
What was I thinking? He wasn’t my Zach anymore. Hadn’t been for a long time.
It took two long hours to get my place back to normal. It would have taken half that if I hadn’t been dragging so much. At two hours and five minutes, Sadie showed up. Figures.
I opened the door to find her in the same clothes from the night before. “Sade, where the hell have you been?”
By the huge smile she wore, I didn’t need to be concerned.
“I was with Matt,” she said, red spreading across her cheeks. “Forgot my keys.”
“Wait you were with Matt all night?! Did you guys—?”
“No!” She jumped in before I could finish my question. “We just talked.” I raised my eyebrows in disbelief. “He’s not like the other guys,” she protested.
“Really? You just talked?” I wasn’t buying it for a second.
“Okay, fine, we kissed.” Her lips pulled tight before she added, “A lot.”
“At least somebody had a good night.” I ran my fingers through my hair and held it up on top of my head.
“You look like crap.”
I looked at her, defeated, tired, and completely hungover. “Liz, what happened?” she asked, coming closer.
“Not sure how much you missed, but I’ll give you a quick overview.” We walked into the kitchen as I recounted the night’s events. “Evan tried to open a wine bottle against the wall,” her eyes widened and I responded with, “I know. Then I stumbled on him and Vicky with their tongues down each other’s throats.” Sadie’s eyes widened even more. “Yeah, and then I found Scott and Ruthie about to get it on in my bed.”
“No! They didn’t!” She smacked her hands on the counter.
“Don’t worry. I already threw my sheets in the wash. And of course Joe got drunk.”
“Oh God, not again.” Her gray eyes practically rolled into the back of her head.
“Yeah. He was getting all touchy-feely, and I wasn’t in the mood for it and I pushed him off me, and I kind of dragged some unwanted attention to us. So Zach interpreted it as my boyfriend was trying to take advantage of me, which he wasn’t, and Zach punched him in the face.”
“Wait a second!” She held her hand up to stop me. “Zach as in Zach-Zach?”
“We only know one Zach.”
“Are we sure we’re talking about the same Zach? The Zach that made me and you settle an argument by Wii bowling?” I was glad to know I wasn’t the only one whose thoughts went there.
“That’s the one,” I said.
“Get out of here. Why do I always miss the good stuff?”
“It wasn’t so good. Trust me. Afterwards I kicked him out and then Josh kicked Joe out.” I tentatively placed a grape in my mouth, hoping I’d be able to keep it down. And hoping Sadie wouldn’t ask any more details about Zach. Because frankly, I had no desire to tell her about our argument after I kicked him out. Especially not about the kiss. I just wanted to pretend it never happened.
“Typical Joe. Can’t really blame Josh.” She ignored my evil glare and continued. “So you left your own party to drive him home?”
“No, Charlie drove him home.”
“Oh,” she exclaimed, turning away from me.
“What?” I demanded.
“Nothing.”
“Sade, I don’t know if you realize this, but today is not a day for ambiguity. What is it?”
She tossed her hair over her shoulder and chewed on her fingernail. “Well, don’t you think it’s weird that Charlie drove him home?”
Why would I think that was weird? Sadie over thought everything. You would think with her mom being a psychiatrist she would have a better grasp on reality.
“No. I was blocked in. She was parked in the street.”

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