Reasons to Leave (Reasons #1) (37 page)

Being with Stevie was that one thing.

Pressing play, he turned back to face her. “Want to recreate a memory with me?” He held out his hand to her as “It’s Been Awhile” by Staind filled the air around them. She gazed up at him and held out her hand, slipping it into his outstretched one. He pulled her to her feet and enveloped her in his arms. His mouth found hers as he overtook her in a deep, urgent kiss. He kissed her like she could unlock all the hurt within him and set it free. And maybe…just maybe that was because she could.

She pulled away and looked deeply into him with her bright blue eyes. Running her fingers through his shaggy hair, she breathed. “Instead…do you want to make a
new
memory with me?” She brushed his hair back from his face. “A memory that we
should
have had, here in this room but never got the chance to make.”

Understanding what she meant, he pulled at the hem of her top and lifted until he could discard it on the floor. This time he would be gentler. This time he would savour the experience, savour her taste and the feminine softness of her curves. He caressed her breasts through the lace of her bra and she gasped. After unfastening her skirt, he let it pool around her feet. She pushed the leather jacket down his arms and it fell and landed in a heap beneath them. His leather biker pants were also relinquished.

With her arms around his neck, she pulled him toward her until their lips were almost touching. As his eyes locked on hers, he could feel her breath as it mingled with his own. His heart rate accelerated as it always did when they were this close, and he ran his fingers down her bare back. She shivered and closed her eyes, her breathing becoming less controlled and more rapid too. When she opened them again, she slipped her hands down his chest, lightly grazing his skin with her nails, making him inhale a shaking breath. All the time their lips remained so close but not touching.

“I’ll never get enough of you, Stevie…
never
. I want you so much. I want to be inside you right now…to hear you call my name…to feel you wrapped around me.”

“I want that too.” She never broke eye contact as she breathed her reply.

“Last night was wrong. Everything was rushed and I was so rough…I regret that.”

“You regret it?” Sadness and hurt tinged her whispered voice.

“No, you misunderstand. I mean I regret how fast things went… I should have taken my time, but—”

She placed her fingers over his lips. “Shhh, we have time now. Please don’t have regrets about last night. It was passionate, and I wanted it that way too. But now I want to take things slower.”

He slipped his hands down inside her panties to her behind and pulled her closer still, pressing her into his prominent arousal and clenching his jaw. “I need you. Now that I have you back, how am I supposed to just walk away? How can I let you go? You know I can’t stay, but how do I leave?” He searched her eyes, trying to see deep into her soul, the other half of his own where it remained locked inside her.

“Just make love to me…let’s make this memory… Let’s not think about tomorrow or next week. It’s just you and me right now, and I want to feel you inside of me too, Jason. Body and soul.”

Her words fuelled his desire, and they tumbled onto the bed, grabbing at each other’s remaining clothing, tossing their underwear aside as if their joining couldn’t happen quickly enough. Jason entered her with a long moan through clenched teeth and began to move slowly. Each movement made with purpose to show her how much he loved her. This was where he belonged. Wherever Stevie was.
Surely
he could make this his home too? He shook his head and rested his forehead on hers, and they moved together on the bed he slept in before he left all those years ago. The bed they had kissed on for hours as innocent teenagers. The bed they should have given themselves to each other in for their very first times. But instead, here they were ten years on making love intensely and passionately as if this was the last time.

And maybe it was.

She was the first to cry out. Her climax triggered Jason’s as he clung to her like a lifeline. Feeling overcome with emotion, he clamped his eyes shut and rested his head in the crook of her neck, breathing heavily. Dampness appeared on the side of his face and he lifted his head. Her eyes were closed and tears spilled from them as she shuddered beneath him. He rolled to his side and pulled her into him, stroking her hair. She obviously felt the same despair he felt.

“Hey…shhh…it’s okay, sweetheart. We’ll figure this out. I know we will.” But he really didn’t know that at all. Unless...

****

Once they were dressed again, Jason collected a garbage bag from the kitchen and began to go through the things on his desk. Everything had been left there. Cinema stubs, receipts, train tickets. Nothing had been thrown away for
ten years
.

Photographs of Jason and Stevie together adorned every available surface, and he collected them together.
Now
he would take them with him. They would be a painful reminder of the girl he had loved, but better to have a reminder than none at all. How does the saying go again? Something about it being better to have loved and lost, etc. What a shame it was that the words brought him no comfort.

He searched through the drawers and found old T-shirts he had once loved. All neatly ironed and folded by his mum. He smiled at the thought that they wouldn’t fit him now he was so much broader.

“Hey, fancy taking some of my old T-shirts to sleep in? No point me taking them seeing as they won’t fit…and well there’s nothing sexier than a girl wearing a blokes T-shirt to sleep in.”

She smiled fondly. “I’d love to take them…thanks… I have so many memories of you wearing them.” She took the pile he held out to her and placed them with her bag.

The room was like a shrine. Left perfectly as it would have been when he lived here. Before he left. He smiled to himself as she straightened the crumpled bedding as if his mum was expected home any minute and would be angry at their lurid behaviour.

He looked back to the certificates on the pin board, at his many achievements, none of them good enough for his dad. Schoolbooks and novels weighed down the shelf above the foot of his bed. And a keepsake box that he would take with him and look through in private. He knew the contents would embarrass him. Love notes he had penned to Stevie but never given her. Poems and song lyrics he had written about her. Things that would make him cringe, no doubt. He shook his head remembering how sappy he used to be about her.

As he stood there looking at the tiny slivers of his past a new realisation began to settle in. He
could
live here. There was no threat to him now. He
could
be with Stevie. He
could
have the best of both worlds. He could find someone to run the camp and he could maybe start something up down here. Something working with underprivileged kids maybe? His heart began to beat faster and a wide smile spread across his face. He just had to be brave. That's all. And hell if he hadn't been brave before. Surely he could do it again?

Behind him and unaware of his current train of thought, Steve gasped. “Jason…Jason…you…you need to see this.” Her startled, stuttering voice made him spin around.

He frowned. “Why, what is it?”

“I think…I think it’s a letter.” She held out what looked like an envelope.

“You seem to have acquired a stutter.” He chuckled. “It’ll just be some love letter I wrote to you and never gave you or something.” His cheeks heated a little at his admission.

She shook her head slowly. “No…this is…it’s actually addressed
to
you.”

Jason grabbed the envelope from her hand. “To me? Where did you find it?” He was a little confused as he glanced down at the object she had handed to him.

She pointed to the bed. “It was just there…under your pillow.”

“It looks like…shit it
is
…it’s Mum’s handwriting.” His voice was a strangled sob as he eagerly tore at the envelope and pulled out several sheets of hand written paper. “It
is
from my Mum.” He flopped to the bed and looked at her with tears in his eyes.

She sat beside him on the bed. “Oh Jason, what does it say?”

“The date… It’s dated two years ago…just before she died.”

He nervously looked back to the paper and began to read the letter to himself. His heart hammered in his chest.

She stayed silently before him, waiting.

Dear Jason

My darling boy. This isn’t the first letter I’ve written to you since you left, but I have a feeling it may be the last. I’ve never had an address to post them to and so I just keep them in a box in my wardrobe. The most recent one I always place under your pillow, just in case you ever come home. But of course you never do.

The thing is now I’m sick and I’m not getting any better. I’m not sure how many more I can write. It’s my heart. I’ve had lots of treatment and tests, but well, there isn’t much to live for really, and so I’m giving up. I know that sounds so negative, and I don’t want you to be angry with me. I deserve this, you see. I’m getting what I should. My just desserts. The things I left unsaid and undone have eaten away at me for all these years, Jason, and now at least, it won’t be long until I can stop feeling like this.

I sit alone in your untouched room often. I wash and change your bedding in case you return. It’s all I have ever wanted, your safe return. To see your beautiful face again.

As I think this may be the last letter I write, there are some things I need to tell you, and they will be painful to hear. But I want you to know that nothing you can think of me will be any worse than what I have thought of myself for the last twenty-six years. I’ve tortured myself enough for both of us.

****

Stevie looked on as Jason read, his face a confused mask. The line between his brows deepened. What the hell was in that letter? He looked down at the envelope and pulled out a photo. He stared at it for a long while. From where she was sitting, she leaned forward and could see that it was a photo of Jason with another girl. Judging by his fresh-faced appearance in the picture, it must have been taken just before he disappeared. Handsome eighteen-year-old Jason. The man she had loved so deeply.

She touched his leg. “Jason? Are you okay?” No reply. “Jason? Who’s that girl in the photo with you?” Still nothing. Panic rose within her and she nudged him. “Jason!” She raised her voice this time, causing him to look up.

“What?” he snapped. His face had paled, drained of all colour. But there was anger in his narrowed eyes. And maybe a little fear.

“What’s in the letter?”

“Sorry? Oh…it’s...” He shook his head. He looked back at the letter and the photograph again. His eyes widened, he was clearly horrified at the contents. He opened and closed his mouth as if searching for the right words. Then a look of disbelief washed over his features. He stood slowly as if in a trance like state. “I’ve…I need…I need some air.” He almost staggered toward the door, clutching the papers and photograph in his grip.

She stood too and followed. Something was very wrong. “Jason, are you all right? You’re scaring me.” She followed him down the stairs and watched as he pulled on his leather jacket, shoved the scrunched up letter and photograph into the inside pocket, and walked out of the front door. “Jason for goodness sake, will you
please
tell me what was in the letter? And who was that girl in the photo with you? Please!”

Jason stopped and turned to face her. “Stevie…I…I can’t do this now. I need to go. I need some time to think. I can’t talk…not now. I just need to go. Please, just let me go.”

“What do you mean you
need to go
? Go where? What the hell’s going on, Jason? Talk to me!” Her chest heaved and tears needled the back of her eyes.

Whatever was in that letter had changed him. It was like someone had flicked a switch. Loving, sweet, playful Jason had gone. The menacing mask descended once again. Jason from the first days in Scotland was back. He stalked toward her with an angry determination and leaned in until his face was only inches from hers.