Six Years (9 page)

I reveled in the feeling of his body pressed against me, in the way his fingers were tracing patterns on my soft skin. For the life of me, I couldn't focus on the movie playing, even with the gorgeous Leonardo DiCaprio.

I couldn't look away from his face, now looking all serious but still soft. My fingers were tingling, I wanted to touch his face, feel his scruff under my fingertips, but I forced my hands not to move. Nolan rejecting me would be too much of a blow; too much of a bitter pill to swallow even if I knew it would be logical. After all, six years were not something he would overlook; even less now that I knew his heart belonged to someone else.

I sighed and nuzzled into his chest some more. Under my ear, his heart beat faster, just a notch, but enough to make mine speed up too. I closed my eyes and softly inhaled, taking in his smell and basking into it. Why was he still affecting me so much? What was wrong with me to be so hung up on him? It couldn't be healthy, not when it was one-sided, and yet, it made me feel alive to be so close to him. I felt alive just knowing he was back in my life.

"Are you tired?" he asked me softly, his voice husky. Was that from being so quiet for the last twenty minutes?

His voice sounded like a sin and the tingles in my fingers went up my arms and down my chest to settle low in my stomach, somewhere I shouldn't think about if I wanted to keep my composure and not ruin our friendship that was still on shaky ground. And to be honest, I didn't want him to know how much of a pervy lovesick puppy I was being whenever he was around. That was disturbing enough in my head.

I looked up at his face without leaving the comforting warmth of his chest against my cheek. When his eyes locked with mine, my breath stuttered. In the darkness only broken by the glow from the TV, his hazel eyes looked darker than they really were and it seared me even more, shivers breaking all over my body.

"I'm not tired." My voice was barely above a whisper, shy between us. My cheeks got hot and I wanted to hide under one of his big pillows, smothering myself to avoid him and what he must be thinking. It was so obvious that I was like a school girl with a crush!

"What's wrong then?"

"Nothing." I sighed again and soaked up his face, drinking him in, knowing it was the closest I'd ever be. "Nothing at all."

His eyebrows lowered over his eyes and he brought his hand to my head, running from my temple to my jaw very softly, very slowly. I had to fight from closing my eyes and moaning—I was that lost in him—but I didn't want to break the eye contact.

And I snapped. My control went out the window, my conscience shut up, my logical senses up and left. Because now I was crawling up, my face getting closer to his, my eyes locked on his slightly parted lips in wonder. When I took a deep breath, embedding in my head his scent so spicy and very male, my breasts brushed against his pecs. It was a barely there touch, but it shook me whole, sending the most sinful message to my heated core. His body stiffened, his frown deepened, but he didn't move. His arms were now along his body and he wasn't pulling me to him, but he wasn't pushing me away either. Why wasn't he? What did it mean?

I could feel his breathing on my face, over my waiting lips, like a promise of the most amazing kiss of my life, the kind you remember even when you're old and wrinkled and ready to expire your last breath. I was still keeping my weight on my hands, my body almost suspended over his as he was still frozen, probably wondering what I was doing, not once thinking what was truly on my deranged mind. Truth to be told, at that moment I didn't even know what was up with me. I was just acting, forgetting to think and be reasonable.

Then, when I couldn't wait any longer, couldn't keep that buzzing inside me driving me to the brink of my sanity, I lowered myself, just a little bit. The brush of my breasts against his chest became a full on contact, his smell overwhelming me completely. I closed my eyes and let it all go.

My lips came in contact with his, something I had dreamt about for years, for almost a decade if I was honest. His lips were supple, his lip ring perfectly placed to make it interesting to tug on it, which I did. When my teeth tugged the little silver thing, he shivered and it warmed me at a fast pace. All I could think about was the heat of his soft lips, the way they fitted so wonderfully as I was coaxing him to open them some more, just enough to let my tongue slip in and taste him. I needed a taste, needed to complete this fantasy of mine. I wanted to feel more of this amazing rush building inside my body, making me almost quiver, almost moan unabashedly.

I tugged on his lip ring once more and he opened his mouth. I slipped my tongue slowly inside his mouth, reveling into this feeling of completion, as if it brought more satisfaction than anything physical I ever experienced before. And it was. It was so much more than I expected, even if we weren't touching with more than just mouths and my chest against his.

My tongue met his lazily, slowly and I lost it again. I moaned at the wetness of it, at the intense need that was almost painful inside me, at the want to coax him to lose control overcame me. But it was a mistake because as soon as that sound left my mouth, he pushed me away roughly, breaking the contact of our mouths, leaving me insanely cold and wanting.

My breathing was loud and fast and that was all I could hear above my fast beating heart. The TV could have been on mute or loud for all I cared, it was the same. Under my fingers, the rough fabric of the bedding erased the feeling of his presence against me. Nolan was breathing fast, but my heartbeats were throbbing too loud in my ears to hear it. The only tell was the way his strong chest was rising and falling fast, almost as fast as mine.

I couldn't tell with his scruff if he was blushing or not, but his eyes were saying something I didn't want to acknowledge. Questions were swirling in his hazel eyes, questions I didn't want to answer, questions I probably couldn't answer as my own mind was scrambled. What did I do?

He bit down on his lip ring and my eyes didn't miss it. Damn, I wanted to tug on it again and again. I closed my eyes and lifted myself up; increasing the space between us when it was obvious he wouldn't come back to me, even to talk about how I had crossed the line. And it hurt, it hurt more than I expected. It was like a punch in the stomach, almost toppling me over. I crossed my arms and turned away from him. I didn't want to face him when he was looking at me that way, when there was this embarrassing silence between us.

"I need to go." As soon as these words left my mouth, I ran to the door and left, without once looking back to see if he was following me or not. One thing was sure, he never called me back. Not once. It hurt some more. Loneliness had never been so hard to live with.

For the first time since I was twelve and Nolan left, tears clogged my throat and fell over the wall of my eyelids. It was useless to try and keep them at bay, not when I felt so crushed, so embarrassed and so brokenhearted as pathetic as it sounded
.
I was brokenhearted.

"How was it?" Big No asked me once I climbed in his mother's car, the one he drove around now that he had his license.

I giggled. "It was great!" I turned down the radio. "We danced and laughed and it was really fun. Caleb got many gifts."

He nodded, but he didn't smile. I lost mine. "That's great, Little B."

I leaned in as far as the seatbelt let me and gazed at his face, taking in the not so smiling face of Big No. I bit on my lower lip, worried. Maybe his mother wasn't feeling well. "You don't look very happy."

He glanced at me quickly, not long though because he was still driving back to our street. "Nothing to be worried about. Did you dance with a boy?" he asked playfully, a smile that wasn't his usual soft smile on his face. I didn't like this very much.

"Is it your mom?"

He sighed and stopped the car at a red light. "I don't want to talk about her."

"I hate it when you look sad,’’ I mumbled softly. I focused on the red light glowing above the car waiting for it to turn green, willing my good mood to come back, but it didn't. I couldn't be happy when I knew Big No was hurting.

"Then tell me how Caleb's birthday went."

I looked at him as he started driving again once the light turned green. He was more relaxed, but I could see in his eyes the sadness I hated. And he was chewing on his lip ring. That was never good when he did that.

"I danced with Caleb and it was fun. We were all jumping around and singing," I replied, my smile creeping back slowly.

"Be careful, Little B. Boys can be assholes with girls and I don't want one to ever make you cry. They don't deserve your tears."

I laughed at him and punched his shoulder that looked bigger than last month with my small fist. "It's not like
I
lik
e
Caleb." I rolled my eyes. If he knew who I loved...

"Yeah well, be careful. You're almost eleven and you're pretty. Boys are going to be a pain with you and I will have to run them off."

"As if one of them would want to kiss me," I scoffed and narrowed my eyes on him when he chuckled.

"Fuck, you really are young, Little B."

BROOKLYN

I closed my eyes and took in the earthy smell in the small parking lot in front of the hotel. I let the tears fall; after all there weren't any witnesses. With my eyes still closed I brought a hand to my lips traitorously tingling. My skin was barely sensitive, but enough to let me know that it wasn't a weird dream. I kissed Nolan, and he pushed me away.

A sob broke free, tearing apart my chest and shredding my heart. Damn! I was such a fool to even think subconsciously that a kiss would change things for the better. My lips weren't magical, they couldn't make his girlfriend and his feelings for her disappear. My lips couldn't change the way he saw me. I would always be his Little B, nothing more and maybe less now that I had messed up everything.

"You shouldn't walk home. It's dangerous," his voice came from behind me, hesitantly.

I quickly dried my tears, but more were coming at a never ending pace. I had a stock of tears built up for the last six years. It was going to be difficult to stop it. But I didn't want to show him how affected I was.

"Brooklyn, look at me," he said softly and put a hand on my shoulder.

I tensed, both at feeling his hand on me and at the use of my full name and not my childhood nickname. I straightened and let him turn me around. I didn't look down to escape his watchful eyes. I had bloodshot eyes, so what? My cheeks were damp, so what?

The concern and uncertainty on his face killed me. I tried to put some space between us, but his hand on my shoulder stopped me as it tightened on me. I couldn't escape.

"I want to go home," I said, my voice breaking on the last word because we both knew that I never wanted to go back home. Yet, at that very second, home was better than this.

The light wind swept a lock of my hair and it fell in my face, hiding my left eye. Promptly and very sweetly, Nolan pushed away the strands behind my ear. Fast, he pulled away from me, not touching me anymore. The gap between us felt like the Grand Canyon.

He looked down at his feet back in his trendy shoes. He ran a hand in his messy hair and sighed. This sound was painful to my ears and I wanted to beg him to forget and move on, but it was impossible. I couldn't forget so why should I ask him to?

"Talk to me. Say something, anything," he pleaded quietly as if he was trying to tame a wild animal.

"There's nothing to say."

He looked up and lowered his eyebrows on his eyes. "Why did you kiss me?"

I opened my mouth to say something, but closed it quickly. It was a very simple question and it should be easy for me to answer, but it wasn't. "Just drive me home."

"Not before you tell me what that was back there," he said pointing the hotel over his shoulder.

The spark in his eyes told me that I shouldn't avoid this or else we'd stay in the parking lot forever. "I don't know, Nolan. It was...an urge, I guess."

He shook his head and paced in front of me for a few seconds, his eyes back on the ground, his feet kicking a little stone in the almost deserted carpark. "Little B, what..."

"Nolan?"

His eyes widened when a woman’s voice called out to him. We turned and there was a woman with a bright smile. As soon as she got a good look at Nolan, she ran to him and launched herself at him, her arms secured around his neck and her thin lips on his.

I took a step back, my eyes widening some more. This couldn't be true. She couldn't be his girlfriend. He gently pushed her away, the surprise still all over his face.

"I wanted to surprise you, honey," she said with a laugh, her sugary voice finishing the work of putting me out of my misery.

With her long and soft looking blonde hair, her small and toned frame, she was as close as perfection as anyone could be and I felt lacking in everything. I wasn't soft looking like her, I wasn't small like her, didn't have clear blue eyes like hers and I didn't have Nolan. She had a job in New York, knew where she was going, was stable and I hated her on the spot.

Nolan glanced back at me with some kind of fear. She followed his gaze and she smiled at me, but it was more strained. She wasn't expecting to find her boyfriend alone in the dark with an unknown girl and I could understand her cool behavior toward me.

"Who's your friend?"

Once again, he startled. His hazel eyes went from her to me several times before he sighed. "This is Brooklyn Powell. We used to be neighbors."

Neighbors
.
Great. Not even friends. He couldn't even mutter the word friends to his girl. I snorted and waved at her, forcing a smile on my face that was everything but convincing.

"I think you two have lots of catching up to do. Nice to meet you." I turned around, but after just two steps, I stopped.

"Let me drive you home."

"Oh, honey, I'm sure she can find her way back. After all, she lives here and I missed you," she said with her sugary voice.

Chills went down my spine. I needed to leave. If I had to hear them kissing I would puke everywhere. Or commit murder. I started walking again and left the parking lot. I could hear them arguing behind me, but I didn't want to listen to what they were saying exactly.

After five minutes of walking toward home, Nolan's car slowed down beside me. The window slid down and I couldn't help but look at him. He was alone in the car, his eyes pleading me to climb in while he kept his mouth closed. What could he say, really? It was such a clusterfuck before his girlfriend got here, so now... There were no words.

I glanced around and caught sight of a group of guys looking dangerous near a building that should have been destroyed a while ago. I didn't like to be alone outside when it was dark, not when I wasn't in the security of my car. I opened the passenger door of Nolan's car and climbed in.

As soon as I buckled my seatbelt, Nolan drove away and toward my house. The silence was weighing between us, making the air heavy. I felt like I was suffocating, but I hid it. His girlfriend's voice kept ringing in my head and a headache took over. It was too much in one day, too much pain and too emotionally draining.

"I didn't know she was coming,’’ he said, breaking the silence with his smooth voice. His grip tightened on the stirring wheel, his knuckles turning white. "I'm sorry."

I shook my head. If only I could call Mike again, just to think about something else, just to distract me, but it wouldn't be fair to string him along. I would never be that kind of girl.

"She's your girlfriend. There's nothing to be sorry about."

The car stopped in front of my house where lights were streaming out from the living room windows where my parents were probably watching TV. As usual, the light outside was off. Further down the street, a group of drunk—or high—people were hanging out in front of a house where music was disturbing the otherwise calm night. For once, there wasn't anyone dealing drugs or something illegal. They were probably already partying down the street with their clients.

"We need to talk about what happened. I need to understand."

I opened the door and just before climbing out the car, I faced him with a stone cold face. "There's nothing to understand. You have your girlfriend waiting for you; you have a life waiting for you back in New York. I'm just the same little girl infatuated with you and nothing more. I'm your old neighbor."

"Wait!" His hand shot out and he grabbed my wrist before I could escape. "You're more than just my old neighbor and you know it." He racked his free hand in his hair and he tugged on his lip ring with his teeth. "I didn't know what to tell her and...I don't know. Fuck, I really don't know." He finished on a troubled sigh that echoed in me.

Tears were about to fall again as everything went blurry. I'd never been such a cry baby before. I pulled away from his grip on my wrist and ran a finger along my old scar. "I shouldn't have kissed you." The word sorry didn't leave the shell of my lips, caught in my throat. Saying sorry would betray how I truly felt and even if I regretted the way he pushed me away, at least I kissed him once. At least I acted on my feelings and saying sorry for this was impossible.

"Why did you?" His voice was quieter suddenly, almost as if he was afraid someone would hear us. His eyes never strayed from me, probing me to answer and lay everything on the table and expose myself to be hurt. But there was no malice in his bright eyes, only questions and fear.

"Why do you think, Nolan?" I snapped, my body stiff. "I've never stopped loving you!"

My heart was hammering in my chest, each beat harder and more painful in my chest. My lungs were on fire and my throat was aching from sobs I was trying to keep locked up. But Nolan never eased my nerves. Of course not! Instead, he paled and frowned.

"But...You're Little B."

And he finished the job of giving me my first true heartbreak. When he left six years ago, I wasn't heartbroken because nothing ever happened beside friendship. I was hurting because I lost the only friend in my life that gave a shit about me, while now, I truly put my heart on my sleeve to hear that I was just Little B. Six years too young, his little friend he never had even an ounce of attraction for. But I was a damn grown woman now.

I nodded. There was nothing to say. It's not because I loved him with everything that I was that it would be enough and convince him to love me. It didn't work that way. Either you felt it or not and he didn’t. He wasn't feeling it...

I turned and left the car, running to the house and unlocking the front door with shaking hands, missing the lock three times, the key rattling against the wooden panel. Behind the door and inside the house, I let the tears fall again and the sobs finally freed rang in the hall. I let myself slide down to the cold tiles, my knees up against my chest and my arms around my legs.

My mother rounded the corner with my father on her heels. They both stopped when their eyes landed on me, crying my heart out for something that was predictable. They shared a look before my mother walked to me and knelt in front of me, her eyes always so very sad and her face older before it should have been.

"Are you hurt?" she asked me softly with a foreign concern in her voice that broke me some more.

"It doesn't... M...matter," I hiccuped and hid my face into my arms. I was thankful for my long hair that gave me the perfect cover. "He doesn't care about me; you both don't give a shit about me. What's wrong with me?"

"Brooklyn," she whispered brokenly and I looked up. My father was now behind her with one of his rough hands on her shoulder while she was crying silently, her eyes trained on me. "Don't say that."

I stood up suddenly and walked away, giving them my back, just like they had all these years. "Forget it," I mumbled darkly over my shoulder as I opened my bedroom door. Inside, I took my guitar and started to play random melodies while my tears kept falling. The tears fell on my guitar and fueled me to play some more, late into the night until I fell asleep with my guitar in my arms. My last dream backfired. I learned something tonight; never dream about someone. You couldn’t count on anyone, you couldn’t hope for more, for better when your life wasn't meant to be like this. Nolan would always be out of my reach, no matter what, no matter when. It was time to let it go, to let him go.

* * *

NOLAN

I locked my car and slowly walked back to the hotel, passing by the sleeping man at the office desk. Lena was probably pacing my room, angry. She had every right to be. She came here to surprise me, found me with another girl in the parking lot and I left her to drive that other girl home. But I couldn’t leave Brooklyn to walk home alone at night. It’s not safe and…I needed to fucking understand. She kissed me. Her fucking lips were on mine. And she moaned. She moaned into my mouth.

I growled when the elevator opened on my floor. I rubbed my eyes and walked to my room. My own feet seemed heavy like concrete. My throat closed up and my heart, my heart had been hammering in my chest since Brooklyn lay in my arms.

I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. I left my key with Lena when I went after Brooklyn. A few seconds later she opened the door, wearing only a black negligé. She’s a beautiful girl. It’d be a lie if I said that it wasn’t what attracted me to her months ago, but right now I didn’t feel anything. Just confusion and fear. I was completely and utterly lost.