Fight or Fall Page 6

  “What do you want?” I questioned, my body burning in heat, and my dick could hammer nails right now with how hard it was.

  She closed her eyes, the long eyelashes dropping down, and turned her chin up. With a shaky voice, she said, “Kiss me.”

  Kiss her?

  It was such a simple request, but my body obeyed it like a fierce command.

  My lips landed on hers in a second, gently at first, getting familiar in its soft layers. When my tongue started to make its appearance, she opened her mouth and invited me in. I sucked on the flesh and she responded with a restrained moan.

  I realized her eyes were still closed, so I mumbled hard against her lips, “Open your eyes. I don’t want you imagining another guy when I’m kissing you.” This was the only explanation I could come up with why her eyes were closed. Ava and I – we’ve kept each other within arm’s length throughout the years. Not too far. And definitely not too close either. She never gave any indication, any sign, that she’d want me like this.

  Her eyes opened, the piercing gray penetrating. “I know it’s you,” she said, her mouth leaving mine, a loss that my body revolted against. She added, “I’d always know it’s you.”

  She flattened her hands against my chest, the sweat pouring out of me like a raging fever, as my hand squeezed on her ass tighter, pulling her closer to me, letting her feel me, feel my unmistakable desire for her.

  She ground her hips against mine, and I wanted to rip off the scrubs covering her body. I urged, my voice probably sounding like the horniest guy in the universe, “Let’s take this inside.”

  The heat between us could probably start a ten-alarm fire.

  I let my hand dig into her hair softly, the tresses feeling silkier, softer than I ever thought they would be. The emotions on her face reflected indecision, confusion, want, and need. She responded with a catch in her throat, “I have to go.”

  So this was it? She got a taste of me and now she wants to go? Fuck that.

  Sorry princess, you don’t get to tease me and leave me hanging.

  Lowering my other hand to her ass, I picked the phone that she dropped by her feet, hefted her up and lifted her. She had no choice but to wrap her legs around me unless she wanted to keel over. I placed my mouth against hers, her hair falling down on my chest, her hands encircled my neck in a tight embrace. I kept licking her lips, sucking, milking her tongue, her body becoming pliant to my demands. I didn’t let her up to breathe. I could hold my breath for a long time. Only when she tightened her hold on my shoulders did I let her up for air.

  We were in a frenzied battle of tongues and lips as I led us inside the house, without missing a step towards the sofa. My back hitting the couch, her eyes were wild, uninhibited, as she sat on top of me. Her chest rose in uneven breaths as her mouth coaxed my tongue to delve in deeper. She pushed up against my chest, her face leaving mine, exposing the creamy expanse of her neck. My tongue nibbled on the side of her neck and ears. Even here, she tasted heavenly. Her breathing even, she relaxed against my mouth which was exploring her neck down to the small shallow dip between her neck and collarbone, as I pulled the top of her dark blue scrubs to the side with my fingers. I continued with kissing her, grazing her neck with my teeth and my tongue from time and time again, until suddenly I felt her body relax completely against me. Her hands loosened their hold, and if her legs weren’t under my ass she would have fallen off.

  I tilted my head up to look at her, stabilizing her with my hands on both of her arms, wondering what the hell was going on. This time, her eyes were completely closed, her face peaceful, and a tiny smile adorned her mouth.

  Fucking A, I just put a woman to sleep.

  "You doing okay?" Bob, the nurse in the dark gray scrubs asked, while checking the flow of blood from my arm to the bag that my blood was being filtered into.

  “Yeah, I’m good,” I replied. I felt good. I had grabbed a bunch of protein bars and shoved a glass of the protein drink mix down my throat before rushing over here.

  Leaning my head back down on the pillow, I knew that the ceiling of this mobile van would be the only thing I'd stare up for the next half hour. Most of the time it only took fifteen minutes, but in my head it took forever.

  Forever was okay. As long as I’m able to do this, as long as my body permits it, I could do this forever.

  I lifted my head up, eyeing Lorraine, the older nurse who's in charge here, giving her a smile. She was carrying a small carton of orange juice. Last time she gave me a cranberry flavored drink. It tasted like shit, but it seemed to make her happy when I drank it, so I did.

  “Here’s your treat for the day, young man.”

  “What? Are you sure? You promised me champagne the last time," I joked, holding back a laugh. "This is unacceptable. You should treat your regular clients better than this."

  She let out a laugh, Bob and the older lady, also a blood donor, who kept sneaking glances at me and was now reading a magazine, joined her in laughter.

  Bob, walking towards the machine that held a bunch of medical equipment, stated, “You’re a regular alright. Next time we’ll make sure to stock champagne for you.”

  I nodded my head, smirking. “Yeah, yeah…promises, promises.”

  Promises held no water, no value for a lot of people. But it did for me, heavily. Before my sister, was diagnosed with osteosarcoma, Aunt Margie and I had gone to many ER visits because she had had these weird, huge bruises on her knees, elbows, and legs, without anyone laying a hand on her. March tenth, the day that our parents died from a boating accident, was the day I believed there was no God. No God would be cruel enough to leave two good kids orphaned and alone in this world. January twelfth, the day that Bee, after a doctor had diagnosed her with osteosarcoma, was accepted for a research trial, was the day I believed there was a God again. No God would have been cruel enough to take my sister, the only link I had to my parents, my heritage, from me.

  Bee? She's the strongest person, the most resilient woman I know. Even when she had to go through the rigorous chemo, the bacterial infection that scarred her for life, the endless IV sticks - she still managed to comfort me, tell me that she was okay, despite the many tears she had shed down her little face. She's had many blood transfusions from strangers I've never met; strangers who had no clue just how much my sister meant to me. So as soon as I turned eighteen, the day after her birthday, I went to the nearest blood donation center, and no matter what city I'm in, I made a visit every two months. What was a bag or two or three of blood? My body replenished it every month or so, according to one of the nurses I had talked to before.

  One time, a middle-aged guy, told me, "You know, a lot of men are scared of needles." He was also donating blood at UConn's visiting Red Cross Blood Donation van.

  I shrugged my shoulders at him. "Yeah, I guess."

  Needles? Sure they hurt when they prick your skin. But scared? Scared is when you see your sister become as frail as a friggin' plastic doll that you can't even hug her because she'd bruise or her bones might break. Scared is when you receive the news that your aunt, the person who took you in after your parents' accident, had gotten into a head-on collision with a drunk driver. So yeah, needles? There's no reason to be scared of them.

  Now, if I had to be honest, one thing that I'd probably shudder and get scared at is if a doctor stuck a finger or two up my ass on one of those health check-ups that Bee said a guy should get. Shit. I hope my ass would no longer have the nerves to feel it if I ever needed that exam or I'll just run out of the fucking room.

  “Almost done,” Bob said, checking the bag of blood hanging on a small pole, the liquid so precious, so vital to life.

  “Cool. How was your vacation, man?” I questioned. Last time I came in, he had mentioned that he was going on a trip to Puerto Vallarta with his wife and two daughters.

  His brown eyes smiled as he started telling me about his trip – how they enjoyed traditional Mexican cuisine, visited tourist spots, and swam at t
he beaches. At the mention of swimming, my body tightened; tight enough for it to show on my face and him saying, “Sorry. I know how hard it must be for you.”

  The older lady on the other bed, raised her head up, "I thought I recognized you." Her bushy eyebrows crinkling. "You're Milo Tanner. The guy who framed Kieran Stone for drugs."

  I took a dry swallow, my face a mask of indifference as I replied to Bob, "It's okay. Not your fault." He was probably thinking that he outed me to the lady or some shit like that, which was not even true. Even if it was, it wasn't his fault. It was all my mistake. My fault. All my fucking fault.

  “Hey,” I said as I pressed the on button on the Bluetooth function of my car.

  Traffic was ridiculous. Even the side streets were clogged with slow-ass drivers. Shit. I wanted to get home before she left.

  “It’s there in the account now,” Dia confirmed. “I just checked and a hundred fifty thousand was deposited.”

  “Okay, good,” I replied, relief evident in my voice.

  “It’s enough money to keep us operational for six months.”

  “Okay.” That’s good. Six months was a long time. It would mean that the three part-time workers would not be fired and that the children relying on the foundation would not be denied.

  “Fuck!” I yelled, my leg pushing hard on the brake.

  “What?” Dia’s asked, concerned. “What’s going on?”

  “Sorry, an idiot just slammed on his brakes in front of me,” I mumbled. My blood was heating up from the irresponsible drivers who didn’t signal when they switched lanes.

  “Oh, sweetheart,” she cooed. “I remember how mad you get with traffic.”

  “Dia, look, listen, and get it through your head.” I clenched my jaw and tapped my hand on the wheel. “I’m done with you. We’re done. We’re not getting back together. Ever.” Maybe after repeating it to her for the hundredth time, she’d get it through her head.

  I heard her breathing hard over the phone. “Milo, I’m sorry. How many times do I have to say I’m sorry?”

  “Dia. I told you, I’ve forgiven you.” In an exasperated breath, I continued, “I just can’t forget, okay? We’re done.” The second she slept with Kieran, we were done. The minute she lied to me about Kieran seducing her, even maybe forcing her to sleep with him, there’s no way I’d ever trust her as a girlfriend. As an accountant, she was great. She sent me a weekly report on how the foundation was doing. She thought staying as The Children’s Foundation account manager was going to make me take her back. It wasn’t.

  She was quiet for a few seconds, and then she said, “I loved you, you know.”

  “For a time,” I agreed as I accelerated in the fast lane. Traffic was now opening up. What should have taken twenty minutes was now taking twice as long.

  “No, I really did, Milo.” Resignation clouded her voice. “I just…I know I did it. I don’t think he even knew who I was. But he’s a nice guy. He never did anything to hurt me.”

  There’s rage and then there’s rage. It wasn’t hard for me to believe that Kieran would do what he did so I believed Dia. For many months, I harbored unpleasant thoughts about burning Stone on a fucking tree. But being in the civilized society that we’re in, I couldn’t. But I made sure that he suffered. Every time I saw him in the locker room or in the pool, I didn’t hide my hatred, my anger at him. Women had the power to make men believe anything. I gave Dia that hold, that power over me. She blinded me like a fucking mouse and if it wasn’t for the threat of the foundation going bankrupt and her losing her job, she’d never have told me the truth. I don’t trust her. I don’t think I’ll ever trust a woman again.

  “Move on, Dia,” I advised, and the words coming out of my mouth were almost automatic, robotic. I’d told her how many times now. “I’m never coming back to you. What we have now is a business relationship. And if you cross the line, I’d have no problem giving you your two weeks notice.”

  Silence filled my car.

  “Okay, I just…” Her voice starting cracking. “I’ll always love you, Milo. I wish I never did what I did. I’ll see you in three weeks.” She lived in San Jose now. She moved there after college. We both planned to move there after college. But plans changed. How things have changed.

  “You don’t have to be here for every fight,” I tried to discourage her. She wasn’t needed here. I didn’t need her here. “I’m not even sure if I’ll be fighting. It depends on who they pick.”

  “You may not want me anymore, but I’ll be there, Milo,” she said firmly.

  I glanced at the dashboard of my car – 80 mph. I was driving really fast. Maybe she’ll still be sleeping. I didn’t want to leave her, but I had an appointment with Red Cross.

  “Fine. Just don’t expect anything more from me.” My words came out with finality. When you break someone’s heart, the shards, the broken pieces remain littered on the ground. You hoped that the person who broke your heart will be the one helping you piece it back together, and I did it for Dia once. She broke mine and I broke hers, and together we tried to make our hearts whole again. But I won’t be doing it again. Not for her. Not for anyone else. Ever.

  The gleaming white Tesla was nowhere to be seen.

  Before I had left the house, I had carried her over to my bedroom. It was the only bedroom in the house that was clean and habitable. She weighed practically nothing, and while asleep she was breathtaking. When and where the hell did I start thinking about her as breathtaking?

  Since your mouth touched hers, you idiot.

  Ava’s flowery scent lingered in the air and the side of the bed where I had left her was still indented from her body laying on it.

  I had to erase that kiss, delete it from my memory, or else I would be jacking off to her scent.

  The thought of jacking off to her image just made me hard. Shit. I need to go on a date or something. It’s been too long since I’d had sex. I knew guys who drowned their sorrows in a bunch of meaningless pussies. What was the point? I could probably jack myself off better than having random, meaningless sex. Plus, the alarming trends and pictures of STD’s and VD’s that I’d seen from Bee’s nursing shit were enough for me to wrap it up or just stay the fuck away from women I haven’t gotten the chance to know.

  I removed the compression wrap on my right arm and saw that there was no bleeding or anything. I’d donated blood enough times to know that after half an hour it was okay to remove it. I dropped my keys on the small desk by my bed and scrolled through my phone. No calls either. When Ava fell asleep, I called her phone with my phone so she’d have my number and texted her too, in case she woke up before I got back.

  So that’s how you want to play it, Princess? Fine.

  I walked to the kitchen, my phone in my right hand, grabbed a banana off the counter, and sat on the couch. Channel surfing sounded good right now.

  Stopping at some old time movie channel, I let my mind drift at what happened today.

  It was probably all a delusion. Ava was so tired that she was dreaming of someone else when she kissed me. Maybe a fucking frog prince or some shit. Most of the time, when I hung out with my sister, she was also there. I’ve heard her talk about some Greek dudes or some Russian models. She went for those eye-candy kind of guys, though I never really heard of her dating anyone. Not that I cared.

  Now just the thought of her pressing those soft lips on someone else made me clench my jaw so hard that I might have broken a facial bone. Who does she think she is? All high and mighty? Just because she’s all rich and shit? Her father had warned me against going anywhere near her. He didn’t have to warn me. I sure as hell wasn’t touching her again. The idea of not touching her again was just enough to make my knuckles ache to punch and throw something against the wall.

  Man, she was messing me up.

  Somehow, seeing her in scrubs made her seem attainable, reachable, touchable. No, that wasn’t the reason I kissed her though. I kissed her because I couldn’t stop myself. In her eyes,
I saw desire...and longing. Like she had wanted me to kiss her for a long time.

  2 Chainz and Wiz Khalifa’s ‘We Own It’ followed by a vibrating motion had me picking up my phone that I had laid on the small wooden table in front of me.

  It was a text message.

  Leif: We on?

  Me: Yeah. U clear?

  Leif: Yeah. Let’s hang.

  Me: Cool.

  Leif: Bungee?

  Me: K. Sounds good.

  Leif: Still alive?

  Me: U think?

  Leif: U all Rocky and shit now?

  Me: Why don’t u come and see for urself.

  Leif: Trust me buddy. I know how u are. Rocky ain’t got nothing on u. Nice to know ur still standing.

  Me: I’ll be standing til the end.

  Leif: Yeah. I know. Hey, ur sister’s asking about u.