Page 52 of All I Have Left

GRAYSON

W ell, I’m a fucking mess, huh? You probably saw that one coming though, didn’t you? I guess, maybe I did too.

Fuck you, war.

It was the worst night ever. I fucked it all up.

I stare at the ceiling, unable to sleep as the chalky-blue sky turns a pale shade of purple.

Rolling over, I watch Evie sound asleep beside me, a sheet pooled around her waist, her bare chest revealed, her nipples puckered in the most beautiful, delicious way.

I fight the urge to touch her. She’s so goddamn beautiful.

How’d I get so lucky to have her here with me?

She’s filled an ache inside me I can’t shake. A need so deep, it’s blinding. Tightness swirls in my stomach, a familiar stirring in my groin from seeing her tits hanging out. I look down at my erection.

Fuck you, too. You fucked everything up.

Groaning, I roll onto my back again and bend my knee, my hands in my hair. Above me, the ceiling fan swirls at a rapid pace, a flickering of shadows dancing across the walls.

I will still argue that I don’t need those pills, the ones I threw out the other day, but I will admit there is more to those clinical terms they threw at me in the hospital. Post-traumatic stress syndrome.

Some memories you can’t control no matter how hard you try. No matter how much medication you take, they come crashing back at the least likely times.

I lost my shit last night. Like, completely lost my shit.

Mind was all over the fucking place, and wouldn’t let me stop.

I’d waited so long to be with her, that I couldn’t stop.

Didn’t want to. So I fought through the mental instability, for a moment.

It was probably horrible for her, too. And though it was the greatest pleasure I’d experienced in a long fucking time, I was numb and probably didn’t know the difference.

Now I’m here, watching a ceiling fan circle above me and wondering what I’m going to say to her when she wakes up. That I love her. That I’m sorry. That she should run away from me?

Just before the sun rises, Evie wakes up. The sky’s still tinted with lighter colors, the moon peeking out above the tree line. With a sigh, she sits up and looks around the room. I watch her. Her eyes snap to where I’m lying beside her. “You’re awake?”

“My eyes are open. Does that count?”

She smiles. “I think so.”

I swallow over the huge lump in my throat and the anxiety building.

I’ve prepared myself over the last six hours that when she woke up this morning, she’d realize how fucked up I am and want out.

And as much as that would hurt, I’d let her because it’s for the better.

She deserves normal, not another fucked-up person.

Running my hand up the curve of her back, my fingertips trace the bumps on her spine. “Do you want some coffee?”

She shakes her head. “Not yet.” Shifting, she moves closer and places her head on my shoulder. “Are you okay?”

I shrug but don’t give an answer. I’m not sure I can. How do I even explain what happened? I can’t. I don’t even know. With that sound, I’d been transported back into a time when nothing was safe and my future lay in the hands of others who fought to destroy it .

Her stomach growls and she giggles into my chest.

“Are you hungry?” I ask into her hair, my words rough.

A sigh falls from her lips as her hand dips under the sheets and palms my erection. Yep, hasn’t gone away no matter how hard I try to talk him out of his plans for the day. “This looks like a good breakfast.”

I groan, a shudder running through me. “Aren’t you tired?” I whisper in her hair, running my nose along the curve of her neck.

She twists, one arm planting herself firmly to rise up and look back at me. “I want to try something.”

Before I understand what she means by that, she’s traveling down my body.

Rising up on my elbows, I watch through lust-filled hooded eyes as her mouth moves down my stomach to between my legs. I smile, unsure what I’m supposed to do.

Before she even touches me, pleasure shoots up my spine, my body shuddering in anticipation. “How many times have you thought about this?” she asks, holding my cock in her hands, stroking it slowly.

I can barely get words out, but I eventually give her the truth she deserves. “Probably every day since I was fourteen and you devoured a Popsicle in front of me.”

“What Popsicle?”

I smile when she bites down on her bottom lip. “The cherry one. Eighth grade, baseball fields, I was playing short stop, you were on the sidelines and the juices were dripping off your lips.” I groan, shaking my head slowly. “Most erotic imagery of my teen life.”

She bursts out laughing at me. “You have a very vivid memory.”

If only she knew what I’d die to erase from it.

“Well, let me see if I can make your teenage dreams come true.”

You already have.

When she finally licks my cock from base to tip, I nearly lose it. I’ve never had a blow job, but I’ve imagined what they were like. And my imagination in no way did it justice.

My body tenses, anticipating what’s probably going to happen rather quickly. I toss my head back at the unbelievable sensations coursing through me when she closes her lips around me.

Prying my eyes open, I watch her head move up and down, her hair tangled around my hand gently. There’s no pressure added, just resting there with a subtle touch as my hand follows the natural movement of her head.

She seems to appreciate the encouragement and smiles around me.

A memory every man wants?

Their girl smiling around their dick. I have it now.

The sounds she makes are enough to drive me over the edge—soft moans and sucking.

Naturally, I don’t last long. I can’t and though I want to come in her mouth, I’m not sure she wants that. My legs tense, my stomach tightening. Groaning, I fist her hair a little tighter. “Evie… I’m gonna….” My words trail off.

She pauses, smiling. Her tongue jets out, swirling around the head.

“I want you to come in my mouth.” With her hands on my upper thighs, she plunges her mouth over me with a mission in mind.

I draw in a shaky breath, both my hands cradling her head.

It’s more than I can take, my orgasm ripping through me suddenly, a shuttered cry of pleasure ringing through the room as I pulse in her mouth.

Evie surprises me too, swallowing, and then regarding me with a smile. Her eyes shine as if she’s gotten just as much pleasure as I did.

“Thank you,” she says, watching me.

My elbows give out and my head hits the pillow. I stare up at the ceiling fan. “Why are you thanking me? I should be fuckin’ worshiping you right now. ”

Her head rests against my chest, curling into my side. “Because you didn’t force me.”

Pain digs its way through me again, my heart pounding rapidly. “Did he?”

She nods without words.

Anger pulses inside my chest, my jaw tight, an image of what I think happened, and probably nowhere close to the actual event plays out in my head. And what she asks next terrifies me even more. “We’re fucked up, aren’t we?”

I nod, holding her tightly against me, my breathing slowing. “Probably.”

Her hand rests on my chest next to her head, her fingertips dancing over my heart. “Was it the fireworks last night or something I did?”

My throat tightens and I blow out an unsteady breath. “It was nothing you did.” Shifting underneath her, I touch her face in my hands, forcing her to look at me. I kiss her, once, and then draw back. “I’m sorry. I’m just… really fucking sorry about that.”

Tears flood her eyes. “You have nothing to be sorry about. I understand. It happens and I can’t imagine what you saw, and what you’re going through now.”

Her tears are like acid being poured on me. “This is what I was afraid of.”

“What do you mean?”

“You have enough to worry about. I shouldn’t be one of them.”

She moves away from me to sit up. She breathes in, holds it, and then lets it out slowly.

“Grayson, you’re my best friend. Three years doesn’t change that.

I’d do anything to help you through this.

” Her eyes soften. “And truthfully, it’s really fucking nice to know there’s someone just as messed up as me. ”

Resting my hand on hers, I stare at her. “I just—”

“Wake the fuck up, bitches!” A loud knock hits the door, interrupting us.

Evie rolls her eyes. “I hate my brother. ”

And then “Stop fucking and get out here!” comes from Frankie.

I roll my eyes, too. “Not as much as I hate my sister.” Groaning, I reach for Evie and wrap my arms around her. “Let’s pretend they’re not here.”

Giggling, she brings me on top of her. “Let’s make up for last night.”

My hand lowers to her ass. “Now that’s a day I can get down with.”

But we don’t get that far before they start threatening to pick the lock.

Two hours later and after much-needed food, we’re sitting around the screened-in porch overlooking the lake. Frankie is talking about planning the wedding, Ethan looks wide-eyed in confusion, and Evie’s lost in her own head beside me.

Me, I’m more nervous than I’ve ever been because of what Josh has in his hand.

He sets the box of fireworks on the table. “What should we do with these?”

I stare at the box. “Throw them away.”

“What?” he gasps, holding up bottle rockets. “Why?”

“Fuck you, Josh!” Evie shouts, ripping the box from his hands.

The table moves with the motion, water glasses spilling.

“Can’t you see he just returned from war?

Do you really think setting off fireworks constantly is good for him?

” Taking the box, she dumps them out on the table.

They spill off the table, crashing against the ground, onto our laps, in drinks and food. “You guys are fucking idiots.”

Every single person at that table stares at me. Heat licks my face and I have no idea how I’m supposed to react, let alone reply. Evie’s eyes snap to mine, her face flushed, mouth gaping .

“I’m sorry!” she cries, covering her mouth, and then rushes away from the table as if she can’t believe she just said that.

Frankie gasps. “Oh my God, Grayson. We didn’t even—”

“It’s fine,” I snap, pushing away from the table to chase after Evie.

I run to catch up with her, but she’s halfway to the lake and into the trees.

Sliding down the trunk of a tree, she holds her hands over her face.

I stand back, unable to make myself react.

I watch her cry into her palms, a sadness I’m not sure I can take away because the brutal fucking reality is, I’ve created this again. By leaving, by being fucked up.

“Evie?” I kneel next to her and am surprised when she launches herself at me, clinging to my neck.

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry, Grayson! I didn’t mean to do that.”

That ever-present lump rises in my throat and I find it hard to put words to what’s going through me. I hold tighter, so tight I’m afraid I’m hurting her. “It’s okay,” I rush to say. “I’m not mad.”

“You should be,” she cries, her body shaking. “You should be mad.”

I pry her away from me so I can see her face.

“No. I fucking shouldn’t be,” I snap, not angry with her at all, but livid that this is our reality.

“This is my shit. Not yours. You don’t need this too,” I stress, wishing she’d see that maybe she’s better off without me.

I chew on my lip, my face collapsing in agony.

Closing my eyes, fear tightens my chest and I heave in a long breath.

“I couldn’t even make love to you. I can’t… I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

Tears roll down her cheeks and she touches her hand to my face. “I don’t know either, but I know I’ve never felt more at home than I do navigating hell with you.”

I stare at her, so many things running through my head. Her words resonate in every dark part of me. I don’t know why, but I laugh. Probably because I’m fucking insane. I don’t think it’s funny, but then again, it is .

“I’ve been waiting thirteen years for you to finally lose your shit on Josh and it was amazing.

” I fall back against the ground, still laughing, and stare up at the trees.

I don’t think Evie knows what to make of my sudden change in demeanor, but she starts laughing and flops next to me, still crying through giggles.

“I was a little harsh, huh?”

“It was fucking hot is what it was.” Rolling, I pin her to the ground. “I think I might have to get you mad more often.”

“I’m sure it will happen daily over the next fifty years.”

“ Fifty years? That’s not long enough,” I whisper, bringing my mouth to hers.

I’m not sure we’re ever going to have that happy ever after, but we’ll find a middle. An in-between where we can exist for now.