I feel like all I do is watch her lately. She's been better since we talked a few weeks ago, but I've noticed her disappearing more frequently. I guess she's going home every chance she gets. Tonight, we're wrapping up a meeting and she grabs my hand.
"Can I come over tonight?" She keeps her voice low, glancing around us to see who's watching.
I just nod and give her a half smile, looking forward to it more than I should. We hop into separate cars, and I hurry up to my room to shower before she gets here. When I get out, she's sitting on the couch and I'm glad I at least put on shorts before I walked out. "Hey, baby," I say, probably showing my surprise. Then I internally chastise myself for calling her 'baby'. I know I shouldn't do that. She doesn't seem to mind, though.
"Hi," she says, getting up to hug me. She lets out a big sigh and wraps her arms around my waist.
"Are you doing okay?"
"Same, I guess. He doesn't look good," she says, and I realize she must have gone home. I hadn't heard from her in a couple days. "Brie is scared, I think. I'm going to bring her out next week when she goes on break."
"That's probably a good idea."
"I know. She's only sixteen."
"I haven't seen her since she was six," I say, thinking back to the tiny Stevie that followed her mother everywhere the last time we went on tour.
"She's amazing. You'll absolutely adore her," she says proudly, and I smile down at her.
"I know I will."
She looks up at me, staring at me for a minute and glancing at my lips. I freeze for a second, realizing what she's thinking. She kisses me and I can't make myself stop her. Her arms slip around my neck, pulling me down to deepen the kiss, and I instinctively move our bodies closer together. God, she feels good. And smells good. And tastes good. Her hands slide up my shirt, her nails lightly running across my back. Shit, I have to stop this. I pull back and look at her, and she looks a little wounded. "What?"
"You know we can't do this."
"Oh my God. You don't want me anymore," her eyes widen with her realization, and she scrambles to put her shoes back on. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. I'll go."
"You know that's not it." She pauses, and the vulnerable look on her face is almost too much for me to take. Does she really believe I don't want her anymore? I may be approaching 50 years old, but I'm certainly not dead.
"Lindsey..." I can tell she's agonizing over what to say right now, and her face tightens a little as she fights tears back. "You make me forget everything. It's like, the second you touch me, nothing else in my life matters. I need that right now."
"No, Stevie," I say, my voice sounding a little more harsh than I intended. She looks completely devastated and starts to cry as she hurries to the door. "Stevie..."
"Goodnight," she says quickly, slamming the door as she disappears. I can't even move. What just happened? Did she really just try to sleep with me? How the hell did I say no to her? I did the right thing. Is not being with her ever right? Shit. I can't stand the thought of her sitting in her room feeling rejected. I have to go find her.
I knock on her door, and wait patiently while I know she decides whether or not to answer. "Stevie, come on, open up."
She finally comes to the door, still crying, "I've already humiliated myself tonight. Just leave me alone, okay?"
"Let me in," I say gently, and she steps aside, looking resigned. "Stevie, you haven't so much as looked at me in almost two decades." She just stares, her teary eyes full of emotion. "I don't want to be your mistake."
"Being with you has never been a mistake."
"You can't say shit like that to me!" Frustration surges through me and I explode before I have a chance to think through what I'm saying. "I want you. I have always wanted you. It is all I can do to keep my hands off you when you are with me. I know you need a friend right now, and I love you, and I will be here for you, but you are not mine and this is fucking torture."
"You've never turned me down before," she says quietly.
"Well, look at you, Stevie. You're perfect. Even if I wasn't completely in love with you I'd think you were gorgeous."
"What did you just say?"
That wasn't supposed to come out. She's staring at me now, and I have no idea how to get myself out of this so I just keep talking, pretending she didn't just hear that. "You're going through a lot right and the last thing I need is you hating me for taking advantage of you."
"You're in love with me?"
"You had to know that."
She sighs and sits down, trying to process what she just heard. "You're not taking advantage of me, you know."
"Well, no, because we haven't done anything you'll regret."
"What if I won't regret it?"
"You will."
She shakes her head, looking at me seriously. "I need you.
I've never been able to resist that. Damn it, Stevie. "We can't do this," I say again, taking a seat beside her on the couch. "Come here," I say, pulling her into my arms and holding her tightly against me.
"I love you, Lindsey. You know that."
"I do. But you can't. Your family needs you right now, baby," I remind her, but even as I talk, my hand is resting dangerously on her hip.
"Will you at least kiss me so I can stop feeling completely undesirable?" She repositions herself in my lap and wraps her arms around my neck and looks at me with those damn eyes and I contemplate resistance. It's futile. I slowly tangle my hand in her hair and pull her lips to mine, unable to believe I'm kissing her for the second time tonight.
She lays back on the couch and drags me with her, and all of a sudden I'm on top of her, trying to ignore how good she feels underneath me. Our pace is slow, and I'm trying desperately to remind myself that this is as far as it can go. Her hands are tangled in my hair, and a small moan escapes her as I instinctively deepen the kiss. My free hand lands on her inner thigh and she immediately parts them a little. I brush my fingers against her and realize that she's incredibly wet, and she gasps at the slight contact. She's as turned on as I am right now.
I trace her folds hesitantly with one finger, knowing that this is wrong. Maybe I can just touch her. I tease her a little more, my fingers sliding up and down her lips, probing her entrance slightly.
"More. Please," she begs, and I easily slide a couple fingers inside her, grazing her clit with my thumb. She frees her breast from her nightie, pulling at her nipple, her kisses becoming more erratic. She's absolutely breathtaking. I kiss my way down her neck and chest, admiring her, trying to take in every facial expression and sound she makes. At least I can make her not hurt for now.
Finally, she cries out, thrusting against my hand, throwing her head back and giving me an unbelievable view. "You are so beautiful," I tell her, kissing her face, my hand still playing between her thighs as she shudders beneath me.
"I want you to make love to me," she says. I almost give in, knowing I'm not strong enough to deny her again. "But you're right. I'll hate myself. This can't happen again."
I nod, watching her tear up. "Stop it. You're going to make me cry," I tell her, and it's true. Everything about this hurts.
"My heart is ripped in two, Lindsey," she says, burying her face in my chest, trying to smother her sobs with my shirt.
"Go home. Love him as long as you can."
"You're right. I need to go home." I lay there with her in silence for s long time, trying to ignore the fact that my heart is breaking again.
