Goodbye to You Read online

  My fingers graze her scalp, and tighten when her moans vibrate against my sensitive flesh. My gaze falls to her, to find her clear blue eyes already watching me.

  She may be on her knees, but I don’t fool myself into believing I’m in control.

  Thea has all the power in the world right now, and all I can do is beg her for mercy.

  “Please.” It’s more a grunt than an actual word.

  She understands, though. She quickens her pace, her sweet mouth sliding frantically up and down as one hand cups my testicles and massages gently.

  My shoulders tense as a bolt of lightning strikes my stomach.

  I can’t hold back.

  “Sweetheart, sto—” I pull back, try to pull out but her mouth remains firmly upon me, sucking and licking and asking me to…

  My body shakes from the inside out, vibrating from my groin and tingling to my fingers and toes. I fall back against the cushion, and she climbs up into my lap, her sweet lips nuzzling my neck.

  Her sweat-slickened skin glistens, the scent of berries intensified by the heat of our passion.

  My heartbeat slows to a normal pace. The soft stroke of her fingers on my skin could lull me to sleep.

  But I refuse to sleep tonight. These last few days have been extraordinary, and I hope if I stay awake the magic will last.

  We stretch out on the couch, and I slide my hands across her powdery-soft skin.

  She props her chin on my chest, biting her lip, her forehead wrinkling.

  I brush a few strands of hair from her face, some caught in her mouth—how did she not notice?—and stroke my thumbs over her jaw, her temples.

  She stares at, and chews on the inside of her cheek, making me squirm.

  “What?”

  “Well, you know about the most embarrassing thing ever to happen to me…”

  I laugh. I’m sure it ranks as one of my mom’s most embarrassing moments, too.

  “…now you have to tell me yours.”

  Huh. I’m not quite sure what to say. None of my embarrassments come even close to hers.

  I don’t want to make her feel bad, but I’m not one to lie. “I got nothing on you.”

  She pops up on her forearms, eyes wide and lips pursed.

  She’s so cute when she’s indignant.

  “Not fair. You know a secret I won’t ever tell anyone, AN-Y-ONE, ever. ‘Fess up. You’ve gotta give me something.”

  I think for a few moments.

  There’s something. It’s dark and heartbreaking, though, far from humiliating.

  For some reason, I’m compelled to tell her.

  About my mother. My birth mother.

  I’ve never talked to anyone outside of my family about what happened, except Fred.

  “Alright. When I was six, before we moved here, my ma took us out. The weather was dreadful, and she had no business driving. She veered off the road, and we hit a large tree at full speed.” My breath shudders in and out as I recall the scene.

  Her voice is rife with concern. “Shay, no, don’t. You don’t have to…”

  But I want to. Need to.

  “The smell…the engine was on fire, a metallic tang in the air. I was thrown from the car, injured, but Mac was crying—he was only three—and Liam was begging, ‘Ma, please, wake up. Wake up!’

  I had to get back to the car. I couldn’t walk, but desperation urged me forward, compelled me to crawl back through the icy muck to the car to help them. I pulled Liam from Ma’s neck and unbuckled Mac from his car seat and wrapped him in his blanket. Ma wouldn’t wake up, but we couldn’t stay. Not with the car on fire. I feared the worse anyway, that she was…and I had to save my brothers.”

  She sniffs and I open my eyes, pulling me from the nightmare world.

  “The accident, a couple days ago, when I had to go to the hospital…”

  “Mmm hmm?”

  “Mac was driving. He ran off the road, and we thought the worst. That he tried to…”

  I can’t finish, but her faint nod tells me she understands.

  Her bright blue eyes darken, and tears threaten to spill. “Shay, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to dredge up your pain.”

  “Don’t be sorry. My ma was sad for so long, and it was inevitable.” Again, her face screws up. “For many years, everyone said it was an ‘unfortunate accident.’ My mother wanted to commit suicide, and she tried to take us with her. Da found her note, and finally admitted this to us about ten years ago. I was so angry with him for keeping this secret from me, from us. We all deserved the truth. It’s been hardest for my brothers. Liam was closest to her, and he still can’t talk about that day. Mac was too young to remember, but we all worry, because of his multiple diagnoses. So we keep a close eye on him and make sure he gets the treatment he needs.”

  “You are amazing. How heroic of you, to go back for your brothers. You were still a baby yourself, and injured.” She kneels above me, her fingers circling the scars on my leg, the other on my arm. “Are these…?”

  I nod. I can’t put into words how wretched it is to carry around the physical reminder of the crash. The occasional aches, the ugly scars.

  Thea kisses the puckered skin, her soft hair falling over my thighs, her hands gently caressing each mark with reverence. She brushes stray strands of hair behind her ears, and gazes into my eyes, her own brimming with tears.

  “What you did, what you saw, what you’ve been through—no one should go through that. Especially at that age. You’re a hero. Don’t ever doubt that.”

  For the first time ever, seeing myself through her eyes, seeing the admiration shining there, I believe it. My heart swells and my stomach clenches. The bitterness I’ve carried for so long for my birth mother is slipping away a bit.

  I want to replace it with something else.

  Something akin to love.

  How in the heck am I going to let this go?

  Chapter 7

  Thea

  How the hell am I gonna let him go?

  Long distance shit doesn’t work. Leesh and Dev struggled with it; Dev swore the day he moved that everything would be fine. For a few months, everything was fine, with each visiting the other once. Then the daily phone calls dwindled to every couple days, to once a week, to nothing by May.

  It didn’t end badly.

  It simply ended.

  Leesh isn’t angry or bitter, just sad.

  I’ve had enough sadness to fill a lifetime, so I don’t want to do anything to draw more sorrow into my life.

  We’re walking back to the condo, at a pace slower than normal.

  I told Shay I would get back on my own, but he insisted. He grips my hand, and I squeeze his fingers. We need to break this contact soon.

  Just not yet.

  “Breakfast?”

  We pause, and Shay tips his head at a small, rustic restaurant with a heavy-looking wood door and hand-painted signs attached to a white-washed fence. The door opens, and the scents of bacon and buttered toast entice my nostrils, but my stomach turns. I can’t even think about eating right now.

  “No, I’m not hungry.”

  Which is stupid. This thing with Shay has been fantastic. I got what I wanted—hot vacation sex from a guy with an Olympic athlete-caliber body, a model’s face, and mad skills in the sack.

  I’m gonna miss the sex, nothing more. Feeling whole and desired. Not that I won’t be a whole person…

  I discreetly glance at my boobs.

  I am so gonna miss these girls.

  If I hadn’t had them on such glorious display at Paddy’s a few days ago, this magnificent vacation fling might have never happened.

  For that, I am grateful.

  I move in tighter, my shoulder brushing his hard arm. The combination of sea and deodorant and mouthwash that’s all his fills my lungs.

  “Are you sure you guys don’t want me to take you to the airport?”

  I hide my laugh, recalling the split-second look of hurt on his face when he asked the same ques
tion before we left his house. His compact hybrid, I told him, would not hold everything we brought down with us, each with a suitcase, a carry-on, and a purse. And the extra suitcase for all the crap we bought here.

  We’re better off taking the airport shuttle, and it would give me the chance to say goodbye now, collect myself, and be okay when I step on the airplane in a few hours.

  If I let him drive me, I might never get out of the car, or leave Key West. My surgery is scheduled for about three months from now, so that’s not the best option.

  All of the things I’ve come to love about this place are flying by in my peripheral vision: the marina, Paddy’s, the Duval Street experience, the museums, Truman’s Little Whitehouse…and Shay.

  I feel him, smell him, but I’m trying not to look at him. If he stares at me with those gorgeous hazel eyes, framed by those soot-black eyelashes, and asks me to stay, I’ll say yes.

  A million times.

  Yes.

  We’re at the community gate much too quickly, and then the condo door a couple hundred feet later.

  I want him to kiss me goodbye, one of those amazing, soul-churning kisses from the movies when the couple knows this may be the last time they’ll ever be together. Someone is going off to war, or is a fugitive, or is returning to their home planet…

  Shay props his elbow against the building, and I lay my head on his chest, his heartbeat strong in my ear.

  “Thea, I’m…I’m not good with ‘goodbyes.’” He chuckles but doesn’t sound amused. “Heck, I’m not good with ‘hellos’ either, but I’m glad Paddy embarrassed me and called you over.”

  I smile. I’m elated that happened, too.

  “So anyway, you’ve got my number, and I’ll find you on Facebook so I can share those pics we took at the reef.”

  I nod, a lump forming in my throat, making speech impossible.

  “I’m going to miss you.” His voice cracks.

  “Me too,” is all I can manage.

  He slides his fingers under my chin, turning my face up to his.

  He presses his lips softly to mine, and we hold the kiss for a few seconds. I break contact. I’m about to lose it, and don’t want him to see these tears threatening to scald my cheeks.

  “I need to go,” I say.

  “Okay.”

  He moves away and little cracks edge around my heart.

  “Bye.”

  “Bye.” He pivots and walks away.

  The keys in my hand rattle as I attempt to unlock the door.

  “Thea, wait.”

  I glance over my shoulder, and his long legs are carrying him back to where I stand.

  I don’t wait for him to reach me.

  I drop the keys and propel myself into his strong arms, locking my legs around his waist as he crushes his hot mouth to mine.

  The bittersweet kiss is underscored by the saltiness coating our lips, from my tears, or his, or maybe even the sea air. I open my eyes to find his hazel gaze already fixed on me. I gasp at the fire in his eyes, and the sadness too. I pull back, breathing in as he breathes out, breathing out as he breathes in.

  I’m leaving, but I’ll take a little bit of him with me in one of those precious breaths.

  I unlock my legs and slide down, my breasts tingling from the contact with his sculpted chest, jolts of electricity shooting from my belly out to my fingers and toes.

  “Shay, I think I…”

  He nods, releasing me from his arms, his own eyes shimmering with sadness. “Yeah, me too.”

  He walks away, looking back over his shoulder and waving. I can’t bear to watch anymore.

  Stupid, hot tears are streaming down my face, tears I have no right to cry.

  I scoop up my purse from the walkway and try to open the door again, but Bennie and Leesh open it from the inside. I can’t hide the tears, and they hug me from either side, pulling me in the door.

  I let my best friends hold me as I sob, the door closing behind me and shutting Shay out for the rest of my life.

  Chapter 8

  Thea

  Shay’s texted me a few times since I left Florida, and even friended me on Facebook. Tried to friend me, I should say, since I’ve been ignoring the request. He texted that he wants to share the pictures from our snorkeling trip, but I can’t bear to see him staring back at me on my Facebook feed every day.

  I set up a new e-mail account, texted him the address, and had him e-mail the pictures.

  I downloaded the photos and then deleted the account so he couldn’t send me any more e-mails.

  So ridiculous I’m going to this much trouble to avoid him. He said he was going to medical school in North Carolina, but since there are five schools in the state, there’s an eighty percent chance he’s not here.

  Even if he is here, the campus is massive, and I’m not on campus much anyway since I’m not taking classes this semester.

  I don’t want to run into him anywhere. I thought that after a month the little stabs of pain in my heart whenever I thought about him would fade. Not a chance.

  My heart hurts just as much as the last day under the blazing Key West sun when we kissed each other goodbye. I cried and cried, and Bennie and Leesh took turns holding me and packing my things. I couldn’t even function to put clothes in a suitcase, and I am not like that.

  No guy has ever had the iron-fist-to-the-gut impact on me.

  I scan through the pictures, and the ones of the reef are gorgeous, the fish, the plant life, and the sea turtles as vivid as I remember.

  The one I took of Shay and his dad is adorable.

  Ugh.

  Another punch to the gut.

  Here’s one I don’t even remember. Shay lying on a large towel on the deck and my head is on his stomach. I’m reading a magazine I borrowed from one of the other passengers. He looks like he’s sleeping, except for the small smile turning up the corners of his mouth and crinkling the corners of his eyes. I’m smiling too.

  I slam the lid of my laptop shut, the reminders of what I’d lost kicking me in the ass.

  Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  If I’d opened my legs but not my heart, I would be okay.

  When he told me about the car accident and his mom and his concern for his brothers, I fell so hard and so fast, I couldn’t brace myself.

  When he told me how his family hid the truth from him about his mother’s suicide and attempted homicide of her own children, and how he hated secrets more than anything, I felt like I’d been kicked in the head by a pair of Doc Marten boots.

  Now he’ll never know I was hiding something pretty huge—not like my surgery affected him anyway—and since we aren’t friends (on Facebook or anywhere) he’ll never find out.

  My phone buzzes. I’d called Jen earlier and left a message.

  Not Jen. It’s Shay.

  I don’t answer, and send him a quick text.

  Me: Going into a job interview. Sorry can’t talk. What’s up?

  Shay: Nothing much. Did you get the pics? I like the last few of us. ;)

  The last few? There were more photos after the one of me lying on him? Good grief.

  Me: Got ‘em. Didn’t look yet. Had to get dressed for the interview.

  Shay: Hope you like the pics. I like you undressed, but I bet you look sexy as sin in a suit.

  Cripes, how do I respond? Though a stupid cloud of sadness still hangs over me, I can’t help but be flattered by his compliment. It’s rude to not respond, right?

  Me: Thanks. I bet you’re handsome dressed up, too. Hope school is good.

  Shay: Maybe one day we can see each other dressed up. School is insane. Good luck. TTYL

  Yeah. Never going to happen.

  Thankfully the exchange is over, and I run to my bedroom to grab a light cardigan and touch up my hair. Since vacation, I pay a tad more attention to my appearance, always throwing on a little bit of make-up before I go out and trying to do more than pull my hair back up in a ponytail.

  You could say it’s Sha
y’s fault, but it’s been good for me, in a sense. I’m more confident, and I need that before my mastectomy.

  The thought of having my breasts lopped off makes me appreciate other things about myself more.

  I head out the door and jump in my little red pick-up truck, my high school graduation present from Daddy. The truck wasn’t new four years ago, and it’s showing a little bit of age, but she’s my baby and gets me where I need to be.

  Today I’m driving over to the hospital to meet Leesh for lunch. She’s in her first week at her new job in the administrator’s office. She wants to dish on all the hospital gossip, which will be a pleasant distraction from Shay.

  The drive over to the hospital is short, less than ten minutes from my apartment, and I would walk if threatening black clouds weren’t hanging over the city. The garage, as always, is pretty packed, and I’m happy to find a space not on the top floor of the deck.

  As I exit the garage and cross over on the pedestrian bridge, my phone buzzes again. I check my text.

  Leesh: Was taking notes in meeting for boss man. Ran late and now have to type and send before leaving. 20 minutes?

  I respond “yep” and make my way to the lobby coffee shop to grab a cappuccino while I wait. I lean against the wall by the elevator, tapping my toe in time to the easy listening song playing in the café.

  One that played on the boat the day out on the reef.

  UGH.

  Why can’t someone like Agents J and K from Men in Black come erase all memory of the entire vacation from my head?

  Now someone’s behind me, asking for directions, saying “I’m sorry to bother you, but I’m new around here. Can you tell me where the neuropsych offices are, because the floors are numbered weird…” The words bleed together, and I’m slowly turning to find out if I’m hearing things because this guy talking to me sounds an awful lot like him.

  “Oh fuck!”

  ***

  Shay