Everything I Can Never Have (Age & Innocence Book 2) Page 8

  “Sometimes,” I admit, my stomach heavy. “A lot. I’ve watched you grow into an amazing, beautiful woman and I wonder what he would’ve been like. How different would my life have been if he were still here?”

  She slips her hand into mine. I jump, but I let her fingers entwine around mine. There’s nothing sexual about her gesture. It’s just her way of letting me know she’s there for me, but my body still reacts to her proximity in ways it definitely shouldn’t.

  “When do your exams start?” I ask, keen for a subject change.

  “Next week.” She shakes her head. “It’s hard to believe I’m almost done with school. Next step, university. If I get in.” She presses her lips together and gives me a smile. “Psychology is all I’ve wanted to do since I was a little kid.”

  “I know,” I murmur, memories of her and Dylan discussing their futures floating through my mind. My stomach aches because he had such a bright future ahead of him. He was so loved, so wanted, and then just like that, he was gone.

  “What made you buy the bar?”

  I look at her, surprised by her random question. The truth is, it just felt right. Even now, it feels like the best decision I’ve made in a long time—the first step in discovering who I am, beneath the pain, beneath the tragedy. I don’t want that to be what defines me anymore. I want to be me.

  “Because it reminded me of a guy I used to know,” I finally say.

  “Isn’t that a song?”

  My lips twitch as I glance at her. “You know Gotye?”

  “Have you met my father?” She rolls her eyes as she softly hums the tune. “I grew up on nineties alternative rock. Remember my tenth birthday party?”

  I chuckle softly. “That’s right. You’re the only kid I’d ever known to want a grunge-themed party, then you got upset and wouldn’t let half the kids inside because their outfits didn’t meet the description.”

  “Half the kids?” she mutters. “The only people left were me, Quinn and Dylan.”

  She blushes, the colour creeping into her cheeks fucking adorable. My fingers twitch, fighting the urge to reach out and touch her, to tuck that long, dark hair behind her ears so I can better see her beautiful face.

  “I used to love listening to you and Dad play, you know.”

  “You did?” I’m surprised by that. “I figured you’d be off with your friends, being a kid.”

  She shakes her head. “Nope. Every Saturday, I’d sit in that oak tree behind the house. I’d close my eyes and just let the music take over… your voice was mesmerising, Zave. I could’ve sat there, listening to you for hours.”

  God, those were the days.

  After I got married, sneaking over to Aaron’s place to jam in his garage became the closest I ever got to performing again. Maria thought we were playing golf—I figured that was more acceptable than what I was really getting up to. Like a dirty, secret affair, we jammed every single weekend, right up until the week before the accident.

  After… well, even though my injuries eventually healed, I couldn’t bring myself to play anymore. It hurt too much.

  “I’m enjoying this.” Sofie smiles at me.

  “Which part, when you almost killed us, or the bit where I flipped out, reduced you to tears and probably gave you a driving complex?” I ask, smiling in spite of myself.

  “First, I was nowhere near that truck.” She rolls her eyes. “Second, you know what I mean. Talking to you. I like…” She pauses, colour flooding her cheeks again. “I like spending time with you, Zave.”

  “I like spending time with you, too,” I mutter before I can stop myself. “More than I fucking should.”

  Lips pressed into a thin line, she stares at me for a second and then takes my hand in hers. When I don’t pull away—even though I know I should—she crawls into my lap so that she’s straddling me. My heart thumps in my chest as she wraps her arms around my neck.

  “What are you doing?” I rasp.

  “What does it look like I’m doing?”

  God, she’s so close that I can smell the soft scent of her shampoo—roses and musk. I suck in a breath and expel it as her fingers toy with my hair. She’s so bold and sure of herself, which makes it so fucking easy to forget who she is, how young she is… how wrong this is.

  She angles herself closer so our faces are almost touching as she gazes into my eyes, daring me to tell her to stop. But I can’t. I don’t want her to stop.

  Right now, I want to kiss her more than anything. Who the fuck cares if we’re sitting in the rain on the side of the road where anyone could see us? I should care, but I don’t. I’m sick of caring. I’m sick of fighting my feelings for this girl that keep growing by the second. It’s not going to end or get easier.

  Her palm on my face and her thumb resting against my chin, she guides my face up to hers, pressing her parted lips against mine, her tongue, soft and incredible, melting against mine. God, I want this more than anything, but my conscience just can’t let go. We can’t do this. I can’t do this. Not to Aaron.

  “Sofie, this hasn’t changed anything.” I gasp, lifting her off me.

  I never should have agreed to this. Nothing’s changed since this morning. I’m still fucking attracted to her, so why in God’s name did I say yes? I can’t remember the last time I wanted someone so badly, but that doesn’t make it right to act on those feelings.

  “I’m your dad’s best friend. I’m still married and I’m more than twice your age—”

  “I don’t care about any of that,” she protests.

  “Maybe not now, but how about when your dad disowns you for being with me? Will you be okay with that?” She looks away. “I didn’t think so.”

  “He’ll get used to the idea.”

  She’s clutching at straws now, reaching out for anything to hold on to that will keep this spark alive, but eventually, it will fizzle out, like a tiny candle flame struggling to stay alive in a waterfall. She knows as well as I do, there’s no future for us. There are too many things fighting against us.

  “Once he sees how much we mean to each other—”

  “Jesus, Sofie, grow the fuck up. He’s never going to be okay with us,” I snap.

  Hurt clouds her eyes as she backs off. I want to comfort her, but I don’t. Swallowing the hard lump in my throat, I get to my feet and put my hand out for her.

  “We should go,” I mutter. “Before we both do something we’ll regret.”

  “Speak for yourself.” She reluctantly takes my hand, and pulls herself to her feet, but she does it with a little too much force and tumbles into me. “Because I don’t regret anything.”

  I stare at her, one hand still gripping her arm, the other resting on the curve of her back, using every last bit of strength to stop myself from kissing her again, because fuck, I want to so bad. The way she’s biting down on her lip and looking at me all innocent is driving me crazy.

  Letting go of her, I walk over to my car and get in. She follows a few seconds later, slamming the door so hard it shudders through me. I start the engine and drive us back, neither of us speaking a word.

  I feel like I’m losing my fucking mind. I’m not getting enough sleep since I’m at the bar for so long. Between the lack of sleep and the sexual frustration I’m feeling from holding myself back so much, it physically hurts. I honestly don’t know how much longer I can hold out. I’m either going to explode, give in, or kill myself trying to keep away from her.

  I have no idea what’s going to break first.

  Chapter 11

  Sofie

  Leaning my head back, I sigh as the water runs over my face, the side effects from another poor night’s sleep finally beginning to ease. I didn’t even bother waking up early today because, what’s the point? I need to forget about him and focus on my exams, or all my hard work will be for nothing. Who knows, maybe by then he’ll have figured out what the hell he wants.

  I step out of the shower and reach for my towel, securing it around me, then I walk back th
rough to my room to get dressed. I grab my school dress and toss it on the bed, then rummage through my underwear drawer.

  “Fuck,” I hiss, slamming it shut.

  In a huff, I pile my dirty clothes into an empty basket and then with one hand juggling the basket against my hip and the other clutching the towel, I head downstairs to the laundry where I’m pretty sure I have some washing in the dryer.

  It’s after eight already and I’m sure Zave is long gone, so when I turn into the kitchen and see him sitting at the table, I nearly have a heart attack. My heart thumps because the one time I’m legitimately not trying to seek him out, of course he’s here.

  “Oh, hey,” I casually say, like I’m not draped in a towel. “I didn’t think you’d be here.”

  Goosebumps prickle my skin as I clutch the towel tighter. His eyes travel down my body and I stiffen, aware the white fabric is barely long enough to cover my ass. I sink my teeth into my lower lip, my eyes narrowing as they lock on his.

  “We run into each other every morning, Sofie,” he mutters. “You make damn well sure of it.”

  “Please,” I scoff. “You’ve made a habit of getting out of here before the sun is even up. It’s after eight, is it really that crazy that I’d think I had this place all to myself?”

  “You know exactly what you were doing,” he rumbles. “Why else would you strut down here wearing nothing but a towel?”

  “Because my underwear is in the goddamned dryer,” I retort, my temper flaring. “And what would you rather I strut down here wearing? Nothing?”

  Out of nowhere, he leaps up from his place at the counter and grabs my wrist, sending my basket of clothes flying everywhere. He backs me against the cool metal of the cabinets behind me. My heart pounds as I stare up at him, my cheeks heating at how close he is to me, how little there is between us.

  His fingers trail down my collarbone and rest over my breasts, where the two ends of the towel overlap. I look him dead in the eye and reach forward, my fingertips following the outline of his stiff cock, which is pressed up against his pants. He sucks in a breath, his eyes darkening. I shiver. The way he’s looking at me sends tingles surging through my body. My nipples harden as he loosens the towel, his eyes levelled on mine. My heart thumps in my chest.

  This is really happening.

  “You want this, Sofie?” He asks in a low, gravelly voice. I lean forward in response, pressing my thigh against his erection. “You really think you can handle me? I’m not just some soft-cock kid who blows his load in two seconds flat. I’m a man. I fuck hard and fast. When I fuck you, I promise you won’t be able to walk straight for a week.”

  When… not if.

  “I want it,” I whimper. He grips hold of my chin, lifting my lips to his. I breathe in his warm breath as his mouth grazes mine, my legs nearly giving way beneath me.

  “Tell me you’ve thought about the consequences,” he demands, growling as I brush my lips over his. He tastes good, even better than I remember. “Your friends… your dad, they’ll never look at you the same again. People will whisper and talk behind your back and make you doubt our connection. I need you to be sure, Sofie. I need you to be really fucking sure you want this.”

  I freeze, just for the tiniest moment, as his words sink in, but it’s long enough for him to catch the uncertainty in my eyes.

  “You’re not sure,” he murmurs, letting me go. Stepping back, he curses under his breath, his hands balled into fists. He turns around and swears again, then he turns back to me. He’s really angry and I’m not sure which one of us it’s directed at. “You need to fucking stop this, Sofie. Right now. No more games.”

  “Zave, I am—”

  But he’s already gone. I stare after him, my body trembling with anger over what just happened. He’s so quick to dismiss me as a child, someone who doesn’t know what she wants, but the thing is, I do know what I want. Showing fear or anxiety doesn’t make me indecisive. It means I’ve actually put some real thought into my decision. I’ve considered all the consequences for my actions and it’s only strengthened how much I want him, but I didn’t get a chance to tell him any of that.

  Maybe he’s the one who isn’t sure.

  Maybe he needs to figure out what the fuck he wants, instead of projecting onto me.

  “Yo, open up!”

  I look over to see Quinn’s face pressed up against the screen door, her nose squished into the flywire. She wasn’t at school today, so I invited her to come over here and study. She was supposed to be here nearly two hours ago, but I guess it’s better late than never.

  I’ve spent the whole afternoon staring at my textbook, but I’ve gotten nowhere because I can’t stop thinking about Zave. He frustrates the hell out of me and he’s always getting under my skin, and when we kiss, I lose sight of everything else. When his lips touch mine, it feels like an explosion of fireworks are bursting through my bloodstream. My stomach flips, I feel tingles, see stars… I experience every cliché possible and I lose control in the best kind of way.

  I know being with him is supposed to be wrong, but how can it be when it feels so right? I’m an adult, old enough to make my own decisions—legally and emotionally—and if I want Zave and he wants me… why does it have to be so hard? He’s so sure Dad wouldn’t understand, but what if he does? What if we’re missing out on something amazing because he won’t even give us a chance?

  “It’s open,” I call out to her. “And you’re late.”

  “I know.” She makes a face, sinking down onto the floor next to me, her backpack in her lap. “I would’ve been here earlier, but I had to deal with a situation.”

  “A situation?” I giggle. “That sounds ominous.”

  She rolls her eyes. “I wasn’t at school because Dad kind of caught Andy in my room last night and he flipped out.”

  “I thought your parents were cool with anything?”

  “Apparently, that doesn’t extend to my boyfriend sleeping over.” She sighs. “He didn’t even mean to stay, we just kind of fell asleep.”

  “And your dad walked in on what, exactly?” I wiggle my eyebrows.

  “Not that. Thank fucking God.” She shudders. “But then he made Mum take me to the doctors to discuss options, even though I told him I was on the pill and that we always use condoms.” She shakes her head and sighs. “Not that it’s any of his fucking business, since I’m eighteen, but try telling him that.”

  My cheeks go warm as I imagine Dad catching Zave and I together. That shit would not go down well. But, hey, at least I’m already on the pill. I have been for years, thanks to my heavy periods.

  “Why are you going red?” Quinn’s eyes narrow, which makes my face even warmer. I’m hopeless at keeping secrets, especially from my best friend. “Okay, spill. Right now, Sofie Jenkins,” she demands, folding her arms over her chest.

  “What?” I protest. Her eyes are trained on me, her lips pursed, like she’s determined to get it out of me. “It’s nothing.”

  “Bullshit it’s nothing. Tell me.”

  I groan because she knows me too well. She can smell a lie a mile away.

  “Fine,” I mumble, putting my hands over my face. “I may have kissed Zave.”

  The muffled words seep out through my fingers. When she doesn’t react, I peek through them to find her staring at me, her mouth hanging open. The look of surprise on her face is so comical, I almost laugh.

  “What?” Quinn shrieks, finally finding her voice. “How? When?”

  “At my party,” I admit, bringing my hands down to my lap.

  “But… that was ages ago!” Quinn sputters, reaching over to slap my arm. “How am I just hearing about it now?”

  I pull up my shoulders, trying not to have a mini-meltdown under Quinn’s scrutiny. I’m not sure why I’ve waited until now to tell her. She’s my best friend; I usually tell her everything. Maybe I was worried how she’d react because he’s so much older than me?

  “Because it doesn’t matter,” I say. “He�
��s not interested.”

  “You’re not getting out of it that easily. Tell me everything.”

  “There really isn’t that much to tell,” I say, regretting telling her anything at all. “We kissed—” I pause. “Well, technically we’ve kissed three times now—”

  “What?” Quinn gasps. “So, what, you just keep falling onto his mouth?”

  “Of course not.” I roll my eyes. “Yesterday, I kissed him, but then he pushed me away. I was all ready to give up on him, when this morning, he kissed me.” My heart races as I remember how good it felt. “He asked me if I was sure I wanted him… I hesitated, he backed right off.”

  “And the first time?” She presses. “At the party?”

  “We were interrupted…” I wet my lips, realising just how bad the next part sounds. “By his wife.”

  “I thought he was married.” Quinn breathes, her eyes so wide I’m worried they’ll pop out. “Wow, girl, I don’t even know what to say… you’ve got balls, that’s for sure.” She shakes her head like it’s still sinking in. “So, what’s it like?”

  “What?” I ask, confused.

  “You know, kissing someone so much older than you, not to mention, your father’s friend. You’ve known him all your life and he’s like super old… you have to admit, it’s a little bit kinky.”

  There’s no judgement in her voice, but her words sit uncomfortably in my stomach. If my best friend thinks me being with Zave is kinky, what is everyone else going to think?

  “Sofe, I didn’t mean anything bad. I actually think it’s hot.”

  “I know.” I brush off my anxieties and give her a smile. “It doesn’t matter, anyway. I told you, he’s not interested.”

  Quinn gives me a thoughtful look. “He kisses you. He asked if you wanted it to go further. Obviously, he’s interested. You just need to convince him that you are serious.”

  “I tried that. He won’t listen.” I frown. “It’s like he’s using my tiny hesitation as an excuse, like it’s my fault.”

  Quinn shrugs. “Then do something to get his attention.”