12/20/16

THE FIRE CRACKLES next to us as our bodies remain tangled next to the flames. We're lying on a blanket, barely clothed after a third round of earth shattering pleasure.

Once wasn't enough and we quickly realized that. We both only wanted more, to chase the feeling that filled us when our bodies came together. It was addicting the way he made me feel desired yet out of control at the same time. He took charge with his body, and spoke commands with a tone that made my toes curl. Every touch, every kiss, every stroke made the fire between us blaze until we only craved more of each other.

He is an animal and a god all wrapped into a beautiful man with a broken heart.

We also know this won't last, so we lay next to the flickering heat to pretend it can. Pretend it can last longer, that we maybe can feel this. Have this. Need this.

Clayton's fingers graze against my arm as my body curls into his. I am only wearing my T-shirt, and he is only wearing his boxer briefs. We are clothed and yet still so naked in every way that truly matters. Our souls were bared to each other, and it scares me and entices me all at once to be this close to someone. To show them all my broken bits and have them not run away, and still want me.

We have been sitting in silence for a while now, letting the sounds of our heartbeats and soft breaths be the only thing to fill the air between us. We lay entwined in one another watching the flames begin to dim around us as the fire begins to fizzle out, just as this night has to at some point. There are so many thoughts crowding my head, but one sticks out the most. One that should be brought up first. Probably brought up before things went this far.

"I'm um...." I begin trailing off uncomfortably. "Clean by the way and on the pill," I finish off as my fingers that once were tracing over his bare chest pause their motion waiting for a reaction. I get tested regularly and haven't slept with anyone in the last month, and I always make my partners use condoms. Well, expect Clayton.

He clears his throat at the obviously awkward conversation I began, though a necessary one. A sigh expels from this lips before he responds after a few loud heartbeats. "I am also," he replies. "I haven't slept with anyone in a while," he adds.

I lift my head lightly so that my eyes can lock on his, and see his expression that he so vividly holds in his honeyed eyes. "Since Scarlett?" I ask timidly knowing I may be overstepping my boundaries.

His jaw locks and his eyes harden at the mention of her name. "I tried after she passed a couple times to connect with someone in that manner, but I just never could," he tells me, showing me another layer of him. It's as if I'm slowly peeling back and exposing parts of him he even forgot about. I nod and decide not to push that topic any further tonight. I lay my head back down on his shoulder, and let my fingers once again trail against his heated skin.

His words shouldn't send a bolt of elation through me, but they do. He tried sleeping with other women. He tried to move on, but couldn't. But he could with me. With me he could let out the beast he's been keeping inside him. Hungry and ready to unleash, and he did just that to me in what is hands down the best sex I've ever had. But was it good for him? Was it as good as he remembered? Better?

I close my eyes tightly hating the line of questions that are filling my head so I immediately push them away.

"I read The Green Mile," I blurt out quietly in attempts to change the subject, and pull me back from edge I seem to teeter on with him. Because I'm dangerously close to either asking a wildly inappropriate question or whispering three little words to him that will ruin everything. So I tell him this and let his fingers continue to caress the tanned skin of my bare hip.

"And?" he responds simply.

"It was sad," I breathe. "But beautiful the way he changed their lives," I explain trying to muddle through all the thoughts that fill me about the book.

"Yeah," he huffs out in agreement.

"Clayton," I say his name after a pause. His fingers still against my skin at the singular word, and he let's them dip into my skin as they hold onto my hip tightly awaiting what comes next. I once again lift my head and reach up to place my hand on his cheek, letting the stubble rake against my palm. A small blush fills my cheeks as I remember the feel of his stubble brushing between my thighs.

I turn his face ever so slightly so that his eyes are focused on mine, holding onto mine.

The flickering flames reflect in his liquid eyes making me melt even more. I let myself watch them dance as I fall and lose myself in his eyes, in his heat. Completely lose my heart and soul to a man I shouldn't even be touching in the first place.

I wet my lips gently with my tongue. I want to tell him the truth, to admit to everything. But my friendship with Chase holds me back as my fingers continue to stroke Clayton's cheek.

"It's okay," he whispers as he can see my obvious struggle to find words in this moment. This moment that should be so perfect, this moment that I waited a year for, this moment that's breaking my heart more then I care to admit.

Tears prick at my eyes causing a small sniffle to fill the air between us. "Is it?" I question back with glittering eyes.

"It will be," he replies before letting his lips land on mine. Where they belong I've come to realize. Realize that no one's lips have ever fit so perfectly, felt so right, so complete.

And without another word we come together once again. We love each other's bodies and hearts in a way our voices can't yet speak. Explain.

We love in the horrible mess we have created for each other. A mess we don't want to admit yet.

We love in the ruins of a relationship that can never be.

* * * * *

"Ugh," I groan at the sound of Chase's alarm going off for the millionth time. I pull my pillow over my head in attempts to block out the sound. "Turn it off," I complain as exhaustion sweeps though me.

Staying up all night and letting Clayton touch, kiss, and fuck me in ways I didn't even know existed probably wasn't the smartest idea I've ever had.

But I don't regret one thing. I can't. Because the way I felt last night, the way I know I will never feel again brings tears to my eyes as my heart mourns the few hours that changed everything. That changed me.

"Stop being so crabby," Chase snips at me as he rolls over and taps the alarm clock on his phone to turn it off.

"If you don't want me crabby you could at least go get me coffee if you're going to wake me up at this ungodly hour," I practically whine as I roll over to face my best friend and his wildly messy hair.

"It's almost ten Hayley," he deadpans at me.

I lift a single brow. "Exactly," I state. "Ungodly," I emphasize dramatically.

Chase rolls his eyes at me playfully before a serious glint fills his eyes. His expression makes my body prick with a sudden awareness.

Does he know what happened last night?

I hate that this is what first thought that comes to mind, that I'm hiding another part of myself from my friend. That I have another secret to fill my anxious bones and worried mind.

"What's wrong?" I murmur almost afraid to hear his response.

He tilts his head so his eyes are holding onto mine. "I've been talking with Brad," he tells me with a sigh.

"Who?" I question not knowing whom he's referring to that suddenly turned him so serious.

"Mr. Frat Boy," he says annoyed at my nickname for his on and off again hookup at school.

"Oh," I trail wondering where this was going. He had cut it off with Frat Boy, or Brad, before winter break hating the hot and cold. Chase blamed it on still being confused, but I know it was more then that.

"Yeah," he drawls. "He...um...he came out the other week to his family," he finally tells me.

"Wow," I breathe with wide eyes. Coming out in general is such a hard moment, but I've met Brad a few times at Chase's apartment. And if Chase is afraid to tell his loving family, Brad had to be terrified. He comes from a family with old money, and a father who's a pastor and a mother who was in office. That moment is so tough to begin with, but the pressure of coming out to a family like that has to be scary.

"How did it go?" I ask. I know most of Brad's brothers in his fraternity know of his sexuality, and while it took them some getting used to many of them never wavered on their friendship with him. But college friends and family are two very different hills to climb in life when coming to terms with that part of oneself.

I can see the tears rise in Chase's hazel eyes. "They cried, and it took them a moment. He said they were in shock, but told him that they loved him no matter what," he tells me his words getting caught in the growing lump in his throat.

"Chase," I whisper as I wrap my arm around his bare torso.

"I've been calling myself bi, saying I'm confused, when I know I'm not," he cries out softly. "I love women but not in the way I should. Because when I'm around Brad—"

"You feel alive," I finish for him. "Completed," the word flies from my lips in addition. The words so easily fall from my lips, because it's how I feel with Clayton. A dash of fear fills me wondering if I ever will find that with someone else, someone who gets the dark parts of me as well as the light.

"Exactly!" Chase exclaims as if a stole the words right out of his mouth.

"So does that mean you're going to tell your parents?" I ask suddenly way to eager to hear his answer. Maybe if he tells him I can be with Clayton. But then doubt whips through me because would he even want to be with me in the real world? I'm still a mess. I'm still broken, could he ever love someone like me when he had perfection once? He had the love of his life, he said he will never be the same. Does that mean he will never love anyone ever again? A piece of my heart shatters at that thought.

Chase shakes his head. "Not yet, but soon," he states. "I've just come to terms with who I am, I just need a moment to let that soak in. That I'm...I'm...." he trails as if he's afraid to say the word that will define the rest of his life.

I weave my fingers through his and squeeze once letting all my strength transfer over to my best friend. Because right now he needs it more then I do.

"It's okay Chase," I croon. "You can say it," I tell him as reassurance coats my words.

His Adam's apple quivers slightly before his lips form the words that he's lived in fear of for so long. "I'm gay," he says so quietly the words are almost inaudible.

But I hear him. He hears him, and as soon as the words escape tears break and fall down his cheeks in salty waves.

"I'm gay," he repeats as a big smile blooms across his handsome face.

We both sit up at the same time and embrace each other tightly. Holding on to each other, letting one another anchor us in this wild world we live in.

"I'm free," he mutters under his breath and I feel tears well up in my eyes at the statement.

Because my best friend is free of the shackles that once held him back from being the best version of himself because he was afraid of what the public would perceive him as. His family. But he's finally come to terms with his true self, and is beginning to love his true self.

But at the same time here I sit slowly trying to fix and mend my broken life from the death of my father. Trying to learn how to feel and love and heal without pain and fear. And even with all of that I can't have whom I truly want.

I can't have the one man who taught me to feel.

To love.