Home > Pull (Seaside #2)(24)

Pull (Seaside #2)(24)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

She made it sound so easy. As if I could just snap my fingers and all the nightmares would disappear. I sighed and hung my head. Instantly I felt her warm body pressed against mine and then her lips were pressed against my cheek. I missed everything about her — the way she smelled, the way her lips felt against my skin.

Hell, I would move heaven and earth for this girl. She had to know what I felt for her, what I would do for her.

“Thanks,” I mumbled as she pulled away.

She shrugged and blushed. Damn, it was hot when she blushed. “For what?”

“Making me feel better.”

“It’s the least I can do.”

“And what’s the most?” I pulled her back into my body and slowly walked backwards until we were against the wall and out of earshot of the rest of the crowd.

“T-the what?” she stuttered.

“The most.” I leaned in and smelt her hair, then trailed my nose against the outside of her jaw, as my lips nibbled down toward her mouth.

Alyssa closed her eyes and then tilted her head back. I kissed her exposed neck. She gasped. My fingers bunched her shirt as I started to lift it.

Someone cleared his throat.

She pushed me away.

I wanted to kill whoever just interrupted us. I turned slowly and came face to face with Bob. Yeah, I’d lose in a fight with him.

He lifted an eyebrow and peered at both of us while crossing his arms. Why did I suddenly feel like I just got caught doing something wrong? I mumbled a curse and stepped around him, grabbing Alyssa’s hand in the process.

Bob’s chuckle followed us into the living room. It irritated the hell out of me. My body was hot and cold all at once. I just wanted to be with Alyssa, not lead the stupid group or have to worry about all the paparazzi outside.

“Look…” I took a deep breath and sat down. Everyone was drinking soda and munching on popcorn. “I had no idea about this whole reality show thing. Just so we’re clear. We can still meet, but I think it might be smart for us to start meeting at someone else’s house, considering the circumstances.”

“We can meet at mine,” Alyssa piped up and winked.

Man, I loved her.

What the hell?

I felt my mouth drop open at the realization. No. No way.

No way did I just say that in my head. I ran my fingers through my hair and cleared my throat. “Um, okay. Thanks, Alyssa. That’s really cool of you.” Deep breaths, Demetri, deep breaths. “So today I want to talk about regret.”

Mrs. Murray had reminded me in our last counseling session that it was important for people to voice something they regretted not doing or saying to the person they lost. It had taken me three months to finally go through with the process of writing my ex- girlfriend a letter. I bawled for days and ate more taffy than I cared to admit.

“What do you mean?” Aaron asked, grabbing a piece of paper and pencil.

I hated opening up, but it seemed like the only way to get them to understand things was to use myself as a guinea pig. Great.

Hopefully, I don’t cry like a girl. “I lost my dad when I was little.

He had cancer. But we knew he was sick. I have to admit I suck around sick people. I think I’m traumatized from being around the hospital so much, but the point is we knew it was coming. We knew he was terminally ill. Therefore, my brother and I were able to say goodbye, we were able to have no regrets with him.” I blew out a shaky breath and continued. “I mean, I still regret that he didn’t get to see my brother and me grow up, but that was beyond my control. My dad didn’t get stolen from me. I didn’t wake up one day to find him missing from my life. When you go through the type of grief where a person is suddenly ripped away from you, it feels like a part of your soul is missing. You look back and wonder what you could have said or done, did they know how you felt?

Were they aware that you cared for them? Did you just get into a fight? Those are the type of regrets I’m talking about. I know this sounds like a lot of psychological bullshit, but Mrs. Murray’s awesome at this stuff, and I know it really helped me.”

“It helped you?” Aaron narrowed his eyes. I shifted in my seat.

Holly patted him on the hand and nodded. “I like it. Come on, Aaron. Let’s go over and sit in the corner and decide what we’re going to write.”

Soon everyone was dispersed around the room. Everyone, but Alyssa.

“Are you okay?” I tapped her on the leg with a pencil. I wanted to hold her, but she suddenly looked like the last thing she wanted was for anyone to touch her.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” she whispered under her breath.

I shrugged. “Just try. I’m going to go over there.” I pointed to the kitchen. “Far, far away, so you can have your privacy, okay?

Just write what’s on your heart.”

She nodded and I walked off feeling like crap. I hated that bastard, and I hated myself for hating him. I hated her for loving him, but most of all I hated the connection I knew they still shared.

Chapter Twenty-three

Alyssa

The sheet of paper was blank. I know Demetri was trying to give me my space so I could write my letter. But I honestly had so many regrets with Brady, I didn’t even know where to start. It felt like my heart was going to explode the minute Demetri mentioned the word regret. It was like he could see right through me when his gaze met mine.

I was too ashamed to look at him.

I knew there was still this invisible chord that held my soul connected to Brady’s, even though he wasn’t here. I may as well have a sign plastered across my face that said, “A part of me still loves my ex-boyfriend and always will.”

Demetri took those feelings away, and yes I knew I needed to heal, to move away from the past, but the minute he said regret I was tempted to jump back into old habits, because my biggest regret thus far, the one that still kept me up at night, was the very thing I’d never voiced to anyone before.

My hand shook as I clenched the pencil between my fingers.

My knuckles turned white from the pressure. Sighing, I wrote one word. And in that one word every regret fit beneath.

Living.

I regretted living. Every damn day.

Staring at the word made me nauseous. All the memories flooded back — his smile, his laugh, his cocky attitude. Everything was so real in my mind, it was almost as if he was there with me on the couch. He should have been there. Suddenly angry, I wrote another word on my paper.

Hate.

I hated that he was taken from me when he was so young. I hated that I was forced to live with this grief. I hated that the only person I could blame was myself, but that even then I knew accidents happened.

A tear slid down my cheek, with shaking hands I wrote down another word.

Virginity.

Something he never got the chance to take from me. One of the many things I was never able to give him. He wouldn’t let me.

He said I was too young. Brady always refused to talk about sex. I knew he’d had sex. He wasn’t exactly a saint, but I admired that he didn’t pretend to be. He was always freakishly honest about the temptation of being the star quarterback. Girls threw themselves at him the way girls threw themselves at Demetri, except in ridiculously smaller doses. He had dated a lot of girls before me.

“Why can’t we?” I begged. Okay, begging was so lame, but I loved him, didn’t he love me too?

“Believe me.” He laughed. “I would love nothing more, but you’re so young, Alyssa. You need time to figure yourself out, and if in the end I’m still the one you want, then I’ll gladly take you up on that offer. But until then…” He sighed and kissed me on the cheek. “I just can’t do it.

Not when you don’t know about my past, about everything. It just wouldn’t be right.”

“So you’re rejecting me?” I slid away from him and looked out the window of the truck as a tear ran down my cheek.

He cursed and pulled me back into his arms, even though I fought him every inch of the way. “Stop crying,” he said gently. “Believe me, any guy who had no respect for you and no damn morals would have you in that backseat in an instant.”

“Your truck doesn’t have a backseat.”

“You know what I mean. Look at me, Alyssa.”

Begrudgingly, I turned and glared.

He laughed. “Remind me never to piss you off.”

“You’re pissing me off now.”

“Alyssa.” He moaned and then kissed me lightly on the lips. “Let me put it this way. I’m not ready to take that from you yet. You know my reputation before I met you. I just couldn’t live with myself if I messed up a good thing. And what we have is more than good. Okay?”

I nodded. I mean, I understood I guess. I just felt semi-rejected that he hadn’t wanted me. But maybe this was more.

“I want it to be me.” Brady cursed and shook his head. “You have no idea. And I don’t know what’s holding me back other than my own hang-ups and the fact that you look so damn innocent sitting there. But in the end… if something ever happened, I don’t know, at college, or if you decided you didn’t want to be with me anymore. It would kill me to know that what we shared wasn’t going to be forever.”

“Don’t be silly.” I rolled my eyes and kissed him firmly on the mouth. “We’ll be together forever.”

I glanced up at Demetri through watery eyes. He was patiently standing in the kitchen pretending to be immersed in reading a magazine while we all poured our hearts out.

What would his paper say? I looked down at mine again and sighed. Would his letter be to his ex-girlfriend? One thing was for sure. I didn’t want him to read my paper. It would kill him and I couldn’t hurt him. He didn’t deserve the hurt that came with being associated with me. Yet, I craved him, cared for him, needed him more than I was ready or willing to admit. Was it selfish that I held on to him? All the insecurities of the night before came flooding back.

I stood and walked over to him. His eyes snapped up and that devastating grin, the one that made me want to wrap my arms around him and never let go, appeared on his face. “Finished?”

“Yes.” I folded my paper and put it on the table. “You’re right. It was good to write some things down.” Even though it almost killed me to admit any of the things I just admitted.

“Say it again.”

“It was good to write some things down?” I grinned, enjoying the way he was trying to tease me out of my sadness.

He scowled and shook his head, this time leaning down and whispering in my ear, his lips moving just against the tip causing butterflies to shoot through my stomach. “The other part.”

“You’re right?”

“Damn straight, I’m right.” His tongue touched my ear and flicked it before he sucked for a few seconds then abruptly pulled back.

Bob cleared his throat and glared at us. Thankfully everyone else was still immersed in their note writing, and I was ready to fall into a puddle at Demetri’s feet. How did he make me feel so crazy?

For a brief second I forgot all about the note I just wrote about regrets. My body reacted to Demetri the way that electricity reacts when a live wire is exposed. Everything felt good, and I wanted more and more of him.

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