Till It Hurts by Cora Brent
Jace
Now
Ihave no regrets.
That’s the first thought in my head when I wake up and instantly flash back to last night. I’m not sorry that I kissed her. And touched her. And fucked her. And licked her. And then fucked her again. I loved every smutty second and I know she did too.
I’m also not sorry that I held her. And stroked her skin. And surrendered to the demands of my heart. I’m not sorry that I told the complete truth for the first time in a very long while.
God knows I’ve missed you too.
No one is the same ten years after high school and we’re no different. In many important ways we hardly know each other. I’ve been an unstoppable juggernaut of ambition and in the process I’ve abandoned central pieces of myself. Tori makes me wish to find those lost pieces.
And I want to know her again. If she’ll let me.
Tori is motionless while asleep, except for the steady cadence of her breathing. She’s so easy to hold and to want. My thumb touches the gentle slope of her cheekbone as she slumbers on my chest. It’s the side of her face with the faint scars that she tries to hide when she’s conscious. I’m hoping she’ll confide in me. I’m also wondering if I should call off the private investigator I hired to look into whatever trauma sent her running back here to Arcana. She has secrets. I’m sure of it.
Don’t we all?
While I wouldn’t mind lying here all morning and enjoying the feel of Tori’s body as I wait for her to wake up, McClane has other ideas. He yawns and trots over to the side of the bed to stare at us. I’m afraid he might bark so I press a finger to my lips. Most dogs wouldn’t have a clue what that means but my dog is not most dogs. He sits on his hind legs, licks his snout and waits. I could swear he’s raising a knowing eyebrow at me.
With much care, I work on easing my way out of bed without disturbing Tori. When my feet hit the floor, McClane looks away as if the sight of my nudity is humiliating.
Since my boxers are not wearable after abusing them as a semen sponge, I swipe them off the floor and wander down the hall to find something clean. McClane scratches at the back door and I let him out. Tori continues to dream away on the sofa bed with no sign of awakening so I decide to jump in the shower.
The hot water feels excellent on my muscles after last night’s sexual acrobatics. In fact, I feel excellent all around. I’m sure I could climb Everest or fire off the great American novel. I’m even whistling as I pull on jeans and a shirt.
My mind is on breakfast when I return to the living room to look in on Tori. She’s awake. She’s sitting up in bed, covers pulled over her breasts, exquisite as can be. There’s something in her hand, a piece of paper, but she sets it down and clutches the sheet to her body as she greets me with shyness.
“Hi.”
I sit on the bed and aim for a quick kiss. “Hi.”
She smiles after our lips meet and then points to the floor. “Can you do me a favor and hand me my sweatshirt and pajama pants?”
I do as she asks, and even though I’m hungry for another view of her body, I turn away while she dresses because it seems like that’s what she wants right now.
“Want some coffee?” I ask her, opting to give her some privacy by moving to the kitchen.
She groans. “I would kill for coffee.”
Gloria’s coffee machine likely predates my birth, but it still functions and it’s percolating away in less than a minute. I’m not a regular coffee drinker myself so I haul out the blender to make my daily protein drink.
“I found this old picture last week,” Tori says, holding up the piece of paper she was examining moments earlier.
I’ve got the eyes of an eagle and from here I can see it’s a photo of the three of us; me and her and Colt. The three musketeers. It’s true that Colt was the one who was always credited with the best friend title, but I spent nearly as much time with Tori growing up, long before there was anything romantic between us.
She carries the photo to the table and takes a seat. She draws her knees up to her chest and smiles when I present her with a mug of coffee after heaping two teaspoonfuls of sugar in because I’ve seen her do the same. Then I decide to really be a hero and pour her a bowl of cereal. This broadens her smile even more.
“What is that stuff?” she asks me when I sit across from her with the glass I filled from the blender.
“Whey protein powder.” I drain half the glass in three swallows.
“Looks like glue,” she observes and shovels some cornflakes into her mouth.
I finish the glass and wink at her. “Keeps me big and strong.”
She mulls that over. “It works. You’re certainly strong. And… big.”
Now she’s asking for it. I’d like to toss that cereal bowl to the floor and bend her over the table.
Yet I don’t want to start the day like that. We’re in a new and uncertain place. We need to talk.
“I’m glad last night happened,” I tell her.
She bites her lip and hugs her knees closer. “Yes, me too.” She props her chin atop her knees and blushes.
I grin. “What are you thinking about?”
“You,” she admits and then she kind of fidgets. “But I don’t want to make assumptions. You know, about last night or anything else. I was nervous when I woke up this morning.”
“How come?”
“I didn’t know how things would be with us.”
I reach for her hand, which is not easy since she’s got her arms wrapped around her body in an iron grip. But she loosens up and allows me to lace our fingers together.
“Will you have dinner with me tonight?” I ask her.
She’s startled. “Dinner? Like a date?”
“Yeah.” I stand up and pull her to her feet so I can gaze down into her face. “I know this great pizza place that by some miracle has survived for decades. They have the best stuffed crust pies.”
“Topped with meatballs and sausage,” she adds.
“Of course. Your favorite.”
Her eyes shine and her lip trembles. “I would love to go out with you tonight, Jace.”
“Good.” I kiss her forehead. I want to do more. I’m sure I could take more right now. And as much as my self control suffers a hit when she’s close, I manage to summon enough to keep my hands to myself.
Tori hugs me. Then she pulls back and gives me a brilliant smile that electrifies my heart.
McClane scratches at the back door.
“I’ll get him,” she says.
I work on cleaning up the breakfast dishes and filling up the dog’s food dish while Tori searches through her suitcases.
“There are closets you could put your stuff in,” I remind her.
“True.” She stands up and surveys the living room. “Maybe I’ll move some things to the spare bedroom so I feel like less of a vagrant.”
She could move into Gloria’s room anytime she wants. It’s the biggest, nicest bedroom in the house. I guess she can’t bring herself to go through my grandmother’s belongings any more than I can.
“Oh.” The sounds she makes is sad and she picks something up off the piano. It’s the picture that shattered last night. “I remember when Gloria made this.”
I do too. It’s a cross stitch Hellen Keller quote bordered by blue birds and sunflowers. Took her weeks of sitting in the armchair evening after evening.
“I’ll get a new frame for it when I’m out today. I was going to the store anyway to pick up a couple of deadbolts. I can put those on myself.”
She sets the broken frame down and kind of shivers as she looks to the door. That makes me wonder. I understand that having an unknown force crash into the front door late at night is frightening, but she seemed more than scared at the time. She was utterly petrified. And the Tori Malene I knew was never afraid of anything or anyone.
Before I can think of a tactful way to ask her, she sighs and lowers her head. “I’m going to take a shower.”
While she’s gone, I fold the couch up, open the blinds to get some light into the room and make a list of the things I need to buy while I’m out and about today. Then I remember how I also promised my old football coach that I’d stop by this afternoon. I’ve seen Coach Toledo once since I’ve been back in town but didn’t visit for long because he’d just come from one of his chemo treatments and he was worn out. He started out with lung cancer but it’s in a lot of other places now.
Tori is all smiles when she emerges from the shower wrapped in a soft grey robe with her hair in a towel. My focus immediately fastens to her loosely knotted robe belt. I think about how nice it would be to see that knot fall apart. My dick agrees.
“I think I’ll go up to Plainsfield,” she says as she removes the towel and shakes out her damp hair. “It’s been ages since I bought any new clothes at all.”
Without thinking, I fish my wallet out of my pocket, remove a wad of cash and drop it on the counter. “Here. Buy all the clothes.”
Fuck. I did that. I really just did that.
Tori and I didn’t come from money, either of us, and here I am flashing green in her face to remind her of what I have and she doesn’t. Even more cringeworthy is the fact that we just screwed our brains out last night. I might as well have said, ‘Haha, check out my millions. Now suck it.’
Tori lowers the towel. She stares at the money. Then she busts up laughing.
“You’ve become quite the show off, Third.” She throws the towel in my face.
I bat the towel away and seize her by the waist. She’s still giggling but she hooks her arms around my shoulders and we exchange a long, passionate kiss.
She breaks the kiss and beams up at me. “What time?”
“Huh?” I’m so hard right now I can’t concentrate on anything else.
“What time are we having dinner, dummy?”
“How’s six o’clock?”
“Great.” She kisses my cheek and struts away. “I’ll buy something sexy. Despite your claim that you wouldn’t be tempted if I had the last set of tits in Texas.”
She’s got me. I’m squirming over the reminder of my own words and I run a hand through my hair as I try to cobble together a comeback.
Tori laughs at me. “You’re blushing, Jace Zielinski.”
“And you’ve actually got the best set of tits in Texas, Victoria Malene.” Not my finest line. But still true.
She bares one shoulder and bats her eyes. “Only in Texas?” Then she blows me a kiss. “If you behave, maybe you’ll get to touch them again tonight.”
I can admit it; she drives me wild.
And if I stay here any longer I’m likely to toss romance out the window and beg to see her naked.
Number one on my list of chores is more security for the house. The nearest home improvement store is in Plainsfield, not far from the mall. For the trip I don my disguise, which is basically me looking like me in a stupid hat. First, I drive up and down Tumbleweed Lane a few times to make sure there are no enterprising fuckers lurking about and waiting for the chance to scare the hell out of Tori.
I’ve just hit the freeway when my father calls. Lately he’s been an even bigger pain in the ass than usual. Usually a wire transfer to his bank account fends him off but now he wants to talk. He’s furious that I haven’t committed to a contract yet. I should have cut the bastard loose years ago. My grandmother’s the reason why I didn’t. She could never bring herself to condemn him, no matter what kind of fucked up shit he did. It’s the one thing she and I really disagreed on.
Anyway, I’m in too good of a mood to listen to his garbage. The longer I’m in Arcana the less I feel like returning to the world of flashy stadiums and demanding reporters and getting the hell kicked out of my body for the sake of a win. Just ask my friend Leon how badly that can end. Being here makes me remember what my plans used to be. Being with Tori makes me remember even more than that.
By the time I’m finished shopping I’ve got a complete tool set and six different kinds of deadbolts to try, along with a mountain of window sensors and the best camera system I could find. Remembering my promise to Tori, I also pick up a stack of picture frames because I don’t remember what size is needed for the one that broke.
Her car is gone when I get home, so I guess she went on her shopping spree. The money I threw down is still on the kitchen counter. Getting the deadbolts on both the front and back doors is easy and the window sensors are a snap, but the cameras are a little more trouble than I bargained for. Still, it’s an improvement and I hope Tori feels more secure.
Three o’clock inches closer, which is the time I told my old coach I’d stop by. I feel like I should bring him something but I don’t know what you bring a man who’s losing his battle with death. I pay a visit to the lone flower shop in town and purchase a houseplant, along with a dozen roses for Tori. In addition, I swing by Giorgio’s and have a short chat with Steve Giorgio about tonight’s plans. He’s delighted to accommodate me.
Toledo is in better spirits today than he was last week when I visited, although it’s clear his chances of seeing another spring are low. Once a robust man with a booming voice that rebounded over the Arcana High athletic fields, Andrew Toledo now speaks in a low rasp and his clothes hang from his body like they were purchased for someone else. He does chuckle over the houseplant gift.
“Thing will probably outlive me,” he jokes and then asks me to come sit in the backyard.
He lives alone now, ever since his divorce years ago. His only daughter, Susanna, lives in San Antonio. She visits her father every chance she gets and has offered to move back to take care of him, but he stubbornly refuses.
“That girl is much better than this town,” he says and erupts into a coughing fit that sounds painful.
I get him a glass of water and he grimaces after drinking a few sips.
“Can I get you anything else?” I ask him, feeling somewhat helpless.
His dry lips stretch into a gloomy grin. “Twenty more years would be nice.”
Toledo asks me if I’ve decided what to do about next year and nods thoughtfully when I explain that I’m not feeling much motivation to return for another season. Back in the day, he would remind me daily that I was wasting my natural talent. He shoved me into the quarterback spot out of desperation when the team lost some of its star players and seemed destined for a losing season. Instead, we won a state championship. The memories surrounding those days are not ones I’m fond of replaying.
“I’ve heard the Malene girl is staying with you,” Toledo says.
“Yup, Tori’s at the house.”
He runs thin knuckles over his sunken cheek and stares at a bare spot of dirt in the yard. “And Colt?”
If I didn’t know the history, I might think the way his voice trembles is because of his disease instead of an undercurrent of emotion.
“No word from Colt. He moves around a lot.”
A ragged sigh from Toledo. Few people know how much he blames himself for the way Colt abandoned the sport he lived for. Colt didn’t even stay in high school for very long after the move to Bredon.
When five p.m. rolls around I need to excuse myself to get ready for my date with Tori.
My date.
When was the last time I called it that?
I’m sure it was a long time ago. And I’m sure it was with her.
After ensuring that Toledo is comfortably settled in his living room, I remind him that I’m only a phone call away if he needs anything. Once I’m in my truck I check my email and see one from the guy I hired to investigate Tori’s California troubles. He says he’s still working on the case. The problem is some of the records he’s trying to access aren’t instantly available. He’s greasing wheels and trying to cut the wait time but it’ll be at least another week, maybe two. I should just cut him a big check and tell him to forget it. If Tori finds out, she’ll assume I’m checking up because I don’t trust her. That’s not it. Somehow she worries me and I’m at a loss to explain why.
I’m excited on the short drive home, even more excited when I see her car parked outside. An instant later, a swift wave of uneasiness knocks into me. I’ve felt this way before. I remember all too well how it ended.
No, that was then. I’m sick of being held hostage by old wounds. She must be too.
There are a couple of shopping bags in the living room but Tori is closed into the bathroom with the water running. McClane paws at the door and pouts so I give him a biscuit and leave him to go get ready.
I’m not renown for my fashion sense. I’m a jeans and flannel kind of guy and on rare occasions I’ll stuff myself into a suit when forced to attend some high profile event, feeling all the while like I’m wrapped in a Halloween costume. Anyway, I didn’t bring any suits along for the trip so jeans will have to do, although I choose a grey button down shirt that’s a notch above plaid flannel.
I’ve left the roses in my truck and I dash out to grab them. The next time I walk through the door, a stunning vision is waiting.
Tori went shopping all right. Her dress is royal blue with a full skirt that reaches past her knees while the sleeves sit just off her shoulders. The color brings out her eyes and the top shows off her breasts in a way that gets me going instantly. Her hair, which is no longer a faded version of pink but once again her natural color, hangs loose in waves and she’s wearing sexy black heels.
Be still my heart.
“Holy shit,” are my words of wisdom as I nearly drop the rose bouquet.
She holds her hands behind her back and smiles at me bashfully. “You look nice.”
“And you’re gorgeous.” I walk over to her and when I hand over the flowers I’m aware we’ve performed this exact same scene before.
Tori is charmed by the roses. Wait until she sees what else I’ve arranged.
“Let me get a sweater,” she says as she looks through one of her bags. “I think it’s going to be a little cool out tonight.”
“I’ll keep you warm,” I promise and she smirks.
“Counting on it.” She drapes a black cardigan over her shoulders and takes my arm. “Shall we?”
I’m all about the manners tonight. I open the passenger door for her and wait until she’s settled before shutting it. I might be checking out her legs the whole time but nobody’s perfect.
Steve Giorgio suggested that I ought to park around the back by the service entrance to attract less attention. He and his wife, Anna, are waiting there to greet us.
“Welcome to Giorgio’s,” Steve says with pride as if he hasn’t been serving us food from the time we were in grade school.
The guy really came through. He leads us to the private room that’s available for birthday parties and family reunions. There’s a candle burning on the center table that is carefully set for two and he pours from the chilled bottle of wine as soon as we take our seats.
Tori looks around at the washed-out wall paintings of the Sistine Chapel and other Italian landmarks. They’ve been here since Steve’s father opened the place. There’s an awed expression on her face as she takes it all in. The candles and us and just being here together in the same place where we had our very first date.
“Jace, can I tell you something?”
I swallow a bite of garlic bread. “You can tell me anything.”
She tilts her head. In this light, in any light, she’s beyond stunning. “You’re the only one who’s ever done things like this for me.”
I pick up her hand and kiss it. “You’re the only one I’ve ever done things like this for.”
Steve’s uncle has an accordion and on Saturday nights he treats the customers in the main dining room to music. It seems he can only play two songs; That’s Amore and Ave Maria, but he plays them well and he earns a gigantic tip for stopping back here to entertain us.
Tori still has an appetite for good pizza. She’s reaching for her third slice before I’ve finished my second.
“I know I’m pigging out,” she says as she shakes parmesan cheese over her plate. “I don’t care. I used to dream about this pizza in California.”
I wipe my mouth with a napkin and ask her a serious question. “What happened in California?”
She looks down and pushes her arms into her sweater. “I trusted the wrong people.”
I can hardly bear to ask the next question. “Did they hurt you?”
Before she can stop herself, her fingers fly to the side of her face. She sighs. “It doesn’t matter now. I’m fine, Jace. I swear. I’m better than fine. I’m here with you and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”
A distant alarm bell rings in my head but I don’t want to ruin the night.
“I’m exactly where I want to be, too.”
She smiles. The talk turns to football. She’s fascinated by my life as a pro athlete. She’s also not shocked to hear that I’m considering not returning next season. She nods, as if quitting makes perfect sense and is something she would have expected all along.
But there’s more than one gaping hole in our date night conversation. We’re unwilling to talk about what broke us up. And we don’t talk about Colt.
“There’s supposed to be a meteor shower tonight,” I tell her as I pluck one of the after dinner mints from a silver tray and sign off on a tip that’s probably double the pizzeria’s monthly receipts.
She pops a mint into her mouth. “Maybe we can make out under the stars.”
I like that idea. I like it a lot.
We drive out to the place where we shared our first kiss. I’m careful to look in the rearview mirror to confirm that no one follows us but there’s not another vehicle in sight when I pull off the road and tumble to a stop a hundred yards away. I plug my phone in, pick a playlist, and then walk around to open up the door for my girl.
“Seems like you planned ahead,” she comments when she finds the blankets in the back of the pickup.
“Guilty.” I spread out the thick wool blankets so she can sit comfortably.
She settles in and lets me snake my arm around her. We look up at the sky.
“Hey, Third.”
“What’s up?”
“I don’t see anything but clouds.”
“Keep watching. Maybe something will happen.”
“Something is happening. There’s lightning.”
“Cool.”
Tori cracks up. Then she swivels around to look inside the truck. “Your taste in music is unchanged.”
“Come on, this is classic stuff. Crash Into Me by Dave Matthews Band.”
“It’s not bad. What if the lightning gets too close?”
“That might be exciting.”
Her hand lands on my thigh. “Other things can be exciting too.”
I’m interested. I pull her into my lap. “Like what?”
Tori turns and spreads her knees apart until she’s straddling my waist. My hands consider that an invitation to dive under her dress and explore the smooth skin of her thighs. It’s pitch dark but I feel the heat of her breath, her mouth inches from mine, and I’m reminded of the way it was, when the very thought of being inside her body would make me tremble. I kind of feel that way now.
My lips brush hers. “I promised myself I’d show you nothing but good manners this evening.”
She flicks her tongue across my lips. “Do you want to know what would be considered bad manners?”
Hell yeah, I do.“What?”
Her hand strays low. “It would be bad manners not to fuck me when I beg you to.”
I open my pants. “Are you begging?”
She touches the thick bulge and then frees it from my boxers. “I’m begging. Like you told me I would.”
Just because I planned on being chivalrous doesn’t mean I didn’t pack a condom. I picked up four boxes when I was out shopping today. I tear off the individual wrapping and start rolling it on.
“Let me,” she whispers and strokes me with her hand when the condom is in place.
My fingers shove the elastic of her panties aside to feel how bad she wants this.
Fucking BAD.
“Rip them,” she orders in a fierce whisper.
So I do.
I rip her silky panties right the fuck off and grip her hips. Tori moans as she guides me in. She wants to ride and I let her ride. We’re kissing when she comes. I love the way she gives into it and curses and shakes. When she comes a second time I can’t stop myself from following.
We pant and gasp in each other’s arms until an ominous clap of thunder breaks the sky directly overhead. There is rain now too; fat, cold drops that fall with rapidly increasing frequency.
Tori squeals when I lift her up, scramble out of the pickup bed and carry her to the passenger seat. She’s laughing hard as I dive behind the wheel and put the truck in gear for the drive home.
“You amaze me.” She’s still giggling.
The rain comes down in thick sheets and it’s still pouring when we get home. Tori lets me carry her to the house so she doesn’t have to step in puddles.
Once inside, we’re both in a fever. We peel off our clothes and I take her in every gloriously obscene way until we’re exhausted enough to turn out the lights and climb under the covers. McClane is already snoring in his corner.
“This has been the best night,” she murmurs and yawns.
I kiss her. “The first of many.”
Tori sighs into my chest and then it seems she falls asleep.
I’d like to join her but my mind won’t stop running. Earlier, when I had to look at my phone to search for music, I saw a text from my asshole father. Predictably, he was irate that I’ve been ignoring his calls so he fired off one of his ‘You’re gonna blow it, everything we worked for’ lines of bullshit. As if he had anything to do with one single positive accomplishment of mine. I wouldn’t care if I never saw him again. In fact, I’d pay to keep him away. He’s like a dirty secret that insists on resurfacing at the worst times.
Secrets.
Everyone’s got them and most of the time they’re harmless, held tight to the chest because of simple pride or whatever. But sometimes they’re a living weapon, discharged at a precise moment in order to inflict maximum pain. No one knows that better than my father.
My thoughts are still running together when I realize Tori is inching away from me. She leaves the bed, wraps a blanket around herself and hunts around on the floor. She finds what she’s looking for and carries it into the kitchen, where I can see by the light of the bulb over the sink that she’s holding nothing more exciting than her purse. She glances over here but I can see her much better than she can see me. She can’t tell that my eyes are open and there’s something furtive, almost ashamed, about her movements. There’s a rattling sound, like that of aspirin being shaken from a bottle. I’m still watching when she quietly fills a glass of water, takes a sip and throws her head back, a clear sign that she’s just swallowed something.
Then she tiptoes back to bed and climbs in to rest her head on my chest.
“Everything all right?” I ask her and feel her stiffen with surprise.
“Yes.” Her head pops up. “I didn’t know you were awake.”
I yawn. “Trying not to be.”
Tori rolls on top of me and my cock becomes hyper aware of her naked skin. She nibbles at my lip and teases. “Do you need me to tire you out some more?”
As if there’s a chance in hell that I’m going to turn that down. I get a condom rolled on in record time and let my hands tour her body. Sliding into her is as sweet as ever.
Yet I already know that a distant, troubled piece of my mind is going to return to the scene in the kitchen. It’s the same piece that recalls picking up a prescription pill bottle that had fallen out of her purse. They’re not birth control pills. She said she doesn’t take those. She hasn’t mentioned any health problems.
This time she really does fall asleep after we finish exhausting each other. She floats into her dreams with a happy sigh and breathes evenly. My mind drifts again, this time back to this morning when she was looking at that old photo.
As thankful as I am to lie here with Tori in my arms, I am intensely aware of something.
Even though we’ve found each other again, things can’t ever be the way they were then, not really.
Colt and I were like brothers. And no matter how many years go by, the loss of my best friend will always be painful. Always.