Someone You Love by Kristen Granata
Charly
Waking up wrapped inside Bryce’s arms is the best thing I’ve felt in a long time.
So is his kiss.
And his raspy morning voice? Good God. It sends a delicious shiver through my body.
I was unsure of crossing this line before, and I’m still worried about the consequences, but I can’t deny that being with him like this feels right.
I can’t remember the last time I’ve enjoyed just being with someone. No cell service, no work, no distractions. We kissed just to kiss, and there were no presumptions made for it to lead any further. We were simply in the moment until we were too tired to keep our eyes open. It was blissful.
“You were talking in your sleep.” Bryce hands me a small mug of coffee. “Mumbling about snakes coming to get you.”
I roll my eyes. “I was not.”
He grins, and I do too. He looks different this morning. His shoulders aren’t bunched in his ears, the crease between his eyebrows has smoothed out. He’s more at ease, and not so wound-up. Lighter.
He looks happy.
I lift onto my toes, and wrap my arms around his neck. “For the record, I definitely want to keep kissing you. But I am in desperate need of a toothbrush and a shower.”
His nose scrunches. “I didn’t want to say anything, but you really do stink.”
I jab him in his ribs, and he fights to keep me in his arms while I squirm. I give in, and he peppers kisses along my jaw and neck.
“I’m going to have to trim my beard. Your poor skin will be covered in red streaks if I keep this up.”
“Have you always rocked this mountain man look?”
“No. I kept my hair short when I played football because it was under a helmet most of the time.” He scrubs a hand over his chin. “This has gotten a bit out of hand.”
I squint one eye, leaning back to get a good look at him. “I can’t imagine what you’d look like all cleaned up. It’d probably be weird, like when Beast turned back into a human at the end of the movie.”
He arches an eyebrow. “The cartoon movie?”
I nod. “It was very disappointing.”
“Are you just acting out your childhood Disney fantasies with me? Is that what this is?”
“No, but I wouldn’t be opposed if you wanted to lock me in your room for a few days.” I wiggle my eyebrows at him.
“Mmm.” He pulls me close, and slides his hand down my back, his fingers teasing the bare skin along the curve of my spine. “That can be arranged.”
My eyelids flutter closed, and I imagine his mouth on places he hasn’t yet been.
“We should get going,” he whispers, his lips at the cusp of my ear.
“To your room?”
He rasps out a deep chuckle. “No. To our next destination.”
“Which is your room?”
“There will be plenty of time for that.” He presses a kiss to my lips that tastes like a promise, and my stomach backflips in anticipation.
I’m trying to live in the moment, and enjoy what’s happening, but here’s a nagging fear in the back corner of my mind. The further we go, the more I’ll feel. The more I feel, the harder it will be to say goodbye. And I am saying goodbye. Once this vacation is over, then I go back to my home in Manhattan. Back to work at the diner. Back to life—life without Bryce, or Beatrice.
Sadness tugs my spirit down. I turn my face up to the sky, and stare into its endless depths.
“You okay?” Bryce’s hands still as he zips up his backpack, his keen eyes watching me as if he can hear the conflict in my head.
I nod, pushing away the anxious thoughts. “I’m excited to see where we’re headed.”
Bryce leads the way along a trail through the trees, and we spend a good portion of the morning in a comfortable silence. I soak up the nature around us. The fresh smell of the trees. The birds chirping overhead. Small animals scampering around us. It’s all so soothing—much different than the loud jarring noises of the city.
Bryce moves slower than he did yesterday, and I notice him massage his lower back several times. I want to question it, but I don’t want to upset him. I have to trust that he’ll communicate his needs with me.
The sound of waves crashing on the shoreline amplifies as we make it out of the campsite. Towering above us on the edge of a jagged cliff sits a white lighthouse with a red roof.
“I can’t believe this is real. It looks like we’re in a painting.”
Bryce adjusts the strap on his backpack, and smiles. “Aren’t you glad we didn’t go back to the inn?”
“For the record, I’d have been happy either way. But this is beautiful.” I slip my phone out to snap a few pictures.
“Wait until you see the view from up there.” Bryce gestures to the lighthouse.
My eyes widen. “We’re going inside?”
“All the way to the top.”
I surge ahead of him, eager to see what it looks like inside. “I’ve never been in a lighthouse before.”
“There’s not much to see in there, but it’ll be great when we get upstairs.”
“Have you been here before?”
“Nope.”
We enter through the red door, and start our ascent on the narrow staircase. I peek out the small windows along the way, but they aren’t big enough to gauge how high we really are. Sweat beads along my forehead, and my cheat heaves as we continue upward.
“Almost there,” Bryce huffs.
I glance back at him. He’s holding onto the railing with his left hand, and pushing off his crutch with the right. “How are you doing back there?”
His gaze zeroes in on my ass. “Oh, I’m doing just fine.”
My cheeks heat, but I see past his inuendo. “You can tell me if you need to stop, or if this is too much.”
He reaches out, and squeezes my hand. “I know.”
When we reach the top, we drop our backpacks onto the floor in the circular room, and I rush over to the window.
My lips part, and my breath leaves me in a whoosh. “This is incredible. Why aren’t more tourists here?”
Bryce leans forward, gazing down at the blue water crashing into the rocky shoreline. “This place isn’t open to the public.”
My head jerks back. “We’re trespassing?”
“No, no. The lighthouse keeper had family stay at the inn a few years back, and we took good care of them. So, I pulled a few strings to get us in here.”
I blink up at him. “You did all this for me?”
“All this?” He side-eyes me. “It’s just a lighthouse.”
“It’s not just a lighthouse, Bryce.” I tug his arm until he’s facing me. “You put effort into planning this whole weekend. And you’re helping me with my bucket list. You didn’t have to do any of this. Don’t diminish all you’re doing for me.”
“I’m doing this because I want to. Because ...” He glances down at his feet. “Because I care about you.”
I stroke his cheek with the back of my hand. “Why do you look so forlorn when you say that?”
“It’s been a while since I’ve let myself get close to anyone.”
I slide my hands around his waist, and press myself against him, closing my eyes as my head rests on his chest. “I’m scared too.”
He tips my chin, and I lift my eyes to his, those expressive obsidian stones so intense as he speaks. “I won’t hurt you, Charly. Whatever this is, whatever happens, I won’t do anything to hurt you.”
My heart swells and warmth overflows, surging through my veins. “I know.”
I don’t know how, or why, but I do. I can feel it in my bones. Bryce isn’t like Greg, or anyone else I’ve met. Which complicates things further, because I’m certain this could be more than a fleeting summer fling. Throwing caution to the wind could be a mistake, but it’s the only option I have at this point.
Because after kissing Bryce, I can’t go back to not kissing him.
He dips his head, and my lips meet his. His tongue sweeps into my mouth, searching for mine, and we kiss like this is our last moment on earth. His hands are in my hair, gripping my roots at the base of my head, tugging it back so he can ravage my mouth the way he wants to. My fingertips slip under the hem of his T-shirt, skimming past the scar on his spine, and digging into his shoulder blades. Urgent and frenzied, we pour our worries into one another, and get lost in the moment.
If all we have is here and now, then this is exactly where I want to stay.
In this lighthouse, high above the ground, having the best kiss of my life.
Bryce
“Do you mind if we head home?”
“Of course I don’t mind.” Charly’s eyes scan my body. “Is everything okay?”
I shake out my right leg. “I’m getting pins and needles in my foot. That’s usually a warning sign. I don’t think I’d be in good shape if I spent another night here.”
She lets out a relieved breath. “Me neither. Don’t get me wrong, last night was incredible. But I need a real bed, and a shower.”
I smirk. “The city girl isn’t into camping?”
She scoffs. “I think I held my own out here.”
“Minus the part where you ran screaming from the invisible snakes last night.”
She points her finger in my face. “Show no one that video if you know what’s good for you.”
I chuckle. “You’re no fun.”
On the ride home, I rest my hand on Charly’s thigh, stroking her bare skin with my thumb. As much as I would’ve loved to have spent another night under the stars with her, I know I need to get home. Soaking in a warm bath, and getting off my feet will help.
It’s not always easy accepting help, or admitting when I’ve hit my limit. Sure, when I needed assistance getting up out of my wheelchair, I appreciated it. When I dropped something, and it hurt too much to bend and pick it up, I welcomed the help. Those were things I couldn’t do on my own. But then people around me started taking over the tasks I could do. They assumed I wasn’t capable. They dismissed my ability because of my disability. I stopped expressing the pain I was in so people would think I felt better than I actually did—so they’d stop doing everything for me.
Part of me didn’t want to tell Charly what I needed today. There’s still that nagging fear whispering negativity in the back of my mind, telling me that Charly won’t want to hang around for long once she sees how bad things can get. Like everyone else. But I swallowed my pride, and told her because she trusted that I would. She hasn’t doubted my abilities thus far, and she lets me be in control of my decisions. I owe her my honesty.
The drive home only makes the pain worse, and by the time we get to the inn, I need Charly’s help getting out of the truck, and around back to my place.
“I’ll feel better after the bath,” I tell Charly as she flips on the bathroom light.
Her lips tilt, but I can see the worry in her eyes when she flicks them up to mine.
“I’m fine. I promise.” I tear my shirt over my head, and toss it onto the floor.
Charly leans back against the edge of the sink, her gaze falling to my bare chest, and sliding down my abdomen. “Yes, you certainly are fine.”
I hook my finger through her belt loop, and pulling her closer. “You don’t have to stay if you want to go get Edward, and see how Nana’s doing.”
“Do you want me to leave?”
Never. I shake my head. “No, but—”
“Then I’m staying. Nurse Charly, at your service.”
My eyebrows jump. “I like the sound of that.”
She throws me a wink as she leans forward, and turns on the water in the tub. She busies herself getting me a towel and a washcloth, pretending not to notice while I push my shorts and boxers down my legs. I gnash my teeth as I lift my leg to step into the tub, and brace myself with the metal handle along the wall that I installed for times like this.
Charly cups her hand under my arm, and helps me lower myself into the hot water. It’s awkward, and I land with a splash, but once I’m in, the heat soothes my aches.
Charly sits on the floor beside the tub, chewing on her lower lip. “I’m sorry about this.”
“What do you have to be sorry for?”
“If you didn’t take me camping, then this wouldn’t be happening.”
“This would happen whether or not I went camping, Charly.”
“Would it?”
I nod, sinking further into the tub. “Sometimes, I wake up like this because I slept wrong. Doesn’t have to be set off by a major strain.” I glance at her. “Please don’t regret the amazing weekend we had.”
“I don’t.” She cups her hands under the water, and then pours it over my head. “I just feel bad that you’re in pain.”
I close my eyes, letting my head fall back against the edge of the tub as she massages shampoo into my scalp. “I get that people don’t want to see me like this. I get that me being paralyzed was scary for them. I get that being in a wheel chair was an inconvenience for them. But this isn’t about anyone else. I’m the one who has to live in this body, day in and day out, and I had to learn how to make the best out of what happened to me. But it’s that much harder when the people you know start treating you like you’re someone else.” I point to my chest. “I’m still the same person in here.”
She rinses my hair, listening while I speak. Then she presses her hand on my chest, and my heart beats against her palm. “I see who you are, Bryce.”
And she does. She sees me, without football, with my cane, with overgrown hair, and a grumpy demeanor. When those green eyes look at me, she sees past it all.
It’s terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.
I grip her wrist. “Come in the tub with me.”
Without hesitation, she stands, and shimmies out of her clothes. As much as it kills me to turn away, this is new and I don’t know how fast she wants to take things. I press the silver button to turn on the jets, and fizzing bubbles shoot out from the sides of the tub.
Charly steps in, and lowers herself in front of me. My arms wrap around her as she lays back against my chest.
“This is heaven.”
I press a kiss to the top of her head.
“What you said about people treating you differently ... I think I did the same thing to my mom. I became obsessed with cancer, researching, and trying everything I could to fix her. To make her better. But I think I sucked the life out of her. I made it all about cancer, and not enough about her.” The corners of her lips pull downward. “She probably hated that.”
“I’m sure she knew how much you loved her. She probably wanted to get better for you more than anything.”
“She did. That last night before she died, she kept apologizing. She said she was sorry for leaving me, like it was her fault.”
I smooth my hands down her arms, linking our fingers together under the surface of the water. “Sounds like someone I know, apologizing for things that aren’t her fault.”
She lets out a soft laugh. “Now you know where I get it from.”
“That’s my favorite thing about you.”
“What is?”
“Your heart.”
She half-turns to look at me over her shoulder. “That’s my favorite thing about you too.”
“Did you think I had a heart when you wrote about Beatrice’s ass of a grandson in your journal?”
Her eyes narrow. “You said you only read one page.”
“Well, I skimmed the first page before I flipped to the last one you’d written.”
“You’re the worst.”
I lean in and steal a kiss from her lips. “Says the one who watched me jerk off in the shower.”
A red flush creeps into her cheeks. “Okay, I’m the worst.”
I kiss her again. “The absolute worst.”
“I’m terrible.”
I glide my tongue along her bottom lip before sucking it into my mouth. “So terrible.”
She hums, and it travels all the way to the tip of my dick, making it jump between us. Her eyes dart to the washcloth resting on the corner of the tub. “Can I wash you?”
“You can do anything you want to me.”
She grins as she turns around, her movements slow and careful. Facing me with her legs straddled on either side of my hips, and her ass on the tub, she sits in front of me. “Is this okay?”
On a perfect day, I’d pull her on my lap, take two handfuls of her ass, and relish in the feel of her on top of me. But with the pain I’m in today, this will have to do. Besides, with her legs spread in front of me, with my dick nestled between her thighs, and the water level hitting just below her rosy nipples—this is pretty damn close to perfect.
My voice is hoarse when the words come out. “This is more than okay.”
Charly works the soap into the cloth until it’s white and foamy. She starts at my collarbone, massaging my skin in small, gentle circles. My heart is in my throat, and I wonder if she sees my pulse thumping against my neck. She rounds one shoulder, pushing the cloth down my arm, and back up again before sweeping it across my chest to the other side.
The way she’s gazing at me, the hungry look of desire emanating from her eyes, it doesn’t make me feel incapable, or helpless. She’s not washing me because I can’t. She’s washing me because she wants to. Because it’s an intimate moment shared between us. Because it’s turning her on.
And I can’t hide that it’s turning me on too.
Her lips are parted, her breasts rising and falling with her rapid breaths as she slides the washcloth down my stomach, moving painfully slow over each ridge of my abs. Then she pushes the cloth aside, letting it float away, and presses her palms to my shoulders. Her delicate hands skim over my chest, her fingertips grazing my nipples as they make their descent. I clench my jaw, letting her explore my body, trying to keep still with my hands gripping onto either side of the tub.
Her eyes lock with mine as her hands slip under the water, and she holds my gaze while she wraps one around the base of my cock. She lets out a gasp, like she’s surprised at herself, or at my size.
“Can I ...?” she whispers. “I want to touch you.”
A stifled groan leaves my throat. “You already are, sweetheart.”
She pumps me once, dragging her palm to the tip and back down, and she rolls her tongue over her bottom lip.
“Touch me, Bryce.” She inches closer, speaking against my lips. “I want you to.”
I drag my fingers along her seam, and I nearly come at the feel of her softness. I fumble with my other hand to shut the jets, needing the water to settle so I can get a clear view of her. Then I cup her breast, circling my thumb over her hardened bud. She moans louder, and it echoes off the tile.
“God, I love the way you sound.” My tongue swoops inside her mouth in a languorous motion, wishing I could lap up her body in the same way. “This is what I was thinking about when you saw me in the shower. Touching you. Teasing you. Hearing you come.”
Her hips rock against my fingers as I stroke her clit, urging me to move faster. She’s panting, her tits bouncing as she jerks me in long, firm pumps. She drops her gaze as our hands move between us, and my dick swells at the sight of her watching us. We work each other until we’re both moaning in a messy frenzy of open-mouthed kisses.
My thumb moves faster as it circles her clit, and she cries out. “Yes, Bryce. Yes.”
“Come for me, Charly. Let me hear you.”
Her hand stills around my cock as she comes. She whimpers my name, body shuddering, with her head thrown back, and her eyes pinched shut. I hold her close while she rocks her hips against my hand, riding out her orgasm until she settles back down, and I whisper how beautiful she is in her ear.
“You’re the beautiful one,” she says, breathless and panting as her eyes fall to her hand wrapped around me.
“I’ve never felt as good as I feel right now.” I pause, inhaling a shaky breath. “I should tell you, there’s something you should know. Before we go any further. I haven’t ... I haven’t been with anyone. Since my injury.”
“That’s okay. Are you worried about coming too soon?”
I tear my eyes away from hers, heat creeping into my cheeks as I brace myself for her reaction when she hears what I’m about to say. “Sometimes, with my type of injury, there can be ... complications with the way my body works.”
I expect her to pull away, to feel embarrassed for me, or nervous for herself. But she keeps her hand on me, and lifts her other hand to cup my face and bring my eyes back to hers. “You can tell me. Show me, teach me. I want to be what you need.”
I blink at her in disbelief. “Sometimes, I lose the sensation, and I can’t finish. I can be in the middle of it, and it can feel so good, and then ... it just goes away. It doesn’t happen all the time, but I just wanted to warn you. I don’t want you to think it has anything to do with you, or my attraction to you.”
She tightens her grip around me. “I don’t have any question about your attraction to me.” Her smile fades as she returns her eyes to mine. “This isn’t about me or my ego, Bryce. If there’s something specific you need me to do, then tell me. If you lose it, we can stop, or try something different. I’m open to whatever you need, because all I want is to make you feel good. So, if you trust me, I’d like to keep going.”
The final piece of the wall around my heart comes crumbling down. It’s open and bare and vulnerable. And it’s all for Charly. Every bruised bit of it.
Emotion lodges in my throat, and I blink away the tears. “I want to share this with you. I want to keep going.”
“Show me how you were doing it in the shower when I saw you.”
I wrap my hand around hers, and guide her up and down, applying pressure along the way. She circles her thumb over my crown before plunging back down, again and again. Leaning forward, she traces my ear with her tongue, and drags it down the side of my neck. Goosebumps fly down my arms, and my hips thrust into her hand.
“God, that feels good.”
She shifts onto her knees, and licks along my collar bone as she pumps me, and swirls her tongue around my nipple, letting her teeth graze against it in a gentle bite. She’s hitting erogenous zones I didn’t know I had, and it’s making me harder by the second. I lose my inhibitions and give myself to her, letting her explore new sensitive spots all over my body.
“Faster,” I whisper into her ear. “Yes, just like that.”
She picks up the pace with her strokes, until the mounting wave overflows, and a long groan tears out of me. My body goes limp, and she peppers kisses on my face while I catch my breath.
I just came at the hands of someone else for the first time in six years. What’s more, I let my guard down and let myself be seen, be vulnerable, with her. I told her what I needed, and she didn’t turn away. She accepted me, exactly as I am.
Not the star athlete.
Not the rich and famous Super Bowl champion.
Me.
Just me.
I pull her in for another passionate kiss, needing her to understand how I’m feeling, though I can’t articulate the words.
We take our time to appreciate every dip and curve, and letting our lips explore each body part. And when we’re done, we drain the bath and Charly climbs into bed with me. She handles me with such care, not because she pities me, but because it’s in her nature to care for the people in her life.
Me. I’m now a part of her life.
And I can’t help but wonder for how long.