Page 28 of Love Complicated

What happened to the days when parents picked their kids up from the classrooms?

I wonder if I sweet talk Aunt K enough, she’ll let me bend the rules and require Aly to pick the boys up every afternoon just so I can see her. Probably not. But then again, I’ll get to see her again, kinda like now when she can’t see that I’m staring at her from my classroom, three hours after she walked out again.

Creepy?

Probably. I know it’s wrong to have impure thoughts in an elementary school, especially about a student’s mother, or at least it feels wrong, but I can’t bring myself to give a fuck.

I can’t stop thinking. Probably because I have a direct view of her and the boys, hand in hand, walking toward the parking lot after school, walking away from me. In my head, I’m right back to the night I left her.

“Midnight in Her Eyes” by the Black Keys hummed through the car, Aly laid out before me on the front seat of my mom’s car, lights off on a side-street.

“What is this?” She sounded her age. Innocent. Scared. Naïve.

“I only want to fuck you.”

She flinched and I hated myself for what I said. “You don’t want to be with me?”

My heart pounds. “No. I don’t,” I said as coldly as I could, hating the way the words sounded.

It wasn’t true, but it was my way of trying to push her away. The truth was she deserved better than me.

“Why would you say that?” she asked, tearfully.

“Because I want you, but I can’t give you what you’re looking for.”

I wanted to fuck her, but not for the reasons she assumed. I wanted to show her she needed me, not him. I wanted her to make me forget the world, the lies, the reasons, everything but the feel of her beneath me. I was being selfish, and it wasn’t fair to her.

Her skin was warm, burning my hands with each pass my fingertips made. She released her grip on my face, her neck arched away, pressing into the seat.

Rain soaked and trembling, I glided my hands along the inside of her arms, lower, down to her bare legs.

Leaned back on my knees, I kissed the inside of her knees, then the length of her leg until I was at her center. We both shifted, breathing harder, because I was there, a place she never allowed. I pushed her dress up, my fingers at the edge of her panties, waiting to see what she’d do if I took them off.

“Let me,” I whispered incoherently, sliding my fingers down her ribs, soft and gentle, teasing. She squirmed. I chuckled. “Please?”

Her legs were open, me hovering over her, waiting for her response. “Ridge,” she whispered in the darkness, searching for words and an answer she didn’t want to give me. “I can’t.”

I placed my fingertips over her lips. “Why not?” I slid up her body, between her legs, pushing against her hard with my lips finally on hers, a place they hadn’t been in years.

Never had I felt this ache, so intense when I moved, pushing her deeper into the leather seat. There was a heat between us, stronger than the night’s air, one I hadn’t realized—hadn’t comprehended—until she moved again, raising her hips to meet mine this time.

All I could focus on was getting her closer and making her move again. I deepened the kiss, and she squirmed beneath me.

My mouth parted from hers, asking a question I shouldn’t have been. “Have you fucked Austin?”

A good part of her was apprehensive to answer the question. I could see it in her eyes because she feared how I’d respond. What would I ask after I found out she was a virgin? She was always easy to read, the questions displayed on her face.

“No,” she answered eventually. Shock formed on her lips, and eventually a frown. “I’m not that kind of girl.”

Part of me was relieved she hadn’t. I wanted to be her first. Austin didn’t deserve her. I wanted her and her virginity to be mine. My head dipped to her neck, slow kissing and loving her, even if I’d never be able to tell her.

“You gonna let me fuck you or not?” It was a blunt question and caught her off-guard.

“You’re so bad,” she said, pushing back on the hands of a sinner, laughing.

“And you’re so good.” I flashed an easy smile her way. I might have been bad, but in truth, she wouldn’t have had me any other way. She hated the feeling that drew her to me.

I despised the way she drew me with her warmth, a contrast to the cold that consumed my thoughts.

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