Playing Patience

Page 76

The soft floor of the hallway buckled under my feet. The door to his bedroom was cracked so I pushed it the rest of the way open and stepped inside. I’d secretly wished I’d catch Zeke half naked, but when I’d wished that, I’d wished he was alone when I caught him. What I saw before me was like a punch to the ribs.
Zeke was lying on his bed, his hands behind his head as he relaxed against the headboard. The redhead straddling him was pressing herself against him in every way possible. The rhythm of the headboard hitting the brown paneled wall made my stomach turn. The sounds of the creaking mattress made me want to drop to my knees and cover my ears. I knew those sounds well and they brought nothing but nightmares.
I wanted to cry. I wanted to slowly dissolve into nothing and float away in the air, blown around by the clicking, circulating fan at the foot of his bed. The messed-up part was I couldn’t be mad. He wasn’t mine and as badly as I wanted to be the one having carefree sex with him, I couldn’t. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t do it.
Seriously? What else could the universe drop on me at this point? I’d all but died inside on several occasions in my life. You’d think finally I’d just drop, but I kept going and I kept running into things that broke down my spirit. Seeing Zeke have sex with another girl was breaking me big time.
In that moment the remaining open doors to my soul slammed shut. Zeke was it for me, and if I couldn’t bring myself to give him the part of me that was taken away so many years ago, then there would be no one else. All the thoughts of a physical relationship in my life drifted away. The thoughts of marriage, children, or real life in general were gone in the blink of an eye.
He was only receiving what I could never give him. Proof was purring and bouncing in front of me. I could never be what Zeke needed or wanted. The crescent moon tattoo on her lower back matched the star tattoo on his hand that was now gripping her ass. I couldn’t take my eyes off the two tattoos. They were symbolic to me. They were a sign that they belonged together and I was the starless wonder who belonged in the sanitized, padded walls of my supposed safe world. The truth was I was safer in this broken-down trailer park surrounded by drug deals and gang members than I was in my own home.
And then I saw his snowflake tattoo and I died a little more. How could he brand me on his skin that way and then have carefree, meaningless sex with someone else? What kind of person does that?
I stared at the single snowflake. I couldn’t take my eyes off of it.
The redhead made a loud whining noise, causing me to avert my attention. I knew in the back of my mind I should slowly exit the room, but I couldn’t peel my eyes away from her. The way her long, crimson curls swayed across her hips, the arch in her back, her perfect rhythm as she pleasured him with her body—it was all so hypnotic. She gave herself so freely and I envied that freedom.
I listened to the noises that spilled from her lips as she achieved a passion I’d never know, and it was almost musical. I should hate her, but she was magnificent and seductive, all things I longed to be. I wanted to look away, but something about the scene was strangely beautiful. Take away the fact that my Zeke was having sex with another woman. Take away the fact that my heart was shriveling into a pile of nothing in my chest. She was a girl I’d never be and watching her freedom was breathtaking.
This was how it was supposed to be for a girl. The creaking mattress and the sounds of the headboard hitting the wall were supposed to be a good thing. The redhead was lucky. She didn’t cower in fear at the erotic noises. She didn’t feel like crying and dropping to the floor in the fetal position if someone touched her. She was exactly what Zeke needed. She was what he deserved and I was not.
Slowly, I backed away toward the door, but before I could look away, I saw Zeke’s eyes land on me. The noises stopped and he used his hands to stop her bouncing hips. The embarrassment of being caught watching set in and I felt heat fill my cheeks. I bet the redhead didn’t blush like a little girl. I bet the redhead was a real woman, a woman who could say the word penis without giggling.
I felt the doorframe connect with my back. It stopped me from making a quick escape. The redhead slung her head around and with big eyes she looked at me in annoyance.
“Snowflake,” Zeke said. His voice was strained and he was out of breath.
A fine sheen of sweat covered his body and all the enjoyment left his eyes as he stared back at me. A strange emotion that bordered heartbreak crossed his expression, but him being hurt made no sense to me. Why would being caught in the middle of hot sex hurt his feelings? Actually, since when did Zeke Mitchell have any feelings? I’d been mistaken for a little while, but it was obvious he’d been right. I was way out of my league.