The Best Kind of Trouble (7 page)

On Thursday night, Nathan and I ended up in my room.  We were supposed to be studying, but the moment my door shut I pounced.  I flung my arms around his neck and practically crawled up his body.  I couldn’t help it. I wanted him.  In that moment it overruled the fear and the voice telling me to run, to push him away, and to end this thing before I got hurt.

Nathan’s lips were on mine instantly, teasing them apart with his tongue.  He gripped my ass and walked to the bed and fell forward, crushing me between his hard body and the mattress.

He kissed a line down my neck and I pushed him back so I could pull my shirt over my head, exposing my lacy pink bra. Nathan's blue eyes clouded over with lust. He groaned and his grip on my jean covered hips tightened as his eyes roved over my exposed skin.

Nathan squeezed his eyes shut a moment later and dropped his head to my chest. His warm hands moved up, gently skimming my sides, trembling as they wrapped around my rib cage, his thumbs rested just below the bottom of my breast. His breath came out in short quick bursts of air against my heated skin.

"Maybe we shouldn’t,” he murmured against me.

Desire was so thick and hot inside me I thought I’d spontaneously combust. I started to shake and fresh tears pooled in my eyes at his rejection.

Nathan looked up, and immediately his hands were on my face, his lips raining kisses on my cheeks and the corner of my eyes. Tears streaked across my temples, and he kissed there too.

"Ash, please don't cry," he whispered frantically. "Don't think I don't want to. That I don't want you. I do. Oh god, I--"

As if to emphasis his point, his obvious arousal pressed against me. His lips found mine again. There was a raw desperate passion in his kiss that had me moaning and clutching at his shirt.

"Please," I begged, my face red.

He groaned, and I felt his surrender, his loss of control as he crashed against me.  He flicked the button on my jeans and I wiggled out of them.  My breath faltered as he hooked his fingers in my panties and slowly dragged them down my hips. His lips and hands began to touch and kiss every inch of my naked skin.  He dragged his rough fingertips along my slick flesh and I bit my lip hard.

Blue-gray eyes locked on mine as he lowered his head, his hands gently pushed my thighs apart. When his mouth lowered and he kissed me
there
, I cried out his name.

My hands fisted in the sheets and my hips rocked up.  I cried out again as I lost control.  A moment later, Nathan positioned himself above me.  I closed my eyes, the anticipation beat like a drum in my chest. 

With our bodies perfectly aligned, Nathan whispered, "Ashley, look at me."

I opened my eyes to find his right above me, dark with wanting. "God, you are so beautiful," he said, groaning as he slowly pushed inside me.

There was a raw edge to his tenderness.  Every movement, every kiss, every murmured whisper against my skin was intense and so raw and emotional I felt completely and utterly stripped bare, down to my very soul.

I whispered his name, over and over again and his movements became faster every time I said it.  He kissed my jaw, then the jumping pulse in my neck.  He pressed into me again, harder, and I dug my fingernails into his biceps as I held on.  Everything inside me tightened.

Nathan wrapped his arms around me and pulled me up.  He was on his knees, holding me off the bed, our bodies pressed tightly together, as he continued to thrust inside me.

I arched, threw my head back, and flew apart. Pleasure started low in my gut, tingling up my spine and exploding like an electric current through all my limbs.

Nathan’s muscles tensed, then he went completely still. He lowered me back to the mattress, cupping my head, his fingertips tangled in my wild hair, and molded his lips to mine.

Nathan rolled to his side, bringing me with him. I tucked my head under his chin, and he wrapped his arms tight around me as I melted into his embrace.

~000~

I knew something was wrong when I woke up the next day and Nathan was gone.  All day I tried to keep myself busy, but a cold feeling of dread coiled tightly in my gut. And every time I felt the soreness between my thighs I cringed.

I didn’t regret last night.  Being with Nathan had been explosive and passionate and inevitable.  But something in his expression, something inside me knew something was wasn’t right.

At eight o’clock, a heavy knock sounded at my door. When I opened it, there was Nathan, looking tired and disheveled and serious. 

My stomach dropped.

I let him inside silently and he sat on the couch next to me.

"I can't do this, Ash," he said. "Last night was a mistake."

A sharp pain clawed at my insides. "I don't understand," I said shakily. My whole world tilted as I struggled to understand what went wrong.

Nathan sighed, his massive shoulders moved up and down with the movement. He leaned over his knees, his messy hair slipped down his forehead covering up one eye.

I kept focusing on these little details about him. The scar above his left eyebrow, the plump curve of his bottom lip, the straight lines of his jaw.

Not mine. Nathan didn’t belong to me.  And he never would.

A sudden flash of anger surged through me.  "Why?"

Nathan sighed again and raked his fingers through his thick hair, pushing it off his eyes. He looked tired. And a little angry at the world.

"Ashley, tell me how you feel about me."

My sudden anger fled, leaving a white hot panic in its wake. I looked down at my twisting fingers and swallowed hard. Nathan was completely silent.

"I--" I looked up at him. "I like you."

"Is that all?"

My chest was tight. The way he was looking at me, that intense blue gaze, combined with my sudden lack of oxygen, had my head spinning. I bit my lip hard and shrugged.

What did he want me to say? That I really really liked him?
That it was too much and it scared me? That he scared me?  That I might be falling for him?  That yesterday I had wanted him more than I’d ever desired another person?

His jaw clenched and his eyes visibly darkened. His hands twitched like he wanted to touch me but he wouldn't let himself.

"That's not enough, doll face," he said shaking his head. "I can't do casual."

I scoffed. "What? That doesn’t…you’re not making sense. You said—"

"I can't do casual with you."

"Why? Why can't we just take it slow?" My voice was high and whiny.  I winced at the sound. I sounded pathetic and clingy.

He snorted, "We bypassed slow last night."

Heat crept up my neck. Images from last night replayed with startling accuracy in my mind. His lips roving over my bare skin, his husky voice in my ear.

"Ashley, the way I feel about you...” he trailed off and sighed, dropping his head into his hands. After several beats in which I held my breath, desperate for his next words, he continued. “It's not casual. I can't do casual with you. I want more. I want
everything
."

My heart skipped a beat, both thrilled and terrified at his words. In that moment I wanted to give in.  I wanted to throw myself into his arms, tell him last night was the best night of my life.  I wanted—

"But I can't do that right now either."

My stomach fell to my toes.

Nathan moved closer to me, slipping his large warm hands around mine. I didn't know what I wanted anymore.

I had been too scared to tell him what I felt. It was too soon, too much.  But the desire I felt for him was too hard to ignore. I had been sure I'd end up hurt again. 

Last night I had risked it anyways, my judgment clouded by lust and passion.

"With football--"

"Football!" I screeched. I winced at the sudden volume of my voice. "You're breaking up with me because of football?!"

"Ash, that's not what I'm saying."

The sharp burn of tears pricked my eyes and clogged my throat.

Nathan cupped my cheeks. I flinched at his touch and his hands fell away. I wanted to scream out.
How could he give up so easily? He chased me! He practically begged me to give him a chance!

Suddenly everything changed.  All my being scared felt tiny and minuscule.  I wanted to take it all back. 
Was I not enough? Again?

I opened my mouth to say something but Nathan beat me to it.

"Football is not just a hobby for me.  It’s my career.  April is the draft. But it’s not just about football, Ash,” he paused, sucking in a breath and then slowly letting it out.  His shoulders slumped. “You deserve better.”

I sniffed and wiped my knuckles under my eyes.  I was shaking, my thoughts were a mess.  And he was rambling, making excuses.  All of which only partly made sense and seemed a little flimsy.

"I can't do this Ash. It's killing me to not have all of you. But—" he sighed, sounding pained, his voice cracked and he looked close to tears. "—I can't give you all of me right now either."

I couldn't stop the tears. A sob broke from chest as they streamed in rivulets down my cheeks. 
What did that even mean?
This didn’t make any sense.

Nathan’s arms encircled me as he pulled me into his chest and he buried his face in the crook of my neck. His tears splashed against my skin.

I didn’t understand.  Despite my best efforts I was hurting again, my damaged heart trampled on once more.  Except this time, it felt worse, more significant, as if all the broken hearts of the past were merely tiny cracks.  This crack felt more like the one in the liberty bell. 

Completely and utterly devastating.

After what felt like an eternity, Nathan scooped me up and laid me in my bed. He kept his arms wound tightly around me.  Eventually, once my sobbing and hiccupping had stopped, he loosened his grip and got up from the bed. I pretended to be asleep because I couldn't face him leaving.

Once I heard the front door close, and I knew he was gone, I fell apart. I cried loud gut-wrenching, body-wracking sobs into my pillow, cursing my foolishness and Nathan’s fickle heart.

Go and fix your make up, girl, it’s just a break up. Run and hide your crazy and start actin’ like a lady.

~Miranda Lambert

By Tuesday I'd spent a significant amount of time crying, feeling sorry for myself, lying in bed and eating my weight in chocolate.

I rubbed the heel of my hand over the center of my chest. Everything inside me was burning, aching, and hurting.

I felt like I had been broken. Bleeding and raw. I had foolishly believed I could do this. That I could keep things between Nathan and me at least semi-casual. That we could have sex and it wouldn't change everything. That I could keep myself closed off enough or take it slow enough so I would not get hurt.

Being with Nathan that night made me feel like I'd been ripped open. Which made his rejection hurt even more. Made me feel used and insignificant.

Except I kept hearing his words. Maybe it was all just bad timing. Nathan was obviously a very passionate person, maybe he just couldn't give a relationship with me his total focus because it was so significant.  Like he'd said, his whole career, his future, what he'd worked for his whole life was on the line.

These thoughts didn't make me feel any better. In fact, I felt worse.  Couldn’t we have made it work?  Why did he start something with me at all?

Ugh.
I was so sick of my thoughts.

"Ashley, get up!" Katie yelled as she came in my room and plopped unceremoniously down on my bed. "You have got to stop mopping around. Get dressed, we're going out."

I moaned and pulled the covers over my head. Katie promptly ripped them off me. I squealed in protest.

"I'm serious, Ash. Get up," she commanded.

I pouted and crossed my arms over my chest. Katie sighed and wrapped her arms around me in a hug.

"Talk to me, Ash. It'll help."

I sighed. I had to talk to someone, I was driving myself crazy.

"Do you think Nathan couldn't be serious with me because I was too much work? Did I push him away? Or did I rush things by pushing sex?"

Katie shook her head against mine. "I don't think any of that's true."

"Then why did he break up with me?" A choked sob caught in my throat and fresh tears formed in my eyes.

Katie pulled back and smoothed back my wild hair as she looked at me sadly. "I don't know exactly Ash. Maybe he's scared too. Maybe he just needs some time. Maybe he just can't be what you deserve right now."

I sniffled and blew out a long breath. "That doesn't make me feel any better."

"I know," she said softly. "Sex and love complicate things."

I nodded in agreement. Although part of me couldn't regret it. Being with Nathan, being closer to him than anyone else I'd ever known, made me feel warm and gooey. A memory of his strong corded muscles, his stubble scratching lightly against my skin, his blue-gray eyes that looked at me like I was water and he was dying of thirst were clear as water in my mind.

Fresh desire bloomed in my gut, quickly followed by a sick twist of my stomach.

"Come on, Ash," Katie urged, pulling me up from the bed. She pulled out a long sleeved pink shirt and a pair of faded blue jeans. "Get dressed, I'll fix your hair. We can go to Zack's. There's a live band tonight."

~000~

Two hours later I was sitting at a table in Zack’s.  My blonde hair was pulled back in a low ponytail and tied just below my left ear.  I’d already managed to down three beers since Katie and I had walked through the door.

It did nothing to drown out my thoughts about Nathan.  Katie was right when she said sex complicates things.

 Although, if I was being totally honest, it wasn’t just the sex.  It was everything else too.  Everything the sex represented.  It was like a physical culmination of everything I’d been feeling.  All of the desire, the confusion, and the thrilling fear, that spark that Nathan lit inside me, the intoxicating swirl of emotions, the explosion of feelings.  Its occurrence was inevitable.

And yet, I was hurting like someone ripped my heart out. I slammed back the rest of my fourth beer. I felt a little numb and detached. But nowhere close to drunk enough to drown out everything.  And I wasn’t sure I even felt up to getting there.

Like a scene from a movie, I looked up at that moment, the door to the bar opened, and in walked Nathan.  His eyes immediately found me, as if he’d been looking for me.  My insides fluttered. He paused only briefly before stalking across the bar to me. 

He sat down in the chair next me.  Our eyes stayed locked on each other and I took a deep shuddering breath.  His blue-gray eyes looked more blue, soft and little unsure.

He swallowed hard.  “Hi.”

“Hi,” I whispered back.

“I miss you,” he said, and I winced.  It hurt to hear him say that.  I didn’t respond.
What was he trying to do? Kill me?
  He sighed loudly and broke eye contact.  Nathan ran a hand through his hair.  “I hate this.  I miss you so much.”

He reached for my hands and wrapped his fingers around mine. I looked down.  My eyes were filled to the brim with tears I didn’t want him to see.

“Ash, I’m so sorry.”

I swallowed hard and managed to say, “For what?”

I looked back up.  I couldn’t even help myself.  His hair was a little messier than normal, his eyes pained and glossy, and there was rough stubble on his face.

Before he could answer my question, I spoke again, my words came out in a rush.  “Like you said, it was a mistake.”

“You regret it?” he asked.

I bit my lip.  Saying yes would be a lie.  But I didn’t want him to see me hurt. I didn’t want him to know that vulnerable part of me.  I was angry with him. For hurting me.  For chasing me and making me fall for him and then ripping it all away. 

I still didn’t really understand if that was because of my resistance or if I wasn’t good enough or if a serious relationship really just was too much and interfered with his plans.  And why couldn’t I be a part of those plans? 

Again, maybe what he felt for me wasn’t enough.  He always said if it was the right girl, he’d just know.  Maybe I wasn’t the right girl.

Instead of answering, I simply nodded my head.  His eyes flashed with pain.

Furrowing his brow, Nathan’s eyes searched mine.  Scared he wouldn’t believe me, I rushed on. “Can’t we at least be friends?  I want to be friends.”

His gaze was assessing and his forehead scrunched up more.  He didn’t believe me.  What was worse, I swear I saw pity in his eyes.  I felt pathetic.  A new steely determination to fix this mess, to make him believe me, to be friends and get over him rose up inside me.

“Nathan,” I said, forcing a smile and pulling my hands from his grasp.  He frowned and looked down at my retreating fingers.  “I got carried away.  You were right, we can’t be serious. I just got so caught up…but I really don’t want to lose you.”

I swallowed hard, forcing the bile from my throat. I blinked back my tears and widened my smile. When he didn’t answer me, my face fell.  “Have I?”

“Have you what?” he asked, his voice was strained.

“Lost you?”

Instantly, Nathan’s hands were on my face. 

I wanted to cry at the familiar gesture.  His hands were warm, both rough and tender.  He leaned in close and I forced myself to stay stoic, unaffected.

“Never, Face,” he whispered.  “If you want to be friends, then were friends.”

He pulled back and smiled.
What the hell was that supposed to mean? He broke up with me!

“Don’t frown, doll face,” he said, smirking.  “You’re so much more beautiful when you smile.”

I took a deep breath. “Nathan, what are you doing?”

Nathan looked at me for a long moment before replying, then the smirk dropped and he blew out a breath, all his posturing suddenly disappeared.  “You’re right, Ash.  Friends.  I want to be your friend.”

We stared at each other for another minute before he broke eye contact.

“Want another beer?” he asked, rising from his seat.  He flashed me a forced smile.

I watched him walk away, struck by a sudden realization.

I might be in love with Nathan.

All the emotions and feelings he stirred up inside me made everything I’d ever felt for someone else seem dull and gray. Lifeless.  Like it had all been in black and white and now—suddenly, inexplicably—I was in Technicolor.  Like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz.  Everything was now awash with color, clear and vibrant like hi-definition.

Sharp. Vivid. Intense.

My heart stuttered
.  Had I just screwed everything up?
  I tried to think back over the past few weeks, remembering everything Nathan had said.

He’d been the one to say we needed to slow down.

He’d also been the one to break up with me, to tell me he couldn’t be serious.

Or casual. I reminded myself. 

I didn’t know if he was just scared or he really just had to focus on football right now. Maybe he just didn’t feel as strongly about me as I did him.  Or like Katie said he was scared and needed to push me away.  Maybe it was better that we broke up now if all of those things were true. 
Right?

Another realization struck me then.

I had to get over him.