Ugly Love

The second my teeth meet his skin, I hear the hitch in his breath and feel the stiffening in his legs.

He almost loses.

Almost.

If he moves inside me even an inch more while he’s touching me this way, he’ll win. I don’t want him to win.

Then again, I kind of do want him to win, and I’m thinking he wants to win with the way he breathes against my neck, gently lowering me back down onto him.

Miles, Miles, Miles.

He can sense that this isn’t about to end in a tie, so he adds more pressure against me with his fingers at the same time as his tongue meets my ear.

Oh, wow.

I’m about to lose.

Any second now.

Oh, my word.

He lifts his hips when he pulls me against him, forcing an involuntary “Miles!” out of my mouth, along with a gasp and a moan. I lift off of him, but as soon as he realizes he just won, he exhales heavily and pulls me back onto him with more force.

“Finally,” he says breathlessly against my neck. “I didn’t think I could last another second.”

Now that the competition is over, both of us let loose completely until we’re being so loud we have to kiss again to stifle our sounds. Our bodies are moving in sync, speeding up, crashing harder together. We continue our frantic pace for a few more minutes, escalating in intensity until I’m positive I can’t take another second of him.

“Tate,” he says against my mouth, slowing the rhythm of my hips with his hands. “I want us to come together.”

Oh, holy hell.

If he wants me to last any longer, he can’t say things like that. I nod my head, unable to form a coherent response.

“Are you almost there?” he asks.

I nod again and try my best to speak this time, but nothing comes out other than another moan.

“Is that a yes?”

His lips have stopped kissing mine, and he’s focused on my response now. I bring my hands to the back of his head and press my cheek to his.

“Yes,” I somehow utter. “Yes, Miles. Yes.” I feel myself begin to tense at the same time as he sucks in a sharp breath.

I thought we were holding each other tightly before, but that doesn’t begin to compare to this moment. It feels as if all our senses have magically melded together and we’re feeling the exact same sensations, making the exact same noises, experiencing the exact same intensity, and sharing the exact same response.

Our rhythm gradually begins to slow, right along with the tremors in our bodies. The tight grips we have around each other begin to loosen. He buries his face into my hair and exhales heavily.

“Loser,” he whispers.

I laugh and move to bite him playfully on his neck. “You cheated,” I say. “You brought in illegal reinforcement when you started using your hands.”

He laughs with a shake of his head. “Hands are fair game. But if you think I cheated, maybe we should have a rematch.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Best two out of three?”

He lifts me by my waist and begins to push me toward the passenger door as he struggles to get behind the steering wheel. He hands me my clothes, pulls his shirt back over his head, and buttons his jeans. Once he’s situated, I adjust myself in the passenger seat and finish dressing while he cranks the car. He throws it in reverse and begins backing out. “Buckle up,” he says with a wink.

We barely made it out of the elevator, much less to his bed. He almost took me right there in the hallway. The sad part is, I wouldn’t have minded.

He won again. I’m beginning to realize that competing for who can stay the quietest isn’t really a good idea when my competitor is naturally the quietest person I’ve ever met.

I’ll get him in round three. Just not tonight, because Corbin will more than likely be heading home soon.

Miles is staring at me. He’s on his stomach, with his hands folded across his pillow and his head resting on his arms. I’m getting dressed, because I want to beat Corbin to our apartment so I don’t have to lie about where I’ve been.

Miles follows me around his bedroom with his eyes as I dress.

“I think your bra is still in the hallway,” he says with a laugh. “Might want to grab it before Corbin finds it.”

I crinkle up my nose at the thought. “Good idea,” I say. I kneel down on the bed and kiss him on the cheek, but he wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me forward as he rolls onto his back. He gives me an even better kiss than the one I was just giving him.

“Can I ask you a question?”

He nods, but it’s a forced nod. He’s nervous about my questions.

“Why don’t you ever make eye contact when we’re having sex?”

My question throws him for a loop. He regards me for several silent moments until I pull even farther away and sit next to him on the bed, waiting for his answer.

He pushes himself up and leans back against his headboard, staring down at his hands. “People are vulnerable during sex,” he says with a shrug. “It’s easy to confuse feelings and emotions for something they aren’t, especially when eye contact is involved.” He lifts his eyes to mine. “Does it bother you?”

I’m shaking my head no, but my heart is crying Yes! “I’ll get used to it, I guess. I was just curious.”

I love being with him but hate myself more and more with each new lie that passes my lips.

He smiles and pulls me back to his mouth, kissing me with more finality this time. “Good night, Tate.”

I back away and walk out of his room, feeling his eyes on me the entire time. It’s funny how he refuses to make eye contact during sex yet can’t seem to keep his eyes off me the rest of the time.

I don’t feel like going back to the apartment yet, so after retrieving my bra, I walk to the elevators and make my way down to the lobby to see if Cap is still around. I barely had a chance to wave at him earlier before Miles shoved me onto the elevator and ravished me.

Sure enough, Cap is still planted in his chair, despite the fact that it’s after ten o’clock at night.

“Do you ever sleep?” I ask as I make my way to the chair next to him.

“People are more interesting at night,” he says. “I like to sleep late. Avoid all the fools who are in too much of a rush in the mornings.”

I sigh a lot louder than I intend to when I lean my head back into the chair. Cap notices and turns to look at me.

“Oh, no,” he says. “Trouble with the boy? Looked like the two of you were getting along fine a couple of hours ago. Think I might have even seen a hint of a smile on his face when he walked in with you.”

“Things are fine,” I say. I pause for a few seconds, gathering my thoughts. “Have you ever been in love, Cap?”

A slow smile spreads across his face. “Oh, yes,” he says. “Her name was Wanda.”

“How long were you married?”

He looks at me and cocks an eyebrow. “I ain’t never been married,” he says. “I think Wanda’s marriage lasted about forty years before she passed, though.”

I tilt my head, trying to understand what he’s saying. “You have to give me more than that.”

He sits up straighter in his chair, the smile still on his face. “She lived in one of the buildings I did maintenance for. She was married to a bastard of a man who was only home about two weeks out of the month. I fell in love with her when I was around thirty years old. She was in her mid-twenties. People just didn’t get divorced back then once they got married. Especially women like her who came from the type of family she came from. So I spent the next twenty-five years loving her as hard as I could for two weeks out of every month.”

I stare at him, not sure how to respond to that. It’s not the typical love story people usually tell. I’m not even sure if it can be considered a love story.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he says. “Sounds depressing. More like a tragedy.”

I nod, confirming his assumption.

“Love isn’t always pretty, Tate. Sometimes you spend all your time hoping it’ll eventually be something different. Something better. Then, before you know it, you’re back to square one, and you lost your heart somewhere along the way.”

I stop looking at him and face forward. I don’t want him to see the frown that I can’t seem to remove from my face.

Is that what I’m doing? Waiting for things with Miles to become something different? Something better? I contemplate his words for way too long. So long, in fact, I hear snoring. I cut my eyes in Cap’s direction, and his chin has dropped to his chest. His mouth is wide open, and he’s sound asleep.

Chapter eighteen

MILES

Six years earlier

I rub her back reassuringly. “Two more minutes,” I tell her.

She nods but keeps her face pressed into the palms of her

hands. She doesn’t want to look.

I don’t tell her we don’t actually need the two minutes. I don’t

tell her the results are already there, clear as day.

I don’t tell Rachel she’s pregnant yet, because she still has two

minutes left of hope.

I continue to rub her back. When the timer goes off, she

doesn’t move. She doesn’t turn to look at the results. I

drop my head to the side of hers until my mouth is close

to her ear.

“I’m so sorry, Rachel,” I whisper. “I’m so, so sorry.”

She bursts into tears.

My heart is crushed at the sound.

This is my fault. This is all my fault.

The only thing I can think to do now is figure out how to

rectify it.

I turn her toward me and wrap my arms around her. “I’ll tell

them you don’t feel well and you can’t go to school today. I

want you to stay here until I get back.”

She doesn’t even nod. She continues to cry, so I pick her

up and carry her to the bed. I go back to the bathroom and

package up the test, then hide it underneath the sink in the

very back. I rush to my room and change clothes.

I leave.

I’m gone most of the day.

I’m rectifying.

When I finally pull back up our driveway, I still have almost an

hour before my father and Lisa are due home. I grab everything

from my front seat and rush inside to check on her. I left my

phone behind in my rush this morning, so I haven’t had a way to

check on her at all, and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t killing me.

I go inside.

I go to her door.

I attempt to turn it, but it’s locked.

I knock.

“Rachel?”

I hear movement. Something crashes against the door, and I

jump back. When I realize what’s happened, I step forward

again and bang on the door. “Rachel!” I yell, frantic. “Open the

door!”

I hear her crying. “Go away!”

I take two steps back, then lunge forward and shove my

shoulder against the door as hard as I can. The door flies open,

and I rush inside. Rachel is curled up against the headboard,

crying into her hands. I reach her.

She pushes me away.

I walk back to her.

She slaps me, then scoots off the bed. She stands up, shoving

me back, pushing her palms against my chest. “I hate you!” she

screams through her tears. I grab her hands and try to calm her

down. It makes her angrier. “Just leave!” she yells. “If you don’t

want anything to do with me, just leave!”

Her words stun me.

“Rachel, stop,” I plead. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Her tears come harder now. She screams at me. She says I

left her. I put her in bed this morning, and I left her because I

couldn’t handle it. I was disappointed in her.

I love you, Rachel. More than I love myself.

“Baby, no,” I tell her, pulling her to me. “I didn’t leave you. I

told you I was coming back.”

I hate that she didn’t understand why I left today.

I hate that I didn’t explain it to her.

I walk her back to the bed, and I position her against the

headboard. “Rachel,” I say, touching her tear-stained cheek,

“I’m not disappointed in you,” I tell her. “Not in the least. I’m

disappointed in myself. Which is why I want to do everything

I possibly can to turn this around for you. For us. That’s what

I’ve been doing today. I’ve been trying to find a way to make

this better for us.”

I stand up and grab the folders, then spread them out on the