More Than Lies (More Than #1)(69)

He is a jerk most days. Maybe he just doesn’t see it. I mean, he has his sweet moments. Shawn isn’t an uncaring person like he would like everyone to believe. The truth is, he loves hard if you’re a part of his circle Shawn takes care of those he cares about. In his own way, sure, but the point is that he does.

At the thought of my brother, everything before Shawn coming home crashes down on top of me like a building set up with dynamite to implode, and I again feel the pit inside me growing.

That phone call was my undoing. The moment Shane said my name I felt the arrow pierce the skin on my chest in front of my heart. His voice was weak, and I could tell he had been crying. It was so apparent I could feel it within my own body. He struggled with his words, but eventually got out that there had been an accident. Tears sprung to my eyes because there would only be one reason he was calling me, and that meant it involved Trent. I couldn’t speak. I didn’t want to ask the question screaming inside my head. When Shane told me my brother was gone, I stopped breathing and my cell phone fell out of my hands. I bolted from my bedroom and out of the house. I needed the air that had been ripped from of my lungs. It didn’t matter though; the cold January night did nothing to assuage the emptiness in my chest. I didn’t start breathing again until the moment I realized Shawn was hunched down in front of me last night.

“How did it happen?” Shawn’s voice brings me out of my reverie. There is no need for him to explain his question since I’m sure it’s written all over my face that I’m thinking about my brother. I’ve often been told I wear my feelings loud and clear for everyone to see. That’s both true and false. Although that’s the case when it comes to most people, with my family, my mother mainly, I hide my feelings well. It’s hard work, but I usually do a decent job. It’s just easier than dealing with her judgments.

Taking a deep breath, I sling myself off Shawn, pulling the creamy blue sheet with me as I do. Wrapping it around me to cover my naked chest, I flop down, landing flat on my back next to Shawn. My movement knocks him back into a laying position. He twists, rising up onto his elbow to face me.

“A wreck is all I know.” I feel the tears pooling into my eyes. “Shane called me late last night around eleven. Trent was on his motorcycle, got hit by a car, and died at the scene of the crash.” I can’t hold them back. The liquid spills over, down the sides of my face and into my ears before pooling on the pillowcase under my head. This is the first time I’ve let the facts fall from my lips. Saying it out loud makes it so much more real. I’m never going to see him again, talk to him, even if it’s through a stupid text message.

His right hand cups my face and his forehead comes down to rest on top of mine. It’s comforting. “Fuck.” He breathes the words out. “I’m sorry, Tara. I should have been here. Fuck, I’m sorry.” I don’t know why he’s telling me he’s sorry. It’s not his fault. Maybe it’s just what people say, I don’t know. I’ve never dealt with death before. This is new.

Before I can tell him he has nothing to be sorry for, his lips land on mine. My mouth parts in automatic response to his touch. I could lose myself in his mouth alone. Last night I did just that, and more. Had Shawn denied me, I don’t think I would have made it through the night. I don’t know if someone can die from a broken heart, but that’s exactly what I imagine a slow death feeling like.

It’s not a passionate kiss; nothing like the kisses from hours earlier. This kiss is an apology, and I still have no idea why.

“Shawn?” I breathe his name into his mouth. His slow movements come to a halt, but his lips remain on top of my own. I can’t pull back. I’m already pressed into the mattress as it is with him leaning over me. “This isn’t your doing.” He lifts, pulling back an inch or two to look at me.

“I know, but my phone kept blowing up last night. I never checked it, but if I had . . . Had I answered, I would have been home sooner.” I can see pain and regret in his eyes. It shouldn’t be there. He had no way of knowing.

He clenches his eyes together.

“Shawn, you didn’t do anything wrong. You did everything right. Thank you.” Did I really just thank him for sex? Yeah I guess I did, but I don’t care. I needed everything he gave me. He told me not to regret him when I woke up. He needs to know I don’t. I could never.

His eyes open, but he isn’t looking into my eyes. From the looks of his, he’s staring at my lips. I’m not stupid. I might write romantic happily ever after’s, but I know they aren’t real. When I leave Shawn’s bed I’ll never grace it again. Knowing that though, it doesn’t do anything to wash away my hope. I’ll never stop wanting him.

“I have no regrets, Shawn.” His eyes snap to mine. “None.”

Shawn wants me to stay on at Wicked Ink after graduation, but I already know I can’t. I can’t continue living in a fairy tale world that will never come true. I’ve lived here with him for nearly four years. It’s been the hardest four years of my life. Being so close to him yet never having the chance to be together is painful. It’s too hard. It’s just too much, and I can’t keep it up.

His mouth crashes down onto mine, urgently this time, and again my lips part automatically, accepting him. The moment his tongue touches mine, I feel him start to expand from underneath the sheet. His hardening cock is pressed against the back of my hand and hipbone, on the same spot he inked the most beautiful work of art onto my body just a few months ago.