Chaos and Control(65)

“I shouldn’t.”

“Stay,” he repeats.

His plea is just a whisper between us. It is the first time he’s asked me for anything, and suddenly, I can’t find the strength to deny him. Preston recognizes my resignation, pulls my bag from my shoulder, and throws it over his own. He takes my hand and pulls me inside.

I feel defeated and relieved at the same time. These two emotions war inside me, and all I can focus on is Preston’s hand in mine. At the top of the stairs, he wraps me in a hug and squeezes so tight it lifts me off the ground. He places four kisses on top of my head, and I close my eyes to stay in this moment just a little longer.

“Give me a chance to be what you need,” he says.

My fingers curl into his back, pulling him closer, but it’s never close enough. I do need him. In this moment, Preston is all I need.

I lock my hands around his neck and hop up. He catches my thighs and wraps them around his waist as I attack his mouth. He tastes like sweet mint. Preston fumbles with the door, finally getting it open and moving us inside. He presses my back against the wall and grinds his hips into me.

“Yes,” I say. “Preston, I do need you.”

His lips move to my chin, across my jaw, and down to my neck. His warm tongue slides over my pulse point before gently biting down. I whimper and bring his face back to mine, pushing my tongue inside his mouth again. Our kiss is heated and messy with clashing teeth and a consuming greed for the other’s taste.

When we come up for air, Preston sets me down on my feet. Our panting breaths meet in the space between us. He reaches behind his head, grabs the collar, and pulls his T-shirt off. It lands on the floor silently. The rise and fall of his chest, each curve and dip of skin and muscle has me mesmerized.

Preston’s fingers go to the button of his jeans, and this snaps me out of my ogling. I rip my shirt off and unhook my bra. My boots are next, and then it’s a struggle to get my skinny jeans pushed to the ground. Preston’s jeans hit the floor, and I’m distracted by the sight of him in those gray boxer briefs. I try to step toward him and forget that my jeans are still wrapped around my ankles.

I let out a shriek as I fall, and Preston catches me against his chest.

“Damn these jeans,” I mumble, finally pulling free of them.

Preston grins at my clumsiness.

“So, this is it.” He runs his hands over my shoulders and down my arms, leaving goose bumps in their wake.

“This is it,” I answer. “Do you need a drink or something?”

Preston looks at the space above my head, as if pondering my question. “No.”

“Good,” I answer with a smile.

Suddenly, his face scrunches up, eyes shut tight. “Shit!”

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t have any protection.”

“Shit,” I repeat. I place my hands on his waist and lean into his chest. “Wait! Bennie has condoms in her room. Remember?”

“Because that’s not embarrassing.”

“She’s not home. She’s at The Haystack. I’ll just go get them and come back.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” I place a kiss on Preston’s chest and retrieve his T-shirt from the floor, pulling it over my head. “I’ll be right back.”

My body is buzzing, an electric current racing through my insides. Though my emotions are everywhere, I know that I want this. I want him. I slip out of Preston’s door and into Bennie’s apartment wearing nothing but my underwear and his oversize T-shirt.

“Ben?” I call out to make sure she’s not home. No answer. I crack open her bedroom door and am not surprised to find it hasn’t changed since the last time I saw it. I go to her nightstand and find nothing but a bag of weed and rolling papers.

“Ha! I knew it.” I laugh out loud. “Where would condoms be?” I enter her bathroom and pull the medicine cabinet open. There are bottles and bottles of prescription medications lining each shelf.

“What the hell?” I say to myself.

My head is spinning, and I can’t seem to make sense of any of it. I scoop all of the bottles into the sink and load them up using the bottom of Preston’s shirt. I drop them all onto her bed; the rattling of pills against plastic sounds like rain. Most of the bottles seem to be full and have been prescribed in the last few months. So, she has all these meds, and she’s not taking them?

As I read the label of each bottle, I try to comprehend what this means. What are they all for? I recognize the names of a couple of painkillers, but that’s it. When I’ve looked through all of them, I spot a book shoved under one of Bennie’s pillows.

Thinking it’s one of her kinky erotic novels, I smile and pull it out. My eyes read over the title again and again. My brain failing to accept what’s written. I feel the air leave my lungs, and all of a sudden, I’m drowning. I can’t feel the bed or the floor beneath my feet. My head is spinning.

“I don’t…” I read the title again, forcing myself to say it out loud. “A Cancer Answer: Holistic Breast Cancer Management.”

I slide to the floor and clutch the book to my chest. “Cancer?”

Tears blur my vision, and I can’t see anything. Every little hint since I arrived home now seems so glaringly obvious. She’s too thin and pale. She sleeps all the time. She was going to church and drinking heavily, lying about spending time with Laney. Her trip to the hospital. This giant truth sits on my chest, and I can’t breathe.