Love Scars - 3: Stop

Love Scars - 3: Stop by Lark Lane Page B

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Authors: Lark Lane
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surprised, not after my big freakout. But I was confused. Last night he was wonderful. He brought me out of my flashback. I’m here, he’d said. His calm deep voice had reached into the chaos in my mind and pulled me back to sanity like a lifeline.
    It was a blur to me now, but I would swear he kissed me first. I could still taste him, still feel his mouth on mine, his longing. I could feel his arms around me, holding me so close to his hard muscular chest.
    And later, he called me beautiful. You’re an American Beauty. Was I remembering that wrong?
    I wasn’t remembering us tearing off our clothes wrong, or the desperate need in me that he answered so well. Or his perfect body, lean, hard, and muscular. Or his confident handling of me, strong but gentle. I’d held him and stroked him, naked beneath me. I swelled between my legs thinking about it now. He wanted me. I know he did—and then he didn’t. He pulled away, and to protect myself I did too.
    Then in bed this morning it felt so friendly and comfortable and safe, joking about his shoes and guessing his name. I thought he liked me. But he was just being nice until he could get away.
    He turned his bike onto the road, and the roses climbing the fence at the front of the yard blocked him from my sight. He was gone.
    I turned away from the window. I would never see him again. For the few hours we’d spent together, it had felt good to be alive in the world. I hadn’t felt like in a long, long time.
    In a way, I was glad we didn’t have sex. I didn’t want him mixed in with my hazy memory of the one-night stands of my rage binge, as I called it. My year of living dangerously.
    In the kitchen, Frank and Lisa were locked in a passionate embrace. Frank saw me come in and broke it off. “A guy can kiss his fiancée before he goes to work in the morning,” he said, grinning.
    He was dressed for work, with his white vet coat on. He always seemed more than two years older than us, and the coat made him look like a frigging adult.
    Lisa stood up on her toes and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “You’d better kiss yours anytime she wants it.” She poured out two cups of coffee, and as she put one in front of me on the counter her engagement ring sparkled.
    I grabbed her hand and held it up in the morning sunlight. “Very nice.” I hugged her. I could tell my face was red. I hadn’t said anything about it in the bathroom. “Things were so crazy last night. I didn’t get a chance to tell you guys congratulations.”
    “Thanks, Nor ,” Lisa said.
    Frank rinsed out his coffee cup and put it in the dishwasher with a shudder. “That’s it. I’m getting you your own espresso machine. I should have done it ages ago.” He put an arm around Lisa’s neck and pulled her close for a kiss. “The Saturday shift calls, baby doll. I’ve got to go.”
    I looked at Lisa and mouthed baby doll? Eww. She shrugged and rolled her eyes. I guess she really loved him. He was different this morning. Possessive. I wasn’t sure I liked it, but I wasn’t the one marrying him.
    “By the way.” Frank stopped at the back door. “J.D. looked at your precious Perns. He had one out and was reading all over it.” He flashed a smile and was gone.
    “That’s all right.” Lisa looked at me with a worried expression. “How would J.D. know?”
    I went to the bookcase and ran my hand over the top of the books. My mom’s set of Dragonriders of Pern looked undisturbed. I mentally crabbed at myself. My precious Perns, as Frank called them, were off limits to everyone. I hadn’t thought to put them somewhere safe before the party.
    When the sheriff’s deputy brought me home from Foresthill, I had found The White Dragon lying open on my little brother’s bed. Nick and I had been reading the books at the same time. Just that week we’d both started The White Dragon . We’d steal it back and forth, neither of us willing to wait until the other finished.
    I never opened The White Dragon

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