This Regret

I brush a strand of soft, thin hair behind her ear and bend down, pulling the blanket over her before grabbing the bottle of Jack from her limp hand. There is no empty glass present, meaning she drank straight from the bottle. She only does that when she is on a panic from her thoughts of dad and needs to smother them quickly. Standing, I bring the almost empty, black labeled bottle into the kitchen and pour it down the drain, tossing the glass in the trash.

My mom has gone through so much heartache over the years and although she hasn’t always handled them the correct way, I know deep down she cares. She really needs to find a better way to cope with her problems or Zoe will follow in her footsteps, which is why I just hope Zoe knows as well. She needs to know she has a mother that loves her. Every child should know that feeling.

After cleaning the house, I take a quick shower, throw on a towel and sit outside on the front porch since everyone is still sleeping. I sit there with my head back, the breeze blowing through my wet hair, as I stare into the dark sky, waiting for sunrise. It’s so peaceful; here by myself, feeling free as I close my eyes and just breathe. I sit here lost in thought, peeling at the chair's old paint underneath me, until the sound of a motorcycle distracts me. I get an instant sinking feeling in my gut as the sound gets closer, until finally it’s right in front of my house. At least, I hope. I haven’t found the courage to find out yet.

I look over and my heart jumps right out of my chest at the sight of Kellan. He wears a pair of faded jeans, an old white tee and leather jacket, unzipped that falls perfectly just below his waist.

He slides the helmet from his head, pushes his thick hair from his face, looks at me, and kills the engine. It takes a minute for my brain to connect with my body, but when it does, I scramble to my feet, gripping the towel and lean against the door.

After days of no communication, he just shows up out of nowhere at six in the morning, looking sexy as can be. It confuses the crap out of me and almost makes me want to hit him for getting my emotions all haywire. He’s the only one who does that to me.

“Kellan,” I say in surprise, looking him over as he steps onto the porch. “What are you doing here? Is everything okay?” I can’t help but to think something must be wrong. Like maybe, this is goodbye. Maybe he’s already all packed up and ready to get back to his old life. I don’t want that and it breaks my heart. “What’s the backpack for?” Please don’t say you’re leaving. Not yet.

His eyes meet mine and keep their hold as he reaches around and grabs his backpack, pulling it off. “I couldn’t sleep.” He unzips the backpack and pulls out some pizza crust. “I thought maybe you’d want to cook breakfast with me.” He smiles and slides his fingers through the top loop, holding it up in front of me. “I brought all your favorite toppings. You have to say yes now.”

I can’t help the blush that creeps over my face, staining my cheeks red. I can’t believe he remembered. It was so long ago. Once when I was fourteen, he caught me in the kitchen at six in the morning making a pizza. I thought he was going to laugh, but instead he jumped up on the counter and helped me put the toppings on. Then we ate it together and sat around talking for hours until everyone else finally woke up and broke up the fun. That day, I fell more in love with him than I already had been. Now, he’s going to make me fall again, but harder this time and I’m afraid I might break something that will never fully recover. Now that I’ve had a taste of what it’s like to be in those arms, I’m screwed. How can I ever get past that?

I smile and lower my eyes to my towel, noticing my right thigh is almost fully exposed and when I look up, I see his eyes have lowered to my towel as well. The hooded look in his eyes sends a surge of excitement through me. I have to fight the urge to reach out, press my lips against his, and slide his hand under my towel to feel his touch again. Damn, this sucks. I have to play it cool though. “I could go for a pizza. You better have some bacon in that bag,” I threaten. “And chicken.”

His eyes light up as he takes a step forward and places his hand under my chin. He brings my eyes up to meet his smoldering ones. They’re so beautiful, my soul aches. “I know what you like and trust me . . . I have it,” he says huskily. He runs his fingers up the flap of the towel that is barely covering my thigh and smiles. “Now come on and stop trying to seduce me. You’ll still get the pizza either way.”

I reach out with both hands and shove his stiff chest. “Shut up, smart ass. Who says I would ever try to seduce you? The Kellan Haze that every girl loves.”

He smirks, obviously amused by my answer, holds the door open for me to walk in, and then he follows in suit behind me. His eyes flick over to the couch, then my new bed on the floor but he doesn’t say anything. He just looks over at me and grabs my hand, pulling me into the kitchen.

He sets the backpack down on the counter, grabs me by the hips, picks me up, and sets me down next to the backpack. “This time I’ll do the messy part and you can just toss the toppings on like I did.” His hands linger on my waist, making my insides go mad. I look down at his arms, causing him to be aware of where his hands are still holding me. He lets go and grabs the backpack, unzipping it the rest of the way.

“Sure,” I breathe. I can’t help but stare at the way the muscles in his arm flex every time he pulls something out of the bag. Damn, why must he be so delicious? “I think I can manage that.” I grab the bottom of the towel between my fingers, while still watching him. “Shouldn’t I get dressed first?”

“Nah, stay like that.” He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth and starts removing the wrapper from the crust. “I like you this way. Natural is sexy as hell on you.” He smirks, leans in close to my neck and whispers, “And you smell like cupcakes. You know how much I love cupcakes.”

Mmm . . . that mouth of his! It’s been nothing but torture over the years. I should hate him for it, but I don’t. I can’t. “So, it was always you sneaking the last cupcake? I kind of figured. Kellan always gets what he wants,” I tease.

He lets out an agitated laugh and grips the counter. “If that were true . . .” He turns to look me in the eye and the intensity makes my leg quiver. “Then I would have you, Phoenix.”

I sit there, not saying a thing, as I look him in the eye. I don’t know what to say. How does a girl respond to such a thing without sounding too desperate? Hell, what am I saying? I think I am desperate. “And if you wanted me, Kellan . . . I would be yours.”