A Shattered Moment (Fractured Lives 1)

“That’s the problem. I’m not sure how I feel. I’m attracted to him, but I’ve never been in a real relationship like this. You know about Zach and me, but that was different. We were technically ‘boyfriend’ and ‘girlfriend,’ but there was never that kind of love. Does that make sense?” Looking back now, I realized I never gave much thought to my relationship with Zach while we were dating. At least not until graduation night when I found out I was the third wheel.

“You know, Mac, you don’t have to be afraid to express yourself. If you want something more from Bentley than friendship alone, tell him. You might be surprised.”

For the rest of the session, we talked more about Bentley and how Trina and I had worked things out. Tanya seemed pleased that I was making some social progress in my life. I got my customary hug as I left, along with an offer to call her if I needed to talk more about my new budding relationship.

Bentley was waiting right where I told him to meet me when I left class that afternoon. “Hey.” He pulled me in for a quick hug.

My breath swooshed out of me in a rush as his arms pulled me close. The hug was unexpected and left me feeling slightly disoriented, especially since he lifted me off my feet. It had been a long time since someone had hugged me so impulsively. His arms were strong and sure as they locked me against his chest. The cologne he wore swirled around me, clouding my senses. I didn’t even know how to react. Before I knew it, he was already pulling away and plucking my backpack from my hands.

He trotted off toward the parking lot purposefully as I followed behind. I swear he had a way of constantly throwing me off guard. One time he wants to hold hands. Another time he swoops me up in his arms like he plans on ravishing me. Today he lifts me up and hugs me like he’s wrestling a bear and then he strolls ahead of me like I’m no different than one of his roommates. Trailing behind him, I wondered if he really was oblivious to everything going on.

thirteen

Bentley

So I hugged her like a soldier coming home from deployment. Friends hugged. Well, not my friends and me per se, but chicks hugged each other a lot. Somehow I come up with these ideas with Mac that sound romantic in my head, but my execution keeps falling short. I get myself worked up and take it one step too far. Hence the way a gentle one-armed hug practically turned into an assault. I was lucky she didn’t haul off and hit me. The only thing I could think of doing after that was to head for the car before she had a chance to ask what my problem was. Then I would have really sounded like an idiot because, quite frankly, my head was so fucked-up, I would’ve had nothing.

It was crazy how I kept telling myself not to be an asshole. To take it slow with Mac because she needed more time than any other girl I ever dated. I was cool with all that until I got around her. Then my nerves went to hell. I’ve been trained to stay calm under pressure and I still turn into a wuss around Mac.

By the time I reached the car, I had managed to pull myself together. Thankfully Mac had followed me, which for whatever dumb-ass reason, I had neglected to consider. Turning around, I could see she was trying her hardest to keep up. I definitely felt like the douche of the year after that.

“Shit¸ I’m sorry.”

“For what?” she huffed out, trying to catch her breath. She genuinely looked confused.

“For making you chase after me,” I answered, opening the car door for her. “You should have whacked me in the back of the head.”

“I didn’t mind,” she confessed as she buckled her seat belt.

“Well, I mind. What kind of asshole does that? My mom would hit me with a club if she saw all her hard work of trying to make a gentleman out of me going down the tubes.”

“It made me feel normal.”

“What do you mean, it made you feel normal? You look pretty normal to me.”

“You were walking like you normally do. I had to work to keep up with you, but it made me feel for the first time in forever that I wasn’t holding someone back. It was nice. Like you forgot about this,” she said, thumping her cane.

“That cane doesn’t define you,” I said, pulling up in front of my complex.

She snorted. “Of course it does. It’s a glaring reminder of everything that happened and everything I’m no longer able to do. It’s like I’m dragging along a ball and chain everywhere I go.”

“Is it really that bad?” I wanted to understand, but how could I relate to those types

of feelings?

She shrugged, but didn’t answer.

I jumped out of the car after parking and helped her climb out before scooping her up in my arms.

“What are you doing?” she yelped.

“Isn’t that obvious? I’m carrying you up the stairs.”

“The stairs are all the way over there,” she said dryly, even though I noticed she had marginally relaxed in my arms.

“I figured it was just as easy to pick you up here.”

“Maybe you could at least ask before you keep picking me up. I’m beginning to think you went into the wrong profession. You sure you didn’t want to be one of those pro wrestlers on TV?”