If You Never Come Back Read online

  “I’m so lucky you’re mine.” His voice shakes when he says it.

  There’s no time to comment though because soon his mouth is on mine. Under a sheet of steam and water, our tongues tease and collide. The kisses between us are wet fire, igniting us from the inside, exploding in invisible flames around us.

  Every lick, every taste of him in my mouth is pure heat, just like every other kiss we’ve shared. This time is different for me, though. Wes doesn’t say it, but I know it is for him, too. Everything about the way he gazes at me, the words he spoke to me just now, the way he’s grabbing at my body like he never, ever wants to let go, sends the message loud and clear.

  Wes is letting me in.

  Wet, warm hands hold my face, tilting me up to look at him. I’m locked into that burnt umber stare, hypnotized forever.

  “You are everything to me, Shay.” He speaks through broken breath, water dripping from his face, his eyes still fire. “You know that, right?”

  I nod. Even though I know he’s still holding back, I know he means this. And it’s enough for me right now.

  “You know that you’re everything to me too, don’t you?” I gasp.

  I hope he hears the conviction in my voice; I hope he knows that since he’s my everything, he can tell me everything too.

  There’s a nod from and another desperate string of kisses. One of his hands slides down between my legs. His thick fingers press against me, and the heat is like heaven. He moves in quick circles, each one twisting me tighter and tighter into myself.

  He scrapes his teeth against my shoulder, and I groan. Tilting his head, he leans his mouth to my ear. “You have me, Shay. Every last part of me.”

  His growl shoves me right to the edge. Another few circles and I’m gone, freefalling off the edge.

  I scream yes, I scream please, I scream more. He delivers, sliding his fingers inside me as I ride out the rest of my orgasm on wobbly knees. If his hands are soft bliss, his body is a concrete haven. I thrash and grab and bite him through my climax, but he stays as still.

  When I come down, I grab the back of his neck with one hand. The other slides from his shoulder to the hardness between his legs.

  I kiss and lick over the claw marks I left on his shoulder, but all he does is smile. “Hottest thing in the world is seeing your marks on me.”

  With him in my palm, I slide back and forth. His smile turns to a straight line of concentration a minute later. I dollop body wash into my hand and quicken my strokes. He responds with a growl and eyebrows pinched together.

  That far-off stare takes over his eyes. I tip-toe up to kiss him.

  “You have me too, Wes,” I say into his mouth after another kiss. “All of me.”

  Burying his face into my shoulder, he presses his teeth against my skin. The perfect balance of pleasure and pain. He spills into my hand seconds later.

  While he breathes through his own comedown, I wrap my hands around him, pressing soft kisses across his chest. My own chest swells with joy, with an emotional satisfaction I’ve never known before. In this moment, it’s all okay. Maybe Wes can’t speak the words that I want him to say right now, but his body has told me so much more. And it’s enough. If I can have him like this—his feelings, his stare, his heart all mine—I can wait for the words.

  Chapter Eight

  “Thanks again for agreeing to come.” I gaze over at Wes sitting in the passenger seat of my car.

  The smile he flashes is tight. I don’t blame him at all. Meeting the parents is never fun. I’ve done it a few times myself with guys I’ve dated and it’s always nerve-racking. Best case scenario, it’s awkward hugging and stilted conversation. Worst case scenario, it’s so uncomfortable you wish you could peel your skin off just to have something else to do.

  I was careful when I asked him if he wanted to meet them yesterday. Mom had been bombarding me with texts and calls over the past week, asking when I was finally going to bring my new boyfriend over for her and Dad to meet. Finally, I gave in and asked Wes if he’d be up for it. With that same tight smile on his face, he said yes.

  With one hand on the steering wheel, I reach for his hand. The gentle squeeze I give him seems to do something. He turns his stare from the road ahead to me. His eyes thaw to something more tender; his brow smooths from its wrinkled frown.

  “Seriously, thank you,” I say. “It really does mean a lot that you’re meeting them. Gushing about you over the phone just isn’t cutting it anymore.”

  My try for something lighthearted to ease his nerves seems to have worked. The soft laugh he lets out is music to my ears after a twenty-minute silence during this car ride.

  “That’s a lot to live up to,” he says, his lightly tanned cheeks flushing red.

  “Just be yourself. You’ll blow them away.”

  When I pull into my parents’ block, I scan the dozen cars lining the street. One of their neighbors must be having a get-together. I pull into their driveway, then take Wes’s hand in mine as we walk up to the door.

  Before I can offer a few last words of encouragement, Mom bursts out the front door, arms as wide as her smile as she trots to us.

  She pays me a brief moment of eye contact before pulling Wes down into a hug. Even with him bent at the waist to meet her tiny size, he still dwarfs her five-foot-tall self.

  “It’s so nice to finally meet you!” she says in her signature sing-song voice. With Wes in her embrace, she sways back and forth, like she’s rocking a baby.

  Wes twists his head, his wide, unblinking gaze meeting mine. Again I open my mouth to say sorry and politely tell her to release him from her death-hug, but then my dad trots out from the front door.

  “Oh, Gloria. Let the poor guy go before you crack his ribs.” He pats his slight potbelly before chuckling. He pulls me into a hug before I can do anything to help Wes. “How you doin’, sweetie? Good to see you.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” My voice comes out muffled against his shoulder. He clears six feet, so even his side hugs engulf me.

  He releases me at the same moment Mom finally lets Wes out of her hold. I bend down to hug her, mouthing “sorry” to Wes. A hesitant smile appears. “It’s okay,” he mouths back.

  I let out a sigh of sweet relief when Dad offers him a friendly handshake and not a bear hug.

  “Come inside!” Mom says, waving us in. “Everyone is so excited to see you both!”

  My stomach and heart fall in tandem to my feet when I step inside. Instead of the quiet lunch with just my parents that I promised Wes, my entire extended family who lives in the area is crammed into their home.

  Wes and I are rushed by a wave of cousins and aunties and uncles. Instantly, we’re pulled into hugs and given cheek kisses. Laughter and excited questions echo around us. It’s sensory overload, but I’m used to it—this is how every family gathering goes. But Wes isn’t. All he had growing up were his friends and his dad, who was never around. Judging from what Colin said, Wes has never experienced a large gathering of relatives trying to smother him with affection.

  That’s why even though on the outside I’m sputtering pleasantries, I’m discreetly scanning the room for Wes. This must be a nightmare for him, all these strangers itching to hug him.

  I quickly answer a question from my cousin about my art website before my gaze lands on Wes, who is now on the other side of the living room having his cheeks pinched by my Great Aunt Nima. When she starts to ask him about marriage and kids, I make a beeline for them. Poor Wes doesn’t need to be put on the spot by auntie Nima when the two of us haven’t even had that conversation.

  But then Mom catches my elbow, halting me. “Honey! What a sweetheart Wes is! Look how well he’s taking to the family!”

  She points over at him still standing with Auntie Nima. She releases him, but judging by the tense smile on his face and how he stands with his arms crossed, he isn’t comfortable at all.

  I turn to her. “Why did you invite the whole family over? This was supposed to be
just lunch with you and Dad.”

  She waves her hand in the air. “I thought this would be so much more fun. And almost everyone could make it. Well, except Remy because he had to work, but he’s met Wes before, so it’s fine. It’s been so long since we’ve done a big family gathering. Wasn’t it a nice surprise?”

  I sigh, silently ordering myself to rein in my frustration. I can’t lash out at her, not in front of everyone. She did this with the best of intentions. That doesn’t erase the anxiety so obviously coursing through Wes though. What I would give for Remy to be here. At least he would have been a familiar face in the crowd.

  “It’s just all a bit overwhelming for Wes,” I say.

  She frowns and shakes her head. “Don’t be ridiculous. Look. He’s fine.”

  For a split second, I contemplate telling her that his standoffish posture and pursed lips are the exact opposite of fine, but she walks away to talk to my uncle before I can get a word in.

  I look up in Wes’s direction, but he’s disappeared. My heart pounds. In the time that I stopped and talked to my mom, I’m sure at least one other relative has asked him the marriage and kids question. Or maybe one of my cousins has dragged him off for that dreaded topic of “just what are your intentions with our Shay?”

  I spin around and catch him out of the corner of my eye nodding as my uncle is showing him photos from his wallet. I move to head over, but one of my cousin’s kids stops me to help get her a snack. When I finish helping her and look for Wes, he’s gone again. I sigh and trudge through the crowd once more.

  “I’m so, so sorry about that, Wes.” I focus on the road ahead, bracing myself for his response.

  It was a solid forty-five minutes before I could find Wes in the crowd of my family. He was in the den listening to my great uncle complain about social security benefits. By the dazed look on his face, he had had enough. I snatched him and we left soon after that when I made up an excuse that I wasn’t feeling well.

  Seconds pass, but Wes says nothing. I peer over at him in the passenger seat of my car. I nearly jolt at the stony look in his eyes, the hard line of his mouth. But part of me expects this. He’s not used to family, to huge, loud, touchy-feely gatherings that go on for hours. Shutting down is a normal response when a person is overwhelmed. I know this. And I want to help him through it.

  “My mom does that sometimes, invites the whole family over when it’s supposed to be a small gathering,” I try to explain. “I’ve had my whole life to get used to it, but still it gets on my nerves.”

  There’s no answer. He won’t even look at me.

  The drive finishes in strained silence. We walk up the stairs to my apartment that same way. When I lock the door behind me, I turn to him, wondering how to gently approach him in a way that encourages him to open up to me so I can help him through whatever he’s feeling.

  He chucks his wallet and keys on the table in the corner before spinning around to me. His frown is back, but this time with an edge. He rests his hands on his hips before he finally speaks. “Why didn’t you tell me your entire family might be there today?”

  “I didn’t know they would be. My mom sprung it on us as a surprise.”

  “But you said she does this sometimes.” His jaw clenches. “Why didn’t you say that earlier?”

  I open my mouth, but can’t think of anything to say. I probably should have thought to do that. It just never crossed my mind.

  When I say nothing, he turns away, shaking his head.

  “I know it was kind of shocking what she did, but she meant well,” I finally say. “She was just excited about meeting you. Sometimes she gets carried away like that. But you handled it so well.”

  When I step toward him, he holds a hand up. His frown turns lethal. I halt like I’ve been shoved away.

  “Kind of shocking?” Wes’s tone amps up a notch. And it’s so hard, so brutal that my ears ring. “You think today was just ‘kind of shocking?’ That’s hilarious.”

  He turns to the bed, kicking his backpack out from the corner. I follow him and rest my hand on his shoulder, but a half-second later he shrugs out of my touch.

  “Don’t,” he barks.

  I pull away like I’ve just singed my fingers on a hot stove. That’s the only move I can make at the moment. The rest of my body is frozen still at the anger in his voice, the way his body just rejected mine.

  He spins around to face me. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to be thrown into that kind of setting with no warning at all?”

  I don’t answer because I don’t have the slightest clue what to say. Because he’s right. I don’t know the first thing about what life has been like for him.

  “I didn’t grow up like you, Shay. I didn’t have a happy family or a happy home life like you. I was a kid whose own dad couldn’t take care of me.”

  He speaks to the floor, not me. It’s a weird kind of detachment that makes my chest ache.

  “And then I had your entire family bombard me with questions about when we’re getting married and having kids? Shit, we haven’t even talked about that.”

  I cringe thinking about how awful that must have felt for him to endure those questions without me there to buffer them.

  He keeps a normal volume, but it’s the way the words jump from his tongue, harsh and unrelenting, as if they’re poison. And it’s all for me.

  He crouches on the floor next to his backpack and unzips it. I walk over and crouch across from him.

  “I’m sorry they did that, but it’s not like I put them up to it,” I say, my voice strained. “It’s just normal family stuff that happens when someone brings home their significant other. I get that you’re upset, but please don’t be angry with me about this.”

  I pause, waiting for him to say something, anything. But he doesn’t. My skin pricks once more at how dismissive he’s being.

  My head spins. “Wes, how was I supposed to anticipate all this when you never told me that this sort of thing would upset you? I had to find out what happened to you from Colin,” I blurt.

  Wes’s frown turns to pure shock. He stands to his feet slowly. I follow.

  “You found out what from Colin?”

  The new softness in his tone doesn’t erase any of the anger. It actually cuts deeper. I’ve only ever heard that low, soft growl when he’s hugged me from behind and whispered all the naughty things he plans to do to me. That soft tone used to make me melt. Now it makes my skin crawl. What an absolute mindfuck.

  I swallow, matching my volume with his. “How after your dad went to jail, you went into foster care. How you eventually moved in with Colin’s family.” My throat squeezes.

  One look from Wes and all my anger morphs to pain. I can tell by the flush on his cheeks, how he refuses to meet my eyes, he hates that I know all this about him. And that’s what hurts the most. I’m the one person in the world he should feel comfortable telling anything to, and yet he still wants to hide.

  “You knew? This whole time?”

  “I found out on your birthday. Colin was drunk and told me. I’m so sorry.” Again I reach for him, but he pulls away.

  He turns his back to me once more. “I’m not a charity case, Shay.”

  “No, that’s not what I…that’s not why…”

  My words fall off a cliff as soon as I see him open up the two drawers of my dresser that I set aside for him. He shoves handfuls of his clothes into his duffle bag on the floor. Then he darts around me to the tiny wall closet. The sound of metal hangers clanking against wood fills our stilted silence. I watch as he emerges with his suitcase and tosses the rest of his clothes and shoes inside.

  “Wes, what are you doing?”

  It’s a pointless question because I already know the answer. I watch in a daze, as if my body is trapped in a time warp with everything around me happening in real-time. All I can do is stand off to the side like a statue and stare.

  It’s not until he zips up his bags and turns to face me that I snap back to life
.

  “Wait.” It comes out more like a gasp than a word. When I blink, tears tumble down my cheeks. I grab him by the wrists and pull him to me. “I know your life was hard growing up, but you don’t have anything to be ashamed about. It made you who you are today, and I love you. Every single thing about you, I love. Yeah, this is rough, but we can make this—us—work.”

  Wes’s stony expression flinches when I say the word “love.” But it’s true. Even though I wish I could have said it in a different setting, when we’re not hurt and angry and on the verge of collapsing, I mean it. I’ve never fallen for anyone this fast, this hard before. I love Wes, and I want to mend this rift between us. I want to make everything better. All I want is him.

  A beat later Wes’s beautiful face is hard again. For endless seconds I wait for the words, for him to tell me he loves me too, that he’ll stay so we can work things out. But all I get is my name on his lips. It’s cold, unfeeling. My chest cracks in half. I never thought that Wes speaking my name could break me.

  “Shay,” he repeats. It’s hard, unrelenting, and not at all like the man I know. “I can’t do this anymore.”

  “What?” My voice is strangled, I’m so shocked by his reply.

  “Marriage, family, kids, huge surprise gatherings with relatives.”

  “Wes, I’m not asking you to marry me or have kids or—”

  “But you want all that. Eventually. Right?”

  I stay silent, stunned at how he’s using this as a reason to leave me. I open my mouth to object, but I can’t. Because Wes is right. I want all of those things. What happened today with my family was an annoying surprise, but it’s part of my life. Deep down, I couldn’t imagine not having kids one day, my own family to bring to one of my mom’s giant surprise gatherings.

  His frown deepens the longer he looks at me. “I know we never talked about it, but…look, I thought I could get on board with family and kids someday, but after today, I don’t think I’ll be able to handle any of that.”

  “You could handle Colin’s family,” I finally say. It’s such a pathetic argument to make, but it’s all I can come up with to try to get him to reconsider.