"f.u.c.k, baby," he groaned, unable to control his volume. My body jolted as he stilled and then whipped back, pulling his c.o.c.k out and having no choice but to c.u.m on top of the gra.s.s. On me, it would have left a mess, but inside me would have caused true chaos.

I was grateful.

My mind swirled into a daze. The sky seemed to spin above, the line of trees staring down at me. Mocking me with their leaves flapping in the wind, shaking like they were almost laughing. I felt embarra.s.sed, but then Theo looked at me and I felt like a G.o.ddess.

I couldn't believe it'd happened again.

A second time.

How the f.u.c.k did I let it happen so easily this time?

Theo sighed, pulling out and standing, yanking his shorts up. He looked down at me, and a flash of pain crossed his face. I sat up, pulling my pants up as well. We were quiet for a moment, adjusting ourselves. I felt warmth oozing between my legs, and something sparked within me. I ached, longing for him to take me all over again.

His lips parted, and I expected positive words, but I'd deliberately received the opposite. "We... we shouldn't do this anymore, Chloe." He ran his hands over his face. "f.u.c.k-I... I don't even know how we keep getting here. I was wrong. So f.u.c.king wrong."

My eyes became hot, thick with unshed tears. Only moments ago he asked me if I wanted him to stop. He was confusing me. I didn't get him. What was it that he wanted from me?

"You're so young," he went on. "So inexperienced and so innocent. I can't keep taking that from you." He looked away, guilt-ridden, and then focused on me again, awaiting a response.

I stood, looking him deep in the eyes for a brief, intense moment. I saw the confusion. The trouble I was causing his emotions. My heart snagged. My head dropped. I walked around him, hugging myself as I rushed through the line of trees he'd dragged me through only minutes ago. I left out of the park in a hurry, jogging back home, biting back on emotion. Fortunately, I won. No tears on the way there.

Theo was nowhere in sight as I entered my house. I figured he meant it this time. And it was good because he was right. We couldn't do this anymore. It wasn't okay. We both were doing it for very bad reasons.

While I was showering the scent of him away, allowing it to seep down the drain, he must have made his way back home. His bedroom light was on. I peeked through the curtain, expecting him to be in his garage or even inside the house, but instead he was on the porch, looking right at my bedroom window.

I gasped, taking a step back, but I could still see him. I was sure he knew I was still watching.

He had a beer in hand. His lips were pressed thin, eyes full of regret and curiosity. I bet he was wondering the same thing I was. Why did we feel so good together? How in the h.e.l.l did we let it happen twice? Why couldn't we deny this l.u.s.t? What was it that made us get so lost in each other that we completely forgot just who we were? The wrongs and rights? The pain and suffering? The f.u.c.king age difference? f.u.c.king Izzy?

It was confusing... and so very hard to fight.

Perhaps it was the thrill...

Or maybe it was the off-limits thing? Human beings loved taking advantage of what they knew they couldn't have.

Maybe he did it because he hadn't had any in a while and I just did it because-well, because I'd had a crush on Mr. Black for many, many years. I dreamt about him. Thought about him almost every single day without even realizing it before.

Maybe it was because, deep down, we'd wanted each other. We had a connection-an undeniable one. I could read him, and he liked that. He didn't have to speak, didn't have to tell me what was wrong, because I already knew.

His pain? I wanted to be the one to take that away.

His conflictions? I wanted to be the one to settle them.

But I was only dreaming. I had to stop. Dreaming never got me anywhere before. Why would it now?

Knowing this, I moved away from the curtain, stepping back slowly, and looked into the mirror of my vanity. I was sure someone could have spotted the hickey he left on my neck from a mile away.

I tried covering the shame with my hands, but I quickly moved them away. Seeing the mark made me tingle below, my core clenching. Running my fingertip across my lip, I imagined him kissing me again.

Holding.

Smoldering.

Looking me deep in the eyes.

His kiss. His touch.

His smell.

Him.

I didn't get it. How could I want more? How could I do this to myself, knowing it would result to nothing?

Why did I care?

Why did it feel so incredible, but oh so painful?

How was I supposed to forget about my first time with a man that wasn't even supposed to take it?

Why did it seem my morals went flying out the window whenever he made an appearance? I was a good girl. I'd always been a good girl, but he'd brought the dark little Chloe Knight right out of me.

s.h.i.t. Why couldn't I just forget about Theodore Black?

Two days later, my car was packed up, my keys clutched in hand. "I'm sorry we can't drive you there, sweetie," Mom said, adjusting her skirt. "I know how big this is for you."

"Don't worry about it. Dad needs you in San Fran. You know he can't do it all by himself." She rolled her eyes and I sighed, deciding to quickly change the subject. I didn't even want to get her started on the man that she now thought was soo annoying. "I'm excited about USC. It'll be fun. A great experience."

"Well, I'd hope so with how much money we're paying for tuition." She laughed with an edge of sarcasm, tucking her curly brown hair behind her ear. "Just be safe." A kiss on my cheek. "Call me as soon as you make it there."

I nodded, rounding the car. "I will. Love you, Mom."

"Love you too, sweetie."

I jumped in the car and started it. I hated that Dad wasn't here, but when work called, he always went running. Even while being retired, it seemed he worked more now than ever before. He wasn't getting paid to be one of the greatest accountants in Cali, but people loved him and he wasn't dead yet, so they were going to use him up until he was a no-good, withered-up, forgetful man. I couldn't blame him. He wanted the best for us, especially me. If there was one thing I knew about my Dad, it was that he feared going broke. He was without money before, unable to provide for himself before he got to college and received inheritance from my greedy grandfather.

It sucked he couldn't even see his own daughter off to college, but he did keep his promise about coming to graduation. And he showed up on time, and even found me afterwards to fly me in a private jet and spend a night in San Francisco.

I shrugged it off and started to wave at Mom again, but her phone was now in her hand and soon to her ear. She talked quickly as she turned her back to me, entering the house several seconds later.

I sat in the driveway for a while, eyes damp, my heart slowly drumming in my chest. Whatever. It was seriously whatever. Finally fed up with being put last, I rapidly blinked the tears away and drew in a deep breath. I connected my Bluetooth to the car because I needed music. Lots of it if I was going to make it through the drive. Alone.

I pulled out of the driveway, silently telling my home goodbye. Putting the car in drive, I allowed my foot to hover above the gas just as I so happened to look to my right.

Standing in the garage with a wrench in hand was Mr. Black. His nostrils were flared, lips pinched tight with his gaze pointed right at me. I a.s.sumed he was thinking negative things. Not even a goodbye? Farewell? See you soon?

A wave of dread pa.s.sed through me as I watched his lonely eyes. I wanted to jump out and hug him-tell him so many kind things-but I didn't. Theo needed to know that we would never be the same-that I would soon be over him once I was in college.

I wasn't planning on coming back home anytime soon. It was like coming back to nothing. My parents always acted too busy for me, my best friend was miles away, and her father was just across the street, normally strutting with a tank top or no shirt on at all. I was weak for that man, the sight of him making me wetter than a river. If I had stayed, I would have been his for sure. In a way, he owned me, but if I left, it wouldn't be that way.

I needed escape. I needed a fresh start. I needed someone my age. Someone new. Let's just say Primrose was not the place to be, so instead of lingering, I drove off just as he was coming down the driveway to try and speak to me. I purposely broke our connected line of sight and hurried out of the neighborhood, away from Primrose, my parents, and Theodore Black.

As soon as I was out of the neighborhood, a thousand weights lifted off my shoulders... off my chest. I could breathe. I could fly. I felt momentarily free.

But, I admit, I was going to miss them. My parents. The neighborhood and all the b.i.t.c.hy, self-worshipping occupants-them, because they showed me that I actually had some good within me. And him...

Man, especially him.

FIVE.

What did I expect?

For her to get out, kiss and then hug me goodbye? I knew she was leaving, off to college. I hurt her, told her straight to her face that we couldn't be. It f.u.c.king twisted me up inside watching her run out of the park as if I'd broken what was left of her heart-demolished every trace of feeling she ever had for me.

She remained in the middle of the road, her eyes locked with mine, glued for a while. I had the urge to go, to make a move, and beg her forgiveness.

But she pulled off.

My heart felt like it'd been ripped in two, but it wasn't a brokenness that I felt. My heart had been torn apart and flushed away for many months. I was simply devastated. With her gone, I'd have no one to look after me, no one to look forward to seeing. No one to talk to... no one to f.u.c.king understand me.

Alone. That's what I would be. The thought of it terrified me. That night, several hours after I settled with the idea that she was most likely gone for good, I got drunk again. Why? Because I didn't want to be alone, and if getting drunk until I felt numb could help, then so be it.

I faded away in my garage but left the gate open. That small ray of hope that always kept its place in the back of my mind thought she'd show up again, help me upstairs, and give me a chance to apologize. Ha. I was only fooling myself.

She wasn't coming back. She was moving on, something I couldn't make happen just yet. It was all in my drunken mind, hoping she'd return. She knew better. She knew it the moment she pulled out of Primrose.

She was gone, and it would have been foolish of her to come back and give it all up for someone like me.

SIX.

Three Years Later 22 Years Old USC was a dream-more like a fast-paced, colorful blur.

After two years, I had only been home once. That one time was because Izzy wanted to visit her mother's grave. Afterwards, we took off, catching waves at the welcoming beach of Ventura. Luckily, Mr. Black didn't show up during that one visit. I was scotch-free, glad I didn't have to face him.

During my time away, I'd gotten really close with my roommate, Mariah. She could be nice, but she was a huge party animal. At first I didn't like her. She came off a bit stuck up and selfish, but after getting to know her, I settled with the understanding that she only seemed that way because she kept it real.

She was genuine and honest, and she didn't sugarcoat a d.a.m.n thing. Unlike Izzy, where she'd make up excuses about a certain dress I bought, beating around the bush about its fit, Mariah would tell me straight to my face that the dress I wore wasn't a good color on me. Or a good fit-whatever it just so happened to be.

I didn't like it at first. I had a weird taste in fashion, so I a.s.sumed she didn't grasp where I was coming from whenever I wore certain things, but after a while, it came in handy.

During freshman year, I hardly partied. I went to one party, and it was the lamest thing I'd ever attended. Because of it, I vowed never to go to another. I was only fooling myself.

Soph.o.m.ore year was fantastic. That's when Mariah and I became closer. She took me to the real parties where even the smartest of students, like myself, got wild and let loose. I was afraid of becoming that, but I had to live. Start fresh. This was the best way to start. No regrets. Just fun.

I never got too wasted to the point where I'd vomit over the staircase or balcony of a frat house like some of the girls did. I only got drunk enough to where I felt good-enough to the point where I was able to still control my actions but wouldn't dare set foot behind the wheel of a car.

During my college life, I did my best to forget about the small things, but of course those "small" things happened to cross my mind every single f.u.c.king day. Those "small" things were the reason I'd rushed to a clinic to get birth control as soon as I was settled in my dorm room on the first day. He'd made me a woman, and with that came responsibility. I hated the shot, but I also knew I wouldn't keep up with the pills. Whatever was best, right?

In cla.s.s, when my psychology professor would drone on about brain waves and REM, I thought of Theo. I couldn't help myself. I doodled pictures of the tattoos I could remember and even wrote short stories full of fantasy s.h.i.t that he would never say in person.

I wondered every day if he was okay, and at one point, I had even considered calling to check on him. But I knew better. Plus, Izzy's daily phone call to me would prove he was. There was never a call where she wouldn't mention her hot-as-sin father.

She told me lots of times he was unhappy. Still hurting... but also that he had a girl toy on his arms only four months after I left. The girl toy part made me jealous. I wished then that he had a Facebook or Twitter so I could see her face, but I forgot he was a forty year old man. He didn't need social media-didn't thrive on it like leaches or check it first thing in the morning like it was the newspaper as we did.

I wondered if she was blonde or brunette. If her body was better than mine? If her b.u.t.t was bigger? What color her eyes were? Or if he had a nickname created just for her... like he did for me?

I'd contemplated calling him so many times. Izzy would never know, and we'd vowed to keep whatever happened years ago between us. Ugh. Jealousy was an ugly trait, and I hated that I even carried it.

For a while, I was upset that I left without saying goodbye-leaving us open-ended-that is until the party at the beach happened. Everyone had just finished finals. Mariah and I were looking for something to do to pa.s.s time before our summer break started, so we took up the invitation.

That night, through heavy drinking and slurred sentences, I met Axel. Axel was exactly how he sounded. A jock. A c.o.c.ky son of a b.i.t.c.h. Built with a wavy buzz cut and smooth chocolate skin, almost like my father's. He was handsome and, sadly, a football player.

There was just something about football players that lured me in but turned me off all at once. Like an idiot, I invited Axel to come spend summer break with us while highly intoxicated. I wished I hadn't. I had to share my bed with him, sleep with him. Talk to him. He had a terrible vocabulary. It was obvious he'd only gotten into USC because he had an athletic scholarship. And I only said yes because he had a nice body and a pretty smile.

When he spoke, I wanted to gag.

When he flexed his muscles, kissing his biceps, I wanted to spit up in my mouth.

When he didn't speak, though, he was a gorgeous being. Far from smart, but I dealt with him because there were times when my needs got the best of me. I was desperate, but not even the c.o.c.ky, arrogant Axel could fulfill them.

I knew who I needed.

Who I wanted.

And exactly how I wanted it.

But that was a no-no. It would never happen again, especially now. I was sure he realized he'd made a mistake with me. It'd been two and a half years. He'd obviously let go if he had a new girl around.

Other than constantly thinking about Theo, the college life was great. But the third year happened to be the worst.

Due to all of his working out of retirement, my father became too old and too sick. He almost worked himself to death.

Mom... f.u.c.king Mom. She hired a caregiver to watch and help Dad while she spent her many days and nights traveling the world. And not only that, she had a boyfriend. A f.u.c.king boyfriend! How was that even okay if she was still married?

I was angry at her, mainly because she was the one that was supposed to be by his side, caring for him, providing, loving, but I knew Mom had given up on her marriage a long time ago. It was clear she was only around for the money. Don't get me wrong, she honestly loved my father at one point. I saw it, bright as day. And she also loved me with her whole heart, but when it came to herself, that's who she loved most.

So, instead of spending my summer with friends, I drove home to spend it with my father. He was already in the early stages of Alzheimer's while I was in school. The disease was the very reason he felt it was time to retire. He didn't want to be the blame for forgetting something-messing up numbers.