Smoke

CHAPTER 17

I've never met someone who can quiet my mind the way this man does. His presence, his touch, his lips on mine - they replace all of the worry and anxiety that consume me on a daily basis. It's just...quiet. The only thing I can think about is how much I want him. How much I need him. And I need more.

If this were anyone else, I would be in full blown panic mode and running for the hills. The way I feel about him terrifies me to the core, but the fear begins stirring something else inside of me as well. Excitement maybe? I have never craved another human this way - filling me with a thrilling, ravenous voracity to this kind of capacity. Intimacy has never been my strong suit, but Dawson...he's nothing like anything I have ever known. He's so much f*****g more.

His arms snake around me in a fiery frenzy. Almost as if he is trying to mold us into one single being. And f**k, it feels as though we are. His hands travel down to cup my ass, lifting me up, as my legs instinctively wrap around his waist. His lips never leaving mine. He hastily moves us across the balcony, removing one hand from his hold on me with ease to open the glass door, and flings it open; resulting in a loud bang and a sickening crack, as it smacks against the brick wall.

I break away briefly to assess the new damage in the window while shaking my head to laugh. I don't even give a s**t! I reach over and slam the bastard shut, and meet his lips with mine once more as he carries me over to the couch, gently lowering us down to where both of my legs are straddling him on each side of his waist.

Dawson's right hand glides its way up the back of my neck and he snakes his fingers through my hair, tugging gently to tilt my head back to give him better access to my neck. His lips meet the sensitive flesh below my ear as he nibbles and sucks lightly, before he begins to trail hungry kisses lower, becoming more feverish with hunger the farther he goes. I rest both of my hands on his chest to steady myself, as I am racked by the need of his hands on my body. I begin grinding my core against his rock hard member, resenting the clothing separating us. I rake my hands town his torso, feeling, memorizing every ripple of his muscles as they flex under my touch.

His left hand squeezes my waist tighter in anticipation, as I slip mine under his shirt, breaking the barrier. The feel of his warm flesh under my touch sends a jolt of electricity through me. My hands move lower, descending towards the hem of his jeans. I decide to tease him a bit, leaving my fingertips to linger and trace along his lower abdomen, as I lean in and lightly trail my tongue up the side of his neck, nipping the base of his ear in the process. This causes a deep groan to fall from his lips, vibrating against my flesh, successfully shooting chills across my body.

His hands begin to venture to the bottom of my shirt, slipping under and guides them slowly up my waist, and settling on my breasts; squeezing and kneading them lustfully. Just as his fingers move to my back to unclasp my bra, we are interrupted by three loud knocks on my front door.

Dawson lets out a frustrated growl as my forehead slams onto his shoulder in frustration.

"You have got to be f*****g kidding me," I groan, rolling my eyes as I hoist myself off of Dawson's lap, getting to my feet.

"Just ignore it. They'll go away eventually." He grips my hand so that I can't walk away. He then reaches up and places his free hand on the back of my neck to pull me down into another kiss. It is light and sweet and it makes my heart flutter in retaliation.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

"f**k. Hold on I'm coming!" I yell to the door, hoping the banging will cease to exist.

Dawson laughs at my irritation and releases my hand that was still captured in his. "And just when it was getting f*****g good."

I shoot him a look, telling him to behave as I make my way over to the door. I grip the antique brass knob as I take a deep breath in attempt to collect myself. I open the door and my eyes grow wide.

"Graham! What are you doing here?" I peek back at Dawson who is instantly on his feet, with an annoyed look plastered on his face.

"I came to check up on you to see how you're doing," he says as he peers through the entryway, spotting the man of the hour, who just so happens to be glaring daggers back at him. "Uh-I...I hope I'm not interrupting. I just haven't had the chance to stop by with work and classes."

I give him a genuine smile, remembering he has been picking up my shifts, as well as his. "It's no problem. I really appreciate you helping me out this week."

"Don't worry about it," he pauses momentarily. "Um...can I come in?"

"Oh right! Sorry," I laugh, embarrassed at my rudeness. I step aside to open the door wider for him to enter. "Come in."

"Thanks." He lifts a large brown bag before saying, "I brought you some comfort food and some flowers. I wasn't sure what you eat so I picked out a few things from the Chinese place down the street." He walks over to the kitchen and sets down the bag as he begins removing the contents and places them in a row on top of the counter.

"I do not discriminate against food. I eat absolutely any and everything...except mushrooms. And that's only because they try to kill me when I do," I chuckle, taking the bouquet of lilies from him and filling up a vase with some water. 

I lean down momentarily to inhale the fragrance being emitted from the beautiful flowers. Lilies are my favorite. I walk over to place them on the end table next to the couch, and then look up towards Dawson. 

I straighten myself upright. He is quiet, staring down Graham like a lion would its prey. I reach up to squeeze his forearm lightly in hopes of calming the gorgeous, brooding man standing before me. He looks down, his eyes meeting mine, before a small, uncomfortable smile forms on his lips, and gives me a slight nod.

Graham snorts, "What the hell did you do to piss off the mushrooms?" His humor cuts through the room, thankfully easing some of the tension.

"Well I had one wild night, and then the entire fungi species turned against me after that. I think they were telling me that I needed to get my s**t together," I joke, earning laughs from both of the men in my apartment.

"Now that's a story I can't wait to hear about," Dawson chimes in.

"I bet you would," I say with a wink. He smirks back in response, smacking my ass as he closes the gap between us.

"Well luckily nothing I brought you has shrooms so I think you're safe." Graham opens each of the five containers, and I can't help but shove my nose into each of them, taking a big whiff in order to decide on which one I want to eat.

It came down to the egg drop soup and the orange chicken, but I couldn't make up my mind. So, instead of only choosing one, I snag both with my greedy little fingers and settle on the barstool that is positioned on the other side of the counter to dig in.

Dawson makes his way over, and cozies in next to me, draping his arm over my shoulders. He smirks down at me before snagging a piece of chicken from my container and popping it in his mouth. A victorious expression written all over his face.

"That is the quickest way to get stabbed, my friend. I've done it before. I'll do it again." I lean back to look at him dead on, and point two of my fingers at my eyes and then motion my index finger back, pointing to him, "I'm watching you punk."

His eyebrows raise skeptically, "Friend, huh?"

"That's all you got from the threat I just made?" I laugh, glancing over at Graham, who I can see shifting out of the corner of my eye. A look flickers over his face ever so quickly, that I almost missed it.

 Was that disappointment? Nah! It can't be.

He starts looking back and forth between Dawson and me with a now deadpanned expression. His fingers flick between the both of us and asks, "So are you two like a thing or something?"

I froze, not really sure what to say, but just as Dawson is about to speak up, a possessive look flickering over his face - I interrupt him. 

"I'm not really into labels," I blurt out quickly. 

We haven't talked about exclusivity yet. I have honestly been avoiding that conversation. I told him I would give him a chance to prove himself, but that doesn't mean that we are "official." However, according to the look on his face, he is not pleased by my answer. And according to Graham's face, he noticed the silent conversation Dawson was trying to have with me, but I choose to divert my gaze down to my food instead. I am just grateful he doesn't try to argue with me, especially in front of my co-worker. I don't need that kind of drama right now in my life.

A deafening silence floats between the three of us, while I awkwardly stuff my face, avoiding eye contact with the both of them. I can feel their stares burning into me, but I don't have any desire to acknowledge either at this very moment.

Graham is the first to break the silence by clearing his throat, "Well, I have to head to work. I'll text you later to check in."

I nod slowly, barely hearing him, but somehow muster up a response. "Thank you so much for stopping by and bringing the food and flowers. It really means a lot." I stand to walk him out. 

As we reach the door, he turns back to face me, and leans down to give me a gentle hug - one in which I happily return. Somehow though, I feel like as soon as I let go and he leaves, that I'm going to have to face a displeased Dawson. So, I hold on a little longer in avoidance. 

I'm mature. I know.

Graham is the first to break the contact and gives me one of his pearly white, award winning smiles. "When are you coming back to work?"

"I resume my classes on Monday and will then be back in the shop Wednesday."

"I will see you Wednesday then." He steps out of the apartment and gives me a small wave, saying, "I hope you feel better Austyn."

I lean against the door frame, returning his wave. "I'll do my best." 

With that, he turns to leave and I close the door ever so slowly behind him, before turning around to face Dawson. I let out a long, drawn out breath as I make my way over to him. His brows are pulled together, arms crossed over his chest, while he leans against the countertop. 

"I don't like him," he says bluntly.

"What? Why?"

"He likes you."

It's my turn to be confused, and look at him skeptically. "Huh? No he doesn't. He's just being nice. And besides, he's my co-worker."

Dawson scoffs, "You're oblivious aren't you?"

I take a step back, mimicking his stance by crossing my arms as well. "Excuse me?"

"I'm serious Austyn. You're gorgeous and guys basically fall all over you and you don't even see it."

"What guys?" I ask bewildered, coming out louder than I had intended, but at this point I'm getting a little irked. He takes a step towards me, but I just take another step back, which causes his already growing irritation with me to rise.

"Oh, I don't know...Me. Luca. Graham. Guys at the bar. Hell, even my brother is infatuated with you. And you can't even see it."

"First off, Luca saved me from being r***d, so you better just stop there while you have the chance. Secondly, Graham also saved me from said r****t and is also my friend. I am allowed to have those. Thirdly, you and the r****t are the only guys I've met while in or just outside of a bar. And fourthly...your brother what?"

"I don't know if you're just naïve or if you're just evading the obvious to avoid facing the truth. Or even worse, you do know they like you and you are just too afraid to admit it to yourself because that would mean endangering your precious secrets if you accidentally get too close to them."

At this point, I'm mad. My mom always told me that when I get angry, I start smiling. Like I was excited to knock someone out, or down a few pegs, or that I was getting ready to blow up their entire f*****g universe. Usually, when my anger gets to this point, it's because Rachel takes the wheel and I disappear. I had never noticed before because I was so in the moment and completely consumed in rage, but this time is different. I am hyper aware when that smile appears on my face, warning me that s**t is about to get real. So, right now I have to decide; control my anger, or let it control me. 

I decide to go with the former, but that doesn't mean I won't give him a piece of my mind in the meantime. I just don't want him to see a side of me yet that I can't control. Rachel is my protector. She is my shield, and my sword. But she's also a part of me that I don't want him to know about until I'm ready, and right now is clearly not the time.

"Are you going to just ignore me now?" His question snaps me out of my internal debate.

"You are being an ignorant ass right now. You don't know as much as you think you do, or claim to have seen in me. You say you want to prove yourself to me, but then you go and insult me because you're jealous. Real nice Dawson."

"I don't know anything because you f*****g refuse to tell me any ounce of information that will remotely reveal anything real about who you are. You said you were going to give me a chance but you dodge every question by only giving me run around, austere answers, steering clear of actually telling me something personal," his voice slightly raises, not even bothering to hide his frustration anymore.

"Did you not listen to anything I told you outside? It wasn't even two f*****g hours ago!" Okay, now I'm shouting. This isn't going anywhere. "You know what...this is why I don't get close to people. This is why I don't date. I refuse to let you make me feel bad over problems that are your own. Why would I bother telling you anything when you get shitty about guys f*****g looking at me? It's childish Dawson. And I don't have time for it," the last part came out as a whisper, my voice betraying the utter mental exhaustion that is washing over me in massive waves. 

It feels as though I've been sucked into an undertow and can't breathe. All of the energy I previously had to fight, is long lost. I am just so so tired of fighting. The only person I need to be fighting for is my damn self.

That seems to get Dawson's attention because his face instantly softens. "Austyn...I-"

I hold up my hand, cutting him off. I honestly do not have it in me to listen to any more bullshit right now. I just really want to be alone, take a damn bubble bath, read a book and go the f**k to bed. 

"Dawson, I think you should go."

He reaches out to grab my hand, but I pull away before he has the chance. If I let him touch me, I will cave. I know I will. I know myself, and I can't handle complicated in my life after everything I just ran away from back home.

"Please...just go. Please," I beg, pleading him with desperation swelling in my eyes.

He purses his lips and his jaw clenches up, sharpening every feature in his face. After staring at me a few more moments, he gives me a curt nod, turns around on his heels, and walks right out the door without another word.