Tapping out Read online

  Our kiss goes from sweet and gentle to frantic and desperate within seconds. Our tongues entwining with each other. I finally close my eyes and sink into his hold. Just as I think I am getting the hang of this, it stops. Marco’s lips leave mine and he backs up.

  “Shit.” His hands come up to his face, his head shaking in disbelief, and I don’t even know what to say. I would be lying if I said I’ve never imagined what it would be like to be kissed by Marco. I’m a teenage girl, of course I have. But I never imagined it would be so… Wow! This is my first time being kissed and if this is what my first kiss feels like… well, I can’t even imagine it getting any better than that.

  “Shit,” Marco spits out again. His head is tilted to the sky now like he’s praying to the heavens above. He’s breathing like he just ran ten miles and his fists are clenched at his sides like he’s pissed.

  “Umm…” I start to say having no idea what to continue with. What I want to say is “let’s do that again” but something tells me, Marco’s “shit” isn’t a good shit, more like a ‘what the hell was I thinking’ shit.

  “We need to get back,” he says, and without waiting for me he turns around and starts running back to his car. I run after him but unlike every time we have run together, this time Marco doesn’t wait for me.

  “Should we… maybe…talk about this?” I finally ask when I catch up to him outside of his car.

  “Later,” is all he says.

  He hits the key fob unlocking the doors and gets in, and without waiting for me to turn on the music like he always does, he turns it on himself. He turns it up loud, making it clear he doesn’t want to talk. Ok, fine, I think to myself. We will talk later, like he said. It will give me time to process what happened.

  Tomorrow.

  We will talk about this tomorrow.

  Once we have both processed what just happened we will discuss this.

  Three

  Bella

  Roughly four years ago…

  “Bella, are you ready to go?”

  “Yeah, just give me a minute.” I apply a thin coat of clear lip gloss to my lips—just enough to make them shiny—and take one last look at myself in the mirror.

  “Bella, let’s go!” Tristan yells to me from downstairs. Our parents are out tonight for a fundraiser for the rec center and Lilly is staying at Hayley and Caleb’s house along with Tristan’s younger twin sisters, Morgan and Emma. Nathan is spending the night at his friend’s house, and Tristan and I are going to a bonfire at a friend’s house from the gym whose parents are out of town. He lives down the street from Tristan on a bunch of property.

  “Coming!” I grab my hoodie off the back of my chair. It’s February in Nevada which means the weather can change at any time, so while it’s in the seventies right now, the temperature can easily drop where the party is happening. Unlike my neighborhood where houses are no more than a few feet from each other, the houses in Tristan’s neighborhood are all on several acres of land in the outskirts, which makes it the perfect place for bonfire parties.

  I fly down the stairs and I am about to run out the door when Elsa, my dog, comes running toward me, wagging her tail. Bending down, I pet her under her chin just like she likes. My parents bought Elsa for me for Christmas ten years ago. Technically, she’s the family pet but she loves me the most. She follows me around when I’m home and sleeps at the end of my bed every night.

  “Bye Elsa. You be a good dog while I’m gone.” Her tail wags harder hoping I will say something indicating she can go with me.

  “C’mon! When are you getting your car fixed?” Tristan opens the front door for me. I close it behind us and lock it, then follow behind him to his truck. My parents bought me the cutest Volvo SUV for my birthday a couple weeks ago, and of course, my luck, I parked it at the gym and some idiot that wasn’t looking where he was going, hit it! So now, I am carless until it gets fixed.

  “It’s at the body shop now. My dad said it should be done by the end of next week.”

  When we drive up to Brandon’s house, people are already pulling in and parking. “Hey Brandon!” I wave to him and he comes over and gives me a hug.

  “My parents would kill me if anyone goes inside so we need to keep it outside. Can you help me with the drinks?”

  “Of course!” Brandon steers everyone around the side while I go inside to see what he has going on. I find a bunch of drinks and a bag of ice on the counter. After pouring the ice into the cooler, I throw the sodas and waters inside and attempt to pull it out back.

  “Jesus, this is heavy,” I say out loud.

  “Need some help?” I jump at the sound of the deep voice that has ability to make me smile or frown, and turn around.

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, hoping my words come across cold to hide the nervousness I’m feeling.

  “I’m in town visiting my parents. I was at the gym visiting my dad when Tristan and Brandon were discussing the party. Tristan invited me.”

  “Well, it’s about time. You really upset your mom leaving for so long.” I look down at the cooler and add, “I can handle it myself.” Then I silently curse Tristan for inviting Marco even though he doesn’t know what happened last year. I turn back around, grabbing the side handle and lift it up a few inches, willing the heavy ass cooler to drag. Of course, it doesn’t.

  “Here, let me help you.” Marco reaches for the handle, his hand grazing mine, and I pull away, the cooler dropping to the floor with a loud thud.

  Marco’s body is close to mine, too close, so I take a step back and he frowns.

  “Can we talk?”

  “I need to get the food and drinks outside.”

  “OK…later?”

  “Sure, we can have this conversation next year,” I say dryly.

  Marco frowns. “Don’t be like that.”

  “Don’t be like what, Marco?” I ask defensively. “Don’t be like you? Choosing to run away to avoid dealing with shit?”

  “What we did that day… when we…” Marco closes his eyes like he’s in too much pain to even finish the sentence.

  “Kissed.” I finish it for him, hoping I’m making him uncomfortable. “We kissed.”

  “Yeah. It was wrong. You were fifteen years old, Belles. A fucking teenager. I was twenty-one years old. It never should have happened.”

  “Oh, give me a damn break. It was a kiss. And then you ran away like a ball-less jerk to another freaking state!” Marco and I are standing less than a foot apart, my hands are on my hips and his hands are curled into fists by his side. He goes to open his mouth to speak when the back door opens.

  “Everything okay in here?” We avert our eyes toward Tristan, his eyebrows dipped down in confusion. His gaze bounces from me to Marco and back to me again waiting for one of us to answer.

  “Everything’s fine,” I say. “I can’t carry the cooler. I put the ice in it and now it’s too heavy.”

  Tristan studies me for a minute then nods once. “No problem. I’ll grab it.” He takes the cooler and lifts it up, carrying it outside.

  Just as I’m about to follow him out the door, Marco grabs my hand and pulls me down the hallway. When he turns the knob, it’s locked. He goes to the next door and it opens. Tugging me inside the bathroom, he closes the door behind us, caging me in against the door, both hands on either side of me, palms flat against the door.

  “I miss you, Belles.”

  “Could have fooled me.” I tilt my chin up in defiance staring straight at Marco. “I’m pretty sure you moved to a whole other state just to get away from me.” Even I can hear the hurt in my voice so I avoid looking at Marco, trying to calm myself down.

  With one hand, he grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him. “I’m sorry. You are one of my best friends. I freaked out.”

  “You don’t say?”

  Marco smirks at me. “Still a smartass.”

  “What do you want Marco?”

  “I want our friendship back.”

  I sigh an
d shake my head. I want more than that. I want to discuss the kiss and the way it made me feel. I want to kiss him again and see if the butterflies come back. But if all he wants is friendship then it’s clear he didn’t feel what I felt when we kissed, which means I have no choice but to let it go. Sweep it under the rug just like he’s doing. I don’t want to lose our friendship. Marco means too much to me.

  “OK.”

  “OK?” He looks at me incredulously.

  “OK,” I say again. We stand there for a moment and I silently beg him to change his mind, to kiss me, to do something, anything, but instead he simply smiles and backs away from me.

  “Good.” Not good.

  We both leave the bathroom and go out back to join everyone around the bonfire. The speakers are blaring country music and people are already drinking and having a good time. Brandon made it clear, if someone drinks they must give him their keys and spend the night. He has a huge yard, like acres of land, and most people will be pitching tents to spend the night.

  Marco finds a seat around the bonfire and sits down. I can’t be near him right now so I find a few girls from school and join them.

  “Bella!” Joslynn squeals as she gives me a hug. “I saw you walk out with that hottie. Anything going on there?” She waggles her eyebrows and the other girls all giggle. Because Marco is so much older, unless someone goes to the gym we go to, they won’t know him.

  “No, he’s just an old friend.”

  “Would you mind if I go talk to him?” Kimberly asks. An uneasy feeling in my gut washes through me and I feel sick. I want to scream at her and tell her, “Yes, I mind!” but instead I grab a beer from a cooler and say, “Go for it.” Then give her a fake ass smile.

  Four beers later and I am feeling tipsy. The amount of cardio I am going to have to do tomorrow to burn off these wasted calories is going to be ridiculous. This is why I never drink—besides the fact that I’m underage and my parents would kill me if they knew. Having to burn off the calories isn’t worth the few hours of drinking. It makes me sluggish the next day and I feel gross when trying to train.

  But watching Kimberly shamelessly flirt with Marco the last couple hours is enough to make even the biggest saint drink. It’s getting a bit chilly so I walk over closer to the fire. There’s no available seats so I just stand a couple feet from the pit, sipping on my beer.

  “Bella.” I look to see who’s calling my name and spot Marco. He gives me a lazy smile and nods his chin down beckoning me to him. I look around and don’t see Kimberly anywhere near him.

  “Sit with me.” Marco pats his thigh and I eye him suspiciously.

  “Where’s Kimberly?” I ask.

  “Who?” He gives me a confused look.

  “The girl you were talking to for practically the entire night.”

  “Oh… I don’t know.” He shrugs. “Come here.”

  I walk closer to him, and before I can decide whether to stay standing or sit down on the ground next to him, Marco grabs my hips, and making the decision for me, he pulls me down onto his lap.

  “Marco,” I sigh.

  “What?” His lips are right near my face and I can smell the alcohol on his breath mixed with his signature smell of peppermint. I glance around us for Tristan. The last thing I need is him seeing me sitting on Marco’s lap.

  “You’re drunk,” I say to him.

  “So are you. Just sit with me. Your body is cold. I can warm you up.” He turns my body so I am sitting across his lap, and rubs his hands over my arms, eliciting a chill down my spine.

  We sit like this for who knows how long, staring at the fire crackling and drinking our beers. At first my body is stiff up against Marco’s but after a while my body loosens up and I get comfortable in his arms.

  I don’t know if it’s from the alcohol or Marco’s body against mine, but as I cuddle closer to him, my body goes completely lax.

  “Bella, are you awake?” Marco whispers in my ear. I can feel his soft breath against me.

  “Yes.” He shifts my body a little and I feel something hard against me. Holy shit! Is that his…?

  “Do you want me to get off you?” I ask.

  Marco doesn’t answer but instead lifts me up and turns me to face him so I’m straddling him.

  “Marco…” I warn.

  “I just want to see your face.” He gives me a boyish grin and my belly flip-flops. Before I can think of a valid argument—because apparently when you’re drunk your brain works a little slower—his lips are pressing against mine. My head tells me I should pull away and stop him. We have both been drinking, this can’t end well, but my heart and hormones win out and I kiss him back. Hard.

  My tongue enters his mouth and he sighs in contentment. It’s all it takes to make me forget about every reason we shouldn’t be doing this. He tastes like beer and peppermint, and I crave that taste because it’s all Marco. Marco’s hands go to my butt, massaging me and pulling me closer to him. Shamelessly, I begin to grind against him not evening thinking about the fact we are surrounded by dozens of people.

  He must realize where we are because he stands up, still holding on to me. “Wrap your legs around me.”

  I do as he says and he carries me away from the fire. I think he’s going to walk us inside but instead he walks us around to the side of the house. When he gets us to a darker area where the music can barely be heard, he pushes me up against the wall and goes back to kissing me. My hands go to his hair, my fingers running up and down the back of his shaved head, then they go to his neck.

  Marco ends our kiss abruptly only to move his lips downward. He trails soft, wet kisses down the side of my neck and over my collarbone.

  “Bella?” Both our bodies stiffen at my name being called, my eyes shooting open. Standing behind Marco is Mason. Mason is a UFC fighter who Tristan’s dad trains. Over the last year Tristan and I have started to hang out with him more often, especially since he lives with Tristan. Nobody really knows the entire story, but when Mason showed up here asking to be trained, Ashley found out he was homeless and without any family. She insisted he move in with them and he and Tristan share a room.

  Marco’s eyes snap to mine, quickly sobering up. He drops his hands from my butt, my body sliding down the wall. I come close to not landing on my feet but Marco reacts quickly and catches me, making sure I’m steady before he lets go of me and turns around to face Mason.

  “Marco?” Mason looks confused. “Sorry… I didn’t mean to interrupt. I saw Bella and…”

  “No, it’s cool man.” Marco’s body is straight as a board.

  “I’m just going to….” Mason tilts his head toward where the party is still going on, then he starts to walk away.

  “Wait, Mason.” Marco calls out and Mason turns around. “Can you do me a favor? Can you not say anything to—”

  “Say no more.” Mason cuts him off, nodding in agreement before walking away. Marco stands with his back to me for several long seconds, and when he finally speaks, he doesn’t even look at me.

  “This shouldn’t have happened.”

  “Are you freaking serious right now?” I yell louder than I mean to causing Marco to turn around.

  “We have both been drinking. Things got out of hand.”

  “Nothing even happened.”

  “Which is for the best. I need to go.”

  “Of course, walk away… that’s what you do best.”

  “I didn’t mean for this to happen. I missed you. I just wanted my best friend back. And there you were, looking like you always do.” He nods toward me. “And Damn it, Belles, I couldn’t help myself. This is why I moved!” Marco yells, his arms flaring out. “I knew if I stayed here, I wouldn’t be able to resist you. Fuck!” He turns and punches the thing closest to him, a ceramic potted planter. It shatters everywhere. He gives me one last look before he walks away, once again.

  Four

  Bella

  Two years ago…

  I can’t believe after two years of avo
iding home, he picks now to show up. It’s like he does this shit on purpose to torment me. He should have stayed away. He should have stayed in California where he lives and given me the five more months I thought I had to come to terms with the fact that I will be living less than thirty minutes from him.

  But no, Marco just had to grace everyone with his presence. I mean, sure, I can’t really fault him. His dad did fly over to San Diego and practically drag him back here to join them on our yearly traditional Christmas trip to Breckenridge Ski Resort. But would it have killed him to shoot me a text and give me some warning so I wouldn’t have to find out in the middle of the mall food court in front of his mom, Tristan, and Mason!?

  I know at some point I am going to have to deal with all this. I am moving to San Diego to attend the University of California after all. It’s true, it’s a big city but there’s only one UFC training facility, which means we will be training in the same building. I know it’s my choice to move there. I know the potential situation I am putting myself into. Don’t ask me why I’m doing this to myself. Does a part of me miss Marco? Of course. Do I sometimes hope by moving there we will rekindle our friendship? Sure. Do I secretly wish that maybe one day we could be something more? Yeah, I do.

  But at the same time, I think I want to move there just to stick it to him. Because fuck him for running away from me!

  You know what? I don’t even know why I am so stressed over all this. I’m not the one who ran away. Twice! I’m not the one who started shit I couldn’t finish. Screw him! He’s the one who should feel uncomfortable, not me!

  It’s Christmas eve and somehow, I have managed to avoid Marco for the most part, aside from the two-hundred-dollar bet I lost on the slopes when I said I could outboard him… and lost… twice. It hasn’t been easy since we are staying on the same property, but luckily, he is sleeping out in the guesthouse of my Uncle Bentley’s parents’ cabin. I’ve been spending a lot of time reading at the resort, snowboarding, and taking walks. Pretty much doing anything to avoid coming face to face with Marco. Which makes me so mad because I don’t have any reason to avoid him. I didn’t do anything wrong. He did! He chose to walk away, leaving our friendship in limbo over a couple of damn kisses.