Rachel Dyken - Toxic

My fingers glided effortlessly over the piano as I imagined his mouth — the way he smiled, the way he took his lower lip hostage when he was deep in thought. The dark look he got in his eyes when there was something he wanted. Our kiss would be epic.

The music picked up speed as I leaned over the piano, pounding each note with the rhythm of my footsteps as I approached him.

His hands would reach for my hips as he pulled me closer. My hands hovered over the keys making my hesitation known.

And then I pressed softly against the ivory, leaning forward as if I was leaning into Gabe with my body pressed against his. My breasts brushed the keys. I moved closer to the piano and then slowed the music.

His eyes would close.

His lips would part.

And we’d meet in the middle — because both of us wanted the same thing. Both of us wanted to taste, to explore, to feel.

I slowed my left hand as my right hand moved quicker across the keys, to show the anticipation.

And then, our mouths would touch.

I pounded the keys with my left hand, making it the loudest part of the piece which wasn’t normally how it was done.

Our tongues would tangle.

I pounded the piano harder.

His fingers would dig into my arms as he lifted me into the air.

I pulled back from the piano, stopping the music, and then gently started the rhythmic cadence again.

Our kiss was the perfect joining of music.

He was the left hand, I was the right.

Separate they sounded like silly scales.

Together — they were beautiful.

When I stopped the piece, I was sweating.

“Open your eyes,” Gabe whispered.

He was breathing so heavily it looked like he’d just run a marathon. With a smile he tucked my fallen hair behind my ear and tilted my chin toward him.

“That…” He leaned in. “…is how you perform. Like every kiss is both your first and last — like you’re saying both hello and goodbye — like you’ve just been born… like you’ve just died.”

In all my years living — I’d never experienced such a powerful kiss. The force in which our mouths met, our bodies fused, was electrifying — and we hadn’t even touched. How’s that for insanity? —Gabe H.

Gabe

I was going to kiss her.

I don’t know what the hell I’d been thinking to give advice like that, especially considering I knew I was already attracted to her and we were locked in a small confined space. Bad enough that the music was adding to her intoxicating scent. Worse — that in order to live I kind of had to breathe.

So I greedily sucked in every inch of air — praying that it would be permeated with her — I wanted to taste her that bad.

But each greedy inhale — left me parched.

My gaze lowered to her lips — and stayed there.

The bench made a cracking nose as she moved forward. An inch closer and our mouths would be touching.

I hadn’t kissed a girl out of pure savage need.

In four years.

A small sigh escaped her mouth as I moved my hands to the side of her face and pressed a tender kiss right on the corner where her lips met.

Another sigh.

Another kiss on the opposite corner.

She clenched my wrists with her hands.

Next, our mouths collided.

Notes fused together.

I flattened my hands against hers then interlocked our fingers, slowly pulling her up from the piano bench and walking her backward toward the wall.

Her soft tongue pushed against my lips. When I opened my mouth, everything about Saylor became my identity as her scent and warmth swallowed me whole.

She moved her hands to my shoulders and then gave my long hair a little tug.

Of course she’d have no idea that hair pulling was my Achilles heel — but it was almost worse than that.

Because it turned off my need to be safe with her.

And made me want to give her everything.

My phone started buzzing in my pocket.

Not now. Anytime but now.

Her body was pressed too tight against me, the kiss more urgent then before. My phone kept buzzing as if reminding me that my time wasn’t my own — not anymore.

I broke off the kiss. “I’m sorry.” I fumbled with my phone and glanced at her swollen lips. “Damn sorry.” I shook my head and cursed all phones to hell. “But I have to take this.”

Without offering any other explanation, I answered.

“Oh Gabe, good.” Martha let out a shaky breath, “I was hoping you’d answer. Listen. There’s been a situation. A man came by—”

“What did he look like?” And just like that, reality hit me smack in the face. I still couldn’t have a normal life. An innocent girl like Saylor? Not my reality. No matter how bad I wanted it.

“He had really light brown hair and blue eyes.” Martha cleared her throat. “He asked for you by your real name.”

“Parker?” I asked.

She was silent and then said quietly, “No, your other name.”

“Shit.”

I heard Martha fumble with the phone a bit. “Not to worry. I set him to rights, but he wasn’t just looking for you. He asked for her.”

“By name?” God, I hoped… I prayed.

“Her full legal name.”

Guilt assaulted me. While I was here playing passionate music lover with Saylor, someone could have taken my world from me while simultaneously exposing every last private detail to the media.

“Do you need me to come?”

“No.” Martha let out the mother of all heavy sighs. “Just come on your normal day, and I’ll let you know if we see him again. He may still be hanging around, so just—be careful. And, Gabe?”

“Yeah?” My voice was hollow.

“Do you know who he is?”

“My dad.” I licked my lips. “And he’s finally figured it out.”

I ended the call and made my way toward the door. She’d heard me say something about my dad, but I knew I’d been far enough away that she didn’t hear anything that Martha had said. My secrets remained safe. For now.

“Is everything okay?” Saylor asked.

I couldn’t even look at her — didn’t want to see the disappointment in her face when I rejected her.

“Sure, um, look I have to go take care of something. Why don’t you keep practicing a bit longer and I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Gabe…”

“Yeah?” I had the door halfway open. So close.

“Why won’t you look at me?”

Steeling my resolve, I forced a happy go lucky smile and turned, giving her a sly wink. “Sorry, just lost in thoughts, you should probably practice another hour or so. No worries, everything’s fine.”

Her eyes scanned my face. “Is telling the truth so hard, Gabe?”

My smile fell. “You have no idea.”

I pulled the door shut behind me and made my way down the hall. It was time to ask for Wes’s help — because someone in my family had finally told my dad about Princess.

Meaning. My time — really was up.

I took time to memorize the way the building smelled — I’d miss it. The way the architecture of UW was old yet managed to still feel new and exciting.

The salty smell of the ocean.

The mist hanging in the air.

My past had caught up to me — and I had to run.

For both our sakes.

I wondered if there would ever come a day when Gabe would finally be free enough to be himself — the person he was born to be, not mask number one or smile number two. I wondered if he even knew how lost he really was — or if he was happy making the maze his home, the mask his identity, his life a lie. —Saylor

Saylor

“So, how are things going for you at the Home?” Lisa asked, taking a large bite out of her pizza and smacking her lips together. We’d been working at the Home for well over three weeks. “I’ve been doing some really cool art projects with everyone, but other than that it’s been pretty uneventful.” Lisa sighed heavily and took another large bite out of her pizza.

Just with her mention of the Home — my body went hot all over, because I associated the Home with Gabe, and when I thought of Gabe, I thought of kissing.

It had been two days since my kiss with Gabe.

And yes, I was counting. Because that was also two days during which I hadn’t heard one word from him. It wasn’t like I could go to the Home and see if he was there; that’s something called stalking and it’s illegal. I even thought about lying and saying I left my cell phone, but with my luck he’d see right through it and know just how pathetic I really was.

And how much I wanted him to kiss me again.

I wasn’t sure if that’s how it would always be with Gabe. Either we were arguing or kissing. Regardless, I recognized something. Being with Gabe was like going to a zoo and watching the lions stalk in front of the windows of their cage. Give them their freedom and they’ll devour you, but as long as they keep themselves contained — keep everything in check — they’re safe.

Gabe was only as safe as he allowed himself to be.

And that was both alarming and enticing all at once.

Then again, scary things always were. Scary and beautiful were always interchangeable in my mind. Maybe it was because of the music.

“Whoa, lost ya there for a minute,” Lisa joked. “So, things at the Home? That boring? Or is it just my charming personality?”

“Sorry.” I felt my face heat, and I picked up a piece of pizza. It tasted like sand in my mouth, but whatever. “It’s been great. I mean, at first it was kind of uncomfortable, but now I love it.”