Revive Read online

  Pressing my forehead to my knees, I sit there as the world around me seems to swirl and dance in a mess of destruction and bad fucking life decisions.

  I can hear Everly breathing, it’s labored and almost matches mine, understandable given that I’d just attacked her for a long time without coming up for air.

  “What the fuck was that?” she finally demands, but it’s not very strong, more curious.

  Shaking my head, I try to swallow, my throat nervous and dry. “I don’t know. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing or who the hell I am anymore.” I don’t bother to look up, enjoying the darkness and how I feel like it’s hiding me from the world.

  When I expect her to snap and call me crazy, this beautiful girl surprises me once again. I hear her sliding down the wall opposite me, and I blink as I look up. She’s assessing me, her head tilted to the side. “You can’t tell me that the amazing Luca, know it all extraordinaire, doesn’t actually know it all,” she comments with a quirk in the corner of her mouth like she’s testing the waters, to see how far she can push or whether I’m actually too far gone.

  I don’t bite back, and she continues to stare, our eyes just holding the gaze between us. Watching, and feeling the buzz in the air, swirling around us like a pending storm, she must see something inside me. Something I’ve done pretty well so far at hiding because her whole body softens and the look on her face warms like she can almost feel my pain.

  “Come on, we can go to my room…” I sit a little taller, my brows rising and the corner of my lip turning up, “… to talk,” she adds sternly, pushing to her feet and then holding out her hand to me.

  It looks like a lifeline, one that I desperately need right now. So, I take a deep breath and place my palm in hers, allowing her to support me. Because, if we’re being honest, I’m not sure I can push myself up on my own. The moment we touch, I don’t feel the electric shock that I once did, that bolt of energy that went through me when my lips touched hers. Instead, I feel comfort and a sense of peace and understanding move through me.

  It’s deeper and far more intense than just any kiss, or any connection I’ve felt before. And the surprising part is, that it doesn’t scare me, not one single bit.

  I’ve always blocked women out, keeping them at a distance so they can only ever see the fun, crazy me, never the broken and damaged little boy that hides inside. Everly’s different, though. There’s a part of me, deep down in the depths of my soul that wants her to know every single side I have to show.

  I don’t want to hide anything from her.

  I want her to know the real me—to accept the real me.

  Everly closes the front door, leaving the sun to set behind it and dusk to fall as she leads me to the staircase and we ascend it slowly, not talking, just being at ease with each other, our hands interlinked between us. It feels normal, not weird or contrived.

  We make our way in silence all the way down the end of the hall, and Everly reaches for the door at the end, pushing it open. I swallow hard, feeling a little wave of tension rolling through me. I’m nervous—it’s odd being at a girl’s house where she lives with her mother. I feel kind of like a teenager all over again being smuggled in.

  I look to Everly as she flicks on her light. “Where’s your mom?”

  She shrugs innocently, obviously not seeing the thoughts running through my mind. “She’s at work… night shift. Won’t be home until midnight. It’s okay, we can chat for a few hours without any interruptions.”

  “What makes you think I need a few hours?” I ask jokingly.

  She steps back, her hand slipping from mine. My face instantly turns to a frown, and I have to stop myself from reaching out to pull her back. She looks me up and down, and I begin to feel a little exposed like she can see right through me.

  “By the looks of you and the state you were in when you got here, I think we’ll need a while to sort your head. But then again, you might need a lifetime to sort the mess in that head of yours.”

  “Hey now…” I warn mockingly.

  “Kidding,” she says with a giant smile, before adding, “… kinda.” She moves back to the bedroom door and closes it behind me, and it’s not until I look at her I notice she’s wearing a cute little set of purple pajamas, then I glance around her room, that feeling of a giddy teenager returns. Her room is filled with trophies and cheerleading paraphernalia. Blue and yellow line the walls in her squad colors and I raise my brow, not realizing from our brief conversation just how into this she is.

  Suddenly, thoughts of how flexible she might be, enter my mind, and I groan under my breath as I try my hardest to force the sexual thoughts from my mind.

  Everly’s bed is enormous, a lavish queen, dolled up in white linens with lots of pillows. An array of stuffed toys line the top of her bed. The look is old but well-kept.

  I smirk, looking to Everly as a flush of red brightens her cheeks. “Cute,” I say.

  She rolls her eyes, shaking her head as she walks to her bed and takes a seat at the edge and pats the mattress next to her. “C’mon, come talk to me.”

  I take the invitation, inhaling deeply. “My mom died,” I say bluntly, not wanting to beat around the bush.

  Everly’s eyes open widely, and she reaches out her hand, squeezing my knee in a comforting gesture. “Oh God… I’m so sorry, Luca.”

  I snort and shake my head. “Don’t be, I’m not.”

  She furrows her brows and jolts her head back slightly. “Ummm… okay. How did she die?”

  “Karma,” I murmured. “She died of karma.”

  Everly sighs dramatically. “Okay, this really isn’t going the way I thought it was going to. So can you tell me what the hell is going on with you?”

  Part of me doesn’t want her to see me this way, so open and exposed. But the other part knows I’ll feel so much better because she will understand, she won’t judge me for feeling the way I feel, that’s something I’m sure of. I’m so sick of laying everything on Kace, and now he has Lily, I don’t want to burden him. I only want to see Kace happy, not drowning in my mental issues like he has for the past six years.

  “I was put in foster care when I was ten because my mom was a crack whore who couldn’t handle being a mother. She should have never been allowed to have kids.”

  Everly scoots back and brings her legs up, folding them. “Kids… as in, plural?”

  I exhale, falling back onto the bed and looking up at the ceiling. I’m trying to fight the burning in my throat and the way I can feel my eyes welling. I’ve managed to keep the tears at bay so far, and the last thing I want right now is for Everly to see me bawling like a baby. “Things were really shitty with Mom and me,” I croak and then clear my throat to try and get some semblance of control over my voice. “I was so little, and she couldn’t protect me, not from the men she had around. They were big, and I was only a tiny thing. She never learned. Once she got rid of one abusive man, the next would be the same… or worse.”

  A shudder runs through me as I’m plagued by the shitty memories of my childhood. I need to keep going if I’m going to get it all out. “The beatings, the yelling, the abuse. They would take our money, so we had nothing, and anything Mom had left over she would use to get high. I can remember searching through a garbage can one night and finding a tin of dog food to eat because I was that damn hungry.”

  I gave up being embarrassed about the things I did when I was younger a long time ago. That was how I survived. How I managed to stay alive in a place where sometimes I thought I’d almost be better off dead.

  Everly doesn’t say anything, just tightens her hand on my knee as I hear her breathing deepen slightly like this is really affecting her.

  “So when Mom fell pregnant again, she wanted to make things right. She wanted to make us a happy little family, get a job, make things good for the three of us,” I continue, powering through the pain. “We found out through the one scan she had that it was a girl. Mom sorted her shit out and got herself
a part-time job at a bar. She was still using but much less, and I had food all the time. Nothing fancy, but enough. One night she brought a guy home from the bar, he looked really shady. When he realized we didn’t have anything he could steal or any money, he beat my mom senseless until she could barely walk. She was almost at her due date, and I remember her screams as she lay on the floor bleeding.”

  “Jesus Christ, Luca,” Everly whispers in absolute horror. She moves closer, her hand reaching out to comfort me but I cringe away. I feel dirty, fucking damaged and destroyed. And it only gets worse.

  “We went to the hospital, they took me to a separate part so the nurses could look after me. Then all of a sudden, they told me my mom had left, and I was being taken by CPS,” my voice turns raspy and hard, I feel like I’m choking on my words as I push through the emotions that are washing over me. “She left me, and even though when I think about it things got better after that, she still left. She gave up and let me go without even saying goodbye. That broke me.”

  “You made it, though. You made it out the other side and look at what you’ve accomplished,” Everly whispers with an encouraging smile.

  I laugh, it’s dry and void of humor. “I found a way to get through everything by being someone else. Not the scared little boy afraid of everyone and everything. I had to find humor in everything because to me nothing was funny. That’s why I’m the way I am, Everly. I joke, I poke fun, and sometimes it makes me come off as an asshole, but it’s a coping mechanism that I’ve learned to use to survive.”

  “I know what it feels like to lose someone,” Everly says softly, and I can’t help but snort. I know she’s trying to be supportive, and I don’t mean to downplay her losing her dad, but there’s one significant difference between the two scenarios.

  “I really don’t feel like I’ve lost anything. I was doing perfectly okay when she wasn’t around. I made this life for myself. I learned to cook. I learned to fight. I graduated high school and got my first girlfriend all on my own. I didn’t need her for any of that. But now, even in death, she’s forced herself back into my life, and suddenly I’m right back to being that scared little ten-year-old boy again.” I grit my teeth and squeeze my eyes tightly shut.

  “Okay, so you’re strong, you’re a fighter, I get it,” Everly says, and even though I can’t see her, I can basically hear her roll her eyes. “But it’s okay to feel something every now and then. You don’t have to pretend to be so hard and unfazed all the time. Let yourself feel something. Even though you believe you hated your mom, she’s still your mom and part of you. Even a small part must still love her.”

  I throw my arm over my eyes and take a deep breath as Everly lays back on the bed beside me. She slowly slips her hand into mine, but doesn’t say anything or make any other move to comfort me.

  I peek at her from underneath my arm. “Go on, laugh, you know you want to. Tell me I’m a sad sack of shit.”

  “Shut up, Luca,” she says, staring at the ceiling, squeezing my hand in a vise grip that makes me wince. “Seriously, there’s nothing you could say right now that would hurt me—”

  “Luca, shut the fuck up.”

  I open my mouth to throw some serious sass back at her, but she just grabs a teddy bear with her free hand and swings it over in an arc hitting me right in the face. My eyes widen in surprise.

  “Just shut up, and let me be here for you. The real you. Not the you who needs to make sarcastic comments every damn two seconds. Just let me lie here with you.”

  I’m so surprised by the turn of events that I can’t even form a reply. Inhaling deeply, I turn my attention to the ceiling, copying her position, but enjoying the way our hands are clasped between us, connecting our bodies and energy. And at that moment I just feel… peace.

  There’s nothing but her and I. No dead mother or new siblings, just the girl who now sees me for who I am and still wants to lay here with me.

  Even as we both lay here in silence, my heart is racing in my chest. Hearing everything he said made me feel sick like at any moment I might either burst into tears or lose my dinner all over the floor.

  Thinking of any child being treated that way is horrific and unnerving, but imagining Luca, so small and innocent having to go through that, it makes my heart hurt.

  I’m quickly beginning to soften toward Luca and even find myself smiling at his childish ways and immature jokes. And now this information has turned my whole world upside down. It was only a few days ago I assumed he had no depth, that he was just another one of those guys who liked to joke and treat women like they’re inferior. He’s slowly begun to let me in, and I’m now starting to see the gaping wound inside him that he so desperately tries to cover and fill.

  He’s far more complex than I could have ever imagined.

  Neither of us speaks for probably close to ten minutes, until Luca finally clears his throat. “I’ve never told anyone that before,” he confides, sounding like maybe he’s regretting letting everything out.

  “Why not?” I ask, turning my head to look at him.

  He continues to stare at the ceiling, his jaw tight and clenched hard. I give him a moment, and he finally relaxes and turns to look at me with a heavy sigh. “Because I know what it’s like to feel weak, to appear weak, and I don’t ever want to be in that place again.”

  “Sharing something as painful as that, it doesn’t make you weak, it makes you strong,” I tell him with absolute sincerity. He rolls his eyes, and I squeeze his hand a little tighter, drawing his attention again before he can make some joke or some stupid comment to cover his emotions. “I’m serious. You’re not the only one who’s been through hell or felt heartache, but it takes so much strength to admit that you don’t always have your shit together and that you need help.”

  I take a deep breath, wondering whether I’m really about to go to a place where I don’t often visit, a dark hole that took me a long time to drag myself out of, and that caused me more pain than I’ve ever known before.

  “When my dad died, I felt like my whole world had fallen to pieces,” I whisper, fighting against the instant swell of emotion I know I’ll never escape.

  “Everly…” Luca croaks. “You don’t have to.”

  I shake my head, ignoring the out he’s giving me, determined to make him feel better, to help him to understand. “I didn’t want to do anything. Even climbing out of bed in the mornings was one of the hardest things I had to face, knowing I’d have to survive another day without him.” Even after six years, I still feel that ache inside me whenever I think of him not being there to see the person that I’ve become. “When Jack showed up, it was like both mom and me were given this new purpose. He listened, even when I didn’t want to talk, he gave me a purpose and reminded me that my dad might not be here, but his legacy and his memory still were. And if I didn’t honor them, then I wasn’t respecting everything he’d done for me and for us.”

  “Are you trying to be my psychiatrist now?” Luca comments sarcastically.

  I pull away. “If you’re going to try and humor your way out of this then I guess we’re done here…”

  He grabs my arm and yanks on it, pulling me back onto the bed. I lay there for a moment, trying to decide where to go from here, and I guess Luca decides for the both of us. “Fuck it,” he curses under his breath before rolling onto his side and grabbing my hips, lifting me effortlessly.

  I squeal in fright as he drops me on top of him, so I’m straddling his hips. We stare at each other for a moment, my face one of shock while his is far more intense like something’s finally clicking inside his head.

  “You’re right, I’m sorry. I don’t know how to do this. I don’t really do emotions. Well, at least, not the serious ones.”

  I place my hands on his chest to hold our bodies apart, just that little distance I need to keep my head straight. “Why did you feel like you could talk to me? Why did you come here when you could have gone anywhere, or to someone like Kace, your best friend?”


  “I just started driving and this is where I ended up,” he tells me. “I don’t know why. I really didn’t want to be alone.”

  I can tell it’s hard for him to admit that he’s hurting, but to acknowledge he’s scared to be alone, hell. I think about how supportive my mom and dad were, even when my dad was really sick, he always put me first and was there when I needed him. He always had been. When I lost him, I still had my mom, I had Andy, and other family members and close friends—people who have been there for me forever, and who would never leave me or let me down.

  Luca learned a long time ago that he was the only one he could rely on. He had to do everything for himself, and the one person who should have been there to support him, she gave him up, tossed him out like the trash.

  He may drive me crazy at the best of times, but I still love to see him smile and would never want him to ever have to feel that kind of pain again. He needs someone to be there for him, someone he can trust, and in all honesty, I can be that person. Right here, right now, and for as long as he needs me.

  “Well, now you’re not alone,” I tell him with a gentle smile.

  He grins back, it’s genuine and happy. “I think I need to try this again,” he murmurs, his eyes watching my mouth. I frown in confusion, but his hands reach out and frame my face. His eyes move to mine as if this time he’s deciding to be a gentleman and ask for my permission—not like earlier where he’d just stormed through the door and mauled me.

  Not that I didn’t entirely hate it…surprisingly.

  I should pull away.

  Is this really the right time? Is he really in the right headspace?

  The energy whipping around us is intense and pulsing, and while my head wants to pull back, to be cautious and sensible… my heart wants to totally give in.

  And the heart wins, every damn time.

  I move down, pressing my lips against his and kiss him. The light set of stubble on his jaw tickling my skin as his tongue enters my mouth. The kiss starts off slow and passionate like he’s testing the waters, like he’s making up for attacking me when he first got here. It’s nice, and warmth fills me from deep inside as I straddle him on my bed. His hands move from my face, one sliding under the top of my two-piece pajama set, his hand warm and inviting on my bare flesh, and the other threading up into my hair. His fingers lace through my tendrils, and he grips a little firmer, the kiss becoming hotter, deeper as my body moves in line with his in every way, just needing to be close to him.