Heavy Heart

Chapter 25

Zack's Point of View

I couldn't believe she just kicked me out of her house like I meant nothing to her. Like I was just another guy to her, nothing special. I climbed into my truck and drove home as quickly as I could. I slipped into the house, my mom had gone to church so I didn't need to face any music from her. I went to the bathroom and took a shower.

As I stood under the hot water, my mind wandered back to the night before at Layla's. They way she moved seductively under the hot spray like the most sensual exotic dancer I could ever imagine. I'd watched her, admiring the view, wanting to touch but I'd stopped myself. Layla had a lot of rules about sexual contact, it always had to be on her terms. I was fine with that, because everytime we were together it was the most euphoric experience. I'd never been with a woman who understood her body or mine as well as Layla.

As our time together continued, I became consumed with her. She always left me wanting more. I'd dated a few women in my life, most of the time they left themselves at my beck and call. My first girlfriend, Whitney, was in highschool. She was obsessed with me, and followed me around the school all the time. Whitney was beautiful but she was really insecure, she needed me to tell her I loved her all the time. To be honest, though I told her I loved her, I wasn't sure I'd ever felt it with her. Whitney was so needy, if I didn't tell her what she wanted to hear, she would break down crying.

She and I had sex for the first time in the back of my truck. After that it got way too intense for me. Whitney would come to my house and scream at my mom if I didn't call her everyday. Once she pounded on the hood of my truck during a football game until my hood shot up and wouldn't close again. Apparently I had neglected to invite her to the practice, even though no one watched them anyway. Whitney, my mom and my coach ended up having a screaming match on the football field which was so embarrassing. Brock teased me about it for years.

After Whitney, I'd dated a girl named Reba when I was twenty. She was more laid back but she wanted to move out west. Reba was fun in bed, she was wild and crazy. We never took things very seriously because she was always on her way out of town. After six months she'd saved a few thousand dollars and took off in an old Jetta to Vancouver. Reba and I had phone sex a few times but soon we fell out of touch. I didn't wish her ill or anything, we just went different ways.

I'd had a few flings over the years but I hadn't found someone I really wanted to be with until Layla. In fact, I'd been pretty taken with Layla back in highschool but she was in a different crowd then I was. Brock and I, along with our friends, had been mean to her and a few others in highschool. It wasn't because I hated her, I'd teased her because I wanted Layla to notice me. Her long strawberry blonde hair and blue eyes were beautiful against her creamy skin and rosy cheeks.

Layla's curvy body was a dream in denim. I loved to watch her sway down the halls of our school. I remember the day I knocked her into the lockers well. I'd been wanting to ask her to come to my football game but I'd chickened out and ran into her by accident. When Layla looked up at me I froze for a moment and then acted like I'd meant to. I basically ran away after that. Then I realized I wasn't going to get anywhere with her because she thought I was a dick. I was a dick, I deserved for her to view me like that. I regretted the way I treated her, I found I still regret it to this day.

When she started working at the factory I was so excited because it meant I could start over with Layla. However, she wasn't on the same line as I was and when she saw me she acted like I was invisible. Every time I got even close to having a conversation with her Brock would ruin it with a snarky comment. It took years for Layla to finally warm up enough to actually respond when I attempted to engage her in conversation.

As I stepped out of the shower I stared at myself in the mirror. I wrapped the towel around my waist and went down the hall to my bedroom. I threw myself face down on my bed and almost cried. The night before had been so intense for me. I'd never had anyone inside me before. I felt something I wasn't expecting, I'd felt vulnerable with Layla. After having the most amazing orgasm of my life I'd fallen asleep in her arms. I remembered I was trembling and my mind was swimming in euphoric sensations. Layla had taken me to a new level of intimacy and passion.

Then, the next morning, after I'd shared something with her that I'd never shared with anyone else... She kicked me out. Layla had treated me like I was some random guy she'd met at a bar. The day before she had asked me to be her boyfriend, then suddenly it was as though I was nothing.

I felt dirty and used. My pride was bruised. Maybe I was being overly sensitive, but her lack of care that morning had bothered me. All Layla wanted to do was get me out of her place so she could continue on with her day. I was suddenly inconvenient, which made me feel pathetic. I'd apologized to her, done everything on her terms, been patient with her. I had done everything right, yet still I somehow got the shaft.

I ended up doing some yard work to keep myself busy, plus it made my mom happy. As the day passed I realized Layla hadn't even texted me. She wanted her space. A part of me was heartbroken from that, because I thought we had passed that point. My mom shouted to me that it was dinner time, I checked my watch and it was 5:32pm. Layla hadn't called me all day, just as I'd suspected she wouldn't. I locked up the shed door before I crossed the back yard toward our house. If she wanted space, I would give her space, but I was tired of it always being on her terms. I had fallen hard for Layla, and though she cared about me, it was evident that my feelings for her were stronger than hers for me. I decided I wasn't going to chase her, I was done bending over backward for her only to be pushed out into the cold.