Lust Next Door - S01 E63

Story 4 months ago

Lust Next Door - S01 E63

Read Story: SEASON 1 EPISODE 63

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Connor was seeing the world in black and white, mixes of gray and ash. Everything drained of color almost completely. The only thing he could effectively see was red. The second he stepped out of her house and into the world he now faced, nothing felt like it was real.

His chest was hollowed out. The slow beating of his heart reverberated throughout the cavity of his body, reminding him exactly how void it was. All that really remained now, as the sun scorned through his blinds, was the dizzy alcohol numbing his system.

He had been trying desperately to wrap his head around how that evening turned so quickly to shit and exploded in his face, to no avail.

It had such bright expectations. He wanted to ask, beg, and plead for Serena to be his girlfriend. He was prepared to do whatever he needed to get his girl.

He wanted to explore what they had, dive into the unknown but incredible feelings that sparked between them head first. He wanted to admit the crushing love that compressed his lungs every time he laid his eyes on her, the desire he had to make her completely his.

Instead of all that, though, they crumbled completely apart in the span of maybe two hours.

It made him question if what they had was even real or a courtesy she was doing because he had basically cried to her about loving Skylyn. All just stupid guilt she was secretly harboring. He couldn't be sure.

She was the author, the one that saved him, the one he obsessed over the better part of his life. She had been here the whole time and didn't say anything. Just thinking about it now gutted him, made his heart wrench in his chest. Because if she would have been honest with him, told him instead of refusing to give even an ounce of her fragile trust to anyone, he would have been elated it was her.

Now they both were sitting in the ruins of their already rocky relationship, the little trust they managed to build in the desolation around them both.

Now Connor just felt betrayed, heartbroken, and stupid. However, being angry was easier to feel than any of those, and that's what he was.

Really fucking angry.

He had left her house in a fit, that hole in his gaping chest bleeding out around him. All of the emotions from the loaded night spiraling around him, making his heart race and his lungs work hard to supply air to the raging fire inside of his body. It was too much. All of it was too much to feel at once.

The love, the questions, the betrayal, the confusion, the anger. All of it is too much to feel. His eyes burned, and before he knew it streaming down his face were strokes of broiling tears.

The water that was making his face messy now only made that searing red anger burn hotter. This was his whole reason for avoiding this bullshit in the first place, and it never got anywhere besides hurting someone.

He slammed the door to his house, brushing away the tears and forcing them to stop. He refused to cry over something that was barely real, to begin with. He and Serena had started out hating each other; it was destined to end that way.

Once his vision was clear and the rising and falling of his sporadic feelings strained on every sore spot of his body, Connor spotted the full kegs sitting on his island. He didn't even have to decide before his subconscious pulled him towards the booze. He drank through the night, the mindless drum of filling a cup and downing its contents the only true solace in his tempestuous body.

The more he drank his mind and heart slipped into subdued silence. The echoing emptiness was euphoric, and he kept going.

He drank until the sun started to swallow the darkness. Doozing in and out of fitful rest. Waking up to fill his cup and drown out any feelings threatening to rear its ugly head.

He fell into a pattern. Watching a random tv channel, sitting on the couch to drink the slosh of liquid in his cup, and getting up to refill it. He rinsed and repeated that all night until he fell asleep.

When he woke up the next morning fully, the sun burned his eyes, making a groan stumble from his mouth. His body felt entirely too present, and when his mind immediately whipped to look out the window at the silent house that lay across the street, he knew it was time for another drink.

The thought of her burning colors into his world filled him to the brim with her smile and the intoxicating taste of her mouth settling its familiar memory on his dry tongue.

His chest burned, ached, for her. His sobriety ripped the scab clean off the giant wound that lay slashed across his heart.

He loved her, he loved her so damn much, and she couldn't stand the idea of even trusting him.

He wanted the control back of his heart. He wanted the ability to not give a shit about her anymore.

Connor groaned and stumbled into the kitchen, filling his cup, downing the beer, filling it again, and chugging. Not stopping till the only thing he felt was slightly dizzy and a bit sick from the alcohol.

He burped and sluggishly wiped the remainder of the liquid off his lips. His vision was blurred, and the loving feeling of nothing took over him. He stumbled back over to his chosen spot of wallowing on the sofa, glaring ahead into his black, white, and vicious red world.

Drinking into Saturday until he dozed off again.

•

Connor only woke up because the sound of his phone ringing finally annoyed him enough to open his eyes.

He was surprised to see the sky was pitch black outside. He swore he closed his eyes for five minutes, and when he did that, there was light outside.

He winced and slowly reached over for his phone, mindlessly pressing the answer button and pushing it against his face.

"Hel-"

"Where the fuck are you, boy, we start in fifteen minutes, and it takes you twenty-five to get here!" Coach Stetson's voice blared through the speaker rupturing his ear drum.

The chilling voice and a sudden realization of where he was supposed to be turned his whole system upside down. He had a game against the Houston Bullets tonight. The residual alcohol made his head burn, and his chest feel like it was harboring a ton of bricks.

He groaned and forced himself up off the couch quickly, his coach still yelling obscenities at him through the phone as he tried to focus on the spinning world around him.

"I'll be there." He rasped into the speaker before hanging up, abruptly ending the yelling man's rampage.

Connor grabbed his hockey bag, praying to the heavens above that everything he needed was in there. Rushing out the door, he jumped into his car and turned a twenty-five-minute drive into about ten.

He raced through the gates of the stadium, jumping into his pads and uniform as he barreled for the locker room. Fans were screaming his name as they caught glimpses of Connor moving about, the stadium the fullest he's seen it as the echos of cheering reverberated through the walls. He nearly tripped and fell multiple times in his drowsy, hung-over state, finally getting his skates on when he went to join his team on the ice.

Connor stumbled into the box where some of his benched teammates sat. Coach Stetson looked at him with angry scorn pulling his bushy eyebrows down.

His jersey was hanging off his shoulder, his eyes sporting dark red bags, and one of his skates was coming untied. It made the old man scoff and shake his head as Connor opened his mouth to speak.

"I don't even want to know what sorry excuse you're about to come up with. We are down three, bullets are killing us, and we've only just started. Tie your fucking skate and get out there." He yelled, smacking a rolled-up playbook down on the railing as he spoke. Connor never saw the coach this angry, and he just nodded, trying his best to nod off the alcohol he felt sloshing around in his system.

"Get your ass back by the defense!"

The coach was yelling at him the whole time he stumbled with his lace, shoving a hockey stick into his hand and practically pushing him out onto the ice as he called someone off at the same time.

Connor shook his head, skating over into his position, the ice looking blurry beneath his shaky feet the more he tried to balance them. The thunderous roaring of the crowd made his head split and groan mumble from his lips, his vision barely cooperating with him as he tried to adjust to the sudden shock of the bright stadium lights.

The intense reflection bouncing up from the white ice made black dots dance in his eyes, spotting his vision. He felt like he was about to throw up from motion sickness as he finally settled into his spot back by the goal. He heard the goalie, Ryan Fluke, say something to him, but it sounded too far away. The voice drowned out under the cheers from the crowd and the swarming dread in his whole body.

He wished he could say the hangover was the thing making him the most out of it, but that was the least of his troubles right now. He kept seeing Serena, seeing her lovely face morphe into the complete look of terror and disgust when she saw Peter at the party. She had that same expression when she looked at him last night, like being in the same room was taking years off her life. Connor could barely think about the fact that he was held on the same pedestal as that monster now.

Connor was thrown down to the ice by a huge mass slamming into him. His head, protected in the plastic helmet, cracked down on the ice, making his whole body shudder from the impact. A vicious pain erupted across his brain, making his vision black for a second. The only thing he could register was the sound of the goal going off. They scored.

"Hey there, twinkle toes, light on your feet tonight, huh?" Patrick O'Gradey's menacing laughter was immediately heard above him, no doubt the guy who had bodied him like this.

"Get the fuck away O'Gradey." Josh shoved him out of the way and grabbed Connor's hand, helping him back up onto his feet.

"Connor, you don't look too hot...looks like tonight might be our night." Patty continued, his taunting voice sounding like nails on a chalkboard. Connor blinked until his vision returned to normal. Narrowing his eyes into a glare at him, he ripped his arm away from Josh and advanced towards him, but his friend only held him back.

"It's not worth it, Connor. We need to focus. What is going on with you?" Josh stared into his face, his gaze dripping in concern as he searched Connor's face for some sort of answer to why he was acting like this.

Connor just felt the sadness broiling the rage inside of him hotter, clouding every sense in his body.

He looked from Josh to the cocky look on Patty's face as he skated back over to his side, "Take defense, I'm moving to the wings." He snapped out aggressively, pushing past Josh.

"What? You just stood there with your thumb up your ass while the bullets scored?! You're moving me to defense?" Josh yelled at him as Connor skated off, his face twisted into a look of pure confusion and concern.

But Connor just ignored him, skating up to the top of the ice, watching Dean get ready to face off against one of the Bullets. He narrowed his eyes on the puck. He wasn't gonna let Patty get over on him. He wasn't gonna let her either. He felt his chest heave with rage. He watched the puck so closely that he thought a hole might burn right through the center of that black disc.

The minute it dropped, Connor fought against every protest in his ragged body and shot across the ice. He tapped his stick on the ice, catching the attention of Dean who managed to win over the puck, and signaled for him to give up possession.

He looked a bit wary but snapped it across the ice to him. Connor caught the puck easily and shot down the right wing, seeing a clear opening as the whole stadium roared with excitement.

He was closing in on the net, the Bullets goalie looking for Connor to the rest of his team as they desperately tried to catch up on him.

Their defense was starting to prepare for him, so Connor nodded to Luca flicking the puck to him. He dribbled it for a minute, avoiding their defense but not moving too much as Connor slid into position. Their goalie and the defense immediately turned on to Luca, focusing on him solely. Once they realized what was happening, it was too late.

Luca snapped the puck back over to Connor, who had a clear opening now. He caught it swiftly and pulled his stick back to make the shot.

The sound of the crowd drowned out all around him. That anger he felt balled up in his chest and spewed out of his body like a spout was stabbed into his heart. Leaving him gutted, hallowed out, with only the sound of his shallow breathing to ring through his whole body, but even that drowned away. The only sound he could really hear was the memory of Serena's incessant cheering in his head. He heard the faraway sound of her screaming his name, like a painful remembrance of the last time she was his. He saw flashes of her all sleepy and sick in his jersey, her wearing his color's across her cheeks, and his body broke down.

His heart lurched forward in his chest, making his hands still for a second too long on his stick. He hesitated. The sounds of the busy arena crashed back down in on him, Patrick swept in front of him and stole the puck out right from in front of him.

"Thanks for keeping it warm!" He called before launching down the ice toward his goal.

Connor was panting like he just ran a marathon, his heart feeling weak as all the blood drained from it, leaving him close to going unconscious. He stared at a spot on the ice and gripped his jersey, desperately trying to steady his breathing. He was doubled over, wincing his eyes closed and trying to shake away the chills of his ghostly pain. His hands felt as if they were going numb when his team hurried down the ice to help with defense.

But it didn't matter. The Bullets already had the edge, and they scored another goal while Connor was still trying to collect himself across the ice.

"Looks like the wolves are using their first time out! This is a very surprising performance tonight. I'll tell you that. I don't think anyone was expecting this!" The sports announcers called, and when Connor looked up, he saw Coach red in the face and waving him off the ice frantically.

He kept his head down and skated over. The second he stepped up to the gate to exit the ice, Coach Stetson was on him.

"What the fuck was that! It's like you're not even on the ice. I feel like I'm watching the ghost of fucking Connor Deluca play! You just coasted us two goals two. We are zero to five in the third quarter now! Thanks to you. You're benched for the game Deluca." He yelled, a lace of concern in the angry man's hues as he went on a rampage.

The scorn of his coach went right through him. He felt sick. Physically and mentally, as he staggered over to the bench. His teammates parted on the bench like he was the plague. He sat down heavily, his head hanging between his shoulders while he stared at the spinning ground.

His coach was right; Connor did feel like a ghost. He felt like an empty husk right now too. His heart was beating, he was breathing, but his mind was somewhere else entirely. It was in Serena's bed, kissing the scars on her heart, tracing the outline of her skin, laughing with her, teasing her till she couldn't think of anything to snap back with. While his heart was torn in two, bleeding in his chest, grappling with the cold reality that she lied to him.

His whole body was a battlefield of loving and hating her, and he didn't even know what side he was on.

He sat there glued to the bench for the rest of that grueling game, watching his team become even more disappointed with him as the minutes ticked by. He couldn't even blame them. He was disappointed in himself. He had lost every good part of him in the span of one night, Serena, and now hockey.

He watched as his team desperately tried to reclaim the game, Josh managed to score once, but the crowd grew solemn as the inevitable end of this night approached. They lost.

And they lost badly. The bitter end to their winning streak.

•

The sound of his car's humming engine was the only thing Connor listened to on his way home.

The treeline blurring past him, stars above him blending into streaks of white, and the bruised memories of tonight were the only things he could focus on.

He broke Honey's promise, lost the only girl he ever loved, and let his entire team down.

His knuckles turned white from the grip he held firmly on the stirring wheel, trying to pinpoint exactly where everything went wrong. He knew the answer, and it was the minute he started loving her. He winced his eyes closed for a moment, trying to choke down the burning sensation that threatened to spill tears down his face.

He felt empty; love left him completely empty. It had effectively stripped him of every stable thing he had in his life.

It wasn't worth it thinking about any of this. He knew that. Serena wanted nothing to do with him, and he wasn't sure he wanted anything to do with her. She felt like a catalyst to all this, but blaming her felt impossible. His heart wanted desperately to find loopholes that eradicated the fact she lied to him so that he could storm over to her house, bang on the door, and talk to her until she forgave him.

But she did lie to him, and nothing he said to himself eased that pain. The reality was that he wasn't enough for her to trust him.

He also could barely stomach the fact that he couldn't protect her. He brought the one weapon that could destroy Serena right to her frontlines. He watched it wreck her.

Connor was counting down the seconds till he could have another drink as he pulled into his driveway, wanting nothing more than to numb the crushing waves of pain that were pouring over him.

He mindlessly grabbed his phone and duffle bag, refusing to look over at her house. He was already plagued with all the memories of her. He didn't need any more reminders.

His phone buzzed violently in his hand the whole walk up to his door, no doubt from his team, his family, and news articles about tonight. He didn't have any energy to entertain it.

He walked inside and shut his door. Finally, he just decided to power off his phone when the first notification he saw made him still.

It was from his dad, a news article attached to his text.

Dad: Isn't this the author you love so much?

The headline read.

Author Skylyn Voss has been revealed.