How To Save A Life

by P. Dangelico

  “I met Laine at Dana Farber…in the hospital. She and Eli grew up together. Their parents were best friends.”

  “How did she die if you don’t mind me asking?”

  My chest feels encased in cement. It’s hard to breathe, it’s hard to speak. All the feelings are back. The ones I spent years silencing.

  “The cancer came back…It was aggressive.”

  Riley gets to her feet and brushes the sand off her ass. It falls on the bare tan skin of her thighs. I want to kiss them. I want to pull her down on top of me and bury myself inside of her so deep the lines between us blur and disappear.

  “I’ll race you to the end of the beach,” she says with a hint of trouble in her smile.

  “No I––”

  She takes off, kicking sand in my face and I chuckle.

  “Jordan! Come on!” she laughs.

  A memory surfaces and it hits me like a ton of bricks. A vague image…a vivid recollection of a dream. A girl with dark hair on the beach. She was laughing and calling my name. And she was happy. So damn happy…I want to be happy too.

  “Jordan!”

  I get up and run after her.

  Riley

  “One more match,” Eli tells Jordan like he’s emperor of the free world. “Unless you’re a pussy.” His reddish-blondish eyebrow goes up in challenge.

  They’ve been going at it like this for two hours. Two frigging hours. Over speed chess, no less. Smack talking like I’ve never even heard at Sal’s Bar when the Jets play the Pats.

  “I’m tired. I’m gonna hit the sack,” Jordan tells him.

  Eli made dinner. He’s a very good cook. He grilled steaks and vegetables he gets delivered from the local farmers, made a potato salad all on his own, refusing my help. He also has a fridge the size of a normal person’s walk-in closet so I suspect he doesn’t get out much.

  Then we moved into the family room––this room. It’s covered in bookcases, filled with books. One wall taken up by a massive wood burning fireplace. The house is too traditional colonial for my taste, but nice regardless.

  Earbuds in, I’ve been pretending to listen to an audiobook for the last hour just to catch their conversation. Because, yeah, I’m not missing this for anything.

  “…you told Laine you saw me out with Brittney Walsh––” Eli says in an accusatory tone. Sounds like he’s harboring a little resentment over it.

  “You were out with Brittney,” Jordan argues.

  “As a friend. You knew I had no interest in her.”

  “Oh really? You two still keep in touch?”

  The conversation is once again getting heated. Until a new chess match starts. Then there will be a lot of banging on timers. For the record, it’s a weird game.

  From the crumbs I’ve picked up from Jordan and today I’m getting a better picture of what went on.

  I think they were both in love with her and Eli won. It makes me wonder what kind of woman could have these two very smart men so taken with her. It makes me feel small in comparison, reminding me that I don’t belong here…I don’t belong with him.

  “Start the game,” Eli insists.

  Time to put an end to this.

  Jordan

  Riley walks up to the table and stands over us with her hand on her hip. “I don’t know what dick measuring championship you two have been fighting for a decade, but you need to grow up. It’s over. Act like it…Good night.”

  “Good night, Riley. Sleep well,” Eli says with a shit-eating grin.

  The minute she’s out of the room, his smile drops. It’s hard work to sustain an appearance of normalcy when all you want is to go to sleep and never wake up. I know something about it.

  “I’m done.” I stand, ready to go after her. It’s an involuntary reaction. My body has a mind of its own and this need to be with her, close to her, to feel good again, has to be met.

  “Pussy,” Eli mutters. “Go ahead. Go after her. I know you’re dying to.”

  “You know nothing about it,” I tell him, setting the record straight. I won’t taint whatever is happening between me and Riley with the problems in my past.

  I jog down the backyard to the dock. I took a bedroom in the house, but I’ll be damned if I’m sleeping there. I’ve been biding my time, waiting three months for the chance to touch her, and I’m not throwing away the opportunity now.

  A dock light shines on the name painted on the back of the boat.

  My Laine.

  He called the goddamn boat My Laine. He’s never getting over her.

  Kicking off my shoes, I climb aboard and follow the stairs bellow deck. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen is standing in the galley drinking a glass of water.

  “Hi,” she says, her eyebrows raised in question. She smiles so sweetly I want to devour her until she’s screaming my name. “Did you need something?”

  I almost laugh. Where do I begin?

  In two steps, I close the gap between us, take the glass out of her hand and place it on the table. Then I take her face in my hands.

  I’m falling in love with this woman. Or maybe I’m kidding myself and I already love her. I didn’t want to love her. I didn’t want to love anybody. I was done with love. Too much pain. Too much suffering. But I can’t lie to myself anymore.

  “You…I need you.”

  Looking into my eyes, she touches me, shapes her fingers over the bones of my face and puts her full lips on mine. Every time I kiss her feels like the first time, a combustible fire, a chemical reaction. I’ve never had so much chemistry with anyone.

  I pick her up and carry her into the back bedroom.

  14

  Chapter Fourteen

  Riley

  It’s happening.

  This is finally going to happen.

  I don’t know whether to fist pump or cry from happiness.

  Soft and heavy-lidded, his eyes meet mine. Then slowly, very slowly, he leans in, takes my face in his hands and kisses me. His tongue slips into mine and we slowly dance backwards, toward the small bed.

  If the kiss in the kitchen was a promise of long nights and twisted sweaty sheets, this kiss is filled with longing and need. It’s charged with emotion. Jordan kisses with every fiber of his being. Like his life depends on it.

  “I want you to know that this means something to me.” It comes out of him in a low sweet murmur, but I hear it as loud as a shotgun blast. And just like that his sweet words bring me back to earth. This is going to change everything. It might be the beginning or the end and I’m still not sure which.

  I search his eyes and see the truth. He’s letting me see the truth. And the truth is that he’s as scared of getting his heart broken as I am.

  “This means something to me too.”

  I fall back onto the bed and he follows. He climbs on and spreads my knees apart with his. His hands bracket my shoulders, holding himself over me, looking at me like he can’t believe this is happening either.

  Holding his face, I bring him closer and kiss him, give as good as I’m getting. All my senses level up. The wine we had at dinner tastes better on his tongue. His stubble rougher under my palms. His lips silkier on mine. I accumulate details about him like I do crumbs of information. But what I don’t have to wonder about is his desire for me.

  “Don’t disappear on me again.”

  “I won’t,” he promises.

  Jordan pushes off the bed and stands. He grabs the back of his thin black sweater and pulls it over his head. Does the same with his black undershirt, exposing his magnificent chest dusted with hair. It never ceases to amaze. He’s so perfectly sculpted I need to touch it to make sure it’s real. Seriously, how much work does it take to look like that? I can barely manage a run if I’m not working.

  He unbuttons his jeans slowly, happy to take his time and let me watch. Like…too much time.

  “Jordan…” He’s teasing me. I see it in his smile now, a smile that keeps going and reaches his eyes.

  He spreads op
en the fly of his jeans, and his erection punches out, barely contained by his boxer briefs. Hooking his thumbs over the elastic waist with deliberate slowness, he pulls them all down.

  He’s big. Bigger than I imagined him to be, and my imagination is pretty ripe. Hard and ready, and surrounded by a tidy nest of black hair. This may be more than I can handle. Similar to never working out and then entering the New York City Marathon. You’ll get some personal satisfaction, but it will hurt in the end.

  “Baby…” I glance back up, into smoldering green eyes, and find them filled with concern. “Are you okay?”

  “Now would probably be a good time to tell you that I don’t do this often…so you’ll need to grade me on a sliding scale.”

  Fighting a smile, he comes over to me and unbuttons my jean shorts, looks up. “Can I?”

  Dead. I am dead.

  “Yes.”

  He pulls them down along with my blue panties. His nostrils flaring, his eyes bright and glassy. There’s something primal about him when he’s turned on and it’s turning me on too. He’s not gentle about what he wants. I don’t know why it surprises me, but it does.

  I make quick work of the oversized white sweater I’m wearing, which leaves only my bra. But Jordan is in no rush. He’s taken with my nipples poking through the nylon. Warm fingers brush back and forth over them. He scrapes them between his teeth. I shoot off the bed, quickly reduced to begging for some, any, relief. I’m so ready to go I might get there alone.

  I arch off the bed, and Jordan does the rest, removing the bra. Then he pins me down with his hips. Even though he’s about three inches taller than me, all our parts mold together perfectly. A matching set. Just being skin to skin with him feels so good I’m ready to combust. Patience begins to wear thin and passions high, and I can’t wait another minute.

  When he’s done teasing me between my legs with his fingers and tongue. When he’s explored every inch of me with his lips. After he’s made me scream his name, made me come with his mouth…then he presses his pelvis down, grabs my thigh, and hooks it over his waist. He thrusts his hips and buries himself inside of me so deep I can’t feel where I start and he ends anymore. And when I come, he comes with me. Where he goes, I follow.

  “How do you feel?”

  “Like I was run through by a battering ram. Other than that, never better.” One glance at my phone resting on the shelf next to the bed tells me we slept past breakfast. It’s ten a.m. I’ve never spent so much time in bed in my entire life. Not even when I had the flu.

  Jordan’s lips lift into a soft smile. I’ve never seen him so relaxed and happy, his smile both guilty and self satisfied.

  Last night was amazing. Better than my fantasies. Also true, I need to ice up before I can get back in the game.

  “I’m sorry if I was rough.” Leaning over me, he places the softest kiss on my shoulder. “You just get me so turned on I can’t help myself.”

  “Good.”

  “Can I ask you something?” he says quietly.

  “Anything.” I sift my fingers through his hair and his eyelids get heavy.

  “Why didn’t you go college?”

  Not the question I was expecting. Not even close. I only realized this morning we didn’t use a condom and I’m trying not to freak out about it. A surprise pregnancy right now would be far from from a happy one.

  Why didn’t I go to college? Do I tell him the truth? That I was busy committing petty crimes with Tommy’s crew when everyone else was preparing to take the SATs. That I was a bad student because I had a hard time concentrating. That I feared if I didn’t keep a close eye on my mother, I would turn into an orphan. Do I tell him that if I hadn’t run into Dominic that lucky day at the 7-Eleven, I’d probably be in jail.

  “You’re one of the smartest people I know,” says the man I am madly in love with in a quiet voice.

  Coming from him, that’s saying a lot. But I’m doing exactly what I’ve always wanted. I love the home renovation business with all my heart. I was doing what I love. Now that Maisie is back where she belongs, I need to get back to it soon.

  “Because everything I need to know I can learn on YouTube.”

  Jordan stares, unblinking. “Funny.”

  “Have you browsed YouTube lately?”

  “No, not lately,” he deadpans.

  “Name anything,” I challenge. “Anything. And I’ll find you a video that teaches you how to do it.”

  “Anything?”

  “Anything.”

  I get the signature Jordan West special, a look so smug it begs to be slapped off his pretty face. “Surgery.”

  Sigh. “Name something else.”

  He waits patiently for me to get serious, a warm encouraging hand brushing up and down my bare back. Jordan’s an anchor, the steadiness I’ve never had and desperately needed. I realize now I’ve been drifting my entire life.

  “My mother…she really loved my Dad. Like crazy love––they were high school sweethearts.”

  My throat swells with emotion. I haven’t spoken about this with anyone. Not even Veronica. I used to believe some things are best not examined too closely. Maybe I was wrong.

  “When he died, she fell apart. It was bad back then. There were days, sometimes weeks, she wouldn’t get out of bed…clinical depression but I didn’t know that back then and she refused to see a doctor about it until recently.” I swallow. “I missed a lot of school, barely slept for years. I was scared she’d hurt herself…I was afraid I’d be alone.”

  Tears well up in my eyes. I bite the inside of my cheek to stave them off, push them back down and out of sight. But Jordan won’t have it. He pushes me onto my back and gets between my legs. Hips to hips. Green eyes to blue. Lips within a hair’s breadth of each other’s.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmurs. Holding my face, he kisses me softly. Jordan can strip the bark right off of me with one look. And it’s the same way he’s looking at me right now. Like I’m the only person in the world who matters. “Don’t hold back…Give it to me. I’ll carry it for you.”

  I kiss him back the way he kisses me, like everything rests on this one point of contact, like he’s committing every fiber of his soul to it. He pushes inside of me and I arch up into him. Guiding my hands above our heads, he places mine on the edge of the headboard. His hands bracket mine. And then I do as I’m told…

  I don’t hold back. I give it all to him.

  The Town of Chatam is exactly what I expected: charming shops, mom and pop restaurants. Vintage clothing stores. Antiques. People getting around on bicycles and sidewalk art shows on Sunday.

  It feels like I’ve traveled back in time to a simpler world. One I’d like to get lost in and never return.

  “I’m going for a run,” I announce to my lover. I mean, technically he’s my lover. I would like to be his girlfriend but that’s still very much up to him.

  Jordan picks his head up off the pillow and looks at me, eyelids heavy. “Come back to bed. I’ll get your heart rate up.”

  My body needs a break. Jordan does nothing in half measures, including sex.

  “I need some air. Come with me.”

  I walk back to the bed we haven’t left for twelve hours and place a kiss on the back of his neck. He sighs.

  I’ve never known a person so desperate to be touched than this one, so responsive. And not just in a sexual way. It’s like no one has ever hugged him before. I once read that children who are touched and hugged, shown affection, have better mental health and immune responses. I wonder how true that is.

  I run my fingers through his hair and drag my nails down over his shoulder.

  “You better stop. I can’t run with a hard-on.”

  I slap his ass. “Hurry up. I’ll wait on deck.”

  Jordan

  I’ve given up trying to anticipate what life has in store. Every time I think I have something figured out, I’m inevitably reminded that I know nothing, proven a fraud.

  Riley runs ahead, her l
ong shapely legs eating up the asphalt. Her spectacular ass the best view on the planet.

  Mine. My basest instinct plays on a loop in my head, the blood in my veins pulsing with it. I’ve turned into the worst possible version of myself overnight. Insatiably hungry for her, proprietary. I haven’t felt better in years, a decade practically, and it’s not just because it’s the best sex I’ve ever had. It’s more than that.

  “Try to keep up, old man.”

  “I’m enjoying the view too much.”

  We’re surprisingly well matched in every way possible. In bed, there’s no question. But also in life. Because when it comes down to it, I know this woman’s heart.

  Despite everything she’s suffered, she has a strength of spirit I admire. That I envy. Life could’ve soured her a long time ago, like it did me, and yet she’s still an optimist. She’s still kind and loving. It’s time to be honest with myself and admit that I’m in love with her… that maybe I have been for a while.

  She stops on our route back to Eli’s place. Her hands on her hips and her breasts rising and falling with each deep breath she takes, her face lights up at whatever she’s looking at.

  “What is it?” My eyes follow her line of sight. It’s a house. Old––probably a historical landmark––and small compared to the other estates on this street. It also looks like it’s been neglected for years.

  “It’s in bad shape.”

  “I know. Isn’t it amazing?”

  You’re amazing.

  “I would rebuild the dormers, retain the historical integrity but with less flourish. Something more appropriate for the proportions of the house. Paint it blue with white trim, the yellow is outdated.”

  Fuck, this is turning me on. I’m getting hard just listening to her talk about a broken down house. “There’s a For Sale sign. It’s on the ground. Come on, let’s go check out this dump.”

  I’d buy her the house just to see that look on her face every day.