by A E Gamrat
In reality, even when we were in high school, his mom was making a killing, and so was his dad. He would’ve been the best husband, money or no money. Money brings out evil and can change the nicest person. I've seen all sides of how evil money can be, which is why I live frugally now.
Silver’s stare penetrates all of my insecurities. Deep down in the recesses of our beings we were it for each other. Time helped heal the ache of losing one another, but the need and want never went away. I can see in his eyes his truth of what giving me up did to him.
“I never forgot you and hoped you lived the life you wanted.” He buries his face underneath my hair and takes a couple of deep breaths. Pretty sure he’s not crying, but hearing his ragged breaths tells me he’s on the verge. Trying to keep himself together so he doesn’t make a scene.
I've seen my son cry so many times over the years, I'd probably go into mom mode instead of concerned friend or whatever I am to him. I can feel his heart ache and my eyes water over. I start to bat my eyes at a high rate of speed to keep my damn tears from falling. No one needs to feel guilt over one of us crying.
“Don’t think tonight should end in tears.” My body moves back and forth slightly with his tiny laughter.
“I don’t think so either.” He’s still talking to the back of my neck, underneath my hair. “Think I'm going to stay like this forever.”
“Fine by me,” I answer and then lean back on him even more. He could get out if he wanted to, but I like pretending my body is holding him in place. I could keep him here forever. Well, that might just work. Silver might want to take our physical relationship slow, which is fine by me; I'll have enough insecurities when the time comes. But we can solidify our emotional relationship, connect on a basic level and grow from there.
Out of nowhere, I can hear whispering, and it sounds very close to my ear. My eyes are closed, and I have no idea why. I wonder if it’s morning or still night, and where the hell am I? I hear more whispering, and it’s becoming louder every second.
“Baby,” and now the earth is moving. I can feel it shaking. “Baby, wake up.” The words are louder, and I know what each whisper means, but not together. Maybe I'm somewhere I'm not supposed to be or in an earthquake. “Gin, we fell asleep. It’s late; I need to go.”
“What?” I pop up, still not knowing what is going on, to smack my head right into something very hard. “Argh, damn it.” I rub the spot I whacked and try to turn over and go back to sleep. That, I know, is what I was doing before the earthquake woke me up. Felt like tremors, so there’s no need to get up and inspect the house. Earthquakes don’t happen around here, but who knows.
“Gin! Wake up now!” I know that demanding voice, but why does he sound so mad? Did something of his break during the earthquake? I start to shake again, must be aftershocks, but I think I feel hands gripping me. This might be the big one, must get up. “Damn, woman!” I hit whatever I hit before when I sat up. “I should’ve left you sleeping.”
The scene in front of me is starting to become clearer and less fuzzy. I'm in my living room, and I can hear mumbling and the water running in my kitchen. My forehead is killing me, but why, I wonder? How could I possibly hurt myself while sleeping on my couch? I'm going to have a headache for days, and it’s inventory week.
Slowly I stand up and trudge my way into the kitchen for painkillers. My head is pounding, maybe from lack of dinner. I hear the water running but can’t focus on anything else but pain medicine to calm this pounding down. Rounding the corner, I stop dead in my tracks. There is a man leaning over my sink with the water running. Who the hell is this? Why am I having a hard time remembering?
My body is stock still as he slowly stands up and turns toward me. Right before he is fully facing me is when I think I should run, but it's too late. Silver is standing at the sink, holding paper towels up to his face, and for some reason, he’s using red paper towels. Why would he be using… “Oh my god,” I rush to him, “is that blood?”
For seconds he stands there with a blank look on his face, holding the red paper towel. “Yes, sweetheart, it’s blood. You head-butted my nose freakin’ twice.”
“Seriously?” I ask while mindlessly rubbing my head. “How?”
“Does your head hurt?” His question has a bit of snark to it, and I'm still having a hard time putting the timeline together.
“Yes, but how do you…oooohhhh…”
“Yes…ooohhhh. I wanted to help close up shop and let you know I was leaving. We both fell asleep watching TV. I didn’t want to just leave without you knowing. Obviously, that was not the right choice.”
“Come sit down; you need to tilt your head back and put ice on the bridge of your nose.” Silver’s nosebleed is not my first rodeo, not by a long shot. As he makes his way over to the chair I'm standing next to, he gives me a sheepish look, like he’s waiting for me to hurt him further. “I promise.”
“I know,” he interrupts, pulling me between his legs as he sits down. “Fix me up, woman, so I can go home and cry about it.”
“I wouldn’t sass me if I were you.” The poor man’s face from the nose up is all red and irritated. Some of the redness is from the ice, but still, I can’t believe I did this to him. He sits patiently while I put ice on his nose. “I kept thinking an earthquake was going on, and I didn’t care about it.”
“What?”
“While you were trying to wake me up, in my head, an earthquake was going on. Then I couldn’t figure out what I was hitting.”
“It’s not funny.”
“I know, but…” I can’t hold back my giggles any longer.
“It’s…not…” He can barely get the words out, laughing with me at all this absurdity. His hands, which are still holding on to my hips, flex when I hit a sensitive area. They also remind me I'm standing in between his legs, with my upper body over top of him. Looking down on someone has never felt so right in my entire life.
Our eyes meet as I pull the ice away from his nose, and I know it’s my turn. I told myself in the next chapter of my life, I would take chances and standing over top of Silver is a chance I'm definitely taking. My tongue lightly wets my lips, and his pupils dilate, so I do the motion again, craving the need I feel in his eyes. Never have I ever felt so powerful in my entire life. I made this gorgeous man’s eyes dilate with a peek of my tongue.
Silver’s breath is harsh and echoes through my ears. He's patiently waiting my next move, allowing me to have all the control. Other than his flexing fingers and ragged breath, he sits still. I can feel the heat he gives off, standing between his legs. It does weird things to my libido and my imagination. If I were a braver woman I would kneel, but I'm not. This is as brave as I can be for at least now.
His impatience is growing; his hands are flexing faster, and I’m pretty sure I'll have light bruises from his fingers. I lean in and go for it, my lips lock around his upper one and slightly suckle. His body tenses at the instant contact, and a tiny little moan escapes.
I lift my head up to watch his lips follow mine, wanting contact again, so I give it to him over and over, planting kisses to mimic his lips from hours ago. My hands roam his broad shoulders, feeling the trembling strength trying to unleash to take me down.
I pinch his skin and then smooth it out, knowing he won’t let this go any further. I'm wound so tight, I'm thankful his hands are staying at my hips. If they move to any other zone, I would physically combust into a million pieces and beg not to be put back together.
Slowly I pull away and witness for myself the drunken haze my kisses put him in. Silver is staring right at me, but I can see the lust coating his eyes. He's in a state of pure bliss, and if I pushed, he would give in. This is good info to keep in my back pocket for a rainy day, AKA when I need to get out of trouble.
“Sorry about your face again.” His poor nose and forehead are still red.
“What about yours?” He asks while rubbing his thumb slightly over a spot on my forehead. I'm guessing it’s
red, but I feel nothing. My limbs are tingly; my heart is racing, but I feel no pain anywhere.
“Feels fine.”
“I bet,” he teases and leans up to kiss where his thumb was rubbing.
“Thank you.” I can feel the awe in my voice and on my face. You read books and watch movies with the man kissing his woman’s forehead, dream about it. The real thing, though…I could weep with happiness from the constant affection he’s been showing me.
“You never have to thank me for taking care of you. It's in my DNA to take care of my women. Better get used to it.”
I nod and then start cleaning up. There's a little blood still in the sink, so I go and get the bleach. If a stranger came into the kitchen, they would think a crime happened. Walking around the room I'm finding little drops of blood everywhere. There's literally a trail from the kitchen back into the living room where we were sleeping.
“Shit, I can’t believe there’s blood everywhere. I'm so sorry, I didn’t even know,” he apologizes, grabbing rags to wipe the blood up while I'm standing around giggling.
There's no carpet in my house so that the blood will wipe up easily with a damp rag. “Don’t be silly. I should be asking again if you are okay, because there’s a lot of blood.”
He's on his knees wiping the floor, and all I can think about is he’s on his knees below me. What is wrong with me? Silver is in my house with some light petting, and now I'm some insatiable woman, jonesing for her next hit, knowing it’s going to be the best ever even though I’ve never had a sample.
“Gin…baby…clean up the blood. Quit looking at me like I’m a piece of meat.”
“Fine, fine. This has been some kind of unexpected night.”
“I can agree with that.” We wipe in silence, laughing at every new spot of blood we find. Who would’ve thought cleaning up blood would be so much fun? “Maybe we could do this again soon?”
“Me giving you a bloody nose?” I shrug my shoulders. “Sure.”
Before I can even react, I’m being lightly wiped with a rag. “Not what I meant, smartass. I mean, we are going to talk a lot, but I want to see you in person…a lot, too.”
“Yes, I would like that very much. I'm not going anywhere.” My time to be bold. “I don’t want you to go anywhere.”
Silver slowly crawls on all fours over to me and slowly places his forehead on me. “Baby, I've never been anywhere but here.”
My heart grows bigger at his confession of always being with me. I can't think of a comeback to those sweet words, so I do my new favorite activity, kissing Silver.
By the time all the blood is cleaned up with some making out in between, it’s well past midnight. We both head to the front door, me wishing he could stay, and Silver telling me to lock up and text him in the morning. My agreement flows easily out with no argument in sight.
I lean on the door jamb from inside the house, and Silver mirrors me, standing outside of the house. He plants one last kiss on my lips and heads for his car. With a wave out the window, Silver is gone down my driveway.
The tinier and tinier his car becomes, the more I pray he doesn’t hurt me in the end. That we don’t hurt each other in the end. We've both been through a lot. Our stories are different, but we are both human, and overcoming hurt is not done easily.
Work is going to be rough to get through tomorrow, but I can’t wipe the smile off my face.
Chapter Eleven
“Sit down, Ginny. The day is over, and now it’s talk time.” Claire sits down at the little coffee table, eyeing up the chair next to her, silently demanding my ass be in it.
It's been inventory week, which means we’ve not had time to talk. As she’s telling me to stop, I'm in a bay of books with the laptop in my lap. The store might be closing, but my OCD wants this bay done by tonight. Claire likes my OCD ways when it comes to starting and finishing tasks, but she also likes to interrupt my work to irritate me. She’s my most obnoxious, keeps me on my toes kind of friend. I wouldn’t change her for the world, but right now I want to finish my bay.
“We have to do this right now? It can’t wait a little longer?” I plead, and she laughs. What a pair we make. “How about you ask your nosey questions sitting there, and I'll answer from over here?” I think this is a great compromise.
“No, you’ve done enough in the last two days. Stop, sit, and talk to me.” She’s pushing her bottom lip out to be extra dramatic. “I hate Work Mode Ginny; she’s no fun.”
“So, you are saying I’m fun.”
“Well…you are getting there.” We both laugh at this because no matter what mode I'm in, fun isn’t at the top of the list as one of my traits. “Plus, I need to know what put that permanent smile on your face.”
“I haven’t had a permanent smile on my face, geez.”
“See right there?” Her usual pointer finger is aimed toward me. “You can’t even deny it without a smile on your face.
“You need a permit for that finger, you know.” Her not-impressed look was my intended mark. I go back to scanning each book into the system, while she sits across from me, formulating another plan. Claire is never quiet for long.
“I think we should try to expand our Sci-Fi inventory. I know they are a little harder to come by, but the readers are there. Maybe post something on the website and try to bring in an indie Sci-Fi author. The store is always booming when an indie author is here.”
“Very true and I do agree, but we are not veering from the original topic. Nice try though.”
Claire will never catch on to the fact that I like to make her sweat. She's a very instant gratification kind of woman, so I'm the friend to make her wait or work for it. Brings me great joy to see her annoyed when I’m not forthcoming. Sometimes I don’t want to talk about it. Is that so wrong? I'm not used to all this gossip and let’s talk our feelings out.
Out of nowhere we hear the front doorbell chime. “Dammit, I flipped the sign but didn’t lock the door.” Claire rushes toward the sound.
I’m slowly trying to get off the ground, sitting crossed-legged for a long time at my age is not the smartest idea. Add the laptop and some of my notebooks, and I'm barricaded on the floor. In an emergency I might be doomed, not going to lie.
After a minute of getting myself up and shaking out the pins and needles, I hear Claire talking to whoever, and she’s sounding friendly. Could it be Silver? He knows I'm here and where the store is. Could he be dropping by?
Our conversations the last two days have been nice and fun. Catching up on lost years. How amazing and annoying our children can be and our day-to-day lives. Found out he manages the biggest bank branch in the county. Women must flock to his branch for him to handle their money.
He says the nicest things to me, about me, and asks how I am doing. Lou was even around for one of Silver’s phone calls and did not give me the third degree. Lou even told me after how cool Silver is for calling me, not hitting me up with a text or on social media. How the new generations live, I'll never understand. Silver feels the same way, especially when it comes to social media, feels like we are already ahead of the game with likes and dislikes.
We really haven’t talked about seeing each other again, and ninety percent of the time I'm fine barely even thinking about it. Then that little ten percent likes to show up at unexpected times, trying its hardest to put doubt in my head. So far, I've been good at beating it down and staying in the moment with Silver. I tell myself constantly I will not act like an inexperienced teenager. It doesn’t help that I've never been wooed or courted before.
My steps are hurried to get to the front of the store. I should be ashamed of them but can’t even care at this moment. If Silver is here, I want to see him ASAP and get every minute I can in his presence. Claire’s muffled voice sounds happy and light; it has to be a man with her.
I round the bend with a big old smile on my face to see my mother with Claire. “Damn,” I say under my breath. Not exactly the person I wanted to see.
“Hello, darling, I didn’t think seeing me would put a frown on your face.”
“Oh, Mrs. Wellington, the frown isn’t for you. It’s because you are not who she wanted you to be.”
“Really now,” my mother says while hugging me. “And who did she want me to be?”
“A boy.”
“A boy!” my mother exclaims back while still hugging me. They are having a silent conversation about me, and it’s annoying. For how prim and proper my mother is, the older she gets, the more uncensored she’s become. Plus, since the first time these two met, their goal is to make my life as uncomfortable as possible.
“Stop it, the both of you. I didn’t know who was here; I heard talking though.”
“Baby, those steps were rushed, and if you have someone special, then I'm happy for you. I'll wait until you want to tell me.”
“Thanks, Mom, I'm not even sure what’s going on.”
“I understand.” The words are said to me, but she gives Claire a wink. They drive me crazy. Oh, did I forget to mention how much feistier mom is too? “Now, the real reason I am here is to invite you to the McBride party on Friday.”
Say what? That's Silver’s last name. Claire looks at me behind my mom with a questioning look in her eye. “What kind of party?”
“They are throwing together an invite-only party at the shop. Think some family, close friends, and good customers. Food, drinks, and a silent auction. Money is going to charity, and we’ll probably make her take some to do with as she pleases. That woman knows how to run a business, and she should get some of the reward.”
“How…nice.” I swallow a little hard. “But I wasn‘t invited.” Bile is starting to burn the back of my throat. I've talked to Silver daily now since the weekend, and this is the first time I’ve heard of his mother’s party.
“Oh, sweetie,” she says to me while waving her hand around like she was swatting at a fly. “Our family was invited, and I’m sure she doesn’t have your new address. You don’t give that out too freely.”